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rocksaltandmountainash · 3 months

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Waking up in Beacon Hills - pt. 28

Chapter summary: Kara gets back to work, but an interruption from Beacon Hills makes it tricky. Set in the gap between Teen Wolf season 3b and 4, and Supernatural season 7 and season 8.

Series masterlist: can be found here.

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings/notes: swearing, canon (TW and SPN) typical violence, gonna be honest - it's just pure smut, peter hale is on my brain, but! the sex is safe - that's something? Gif sources: Deaton | Peter 1 | Peter 2

“As in Bardo?” Deaton’s eyes belie his concern; “Why? Is Stiles okay?”

“No, no!” you cry, “It’s not him - he’s good.”

He relaxes and drags a stool over to the exam table for you. Dumping your bag on the ground, you sit across from him as he sips his coffee.

“I mean actual Purgatory. Bardo is, like, um, a state of being?”

He nods, holding the cup lightly in both hands, displaying all the patience and calm that makes him such a successful vet and mentor; “That’s right.”

“But I need the place.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s here, right?” you gesture around the room, “And Heaven and Hell. And Purgatory.”

“Okay,” he nods again, following your logic, but not sure where you’re headed with this hypothetical discussion.

“So…how do I get there?”

Deaton is stunned into silence, expecting you to laugh and admit this is a joke. It has to be a joke - the breezy way you’ve asked, like you’re requesting he direct you to the nearest gas station.

“Doc?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Although Deaton finds he’s surprisingly accepting of your rambling assertion that Heaven and Hell are real, he has no clue how it all works.

“Why would you want to?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you shake your head. He’s right, he doesn’t understand.

You’re discovering that Bobby and the Winchesters have spoiled you, giving you insight into parts of the life that apparently even Deaton hasn’t seen. It would scare the shit out of you if you were still the same woman you were a year ago.

Once you learned all this was real - monsters and magic and angels - it blurred together. Doesn’t help you’ve lost most of the people who could provide you some perspective. And you’re loyal to your core, possibly to your own detriment. So all you see in front of you is the puzzle of pieces to figure out. The how, the maybe this, the A that can lead you to B, which might unlock C.

The work - research, fighting, hunting, helping - has given you so much. More than you’d hoped for when you packed up your flat and turned up on Bobby’s doorstep, telling yourself to keep your expectations low. You’d never been happier to be proved so wrong.

It’s granted you friends, a sense of family. Sam can’t see it, or doesn’t want it, you can’t blame him, and you’ll respect his choice.

Dean - he’s gone. But after all the good the Winchesters have done, someone should get him back so he can make his own decisions about how his life will play out. Fuck knows how you’ve gotten here - where it appears you and Samandriel will be the ones to bust him out, but finding him has stopped feeling like a task to feeling like duty. Morphed from a want to a need.

Painting on a fake smile, you chat with Deaton a while longer as you finish your coffee. Eventually the bell chimes, signaling another patient for him.

“I better get going.”

“I don’t think you should do whatever you’re thinking, Kara…. It’s risky... and…”

His voice trails off as he walks you out or you just don’t hear the rest because you’re mentally fixated on the next step. You thank him for the advice, grateful for the distraction an overexcited bichon puppy brings and ignoring his pointed looks as you exit the clinic. ****

Nevada:

There’s a loud knock that makes you jump, because Samandriel never knocks. He doesn’t even use doors, just pops up without warning, making your heart fall into your ass every time.

Taking a peek out the window, you scold yourself for not checking the porch light was working - you can’t quite make out who’s standing there.

Opening the door a crack, you grip your gun tight behind your back. When you spot Peter, your nerves dissipate into confusion that tints your greeting.

“What…how…what are you doing here?”

Pushing the door closed, you remove the chain before opening it to allow Peter to stroll in. He glances around the room and drops his keys, wallet, and phone on top of the TV.

“You told Stiles where you were.”

“Yeah, I told Stiles,” you rake your eyes over him.

Judging by his disposition - confident, arrogant, acting like he owns the place - nothing is amiss. He’s not here to rush you back to Beacon Hills because something is horribly awry. So you ponder what he’s here for, why he’s shown up ten hours from his home. You think you may know. But it will be much more fun to hear him say it.

“Let me guess, you were eavesdropping around Derek’s like a stalker?”

He grins as he wanders over and lays his palms on your hips; “Maybe.”

You remove his hands, not forcefully, but enough to console yourself that you’re not this easy, that he might need to jump through a few hoops, do more than merely turn up. It’s dismal how happy you are to see him, and you do your best to not show it.

“But I didn’t tell him where, just said I was in Lovelock.”

Keeping your tone light, you search for something other than Peter’s body to occupy your hands, because he’s looking at you like he can feel the excitement that’s pinging its way through your body. You grab a beer from the fridge, throw the cap in the sink and take a long pull to calm yourself.

Peter studies the subtle way you’re sucking down deep breaths and pretending you don’t want him as he gauges the most efficient way to get you naked. Like this wasn’t inevitable, as if he was going to let you leave town and never see you again.

You raise an eyebrow, waiting on him to answer your question.

“I just found the motel with the most bed bugs.”

“Hey! Fuck you Hale.” you defend your choice of accommodation though you’re smiling as you tell him off.

Peter laughs, circling around the small table to pluck the bottle from your grasp and set it down. He slips his arms around your waist to hold you in place; “This town is small. There are only two motels.”

You try for a witty remark or sassy retort, but your defences are slowly being eroded by the warm cradle of his arms around you, the pressure of his palms resting on your ass.

A sly smile tugs at his lips while his eyes dart from yours down to your mouth and back. He holds in a sigh when your hands find their way to the front of his shirt.

“Okay.” is all you manage, because his eyes are twinkling and maybe you’re a bit lonely and maybe you’re a lot weak but he looks good and his chest is so firm that it seems like a pointless waste of time to act like you don’t want this.

Peter dips his head, “Okay. Happy? Can we fuck now?”

The raspy way he asks sends electricity down your spine and you press yourself closer, feel him stiffen against your thigh, “Yes.. please.”

Not even embarrassed that you’re whining, and Peter forgets to feel smug that he’s won because as soon as the plea leaves your mouth, he kisses you. You let his tongue delve into your mouth and give tiny little whimpers that he swallows down.

This shouldn’t be turning him on this much - he’s a grown man who enjoys sex in its plentiful and varied forms, so why is the simple pleasure of your lips on his driving him crazy? Fully clothed, with your fingers threading into his hair, how do you make it so there’s no air in the room? Peter’s thoughts are halted when you moan, and it becomes a flurry of lips and tongues and you rubbing against his crotch as you fumble with the buttons of his shirt.

Squeezing the back of your thighs, he urges you up, craving the crush of you on him. He can’t get close enough upright like this. Needs access, needs your scent filling his nose and your skin sliding along his.

“Wait…wait,” pulling away, you shake yourself free of the horny daze Peter put you in, “I don’t have a condom.”

“What?”

The abrupt change of pace tilts Peter off balance, and his arms flex automatically, wanting your warmth back. Then it occurs to him you hadn’t insisted on protection the other times. That fact, combined with his recent discovery of Malia, has him suddenly worried,

“I thought you were on the pill?”

“I am. But, you know,” god this is awkward, “That just covers pregnancy.”

Peter annoys himself by asking, “Are you seeing other people?”

You shrug - you aren’t, but he’s missing the point, “None of your business. Besides, it takes two.”

“And you don’t know where I’ve been?” he chuckles, breaking the tension.

You laugh too but are adamant, “If this is happening again - condom.”

“Right,” Peter agrees with a quick nod before re-buttoning his shirt and smoothing it down, then focuses on dealing with his hard on. You grin at his desperate attempts to rearrange himself so it’s not so obvious and he grunts at you, “Your fault.”

Throwing your hands up, you step back to give him some space, not wanting to make matters worse. But Peter, this shook up, is too delicious, feels a bit like giving him a taste of his own medicine so you can’t resist -

“Bet this is the first time you wish you weren’t so big.”

He stills, closing his eyes as his hand fists around his cock and groans, “Not helping, Kara.”

“Sorry! I’ll just…” you make your way to the bed and find the remote, but hesitate before turning on the TV - should ask if he wants company, it’s your request that requires a run to the store, after all.

It’s only polite.

“Peter? Do you want me to come?”

By the sour glare he throws over his shoulder, he’s not amused.

“Just wait here,” he orders, shoving his wallet and keys into his pockets. He’s halfway to the door before he switches course and stalks over to you, leaning down to grab you by the chin and plant one more kiss on you, “You’re trouble.”

You beam up, basking in his discomfort.

“Don’t start without me, sweetheart.” with that, he slams the door behind him. ****

Peter always selects a high end rental when he travels, but he’s too preoccupied to enjoy the ride when stuck behind a line of trucks. Apparently he has hit the dinner traffic - every person in this ridiculous town is queuing at the intersection for Main Street - and the drugstore is at the other end. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he checks the clock - if they close early, he’s gonna have to hurt someone.

He sighs, thinking he could have just told you the condoms are unnecessary. He’s clean, prides himself on it, in fact. If you didn’t have such a bug up your ass, he might have tried. Maybe he should tell you he’s not fucking anyone else. He’s irked to learn he doesn’t like that you are. Didn’t think he had anyone - anything other than the shadow of Argent - to contend with. But you’re young, and sexy, and probably spend your nights in bars flirting and taking your pick, so now he feels foolish.

“Hurry the fuck up.” he mutters and gestures at what must be the oldest man alive, who is incapable of parking in one swift movement.

A perplexing flush spreads through his chest at the idea of you waiting for him, which he attributes to the heated seats, jabbing at the button to turn them off.

“Fucking finally.”

There’s just enough space for him to maneuver around yet another idiot who can’t drive and pull into the Walgreens parking lot, breaking into a hurried jog as another image of you pops into his mind. **** After taking a quick shower, you sit cross-legged on the bed, watching TV as you dry your hair. The tepid stream of water did nothing to quell the daydreams of what Peter had in store for you. You cannot hide your eagerness when you hear the ‘click’ of his car locking and him busting through the door.

He tosses a plastic bag to you then undresses at the foot of the bed.

“Why’d you get all this?” you ask, digging through the assortment he’s returned with - a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of body wash, candy, some beef jerky, aspirin, and stashed at the bottom - a large box of condoms.

You laugh, holding up the items, imagining him all flustered, ashamed of his intended purchase, like a teenager.

“Thought you’d like ‘em.” Peter shrugs, joining you on the bed, his hands going to your ankles and tugging to encourage you to uncross your legs.

“I do. Thanks,” you tell him, moving so he’s positioned between your knees, slowly running his palms over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Ripping open a bag of gummy worms, you twirl your tongue around one and suck it into your mouth, feeling his fingers squeeze into your flesh as he watches you. You dangle another in front of his mouth, “Want one?”

“I’m having something else.” With a wink he buries his head between your thighs and when he has you quaking, a few minutes later, you have the sticky sweet taste of fake raspberry on your tongue.

Peter stays, keeping you up till dawn. When he leaves later in the morning, he tells you to text when you have a night or two free.

Colorado:

“Any reason we’re not going in?” you ask quietly, blowing into your hands.

“There’s at least ten of them.”

“There’s four of us…”

You’re working with a father - Darren, his son - DJ, and his nephew whose name you don’t remember, and hating every single minute of it.

Despite the weak afternoon sun breaking through the trees overhead, it’s cold out, and if you have to stand idly by as they take turns with the binoculars for one second longer, you think you’ll scream.

“Too risky.”

You back down after one boy gives you a judgemental stare, “Your call I guess,” and stamp your feet to stay warm.

“We should wait for nightfall.”

“When they’re awake? Yeah, that makes sense,” you comment sarcastically.

“Hey, this is our job. You don’t like the way we run it - you can leave.”

“Okay.”

They nod, glad you know your place and unaware when you turn on your heel and head back toward the road.

You’d taken an instant dislike to the men - not sure if it was sexism or because you just didn’t command attention like Sam or Dean, but you’ve had enough of them bossing you around.

You type an angry text to Clyde, then delete it before coming up with kinder wording as you crank the heater on and wait for your windshield to clear.

Eventually, you settle on telling him you’re working on your own thing and won’t be available to help anyone for a bit. Not his fault these fuckknuckles are complete amateurs.

The entire day has been a total shit show. For starters, Samandriel turned up in your passenger seat with no warning, causing you to drop the overpriced Starbucks you were holding.

Already frustrated, cursing as the hot coffee dripped down your lap, Samandriel looked at you all prissy, which just set you more on edge.

Then you’d accidentally revealed you knew Sam wasn’t in Purgatory along with Cas and Dean, and Samandriel badgered you for close to forty minutes, implying you were being childish and acting stupid.

“But he could help us.”

“If he wanted to be here, he would be.”

“I can ask him - you wouldn’t even have to see him.”

“Fuck! Just drop it, okay?” you hit the steering wheel with your palm, sick of going round in circles. “I’m not dragging him into this.”

“I could make you tell me where he is.” Samandriels voice is icy, but you’re too pissed off to care.

“Fucking try then!”

You peel your eyes away from the road, but he’s gone, and you sigh miserably.

****

Replaying your argument as you drive only winds you up, and you can’t stop yourself from becoming more and more annoyed. You’d only agreed to help Clyde’s buddies ‘cos you were itching for a fight and you can’t understand the point of calling in reinforcements if they weren’t gonna use them. If they wanna hang around the woods and watch a farmhouse all night, well, they can fuck right off and do it without you.

So you’re agitated, boiling with pent up aggression by the time you arrive at the motel and see Peter waiting at your door. Distractedly you press a kiss to his lips, ignoring his affections in favor of pacing around the room, fuming, as you tell him all about the job.

“They didn’t even read the case files!”

“God, stop.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said stop. Stop being such a brat.”

“What the fuck, Peter?” you round on him, taking offense and on the verge of exploding.

He strides over to you, pinning your hands behind your back and pressing you against the counter with his full weight, “You don’t need anyone’s permission.”

He stares at you, daring you to disagree, to push him away and make believe this isn’t exactly what you need.

“If you want to kill something… just go do it,” Peter slides his hands under your shirt, fingers coasting along your hips and the tiny touch anchors you in the moment, “Hell, we can go now.”

“You’d do that? Work with me?”

That’s touching.

“If it would get you out of your head for five minutes?” he reaches his hand up and grabs at your breast, “Yes.”

Maybe not so touching.

“Are we going?” Peter steps away.

“No!” you yank him closer by his jacket, “Later. Tomorrow.”

Doesn’t matter, just not now - not when he’s tweaking your nipple and you can feel him hard and ready, a willing distraction you desperately want. Winding your hands up his chest, you apologize. “I’m sorry.”

“Good.”

“Do I…oh…” your voice falters when Peter pops the button of your jeans and brushes his fingertips along the skin of your belly.

He stops, nodding for you to continue.

“Do I need to make it up to you?” you ask sweetly.

It can stay a suggestion, just loose preambling banter if Peter doesn’t pick up what you’re laying down. But there’s a version of you that’s dying to be set free. You want to stop your mind whirling, to be fucked out, empty-headed, and Peter’s a solid bet to give that to you, even if you can’t come right out and say it.

He feels a twist in his gut at the tremble of need laced through your playful tone, your big innocent eyes tilted up to him, filled with curiosity and longing.

“Hmm,” he pretends to consider it, like a shiver hadn’t just run through his cock, “Maybe you need to be punished?”

There’s a devious glint in his eye as you swallow thickly and give the faintest of nods.

“You’d like that?”

He slips his hands into your underwear, moaning at the wet he finds. “Shit…yeah you like that.”

****

Peter abandons you to remove his clothes and lay back against the pillows before beckoning you over. Your legs move of their own accord, though stop short next to the bed, unsure of what to do next.

“Take your jeans off,” he orders, sounding gruff and almost cold.

He’s clearly done this before, from the smooth way he’s eased into control and how his lips twitch up into a smirk as he watches you.

Complying with his request, you’re suddenly nervous you don’t know what you’re getting into. Can’t help but wonder about Peter’s other partners, spiraling into self doubt as you compare yourself to the imaginary women, maybe men. They’d no doubt have more experience, be more confident than you could ever be. Sexier, you think, self consciously tracing the scars on your abdomen.

Peter sees you nibble the inside of your cheek and play with the stitching along the bottom of your shirt.

The first time you’d been together you were covered in bandages, and the second you’d gotten fully, gloriously bare, but distracted him with your mouth when he went to turn the lights on. Aside from those exceptions, you always keep a shirt on when you fuck. He’s noticed, but never mentioned it, though it drives him crazy that there’s a part of you that you’re keeping from him.

“Shirt?” he tries his luck.

Freezing, your face clouds with an uncertain expression.

“Never mind,” he says, more gently, “Just come here.”

He tugs you by the wrist, splaying you out across his lap. Impatient to get his hands on you, even if he can’t get all of you.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, darling,” he uses a hand to part your legs, “You’re getting ten because you deserve it for being rude.”

“Ten what?” you ask, your voice muffled by the blankets your face is buried in, and Peter chuckles before he answers by swatting your ass firmly. You gasp at the sting and squirm in his lap.

“Ten of those. And you’re going to count them, okay?”

Nodding your head against the crook of your arm, you pray he can’t spot the flush spreading across your skin. You’re sure he does, you’re ass up over his thighs after all.

Turning to risk a glance at Peter’s face, you find him staring down at his palms running over the curves of your cheeks. He slides his eyes to yours, and you’re pleasantly surprised that he looks as excited as you feel. He looks hungry for you and your thighs want to press together but he keeps a hand in place, holding you open.

“Have to say it, doll…. I need to hear you.”

It feels wrong to ask for this, to want it, resembles walking a tightrope. But mostly you only feel his hands, kneading and squeezing, and your cunt clenching around nothing, and it just feels good.

“Yes, yeah - I’ll count.”

He grins, immediately landing a hand on your other cheek, and you cry out “One!”

“That’s it.”

Another smack to your left side, “Two.”

“Good.”

Again, “Three.”

You make it to five easily with Peter talking you through, before he pauses to let you recover while he runs his hand between your folds, gathering up your slick and using it to ease his fingers inside, “See what happens when you’re nice?”

He strikes - six and seven - in fast succession, one hand still pumping away at your pussy.

“Poor little slut, so stressed.”

You bite into your own forearm when he gives you another, harder, spank.

“What’s that?”

“Eig - Shit! Eight!”

“You know what I think?” he teases you mercilessly, moving his hand away. “I think you needed this.”

When you say nothing, can focus only on your cunt throbbing, and trying to wriggle over the hard bulge in Peter’s pants, he grunts out a command - “Words.”

“Yeah - I” he cuts you off with another whack and you scream, “Nine.”

“Doing so well for me, darling, just one more.”

You’re shivering, anticipating the last hit, keening for him to touch you again. He takes his time admiring red handprints while he rubs his thumb over your clit in tiny, torturing circles.

Waits while it builds, witnessing you shake and arch your back and he raises his hand to give you a final slap. You swear you hear when his palm makes contact, but he presses his thumb down on your clit and slams thick digits into you and then it’s only your own moans and sobs in your ears as you come, ending up a writhing, panting mess.

When you’re able to see again, breathe again, you turn over, carefully - so you don’t squish him,

“Fuck Peter,” you sigh, then giggle, practically glowing with bliss, “Ten.”

****

You purposely close the bathroom door louder than is required and shoot Peter - sleeping soundly - a death stare. When he sighs, you roll your eyes and finish fixing your hair into a tidy bun. You’re mad, regretting every choice that led you here.

After your spanking last night, Peter toyed with you for hours, but didn’t fuck you, wouldn’t let you orgasm again. He declared, standing behind you where you knelt on the bed, “Rude sluts don’t get to come.”

You begged and whimpered, tried it all as you watched him stroking himself over your shoulder, but your frustration only made him worse, meaner.

He only barked out orders, “turn over,” “touch yourself” “stop” and you did everything he asked, desperately bending yourself to his will for just the promise he’d make you feel full again.

Then he’d laid down his rule - that when he’s around, you forget about hunting, pay attention to him, only him - and you’d agreed instantly, though you would have said anything at that point.

He’d finished himself off with a satisfied groan, shooting ropes across your stomach before turning over and promptly falling asleep.

Peter ignored your incredulous threats, pretended not to notice when you chased an orgasm on your own instead. He hid his grin, and his erection when you failed, too over-stimulated with his body next to you but off limits, too empty, to reach your release.

“Fuck you.” You hissed at his back before you gave up.

Now he observes you stomping around the room, looking gorgeous in an outfit he’s never seen before with a face like thunder.

“Morning.”

You huff - busy packing your laptop into a handbag, and taking out a mirror to check your makeup. The lighting in the bathroom was shit, and you’re not the greatest at blending.

“You look nice,” you look fucking edible in a knee length skirt, pantyhose, and dress shirt, “Where are you going?”

“Sheriffs….” using your pinky, you tidy up the edges of your lipstick. “Working, remember?”

Peter smiles. You’re pissed off and testing him. He can feel the reflexive instinct in you to pull back. A woeful attempt to regain control. It won’t work, you’re in it now, but this is a part of the game and he’ll play along.

“Course. Give me five minutes.”

“Wait, you’re coming?” you stare after him as he goes to brush his teeth.

“Said I would.”

You think of reasons he shouldn’t, but can’t find many, it’s always smart to have backup and he could be useful if you run into Darren and his lot again.

“Do you have a suit? Or a jacket?”

“Think it’s my first time in a police station?” he digs fresh clothes from his bag and gets dressed, grinning at you.

“I’m sure it’s not…” you say dryly, “What about impersonating federal law enforcement? You alright with that?”

“Not a concern.”

Of course it isn’t - nothing is for him, you think bitterly, hating the way he moves around the room casually, how he exists so comfortably. Acting like last night didn’t happen, that you hadn’t humiliated yourself and he hadn’t been cruel.

“ID?” you ask, trying to rein in your emotions.

“What for?”

“Need to make you a badge,” holding out a hand, you sigh impatiently, “License… or something with a photo.”

Peter plucks a plastic card from his wallet and hands it over. “Will this do?”

Reading the ID, “Montana State Livestock Commission”, you wonder if it’s real, and why he has it, but won’t give him the satisfaction of asking.

You scowl when you see the picture. Fucking typical, even in the grainy, low contrast photo he’s handsome.

“This might work actually, there’s been some cattle deaths.”

He smiles proudly, irritating you further.

“Come on. You’re driving.”

Your wall of disinterest remains up during the journey to the Sheriff’s Station and you stare glumly out the window, opening your mouth only once, to advise Peter that when you go in, he should take the lead, introduce you both and ask to speak to whoever is in charge of the case. He gawps at you, can’t believe what you’re saying.

“You’re older, and you’re a man - they’ll expect me to defer to you.”

You despise it, but it’s the truth and it’ll get you in and out fast.

****

Peter’s far too proficient at being dismissive. You had told him to take the lead, even so, might have been nice if it felt like more of a struggle for him to talk down to you in front of the Sheriff.

“Where to now?” he asks, thoroughly enjoying your simmering rage perfuming the air.

“Morgue.”

“Why?”

“Wanna see the bodies, something’s not right. Plus, I need to restock.”

Peter reminds himself to pull up, tread light, you're moody and he wants to break you. But he wants to do it slowly.

“Restock?”

“Doesn’t matter, just drive.” You snap, reading through the reports from the Sheriff, the headache of Peter temporarily forgotten as you try to figure out what’s vexing you.

****

Handing Peter the syringes you’d filled from the bodies at the Coroner’s, you switch out your sensible, professional flats for your boots.

“What’s in here?” he sniffs, his nose crinkling in disgust.

“Dead man’s blood. Won’t kill them, but slows ‘em down.”

He senses the shift in you as you prepare, an almost visible change while you flick through the report one more time and mutter to yourself. You sit up straighter, eyes narrowing while you chew on a nail.

“Hey,” he moves your fingers away from your mouth, “What are you thinking?”

Before you can snatch your hand out of his, you catch the worried way he’s looking at you. You appreciate him taking this seriously, and manage a small smile.

“The first body was a vamp.”

“So?”

“They’ve probably been here for months, feeding on livestock.”

“Right,” the Deputies had mentioned the local farmers were up in arms about the number of cows going missing from their herds, “And?”

“And…shit…I don’t know.”

You shrug - don’t know why it bothers you, why you feel such an obsessive need to have every little detail before you jump in. If you wait any longer, you’ll be as useless as Darren, staking out the nest while townsfolk keep turning up dead.

Peter seizes on the opening. “C’mon, sweetheart, you’ve got a theory.”

“Just thinking - this could be retaliation, you know? Maybe - if they’d been left alone…”

“They might’ve stuck to beef?”

“Yeah.”

“But they haven’t.”

“Nope,” you smile again, but it’s conflicted and Peter wants to slam the car in reverse.

“Let’s go” you hand him a machete.

Pieces connect and it starts to make sense, coming at you full speed when you’re halfway through the nest. The son, DJ, he’d been limping, and the other guy - the nephew - was the one who shot down all your ideas about how to handle the job. So the encounter, the fire thrumming through you which should have lifted your spirits, had you buzzing with adrenaline for a few hours after - does nothing.

Logically, you should be grateful for Peter’s help, you know this, but he’d proven too helpful, too nimble, and you hadn’t gotten to hit enough, hurt them enough, for your liking.

“You were good in there,” he tells you, rinsing the blood off under an outside faucet.

He means it as a compliment, but your brow just knits in confusion.

Because - no shit, you’re good at this - it’s the only thing you are any good at.

You’re undeniably not good at casual sex or at being alone and seem to fare just as badly when you try to live differently, indulging in the delusion that you deserve something else.

Can’t he tell? Doesn’t he see?

That you’re achingly, transparently bad at stopping bright, shining boys from getting possessed by Nogitsunes or from saving your almost-boyfriend’s daughter.

You turn your back on Peter to change into a fresh t-shirt. You didn’t sign up for this, you don’t need this. Don’t need angels berating you when all you’re doing is trying or idiotic men picking fights they don’t finish with vampires and leaving you to clear up their messes. Don’t need Sam’s silence while he plays house and pets his dog. You don’t need anyone, definitely not Peter goddamn Hale and his infuriating mind games.

****

Peter stews as he drives back to the motel, not comprehending why you’re still angry, why getting your hands dirty and tearing up the vamps hasn’t calmed you. It helped him - provided an outlet for his rising frustrations. Watching you land fists to faces, swinging a blade, getting your pretty little blouse drenched in blood and sweat was enough to soothe his misgivings about accompanying you.

He’d woken up with other plans for the day, but you had ruined them. Working with you was him making the best of an unpleasant situation, wouldn’t kill you to be more appreciative. You should thank him.

Your phone pings, and you chuckle scornfully, reading the message from Darren.

“Assholes. Get this,” you pivot to share with Peter, “Last chance if you want in - meet at the farmhouse at 7.”

He’s relieved to no longer be the target of your ire, “Gonna tell them?”

You tap out part of a text before deciding to call. A girl has to get her kicks somehow.

“Hello?”

“Don’t bother. Vamps are dealt with.”

Darren scoffs, “You took out a nest by yourself?”

“No, I had help.” You smile at Peter, a crack in your armor he intends on exploiting.

“You’re not supp - “

“If you got a problem, talk to your nephew. Ask him why they started chowing down on locals.”

Waiting a beat, you revel in the gratification as your meaning dawns on Darren, “Burn the bodies, and don’t call me again.”

****

Feeling better after laying into Darren, you talk yourself down to something approaching normal while you smoke a cigarette and Peter grabs the first shower.

“So, what now?” he questions after you emerge from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. You stare at him blankly, the late night and exhaustion of the day creeping up on you.

“After a hunt - what do you usually do?”

You picture it - used to be Sam or Dean would get burgers and beers and you’d chill out, rest. Other jobs - ones that didn’t go clean - you’d take off, Dean putting as many miles between you and the case as fast as Baby could manage.

Lately, on your own, you pretty much drink and smoke and drink and rattle around until the sun comes up. Vamps are different, it’s better to hit during the day, so you don’t really know how to fill in the evening.

“Not usually done this early,” you say, deciding you’ll give Peter one last chance to salvage the day; “Thanks for the assist.”

“It was fun,” he admits, facing you, taking in your damp hair and upturned mouth while he pulls down a deep breath. He smiles when he can’t smell bristly prickles of fury any longer, and it stretches wider when a yawn bursts out of you.

“How ‘bout I go pick us up some dinner?” he loops an arm around your waist, “Then you can have your reward.”

Trailing your hands over his broad chest, you lace your fingers behind his neck, impossibly cute as you ask, “Reward?”

“Think I’d leave you hanging, doll?” he tuts, and tips your chin, making sure you’re looking him in the eye before he continues, “You took your punishment,” he drops a leisurely kiss on your waiting mouth, “You’ve earned a treat.”

#wakingupinbeaconhills #peter hale smut #peter hale fanfic #supernatural x teen wolf fic #spn x tw #alan deaton #supernatural fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Hypothetically | Chapter 1-5

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 15k

chapter 1

It took Y/N longer than she had hoped to finally catch up to him. He seemed to go from the cute little boy with a bow tie who sat beside her in her kindergarten class to working for the FBI by the time she graduated high school. It wasn’t fair that he happened to be smarter than anyone on earth, causing him to test out of elementary school before she even got to know him.

Spencer Reid had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the sweetest personality to match. Y/N saw him around as he grew up, coming home to see his mom often and minding his business as he wandered around in his free time.

He liked to sit on the swings at the abandoned park across the street from her house, it was a place he would go to at the most random hours of the day for years on end. Every time he was in the area, he visited the swing. And She’d watch him from her window seat in her bedroom. Pretending to read, but really she was watching him read.

It was years of watching, from the ages of 13 to 18 when he was coming back and forth from working on his second Ph.D., and she was still trying to make it through high school.

But she never walked out there and talked to him, she knew nothing real about him other than his name and that he was smart. The town told rumours about him being an alien or a government experiment because there was no way a kid could be so smart, but she never believed them. She liked to keep to the idea that he was sweet, smart, and special.

He stopped coming to the swing for a while after they turned 18, her mother had said something about Spencer Reid’s mother being admitted to the nursing home she worked at and y/n drew the conclusion that he’d finally left the small Nevada town she was seemingly trapped in.

Y/N kept tabs with him online, as weird as it felt to her she had a strange sense of pride when it came to Spencer’s achievements. That was the kid she sat beside in kindergarten out there working for the FBI, saving lives and changing the world. It inspired her.

So sure enough, when she moved to Virginia to join the FBI academy it was the perfect opportunity to finally be on an even playing field with him. An excuse to reach out to him and catch up, get to know him. She was technically older than him, by 10 months, and yet somehow he seemed to feel unreachable, wiser and more of an adult than she ever would be.

At 28 she finally bumps into him again. She’s carrying boxes into her new apartment with help from a moving company when he leaves the apartment across the hall from her.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer Reid?” she said with the biggest smile spreading across her face.

“Hi?” he says, not having any clue who she is.

“You might not remember me, I’m Y/N Y/L/N we were in kindergarten together in Nevada?”

He takes a moment to think, she watches his eyes flutter as he recalls the memory to his mind. She is mesmerized by how his brain works, like a filing cabinet he can just pull memories out. “Oh, yes we sat together the first day and you got in trouble later that afternoon for adding water to the sand because I had said it was too dry to build a model of the Pyramid of Giza.”

Her smile gets even bigger, “yes! I hope this isn’t weird but I’ve kept up with you over the years, I’ve always thought it was so amazing that someone from my town was off doing incredible things! I can’t believe I’m moving in across from you that makes it look so much worse oh god, I promise I’m not stalking you!” She rambled anxiously.

He laughed, “it’s okay I believe you! I’m surprised honestly that you remember me, we were what? 5? That’s a good memory you must have?”

She walked over to him and out of the way of the men moving her boxes into her apartment, that’s what she was paying them for anyway. She set the box down on the floor beside herself to free her arms, “I think your first ever friend would leave an impact on your memory.”

“We did have a good bond before I was transferred out,” he recalls with a smile.

“Well,” she smiled right back, “I also work with the FBI if you want to get coffee before work on Monday and catch up? See if there’s a possibility of being friends once again?”

“Yeah!” he answers abruptly, “I leave around 7:15 normally and I always go to the little cafe down the road, what department are you in?”

“VICAP,” she said, “just a floor above the BAU, surprised I’m only running into you now”

“You sure you’re not stalking me?” he joked.

She shook her head lightly, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. “Promise, just inspired by you, that’s all.”

He chuckled to himself, almost shocked that such a lovely person would be inspired by him. “Well, thank you. I’ll let you get back to moving in and I will see you on Monday Y/N.” he said with a small wave and walked down the corridor.

She sighed to herself, this was going to be amazing.

---

Y/N had barely unpacked anything by the time Monday had rolled around. She spent most of her time working on her bedroom organization, leaving a mess of boxes everywhere else. Going through her closet to find the best outfit for her first-morning commute with Spencer.

Her job didn’t require as much fieldwork as he did, so she could wear anything she wanted to the office as long as it was professional. She settled on black flared dress pants, a nice white turtleneck, the watch her family gave her when she graduated from the academy and her cute healed wedge boots.

She grabbed her purse and wallet, ensuring she had her keys and badge in there before unlocking her safe and clipping her gun to her belt. She grabbed her go bag and coat and draped them over one arm, holding her purse in the other.

With everything she needed, she walked to her front door, turning off her alarm just to change the setting to protect her empty apartment. She closed and locked the door behind herself just as Spencer walked out into the hallway.

“Good morning Spencer,” she said, cheerful as ever.

“You’re awfully cheerful for this time of day,” he yawned after speaking.

“Late night?” she asked, joining him as he walked towards the building entrance.

“We had an emergency case this weekend that kicked my ass, I’ve only been home for 15 hours. Hopefully, today is just a desk day,” he yawned again. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re tired as well, from moving this weekend.”

“Oh I’m exhausted, normally I don’t leave till quarter to 8, living farther away now is going to suck a bit.”

“At least our building is nice,” he adds.

“It seems wonderful so far.” He held the door for her as they walked into the parking lot, he dug her keys from her bag, “do you want to take my car?”

“Sure, seeing as I don’t have a car, I normally take the subway,” he said softly, walking to the passenger side and opening the door as he heard the door unlock.

“Well if you want a ride every morning I don’t mind, even If you need rides to emergency cases,” she smiled softly.

Spencer insisted on buying her coffee, saying it was only fair for driving him. But really it was because he wanted to spoil her, ever since she said she was inspired by him his mind hasn’t been able to stop playing that sentence on loop. He’s completely enamoured by her, willing to do whatever it takes to get on her good graces. Not realizing she’s willing to do the same for him.

In no time she’s pulling up to the main building, both of them showing their badges before being allowed access into the parking structure of their building. Y/N parked close to the main elevator, having impeccable luck with getting that spot in the garage.

“We still have time before we’re officially on the clock, if you wanted to come meet my team?” He offered, hitting the button in the elevator for floor 3. His floor.

“I’d love to meet the legend that is Penelope Garcia,” she smiled.

“She is wonderful,” he agreed with a smile.

The elevator dinged and she felt her heart drop into her stomach thinking of how Spencer was going to introduce her. He walked with her towards the glass doors, holding them open for her as she walked into the bullpen.

All eyes were suddenly on Spencer and Y/N, so many faces she’s never seen before, and 2 she knows too well from her research on the BAU. She smiled lightly as she walked towards them all. Spencer not far behind her.

“Good morning,” Spencer smiled a small pressed-lipped smile. “This is agent Y/N Y/L/N, she works up in VICAP, she was one of my best friends in elementary school.”

She smiled, so that’s how. “Hello!” She waved, “It’s so nice to meet you all,”

“Derek Morgan,” the tall dark and handsome one reached his hand out for yours.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands sorry,” she said, grabbing her right middle finger with her left hand and smiling lightly.

He laughed, “wow pretty boy, how come you never told us you have a twin?”

“Do you not shake hands either?” She asked him, “we really do have a lot of catching up to do Spence.”

“Emily Prentiss, it’s lovely to see Spence bring in new friends.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve always admired the BAU, I’ve actually compiled a few of the cases you’ve worked on this year, I’m pretty good at finding patterns even the system overlooks.”

“Oh yes, Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve seen your name on all the emails, thank you you’ve sent some of the best-connected cases to us, you’ve brought justice to people who we would have never connected to cases,” JJ said enthusiastically, “I was actually just about to tell Hotch about the newest one you sent me.”

“It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’ve been carefully looking over this case for 2 years now I knew you’d all be able to help with it. It’s right up your ally,” she nervously laughed.

“You sent in the files on the family annihilator that was going after people he believed to be decedents of Cain from the bible right?” David Rossi asked.

She nodded her head and sighed, “yeah everyone told me it was a stretch to catch onto but when I noticed all the men were from the same online ancestry family tree I knew you guys needed to see it.”

“That was specifically interesting, the death of his own brother led him to seek revenge on the father of murder,” Spencer agreed.

“So what’s this new one you’ve brought us?” Derek asked.

“Oh, would you like to pitch it to us? We’re all here we can meet you in the briefing room before your shift starts upstairs?” JJ offered.

“Oh sure,” she smiled, finally it was her time to show off.

Soon enough, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia and Jenifer Jareau were all staring at you in the briefing room.

“In Wichita Kansas, there have been a string of murders over the last 6 years that have all been incredibly, creepily similar,” she started explaining as she handed out the case files to everyone.

“Each victim is female, 16 to 24, they’ve all been strangled with rope while completely naked, signs of brutal sexual assault, binding and torture. They’ve all been found wrapped in shower curtains and placed in various public locations. Clearly a sign of remorse with how he keeps them covered but still a taunt that we can’t find him even now that he’s 6 victims deep.”

“Clarise Richardson, victim number 1 was raped, strangled with rope and left by an underpass. She was found in 1998, the M.E said she was dead 16 hours when they found her, COD was asphyxiation. Her family reports she was last seen at least 73 hours before she was found. So he kept her for a while. There were fibres under her nails of green carpet, either she was held at someone's house or in a van with carpet like they had in the 70s and 80s.”

“Were there any fingerprints or DNA on the bodies?” Prentiss asked.

“Yes, there was a sperm sample retrieved on victim number 5, Sharon Flynn. Most likely he wore a condom for the rest of his rapes and he wasn’t in the system already. Either he never ejaculated in earlier rapes before he grew to murder or his victims never came forward before 1998.”

“which is highly likely, we saw in the EARs case in California how hard it was to get the men and women who were raped to even come forward. There were 4 confirmed cases in the news before more came forward with similar stories. It’s seen as a shameful thing when in reality it’s just giving them more power if they believe they’ll never be caught.” Spencer explained.

“Yes, it’s very hard to come forward when it happens to you,” she agreed before quickly hanging subject. “I’ve been searching for any rapes in the area with similar MO, choking, BDSM, ropes, vans with green carpet, and I’ve found 3 women who claimed to be raped by a man at festivals the late 70’s who had an orange van with green carpet who bonded them up in a very intricate form of bondage that tightened every time they squirmed to entice them not to move. And from my research, that's the same pattern of rope as the rope burn on the 6 bodies we have.”

“All 6 of them are fairly similar it’s just their dumpsites that sets them apart. He didn’t have one strict area that he stuck to, he seems to have no problem travelling to them.” Emily said, flipping through the files.

“I’m thinking he has a job the requires him to still use his van. Like a travelling plumber, a phone or computer tech, home surveillance or maybe even he’s with Jehovah's witness or the Mormon church. It would explain him being able to get into these women’s houses and neighbourhoods long enough to pick someone, learn their schedule and grab them.” Y/N explained.

“Garcia, can you look into those businesses, as well as independent contractors, satellite companies, mailmen, and anyone else who might have been on the job by the victim's houses on the dates and times they were last seen,” Hotch asked.

“Absolutely, I’ll also run the DNA samples in my other databases.”

“I was about to ask you to do that, I think he might have children. There is a very large gap between the rapes and the jump to rape and murder, if you could run the saliva sample from victim 3 that's on her neck with any foster system or genealogy company to see if he has a son or uncle we can trace his sample to?”

“That's a great idea, I’ve never thought to do that,” Garcia smiled. “I like you, you’re a smart cookie!”

“Looks like we’re headed to Wichita,” Hotch said. “Do you think VICAP would be mad if we stole you for a few days? You have more connections with the Wichita police than we do, they might cooperate more If they know a friendly face.”

“Absolutely, let me grab my go-bag from upstairs!” Y/N jumped up, “I’ll be right back down!”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, And with that, she was out the door.

“Reid if you don’t marry her I will,” Penelope said softly.

“Okay.” He blushed.

—

She took a seat beside Reid on the jet, the two of them chatting amongst themselves for a while before they were called for the second briefing.

“So local PD think they have a recent victim from this weekend they want us to check out,” Penelope said over video chat. “she’s a little different than the others. Katie Newton, 27 was found bound to her bed, already having passed and was being assaulted when her husband came home. He screamed at the guy who was only wearing a ski mask and “tight-y white-y’s” as the husband described. He grabbed his bag and clothes with him but he left her tied up with the little time he had to knock the husband out of the way and run out.”

“Did he get any other identification marks on the unsub?” Y/N asked.

“He said he was pasty white, 5’8 and he didn’t talk. He didn’t scream, nothing, he just grabbed his things and ran. He does however remember he had a very large brown birthmark on his chest covering the right nipple down to his stomach.”

“Okay that’s good to know, why do they think it’s our guy?” Rossi asked.

“Blood found on the rope she was tied up with can match back to 13 different women. 6 of the murders that Y/N brought to us, 1 of the rapes she found and 5 other break-in and rapes of other women in the area.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered to herself.

“Well done on finding this one Y/N, this one is going to be big.” Morgan complimented her with a smile.

“Thanks,” she smiled back, “I didn’t expect any of this when I connected the 6 of them originally. This is insane.”

“have you ever been in fieldwork like this?” Hotch asked.

“At the academy, I was combat trained, I have all my clearances and I’m a great shot. I’m good on my feet and I tested perfectly on hostage talk down.” She tried not to brag but this was almost as important as a job interview.

“Well damn,” Morgan nodded in approval. “We might just have to seal you full time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all!”

“Good,” hotch smiled, something he didn’t do often. “I’m going to send you and Reid to the M.E to see what else we can find out about these new break-in homicides. Prentiss and Rossi, I want you to travel to the last dumpsite and the latest crime scene to see what else could connect them. Morgan and JJ come with me to the station to set up communication with the local PD and media we don’t need them naming him like they did with BTK.”

“Garcia, would you also widen the search for anyone convicted of sexual misconduct, flashing, stalking, break-ins where underwear was stolen or and peeping toms? Go all the way back to the 70s. If any of them are now working for any businesses that have vans and require him to travel. This guy has to have a mistake somewhere that you will find.” Y/N asked one last time.

“Got it, genius girl, over and out.”

—-

The bureau had the funds for rooms for the main team, meaning Y/N had to double up with someone and she had to decide who once they landed and headed to the hotel.

“It wouldn’t be weird if we got a room with two queen beds right?” She asked Spencer, “it would give us a chance to catch up in our downtime like a sleepover we never had as kids.” She nervously rambled in the SUV as Reid drove.

“No I don’t mind, It would be fun if we get any sleep in this case. This one seems like it will be a bit of a brain rattler.” Reid agreed with a soft pressed-lipped smile.

They booked their rooms, dropped off their things and all headed their separate ways. The M.E’s office was close to the police station, the two of you in an SUV followed Hotch, JJ and Morgan in another down the road.

The bodies had all been cremated or buried shortly after being found, there wasn’t anything fresh enough to examine for them but they did have access to all the information on all the cases.

“I’ve been the medical examiner here for the last 30 years,” the nice old man said as he led them down the hall to the storage room. “These ones have all been some of the worst cases I’ve seen here. So much so that I keep them all in their own boxes just in case a day like today ever happens.”

“That is very helpful for us thank you so much!” She smiled at him as he held the storage door open.

“They’re all labelled by name and date. If you have any questions about tests or need me to run more with what we have left just give me a holler!” He said as he left the room.

Y/N sighed. “Why do I feel like this is going to take a million years?”

“I can read 20,000 words a minute, it will take me 3 hours to read everything in this room. Luckily we only need to read these few boxes.” Spencer pointed at the wall.

“Okay boy wonder, stop showing off,” she smiled, taking the Victim # 5 case box down first. “She was the first one I put into the system when I joined VICAP.”

“Is that why you sent this case to JJ?”

“Partly,” she sighed again. “There was the emotional attachment of this being my first case but there were just too many connections I knew you guys could bring justice to her family. She was so young.”

Spencer opened a box and she watched as his eyes darted across the pages as he flipped through them. She was mesmerized by how he could do that. But he was probably even smarter than god so it made sense.

“This is interesting. They found LSD in the system of the 3 rapes from back in the day which isn’t that uncommon for the time period or the places where they were abducted, but what’s strange is the amount. This is enough LSD to make someone go insane, no one in their right mind would willingly take this much LSD?” Spencer said.

“They were all found 2 days later dehydrated and alone in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way of knowing if more women didn’t have this happen and died where he left them.”

“He is probably in his 50’s now. How fit would he have to be to still be able to break into houses and rape and murder women?” Spencer asked.

“Well that might be just why he stopped dumping, he might have a bad back and can't lift the dead weight. He is more willing to get caught in someone's house so that he doesn’t have to do the dumping, he can just leave after. 5 of the 6 home invasions were with women who lived alone or husbands who worked night shifts. So they wouldn’t be home. He watched them long enough to know when he could successfully get away with this.” Y/N explained as she flipped through boxes.

“And the rope technique our last victim was found in is exactly the same as the rope burns as the others you’re correct,” Spencer complimented her. “He might have ex-girlfriends or even an ex-wife who he would have tried BDSM on and she didn’t like it, so now he feels like he has to do it this way. When we deliver the profile we should alarm the public about him to draw out any women who would have willingly tried something with our unsub.”

Y/N nodded as he spoke, agreeing with everything. “That could have even been the original stressor, all the women are pretty vanilla, I talked to the husbands over the phone and the original rape victims. They weren’t into trying anything like this in their free time. 2 of the rapes were also virgins. They all had good jobs and good grades, they were outstanding, low-risk members of the community. He might be getting revenge on the women who wouldn’t indulge in this fantasy.”

“He probably feels a lack of control in his personal life, maybe he even has a more dominating wife who he feels he can't stand up to so this is how he deals with it.” Spencer agreed.

“Let's go see Hotch, I think we should deliver the profile.”

—-

They walked into the police station, gliding through the doors like they owned the place. Emily and JJ watched as they walked over to hotch with the exact same energy. Both speaking with their hands and rambling about what they had found.

“So he’s a fit, early 50’s, white male. Married, probably with kids, works with or owns a van. He has a problem with authority in his own life, he feels like he is in a submissive role all day be it from a female boss who’s always on his ass or his wife. It’s possible he even has only daughters and no sons. He feels emasculated, surrounded by women, which is why he started taking these women originally to rape them with BDSM-like acts to finally have that control he lacks in his everyday life.” Y/N explained. “He wouldn’t be very handsome, he would have issues speaking with most women, he keeps to himself, he might have even failed out of jobs involving the police or security, he wants to be in a place of power but he has none of the social skills to accomplish what he wants. I would even look into local army cadets or boy scouts he could be a very old member or the father of someone in one of those groups. His affinity for binding them up and the types of ropes he used are very common BDSM ropes but the knots are reminiscent of ones my brothers would do in at Navy cadets.”

“You got all that from the M.E?” Derek said, shocked at how good she was at this.

“I’ve been staring at his work for 2 years, every time a case from this town came in I checked into it to tie it to this guy. I don’t know what it is but this one gets to me, like BTK or Ed Kemper, these men have specific vendettas against women, they need to dominate women because they have a strong mother or wife in their presence. I know the type of man he is and I want to see him rot in prison.”

Spencer walked over to another table, spreading out a map and beginning to look at the geographical profile. Making down the 3 rapes and their dumpsites, the 6 abducted women and their dumpsites as well as the 6 home invasion homicides. Narrowing down on the geographical profile to find his comfort zone.

Y/N stood beside him watching him draw perfect circles over the map, placing a dot right in the middle. “He either lives or works in this area. Everything is within 35 miles of this area.”

Hotch took out his phone and called Garcia, placing the phone on the table with the speaker on. “Hello my lovelies, what can I do for you?”

“Have you narrowed anything down?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, I have 117 orange vans originally bought in the late ’70s that are still registered to men in this area all between the ages of 45 and 60. 63 of them work in home security, 13 of those have a son in boy scouts and 4 of those have prior peeping tom allegations.” She explained.

“Any of the 4 look interesting?” Hotch asked.

“We have Travis Johnson, 55 he works for Acorn Security, he was doing service in each town that a murder took place the same week they went missing. He is married and has been since 1980 right when he stopped raping and his 5th and last daughter was born the same week that Clarice Richardson was murdered in 1998. They took in a foster child to give him a boy 3 years ago who is in boy scouts, and has all his badges in you guessed it, knot tying.”

“Do we have his home and work address?” Morgan asked.

“Yes of course I do chocolate thunder, they’ve been sent to you already. I’ve also sent a list of his appointments for today, he might be on the hunt.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan smiled at the phone.

“It's what they pay me the big bucks for.”

She hung up and hotch immediately started handing out bullet-proof vests. “Time to catch him.”

Spencer rested a hand on your back as he passed you, smiling as if to say 'good job'.

Y/n grabbed her vest and her go-bag and quickly changed into something more suited for chasing after a runner. It almost always came to that in her experience. She came back out in jeans and a white long sleeve shirt tucked in, her vest on and her hair up. She placed her earpiece in and straightened out her gun. Making sure the clip was full and adding an extra one to her vest.

“Ready?” She asked Spencer as he tightened his vest.

“Let’s do this.”

They split up, Prentiss Rossi and JJ went to his house while Reid, Morgan, Hotch and Y/L/N took a squad of local cops to where the unsub was supposedly doing his house calls.

They slowly drove through the neighbourhoods, lights off just paroling up and down the streets. They saw an orange van parked on the side of the street, they watched as the unsub got out of the driver's seat, grabbing a bag and walking up to a woman’s house. Slowly they all got out of the SUV, Morgan and Hotch taking the back while Reid and Y/L/N took the front door. They waited for confirmation that he wasn’t alone in this home, before going in.

They could hear a woman talking and then there was a scream, “I’m going in,” Y/L/N said, Kicking the door down before Reid took the lead, Y/N following behind him.

“Travis Johnson? FBI!” Spencer yelled.

The two of them cleared the main room, working their way to the hallway, Reid let her take the lead to the bedroom where they heard the struggle.

“Travis put down the rope and let her go,” Y/N said slowly as he walked into the room, gun pointed.

“And why should I?” He panicked, holding the woman against his chest, she was crying gripping onto the rope he was holding tightly around her throat.

“I’m a huge fan of your work!” Y/N said. “I work for VICAP, I’m the one who had to put each and every single one of your victims in the system. I know exactly how much you’re into control and BDSM, it’s honestly surprising that you have to force these women into it, why are women so against letting a big strong man control them anymore?” She said softly as she lowered the gun and her voice.

“You know, I’ve always thought BDSM was super sexy, I’d love to be tied up and taken control of, if you put down the rope how would you like to have a willing participant one day?” She teased him, getting closer and closer, she could see he was rock hard. He loosened the rope and pushed her to the side, stepping forward towards Y/N who quickly flipped him to the floor and cuffed him.

“Travis Johnson you are under arrest for the rape and murder of over 12 women. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one will be appointed for you. If you chose to share anything without a lawyer present you have the right to stop at any time. Is that clear?”

She single handily lifted him to his feet and dragged him out of the room as the men in the hall just watched with awe.

“You’re a little bitch you know that?” The unsub said as he struggled in her grasp.

She slammed him against the hallway wall, pressing right up against his back, whispering in his ear “oh so now you have a big mouth huh, finally feel like you can talk to a woman who isn’t tied down? I’m in control here, you’re my little bitch you hear me? Only good boys get to speak to me.” She said as she pulled him back off the wall and handed him off to local PD. “Have fun being a little bitch in prison Travis.”

She stood there with her arms crossed catching her breath as the adrenalin shook through her body.

“Well done Y/L/N,” Hotch and Morgan put their fists out to give her props.

“How would you like to join the team for good?” Hotch asked? “we’ve been looking for an extra hand.”

“Absolutely!”

—

They were going to spend the night in Wichita, all agreeing to spend the night getting drinks at the local bar suggested by the PD. Piling into the SUV all together with Spencer offering to DD.

“How much time have you put into Travis?” Prentiss asked in the back seat beside Y/N.

“Sharon Flynn was the first case I ever put into my system 2 years ago. Her case looked so gruesome and evil it never left my mind. So then when Alice Webster, number 6 came in I did some more digging and found the 4 before Sharon and the 3 rapes, I knew it was cold for a while but something about him always stuck with me. And for some reason last week when I emailed the info to JJ out of the blue I had a gut feeling he was at it again.” Y/N explained.

“It’s a special talent to just feel when something is wrong.” JJ smiled back at them.

“I’ve always been, not fascinated, by serial killers but more interested in the chase of justice.” She explained, “if that makes sense. I love puzzles and finding answers and at least this way the end result is families finding peace.”

They pulled into the parking lot, all of them finding their way into the bar before the ladies went to the bathroom to freshen up.

“So Y/N,” Prentiss said, taking her phone out and calling Penelope. “The ladies of the BAU are very close, so welcome to our little group.”

“exactly.” Penelope said over the phone, “welcome to the group you’re going to fit right in!” She cheered.

“Thank you, VICAP was not a tight-knit group like y’all are. I’m extremely excited to get to know you all more.” Y/N smiled as she straightened her shirt out in the mirror.

“So you and Spencer?” JJ asked.

“We were in the same kindergarten class,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I thought he was going to be my best friend and then he took some test and was bumped into 4th grade. By the time I was in high school he had already finished his second Ph.D.”

“So you never kept up with each other?” Prentiss asked.

She shook her head. “I knew of him, my mom is the Activities Organizer at the home his mom is at, he used to go to the park across from my house, he now lives across the hall from me and works with me. I think we were always supposed to be friends but it wasn’t the right time till now.”

“Sounds like you have a crush,” Penelope teased through the phone.

“I do.” She smiled to herself. “I think I always have.”

“If pretty boy was here he’d say that there is a statistical likelihood that because you’ve been interested in him for longer than 3 years you’re most likely in love with him and you'll never not be.” Prentiss explained, “I heard him say that to Hotch once.”

She nodded along, “I guess I just need to get him to fall in love with me now.”

“It won't be that difficult.” JJ placed her hand on Y/N’s back and they all made their way out of the bathroom smiling.

The men were all sitting together at a table with everybody’s drinks already waiting.

“We didn’t know what you liked,” Spencer said as Y/N sat beside him. “So I said I’d go get whatever you want.”

“Or we can go up to the bar together.” She smiled.

The two of them got up and walked to the bar, the rest of the team watched them.

She leaned against the bar, ordering her drinks and pressing in close to Spencer. “It’s been so nice getting to spend time with you.” He said softly.

She was handed her drinks before she could even respond. Taking her tequila shot there and bringing her margarita back to the table as Spencer followed swiftly behind her.

They all drank and exchanged case stories from within and beyond the BAU, Spencer was able to add a lot of input but he was always cut off. Y/N leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “you can tell me all your facts later I really want to hear them.” She smiled so softly Spencer felt his heart about to burst in his chest.

Emily left the group to go flirt with the bartender, JJ was on FaceTime in the SUV with Will, Rossi had disappeared with a local woman and Hotch and Morgan were exchanging childhood stories over a beer in the corner.

The bar was playing old, slow music, almost everyone had filtered out but there were still older local couples hanging out and dancing in the middle of the room.

“Do you dance?” Y/N asked Spencer.

“I can try.”

She took his hand and led him to the floor. Drunk on the alcohol and his touch as she slipped his hands around to her back, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head on his chest. She felt his cheek rest on the top of her head as the two of them just swayed in a circle together.

“Do you have any other memories of me?” Y/N asked him softly.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You lived across the street from the park, and your mom works at the nursing home. You have 2 younger brothers who have always looked older than you. They would come and go when I was sitting on the lone swing and I’d always see you in the window reading. I knew you were my age but it still never felt right for me to talk to you when I was in university.”

“I watched you every time you were on the swings, you looked so peaceful. You read at least a book a day every time you were out there and it became so special to me seeing you there every weekend.” She explained.

“The world works in mysterious ways.” He explained.

She held him as close as she could. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect her day to go like this. She expected coffee and a weird goodbye in the elevator and staring at a computer screen all day. Somehow she ended up in Spencer's arms in a different state after having caught the serial killer that's haunted her dreams for years.

He rubbed his thumb lightly over her back, “do you want to go back to the hotel? We have an early flight.” He whispered.

“Yeah,” she smiled pulling back but reaching down to hold his hand as they walked over to Hotch and Morgan.

They drove home quietly, everyone in the back was happily drunk and tired. They parked and wandered up to their rooms, saying goodbye at their doors and disappearing into their rooms.

Spencer let her take the bathroom first, changing into her PJ’s and then he did the same. She laid in her bed, facing his as he sat up and read.

“Can I come lie beside you?” She asked, knowing exactly how needy she sounded.

He nodded, pulling the sheet back so she could slip right in. She laid on her side and just looked up at him. Absolutely astounded that she was with him.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Spencer asked, putting his book down and sliding down the bed to be on her level.

“Yeah?” She said nervously.

“Today you said it’s hard for people to come forward after they are assaulted, it sounded like personal experience and I wanted you to know if you need anyone, I’m always available for you.” He explained.

“Oh,” her face dropped. “I was 12, he was 15. You were in high school at the same time as him. I don’t know if you’d remember him, his name was Christopher.”

Spencer nodded along as she spoke. “When my mom finally went back to work she didn’t trust me watching my brothers alone so her friend offered to babysit us during the days. Her foster son took advantage of me the whole summer and when my parents finally found out he went into Sophomore year and told everyone that the nerdy girl who looks like bugs bunny was obsessed with him, that I stalked him and that anything I said about him wasn’t real.”

“I’m so sorry.” He rubbed his hand over her shoulder to soothe her.

“It’s okay, they used to call me bugs bunny because of my overbite. I used to rest my front teeth on my front lip and they would throw carrots at me,” she explained further.

“It all makes sense now,” he said softly.

“What does?”

“When I was 13 the seniors had a cheerleader invite me onto the football field and convinced me to strip down to my underwear, she was about to kiss me when all the football guys ran out and beat me up, they tied me to the goal post and the one said ‘we should really hook you up with bugs bunny, you losers would be perfect together.’ And they left me there all night long.”

“Oh Spencer I am so sorry,” she cuddled in close to him, placing her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I think we went through our traumas separately all these years because something bigger than us knew we’d need each other one day.”

“When we get back to Virginia, would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked.

“I would want nothing more.” She hugged him a bit tighter.

They stayed like that for a while until Spencer felt Y/N slip into the night's slumber. He quietly reached for the lamp, turning it off and readjusting himself under Y/N’s grasp.

He fell asleep not so long after. Both sleeping soundly for the first time in a long time.

Chapter 2

They had 3 back to back cases once they arrived back at Quantico. They travelled from DC to California to North Carolina within 2 weeks of Y/N working with the BAU.

Meaning she had not yet gone on that date Spencer asked her out on.

“If we get another call as soon as I reach that elevator I am leaving and not coming back. I am exhausted,” Emily said as she packed her bag and all but sprinted for the door.

“I hope my car still runs, it’s been parked here for so long now,” Y/N added and she walked towards the door. “You coming Spence?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car,” he said with a smile as he waved her off.

Emily and Y/N waited for the elevator, Penelope and JJ quickly followed behind them with their bags in their hands. Penelope’s heels clicked as fast as they could against the floor as she tried to catch up.

“Girls night?” JJ asked, “Will said Henry is asleep and he’s about to go to bed too, so I’m free for a bit?”

“I have to go home, I’ve barely moved into my new apartment, I still have to unpack,” Y/N explained.

“How about we come have some wine and help you?” Emily offered.

“If I’m being honest, I kinda want some alone time with Spencer.” She blushed bright red.

“Oooooo,” Penelope and JJ teased.

“It’s about time someone gave Spencer the attention he deserves,” Emily laughed.

“Believe me he’s going to get too much attention now that I live across the hall from him, work with him and carpool with him,” she giggled right back. “Has he never had a girlfriend before?”

“Not that we know of,” JJ said, “he’s very quiet.”

“Have you?” Penelope asked, “dated before that is?”

“oh no, I’ve never dated anyone before, I haven’t even kissed anyone in years,” she said feeling bashful and embarrassed.

“I think that's what Spencer needs though,” Emily added, “He needs someone on the same level as him all ‘round, you two match in every sense it’s almost perfect.”

“He’s probably the only man who doesn’t make me feel scared like I want my first real love to be with someone I feel safe with, I don’t think I could do anything with like, Morgan or Hotch or any men like them. They’re nice, yeah but the aggressive authority side isn’t something I’m comfortable around outside of work.” She explained.

“Yeah, Spencer is a sweetheart. I think that’s why I didn’t end up with him honestly.” JJ said softly, “Gideon tried to hook us up years ago cause we were the youngest on the team, but I do crave that authority outside of work.”

“It’s probably because you’re in power here. You handle the media, you wear the pants and you get shit done,” Y/N said, “you want to go home and be taken care of by a man who knows how to run a household.”

“Exactly!” JJ laughed.

“I want to be taken care of, yes, but I rather be the caretaker at home. I just want someone who will do their own thing with me in the same room, to kiss me before we go to bed and make sure I know they love me.” Y/N said softly, only picturing a life with Spencer as she said it.

The elevator never moved the whole time they were in there, it dinged and opened to Spencer and Morgan waiting. “You guys are that tired you didn’t even make it to your cars?” Morgan teased.

“didn’t even push the button actually,” Y/N chimed in.

“We were having girl time,” Penelope smiled.

“well let’s go home finally,” Morgan and Spencer walked in, pressing the button to the garage and riding down in silence.

Spencer waited for Y/N to exit the elevator last before walking with her to her car. She unlocked it and got in, watching and waving as her new friends pulled out of the garage.

“Ready?” She asked, pulling out as soon as she saw Spencer nod his head with his cute little pressed-lip smile.

They drove home in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet for the first time in weeks. The drive was quick, 30 minutes in the cold, dark, Virginia wilderness.

She parked in their parking lot, yawning as she turned the car off. She grabbed her purse from the back seat and made her way inside with Spencer.

“You going to sleep?” She asked him when they reached her door.

“Probably not, my brain is still too caught up in the cases,” he said honestly.

“Would you like to come in for some tea? To calm down before bed?” She offered as she unlocked her door.

She stepped inside, unlocking the alarm with the 4 digit code. Spencer tried his best not to listen but he failed, he’ll remember the sound of the code forever now.

She flicked on the light and looked around at the mess she left in her living room. “God I forgot it’s a mess in here,” she groaned.

Spencer followed her inside, following her lead and dropping his bag on the floor. He watched as Y/N walked around the house with her hand on her gun, clearing each room to make sure it was still safe.

“Sorry, I live alone, I don’t take any chances,” she said as she came back into the room.

She unlocked her safe and placed her work gun inside, closing it and spinning the lock right after. She let out a deep sigh, stretching her arms out over her head. “It’s so nice to be back in this mess.”

“I can help you unpack this weekend?” Spencer offers.

“If you want to that would be nice, I’ll order us some take out too.”

She picked up the boxes on her couch and moved them to the floor, she cleared off her coffee table and took the lamps out of the box in the corner. She plugged them into the wall and set them on the end tables. Luckily her furniture was in place all she had to do was put out all her little trinkets, books and photos.

Spencer took a seat on her couch, opening a box with mugs and cups, taking them all out of their bubble wrapping and setting them on the coffee table.

Y/N managed to find her kettle, as well as the box of random food she brought from her old cupboard. She set out a variety of teas and digestive biscuits.

Spencer slowly brought the mugs over, placing them in the cupboard of Y/N’s choosing, making sure he left 2 mugs out for them.

“Can I have a green tea?” Spencer asked softly.

“Of course, is it your favourite?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I would like some caffeine but I’m not interested in having a coffee, so this is a good middle ground.”

“I’m not a fan of most hot drinks, that's why I drink ice coffee in the mornings,” Y/N poured the hot water into both cups, leaving room for milk in both mugs just in case. “But, Orange Pekoe is my favourite.”

She placed a tea bag in each mug and handed Spencers to him.

She watched him add a little sugar to his mug before picking it up and returning to the sofa. She followed him shortly after adding milk and sugar to her own, as well as a plate of cookies.

She sighed as she settled in to the couch. “Going to try my hardest to manifest a full weekend off, with no cases, if my spirit guides loved me they will listen.” She jokes.

“You’re spiritual?” He asks.

“A little?” She shrugs, “I’m very into natural medicine, lunar cycles, manifesting and affirmations. Basically what would be considered a witch back in the day.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I had a pretty invasive surgery when I was 17, and because of the body trauma, I developed fibromyalgia. And there really aren’t any answers or explanations for it so I had to turn to something to bring me peace and pain relief.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s okay, eating right, taking my supplements, sleeping and exercise help. Basically, if I take care of myself my body will thank me,” she huffed out a small laugh. “It’s annoying waking up in pain randomly for no reason. I rather wake up sore from taking down an unsub, at least then, the pain is more like a reward, you know?”

Spencer nodded along and smiled softly, “I’m glad you found something that helps you.”

“How about you? I’m guessing you’re a science-only man?”

He laughed, “yes.”

“So do you believe in soulmates?” She asked on a whim.

“In the scientific sense of the word yes. I believe when the big bang happened, all the atoms, electrons and particles that split to make the universe as we know it, still exist in us today. Who’s to say that they don’t pull back to each other, causing a cosmic connection,” Spencer explained softly, his voice low as he explained himself.

Y/N set her drink down, moving in closer to him on the couch. “And how do you know when you’ve met your other half?” She asked. Her voice was just as low.

Spencer set his mug down as well, he placed his warm hand on her cheek, “I think everything would just make sense with them. They’d orbit each other's lives for so long, observing and acknowledging one another and finally one day they’ll connect.”

He leaned in and pressed his perfectly soft lips against hers. She reached her hand around the back of his neck and held him into the kiss. Breathing in deeply through her nose, trying to keep the moment forever.

She pulled back, her breathing was deep as she opened her eyes to look into his. “If you weren’t just explaining the big bang to me, I’d think that was it.”

He laughed at her joke, making both of their hearts soar. She pressed him back against the sofa, adjusting themselves so that she was lying partially on top of him as they cuddled in her crowded living room.

They could hear the sound of the world going on around them. The subtle hum of the subway below them. The distant car horns, someone upstairs was walking around in their apartment.

They were completely quiet then, just cuddled up in their own world without any distractions. The two of them let their hands wander each other as they laid there.

Y/N slowly sat up, peeling herself out of Spencer's grip. “Do you want to spend the night here?”

“I’m just going to run across the hall and get ready for bed, I can lock up when I come back?” He said softly.

“Okay, the button with the person inside the house is the one you hold down on the alarm system after you lock both locks,” she explained before standing up and walking into her bedroom.

She changed into a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. She brushed her teeth and hair, throwing it up in a little bun. She took out her contacts, replacing them with her glasses. She washed her face, watered her plants and sat down in her bed finally.

She had her hand on her night side drawer, where she keeps her other gun, just in case the person coming into her house wasn’t Spencer. But then she heard the alarm system arm, both locks clicked, the sound of dishes being placed in the sink and finally the sound of a lamp being clicked off.

Spencer slipper clad feet against the hardwood floor is all she heard as he walked into her room. He took the right side of the bed, wearing his PJ bottoms and a regular t-shirt. It was really the first time she was him so dressed down.

She settled down into the bed, she put her glasses on her side table, plugged in her phones and turned out the light. Spencer spooned into her, cuddling in tight and holding her against his chest.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” She whispered.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

She didn’t fall asleep right away. She basked in the glory that was Spencer Reid’s warm embrace. The feeling of his breath against her neck and his hand on her stomach.

“I love you.” Was the last thing she thinks she heard before she finally fell asleep.

—

She woke up to her phone ringing. She reached over to the nightstand and clicked talk. “SSA Y/L/N,” she said.

“Hey, it’s Penelope.”

“What’s up?”

“Not a case don’t worry, I was just wondering if I could stop by with some iced coffee and breakfast sandwiches to help you unpack?” She asked way too cheerfully for whatever time it was.

“Uh yeah just give us a chance to wake up, can you come by in 30?” She said as she rubbed her eyes, waking up.

“Us?”

“Uh, yeah, Spencer came in for tea and slept on the couch,” she lied.

“No I didn’t,” he groggily chimed in from where he was cuddled into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Right okay, so I’ll bring Spencer some breakfast too then,” she said before hanging up.

Y/N placed the phone back on her night table, settling back into Spencer’s embrace.

“Why’d you lie?” He asked.

“Didn’t know if I had your consent to tell her about us yet,” she whispered into his hair as she placed kisses on his head.

“Morgan told me if I didn’t kiss you last night, he’d make me do another round of physical evaluations,” he smiled against her skin. “He wanted to win the bet everyone set to see who would kiss who first.”

“So you just helped the guys win?”

“Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch were betting for me to kiss you first,” he admitted.

“Well, that means Rossi, Garcia and JJ think I’m the one wearing the pants here. Good to know,” she giggled.

“You can wear the pants,” he said as he shifted his weight to look up at her, “as long as I get to take them off later.”

“Well, Dr. Reid, I never thought you’d have it in you,” she was pleasantly surprised.

“When I get comfortable around someone I’m a lot different than I am at work,” he explained, “I heard what you said about needing someone to take care of who still wants to take care of you.”

She blushed, “of course you did.”

He leaned down to kiss her jaw and down her neck. “I think we can work something out,” he whispered.

Her breathing hitched. She couldn’t believe the complete 180º his personality just took, and she wasn’t complaining. All the moisture left her mouth as she just nodded her head in agreement.

“We should get up before she gets here,” he said, kissing her one last time before crawling out of bed.

She laid there staring up at the ceiling, shocked, flabbergasted, enamoured, basically every single word that essentially meant ‘what the fuck just happened.'

She got up, turned off the alarm and waited to use the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and replaced her tank top with a sweater. Spencer slipped across the hall to change into jeans and a button-down shirt, almost like he couldn’t be in anything else around his friends.

Penelope was a hugger, she made sure to give Y/N a good squeeze as she walked into her apartment. “It’s literally the same as Reid’s just backwards,” was the first thing she said.

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been over there yet,” Y/N smiled, taking the coffees out of Penelope’s hands and setting them on the counter.

“JJ and Emily said they’d love to come help later too if you want them to, but it doesn’t look too bad for just the 3 of us,” she said looking around.

“Everything is labelled, my room is all done so you don’t need to worry about it, set up however you see fit, honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss figuring out how to make this place feel more like me with what I have.”

“Alright, well,” she started, looking for the box with the cleaning supplies. “First we clean the kitchen then we put everything where it has to go.”

So that's what they did, they spent a few hours wiping down every surface in the house, disinfecting the floors, the walls, door handles, nobs, everything. Then Penelope got out all her pots and pans, hanging them on the rack above the kitchen island.

Spencer took all the plates out, stacking them neatly in the cabinet. Y/N stacked her cups and glasses, placing them on the shelf with the glass door. They organized her utensils, baking equipment, cookbooks and aprons, asking all about how much she baked.

She offered to make cookies for the team soon, that was a Sunday night with Spencer activity for sure.

In the living space, there weren’t many things. Spencer unpacked the books and placed them on her shelves in library-coded order. While Penelope and Y/N unboxed all her albums and records, cheering and singing along to their favourites.

Y/N had never quite had friends like this before, people who just fit into her life so easily. This was really the best family in the FBI, they knew how to make someone feel completely and wholly loved.

“I need to get some art and stuff,” Y/N said staring at the one empty wall.

“What are you going to do on the fireplace mantle?” Spencer asked, noticing it was still empty.

“Probably some of my spiritual stuff, like my crystals and candles and incense,” she smiled.

“oh, I do that too!” Another thing they had in common.

The day blew past them. They finished unpacking and breaking down all the boxes by 2 pm, finally sitting down altogether, exhausted. Ready to order a few pizzas and chill for the rest of the afternoon.

—

“I really appreciate the help today,” she said as she hugged Penelope. Penelope’s hugs were more comforting than her own mother’s, she thought. Holding her tightly and taking it all in. “I’m so blessed I ran into Spencer and now I get to be your friend.”

“I will cry,” she joked as she hugged y/n tighter. “I’m very blessed to have met you as well.”

She hugged Spencer on her way out as well, forcing herself to leave or else she would have stayed and talked for hours.

As soon as Spencer closed the door behind her, he set the alarm the way Y/N liked it. She smiled at him, seeing him remember how she likes to feel completely safe.

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. “Would you like to make out with me on my bed?”

“Like horny teenagers?” He giggled, dropping his forehead to rest on hers.

“We never really got the horny teenage experience,” she said softly.

“Are you-?” He cut himself off before he could say the word.

She looked up at him, her eyes big and innocent, she nodded. “technically.”

“Technically?” He repeated softly.

“I don’t want to count my sexual assault as my first,” she whispered. “I’ve never let anyone touch me since.”

His arms wrapped tighter around her, pulling her in closer to be right against his chest. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, forehead, nose, and finally her lips. “I’m going to try my best to never hurt you.”

She kissed him deeper, her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting to part from him. But when she did, she whispered, out of breath. “Promise to only hurt me if I ask you to?”

He saw the way his breath hitched and the way his grip changed. His face went red as he nodded feverishly.

“Are you a virgin Dr. Reid?” She teased.

“No,” he whispered. “I uh had sex in college, just to get it out of the way.”

She broke out of his grasp, taking his hand and pulling him into her bedroom. She closed the door behind them flicking on her fairy lights and lighting a couple of candles. He sat patiently on her bed as he watched her nervously organize things that had no reason to be organized in that moment.

But he let her calm down until she was fully ready, or she changed her mind. Either way, he was going to hang out with her all night long, however she wanted him.

“Close your eyes,” she asked softly. “Lay back against the bed and don’t look at me yet.” She ordered him and he listened.

He pressed his eyes closed and scooted up the bed till his head was on a pillow, laying back with his hands over his eyes. He listened closely to the sound of her taking her clothes off. She tried to steady her breath as she pulled off her sweater and sports bra and replace it with something cute.

She put on her only pair of matching underwear, ones she got on sale at some department store that she only wore for herself so far. She crawled up the bed, sitting directly on Spencer's hips.

She took his hands off his eyes, noticing they were still closed, she smiled. She placed his hands on her bare hips. “Open them.”

He opened his eyes to the most stunning image he’s ever seen in his life. Blinking a few times as his mind burned the image into the back of his eyelids for the rest of time. “Fuck,” he whispered.

She smiled to herself, “thought you’d like it.”

She leaned down, arching her back and kissed his neck. His hands travelled from her thighs to her perched ass as she kissed up his jaw to his ear. He was nothing but breathy moans and thank you’s as she explored him.

She ground herself down on his growing erection, smirking against his skin. She sat back on his hips, wiggling as she undid each of his shirt buttons, way too slow.

She took her time, pulling the front of his shirt out of his jeans and finally spreading the shirt open. Her hands ran over his chest before she used her nails to scrape her way down to his jean buttons.

He reached for her hands then. Stopping her and looking up into her eyes. “Before we start, I need to know what will trigger you,” he said softly.

“Oh,” her face dropped a little, she was a little overwhelmed with the fact he was asking, but she knew he truly cared. “I can’t do blowjobs yet, I will probably have a panic attack.”

“I can live without them,” he smirked, “look at everything else you do, fuck you’re amazing.” His hands roamed her skin the whole time.

She tucked her ankles under his knees and in one swift moment flipped them from laying on his side of the bed to the middle. He was on top of her now, absolutely amazed that she could do that.

“Told you I was combat trained,” she giggled.

Spencer sat up on the bed, ripping his shirt off and pushing himself out of both his jeans and underwear at the same time. Her mouth couldn’t help but fall open and the sight of his perfect cock bouncing free.

He sat back, trying to tug his jeans off of his ankles when he fell back and landed on the hardwood floor, “Spencer!” She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her.

He huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she quickly bit her lip to try and stop laughing.

“When you said horny teenager phase I didn’t think you meant the awkward part too,” he smiled, standing completely naked in front of her.

“Get back here,” she giggled.

He got right back on top of her, between her legs that she wrapped immediately around him. Locking him in place. “How would you like it?” He asked.

“Well hypothetically,” she began with a smirk, “I think I would like to ride you, sitting up, tits in your face, the whole shebang.”

He forgot how to breathe, the most beautiful girl in the world just laid out how she wants to be fucked like it was a science experiment.

He was in love with her.

She flipped him again, “you have to stop doing that!” He gasped.

She laughed as she sat up, getting off him enough so he could sit up against the headboard. She shimmied out of her underwear before sitting down on him again, their most intimate parts just resting close to one another. She shivered at the feel of his hot skin against hers. She’d never been this close to another human before.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked, suddenly shy.

“If you want one yeah but I have an IUD in case I get,” she stopped herself, “you know, in the field.”

“Yeah that's smart,” he was so nervous.

She leaned in and kissed him. Holding his cheeks in her hands as his hands reached behind her back to undo her bra. She opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue as she felt the straps of her bra slip down her shoulders.

She let go of his face one hand at a time and peeled the bra from her skin. Flinging it across the room without looking and pressing her breasts against his chest.

She gets on her knees without breaking the kiss, reaching between them she grips the base of his cock. His breath hitches in his throat and she can feel his pulse in his shaft.

She drags the head through her folds, she breaks the kiss to breathe in his ear, “you know, you’re just a bit bigger than what I'm used to.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She lines him up with her and slowly pushes down on him, pulling up and back down again, each time getting his cock a little wetter on her juices so he can slip in easier. “I think it was called the emerald stud, he’s in a box over there,” she whispers in his ear as she bottoms out.

She sits back, her arms around his shoulders, she rocks on his cock. His eyes slip shut as he dips his head back against her crossed wrists. “Fuck,” he breathes.

She shifts again, bouncing more on him when she’s used to his size. His hands are on her ass again, helping her bounce as he moved to kiss her neck and collarbones.

He’s all noises, hot breath against her chest and sloppy kisses. She reaches between them to rub her clit before he pushes her hand out of the way to rub her himself. Feeling how swollen she is, he squeezes her clit lightly.

She moans out a high pitches squeak that she had no idea she could make, covering her mouth as she bounced a little harder on his cock. “Fuck Spencer,” she whispered into his hair.

He kissed her ear again, “you want me to cum in you?” He asks.

“God yeah, fill me up,” she replies without thinking, tossing her head back and grinding down ever so provocatively on him.

She presses her front against him more, causing the friction from his index finger on her clit to get more intense as she bucks her hips faster and faster against him.

He’s gone. Absolutely destroyed. He cants even worn her that he’s about to cum he just tips his head back and fucks up into her, gripping her ass so tight that he knows she’s going to have 5 deep, finger-shaped, purple bruises around each ass cheek.

Her orgasm rips through her, losing balance with her shaking thighs she gasps for air, falling into him with her face in the crook of his neck. She is breathing so hard as she comes down, she drools on his neck a little.

He pulls his hand out from between them, flicking her clit on last time. Sending a tremor through her body. She twitches against him, tensing up and tightening around the cock still inside her.

He moans once more, and she feels the tiniest trickle of cum slip out of her as he lifts her off him.

They don’t talk. They just hold onto one another, breathing and rubbing their hands over each other's skin.

“Wow,” Spencer finally says.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“Hypothetically,” he says with a smile, “I think the outcome we reached was the intended goal?” Only Spencer Reid would make a joke like that after sex.

She laughed and kissed his neck, “very successful, I would be willing to switch techniques next time to see if we can repeat this outcome.”

“Sounds like a date.”

chapter 3

They worked together perfectly. Every morning he’d head across the hall to his own apartment to get ready, coming back to a slice of toast and coffee in his travel mug ready to go.

She looked gorgeous every morning. She put time and effort into what she wore to work, just to chase psychopaths all day. He was in love with her, its the only thing he knew for sure when he looked at her. He was never going to recover from falling for her.

He’d hold all her things while she sets the alarm and locks the door. She would drive them to work each morning and even then he’d carry all her things up to the office.

Everyone noticed how Spencer changed around Y/N, he was always smiling, he was basically glowing from being in love, and having sex. Derek teased him constantly, but in all honesty, he was really proud of his little bro.

They had a slow day, which meant all the ladies filed into Penny’s office to shoot the shit when they were really supposed to be writing reports.

“So?” Penelope looked at Y/N with an arched eyebrow. “How is he?”

She shook her head and giggled to herself. “Really good.”

“Really?” Emily pried?

“He has this other personality that comes out when we, you know,” she was afraid to say fuck inside the walls of Penelope’s office. “I’m addicted, I was so afraid to have sex and now I’m like having an internal battle of is it really worth getting caught in the filing room for a quicky!”

They all burst into laughter, sharing stories of all the times each of them has fucked at work, “you won't get caught if you let us help you?” JJ said with a smirk.

“You’re kidding?” Y/N tilted her head, not believing her.

“I can ask Morgan and the team to lunch while you stay here, text Spencer saying to stay back to get work done but he can meet you in here.” Penelope planned the whole thing.

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable enough for that yet.” She was being completely honest.

“We need a code word for when you choose to use this plan,” Emily said. “Like you group text us the word ‘switch’ and we will keep everyone busy for you and Spence.”

“Why do you want me to fuck him here so bad?”

They all laughed, “because we’re not used to Spence getting this kind of love!” JJ said. “Emily and Penelope covered for me literally when me and Will made Henry.”

“having a hand in making my godson gave me a god complex,” Penelope joked.

They got along fabulously, laughing and working all afternoon before the boys came to get them.

“We got something.”

Y/N walked out first joining Spencer in the hall with a smile, standing close enough to him as they walked that their knuckles rubbed together. She sat beside him in the briefing room, opening the case file in front of her and flipping through the info.

“Wow,” she whispered to herself. “I know a few of the 13 women, I put them in the missing system.”

Spencer rubs his hand over her back softly, looking at the pages she’s flipping through.

Garcia wasn’t cheery anymore, she grabbed the remote for the tv and started her rundown.

“Over the last 6 days, police in Winnemucca Nevada have dug up 13 bodies of women who have gone missing in the last 10 years. He seems to kill sporadically without patterns. M.E has confirmed all 13 women, and de-comp shows they were all killed within 24 hours of going missing.”

“Cause?” Prentiss asked.

“All 13 were strangled with plastic shopping bags, that were left wrapped around their faces in the graves. They were all sexually assaulted antemortem, but not all of them died from asphyxiation. He also stabbed 9 of the 13 victims, 5 of which died from massive blood loss. But the real kicker was that all 13 of them had their wombs removed.” Penelope finished.

“Do we know if any of them were pregnant?” Y/N asked.

“Yes,” she said flipping through slides, “victim number 13, Traci Purcell was 17 and according to her autopsy, her HCG levels indicated she would have been 3 weeks along when she was murdered.”

“Are they able to see if the others were pregnant?” Hotch asked.

“They’re working on it, best bet will be for me to pull medical records and to ask the family.”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch nodded towards the door.

Slowly but surely they all filed into the plane, Y/N took a window seat, quickly burying her head in the file, looking at each and every victim carefully.

“Spence, would you help me place the geographical profile?” Y/N asked him softly as he got comfortable in the seat across from her.

“Once we take off we can spread out the map,” he smiled softly back at her. Even when dealing with the hard cases they managed to get caught up in each other's eyes.

“Okay love birds, can I sit here too or will I get more than air sickness?” Morgan said, pretending to feel sick as he sat beside Y/N.

She smacked his arm lightly.

“Speaking of,” Spencer said, stopping to swallow nervously. “Hotch I’m going to need 2 of the workplace fraternization forms when we get back.”

Everyone on the plane cheered at him, he got 3 high-fives and all the congratulations in the world. Y/N immediately felt her face warm up.

“Don’t worry, Garcia filed them for you that night she helped you unpack,” Hotch smiled into his paperwork.

“How did she even know?” Y/N’s voice went up 3 octaves as she panicked.

“At least we know when pretty boy lost his V card now,” Morgan smirked.

“No, just me.” Y/N corrected him. To which Spencer was given yet another high five.

Just then Spencer was handed $20 from Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan. Y/N raised an eyebrow, “why?”

“I bet them $20, years ago, that I am in fact not a virgin and they said they would and I quote ‘only pay me if a woman who has fucked me confirms it.’ So who’s going to tell Gideon to pay up?” He explains.

The team carried on like normal after all the excitement died down. Having side conversations, working on the case, sleeping. The trip from Quantico to Winnemucca was fairly quick.

Y/N sat with Spencer at the table, spreading out the map and watching him place where all 13 victims disappeared from as well as where they were found. They were spread over 3 subdivisions, all 35 miles at least away from the burial sites.

“The park,” Spencer said softly.

“Is that the middle ground?”

“Yeah there’s something significant with the park,” Spencer confirms.

—

Spencer and Y/N went to the M.E together, all 13 women were labelled and displayed under white sheets. They took their time looking over each skeleton and the bodies.

“Clean cuts on the stomach, I wonder why he didn’t stab her?” Spencer said as he looked at the 13th victim.

“She might have cooperated better, or and I hate to say it but, seeing as she was Asian there is a high chance she didn’t bear resemblance to the source of the unsubs rage meaning she got to go out a little easier,” Y/N suggested with a disgusted look on her face.

“The 5 who died of blood loss were all white, brown hair, green eyes. 3 were 26, 2 were 29. They might be exactly his type,” Spencer confirmed the theory.

“They were also murdered,” she flipped her notebook open to show a chart with 5 columns. “June, February, June, November, November. Could also mean something to him.”

“What is that?” Spencer asks.

“It’s a chart that has the name, their age, the missing date and last scene location, the estimated date of death, and the cause. So that I can easily refer to the most important info when making a connection,” She explained. “My brain works better if I can see everything, so I also have my own little hand-drawn map of the area on his page as well as all my ideas in case I don’t get a turn to speak.”

“That’s really smart,” he smiled.

“So June, November and February might be significant to him.”

“Let’s go tell Hotch.”

Spencer drove for once, Y/N sat in the passenger seat in the SUV, doodling into her notebook.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Spencer asked.

“I wrote down the first letter of each month,” she explained, showing him the notebook. “And I circled each of the 3 months that repeat, February, June and November.”

“Okay?” He followed along.

“From February to November it’s 10 months or 40 weeks which is the typical length of a pregnancy,” She explained further. “This whole thing is clearly about pregnancy seeing as he is taking wombs. It’s clearly not a woman seeking revenge because of the sexual assault so it has something to do with him seeking revenge for a pregnancy in his life.”

“Could even be his own, like he’s punishing women who look like his mother because he wishes he was never born,” Spencer ponders.

They pulled into the police station, she got out and walked in all with her head still in the notebook. “Find anything?” Hotch asked.

“Of course she did,” Spencer bragged about her.

—

They all took a break, going back to their hotels to get some rest. All agreeing that since the media hasn’t released anything about this case yet the killed has no idea. They take it in faith that he will stick to his 2 to 4 month waiting period.

They all returned the next morning, refreshed and ready to resume their findings. JJ and Emily spent most of the morning interviewing families of the victims, specifically asking if they knew the vic was pregnant as well as what significance the park played in or around their pregnancies.

Y/N sat in silence with a coffee, flipping through her notebook. Hotch and Morgan were running over ideas they all had with Garcia on the phone.

“Hey, Spence?” Y/N called boy wonder over from the map he had been staring at.

“Yes, my love?” He says softly.

“I think I have an idea, can you go over it with me before we tell the team?” She asked.

“Of course,” he took a seat beside her.

“Why do I have an IUD?” She asks him in a whisper.

“In case you get raped in the field,” he whispered back.

“More specifically.”

“So you don’t get pregnant as a result of a rape in the field.”

“The sexual assaults in his mind, are him getting these victims pregnant. But they’re already pregnant when he picks them right?” She explains, “So that when he removes the uterus postmortem it's his way of aborting the child.”

“So this is all about abortion?” Spencer confirms.

“More specifically to do with how you said he regrets being born,” she corrects.

“Do you think he’s the product of a failed abortion?”

She nodded her head, “yeah and that by taking the whole uterus, and the strangling, and the stabbing, both mother and baby are for sure dead.”

“Hotch!” Spencer called across the room. “Y/N figured it out.”

They waited for JJ and Prentiss to finish an interview before they all piled into an office to discuss Y/N’s idea.

“Is there even any way to know if someone is the product of a failed abortion?” Prentiss asked after Spencer and Y/N took turns explaining how they came to their conclusion.

“Probably the best way would be to search for babies born with the common disabilities that occur in babies of failed abortions, but make sure they were born in November,” Y/N explained.

“Why November?” Penelope asked over the phone.

Y/N took a whiteout marker and started writing on the whiteboard.

“The 5 victims that died from loss of blood were all exactly the same, they were murdered in June, February, June. November and November.” She explained.

Writing “J F M A M J J A S O N D” on the whiteboard. Circling February, June and November.

“February, conception. 10 months later, or 40 weeks, is November. June is 4 months along meaning that would be when the mother either had the abortion, be it medical or homemade,” Y/N explained.

“Last year alone 146 of the 164,045 abortions resulted as a failure. When this happens most women choose to have the second procedure, or a D and C. Or they can carry the baby the rest of the way to term,” Spencer explained. “Children brought to term from a first-trimester medical abortion failure often have limb or digit abnormalities while infants born from non-medical approved abortions are more likely to have congenital problems.”

“However someone without a limb would not be able to do what our unsub is capable of. Digging graves, abducting, dragging dead bodies, it’s a lot of effort,” JJ added.

“Exactly, which is why I think our unsub probably has a mental disability.”

“Non-medical abortions, most often referred to as the poor person’s method, is taking a non-FDA approved ulcer treatment drug called Misoprostol, which is causing an epidemic of birth defects all along South America and parts of Asia,” Spencer added. “It induces contractions, causing women to deliver babies far too early to survive outside of the womb. If taken after the first trimester, and unsuccessful it can cut off oxygen to the brain long enough to permanently damage development in the frontal lobe.”

“Did the families mention anything about the park?” Y/N asked Prentiss and JJ.

“So far 4 of the victim's husbands say their wives announced they were pregnant on park benches, near the children swinging. They said it was the typical, ‘that could be us one day, that day came sooner than you thought’ moments from movies.” JJ confirmed.

“Let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced, following them all into the precinct.

—

They spent the next few hours looking for anyone with birth defects or mental disabilities that could be a potential suspect. Asking the other officers as well as anyone around the park about the type of man they were looking for.

Morgan and JJ patrolled the park while Rossi and Prentiss asked around on the street.

“Lynette Hayward,” Y/N whispered to herself, standing up and rushing through all the papers on the table in front of her.

“She was the only one who wasn’t pregnant, she was the only one who wasn’t reported missing, she was the oldest and in her youth, she had brown hair and green eyes. What if she’s his mother?” Y/N expressed to Spencer and Hotch who were watching her scramble around.

She pulled her phone out and called Garcia, “what’s cooking good lookin’?” Penelope answered.

“Can you help unscramble my egg brain?” She joked right back.

“Sure thing, whatcha got?”

“Lynette Hayward, does she have children, was she ever pregnant, or put someone up for adoption?”

“Let me check into it and I will call you right back!” Garcia said, hanging up and going right to work.

“Is there anyone here who knew Lynette Hayward about 30 years ago? She would have been 26 to 29, my height, brown hair, and green eyes?” Y/N announced to the whole Police Department.

“I did,” an officer said, standing up from the desk on the other side of the room.

She waved him over, pulling out a chair and asking him to sit.

“Was Lynette ever pregnant?” Y/N asked.

He thought for a moment, licking his lips and harkening all the way back to his 20’s. “There was a summer that no one saw her."

"When was this?" Spencer asked.

"From June to November, not a single person saw her. We thought maybe she was doing summer classes somewhere,” he explained.

“Were there any children dropped off at a fire hall or a hospital that November?” Spencer asked.

“There was a baby left in the park, poor little guy had been left out there in the cold,” he said.

Hotch, Spencer and Y/N all took a deep breath and looked at each other. “That’s him.”

Garcia called back then, “I found 1 baby left abandoned in the park in November of 1979, he was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate, seizures, and later on he was diagnosed with diabetes, Crohn’s disease and Asperger's syndrome.”

“Name and address?” Spencer asked.

“That's the difficult part, he was born, operated on and handed over to the state and cared for by a foster family that named him Jake Alexander Ingrid. At the age of 6, he was adopted by them fully. When he was 12 he dropped out of the public school system due to bullying that left him in the hospital with a broken arm. After that, his trail goes cold.”

“How cold?” Y/N asked.

“If I didn't know better I'd say he was the one missing not Lynette,” Garcia confirmed.

“Does anyone live in Lynette’s house?” Hotch asked.

The sound of Garcia’s typing was all they heard over the phone, “her bills are being paid on time, someone is in her trailer. I’ve sent the address to your phones.”

“Let’s go.”

Hotch kicked the trailer door in, “FBI!”

He was asleep, startled awake in the bed that used to belong to his birth mother. He cried, overwhelmed with the 3 guns pointed in his face. Hotch sighed, cuffing him and reading him his rights.

“Why are the worst ones always the sadist?” Y/N asked Spencer as they watched forensics tore apart the trailer.

“Sad in what context?”

“His whole life was so fucked up, it sucks. All those women crossed paths with him and he took his fucked up life and ended theirs, as well as their babies,” Y/N couldn’t stop shaking her head as she spoke, disgusted with the whole situation.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, “if we spend all our time wondering why the world is like this we won't have enough time to bring justice to the victims.”

“which is the best outcome we can ask for,” Y/N agreed.

“Dr, Reid, agent Y/L/N?” An officer interrupted their hug and watched them awkwardly pull away from each other quickly.

“Yes?” Spencer answered.

“We found the wombs.”

The worst fucking sentence she had ever heard. “I can’t look at that.” She said, walking away to join JJ and Prentiss standing by the SUV.

“Good job kid,” Morgan said, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re almost as smart as boy wonder over there.”

“Just call me Mrs, boy wonder then,” she joked.

“Don’t tempt him!” Prentiss joked.

Y/N turned back to see Spencer walking out of the trailer, a shade of green spreading across his skin. “Excuse me,” she said walking towards the ambulance that was on standby.

“Dr. Reid looks like he might be sick,” she said, taking an EMT with her towards him.

Sure enough, Spencer leaned over the bushes and hurled before passing out into the EMT’s arms. Morgan and Hotch came running over to him, helping get him into an ambulance.

“What happened?” Morgan asked.

“He took a look at the recovered womb’s the forensic team found,” Y/N explained.

“That would do it,” Hotch agreed.

Y/N rubbed her hand along Spencer’s shoulder, “good catch,” the EMT complimented her as he took Spencer's vitals.

“I know him well.”

“Too well,” Morgan agreed. “You’d think you were cut from the same cloth.”

“No,” she said softly, gripping Spencer’s hand in her own as he started to stir a little. “We’re cosmically connected, made from the same space rock that split during the big bang.”

“I love you,” he whispered, awake the whole time she was speaking.

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased him, “I know, save your strength, you’re still all pasty white.”

“Gross,” Morgan smiled, turning away from the ambulance

chapter 4

Prentiss convinced Y/N and Spencer to take the weekend off in Nevada to go visit their parents. They agreed that it would be nice, seeing as neither of them thought to tell their moms that they met again let alone that they were together.

Y/N walked into the Nursing home first, looking for her mom in her office as Spencer walked in quickly to go find his mother.

“Hey mom,” Y/N smiled as she knocked on her mother's office door.

“Y/N!” She yelled, shocked to see her eldest baby standing in front of her for the first time since last Christmas. “What are you doing here?”

“Remember how I moved?” She started there.

“Yes?”

“Well, my new neighbour ended up being Spencer Reid, and he introduced me to the BAU and I helped them with a case, so they hired me, and now I work for them and we just finished a case in Winnemucca and me and Spencer are dating. He’s here too and we’re taking the weekend off to tell you and Diana,” she had never rambled so fast to her mother before in her life.

“Holy shit?” Her mother was shocked, “this all happened in the last 3 weeks? Is that why you’ve been too busy to text me?”

“I’ve been on 5 cases in the last 3 weeks, I was swamped,” she smiled, her eyes welling with tears.

Her mom walked over to her and wrapped her up in her arms, holding her close. “My baby, this is everything you wanted why are you crying?”

“I haven’t taken a moment to actually understand that this is all real,” she whispered.

Her mother pulled back, looking in her eyes with a stern look. “Is he good to you?”

She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He’s wonderful.”

“Diana is in the game room, let’s go see them,” she tucked her arm under Y/N’s and the two of them walked arm in arm towards the game room.

Diana stood up as she saw them walk in, “Debbie’s daughter?” She asked.

Spencer nodded with a large smile on his face. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, my partner.”

“I know you,” Diana said softly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. “You would read to me on Thursdays after Spencer left for CalTech.”

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“I knew you were here as often as you could be, and I felt bad she didn’t have any other children to come see her,” Y/N explained. “I know if my mom was here and my brother couldn’t visit I’d fill in.”

“It was lovely, I still have the book you gave me before you left for the academy,” Diana’s smile was as big and bright as Spencer’s.

They all sat together, sharing stories with each other. It seemed like their mothers enjoyed sharing embarrassing kid stories to make Spencer and Y/N blush back and forth.

Before they knew it, it was 3 pm and visiting hours were coming to an end and Debbie’s shift was about to end as well. “Where are you both staying?” She asked.

“At a hotel downtown,” Y/N explained.

“Nonsense, stay with me and your father!” Debbie insisted.

Y/N shook her head, “we can come to visit for dinner tomorrow, but we need some space.”

“You know how it feels to be in love especially this young Deb, I’m sure you understand,” Diana patted her on the shoulder.

“Go on, have fun. But tomorrow dinner starts at 6:15, Levi and Lizzie also home this weekend,” Debbie smiled, hugging both Spencer and Y/N before Diana.

“Would Diana be able to come to dinner at our place?” Y/N asked.

“I think I can pull some strings,” Debbie agreed, “have a good night tonight guys.”

“We will,” Spencer smiled, taking Y/N’s hand and walking with her to the parking lot.

They both sighed as they sat in their rental car. “That went well,” Y/N said softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you visited my mom?” Spencer asked, holding her hand again.

“I was going to, there’s so much I want to tell you but we haven’t had enough personal time to get through it all, every time we talk lately it’s about murder,” she replied.

“Let's go get a table at a nice restaurant and tell each other everything.”

“I have something to do first, can I drop you off at the hotel and meet you there?” She asked.

“absolutely.”

-—

She drove to her parent's place as fast as she could, they were all just sitting down in the living room when she walked in the door. “Hi sorry I can’t stay I just want to grab a dress from my closet.”

She kicked her shoes off and ran up the stairs to her bedroom just like she would have after school. Her room hadn’t changed much. Her desk was still in the corner, her bed was made, and her mom now used it for storage. There were boxes, lamps, pillows and a million folded blankets all resting on her bed and scattered along the floor.

She shuffled some things out of the way of her closet door and quickly looked through all the bagged dresses she had left here. Minoring in political science and volunteering with government organizations in college meant she had a dress for every occasion, times the 4 years she was there.

“Cocktail, dinner, black tie, prom, homecoming,” she flicked through them all, “funeral,” she said as she stopped. “Why is this here?”

She pulled out a black dress she wore to a democratic representatives fundraiser, it was an off-the-shoulder, 3/4 length sleeve, plunging neckline, skin-tight dress with a slit to show some leg. It was perfect.

She placed it on the edge of her bed and dug out the black heels that she originally bought to go with the dress. She found a strapless bra in her dresser, and a cute pair of underwear buried at the back of her drawer.

She closed her door and quickly changed, walking across the hall in her heels to fluff her hair in the mirror and figure out how the fuck she was going to do her makeup here.

Just then her brother's wife came walking up the stairs, “Y/N?” She knocked on the bathroom door before coming in.

“Hey Lizzie,” she smiled. “Do I look okay?” She asked.

Lizzie looked her up and down with a shocked look on her face, “yeah what’s the occasion? I didn’t even know you were home?”

“It’s a long story, my boyfriend and I were here on a case and we’re staying for the weekend, you get to meet him tomorrow!” She filled her in as she searched the bathroom drawers for makeup.

“What do you need?” She asked.

“Do you have your makeup kit here? We’re like the same shade right?”

Before she knew it, Lizzie was making her sit on the edge of the tub while she did Y/N’s makeup for her. “Remember when you did my prom makeup?” Lizzie asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You and Levi looked so good together that night.”

“Not as good as you look right now, he’s going to eat you alive,” she hyped Y/N up.

“You think so?” Y/N asked, standing up to take a look in the mirror.

“Absolutely!!!”

She took a deep breath and shook the nerves out, “okay I have to go,” she said running back to her room for her phones, wallet and badge.

“Go get him, SSA Y/L/N,” Lizzie smiled as she watched y/n steadily run down the stairs in heels, clicking on the hardwood as she ran.

“Wait!” Her dad yelled from the table, “don’t I get to see you before you leave?”

She ran into the table room, quickly hugging her father at the head of the table and kissing him on his bald head. “I’m late for my date, I love you, I’ll be home tomorrow,” she said running back towards the front door and to her car.

She was like a mad chicken running around with her head cut off. She took a breather in the car before starting the engine and making her way back downtown.

She left her car out front with the valet, saying she would be back in a minute. She dug her phone out of her wallet and called Spencer. “I’m in the lobby.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She waited by the elevator, she pulled her boobs up into her bra and wiggled the wire till they looked okay, then she straightened her dress out. She never felt this nervous when she wore this dress the last time, she’s never felt this nervous period, actually.

Spencer Reid did something to her that she couldn’t quite describe. But if she had to, she’d say he makes her feel alive.

The elevator dinged and Spencer walked out in one of his best suits. He was looking down at his button as he stepped out not seeing her at first.

She smiled at him, waiting for him to look up. When he did his eyes grew three times their normal size and his mouth dropped. He stopped right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lightly running his hands down her arms. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Could say the same thing about you Dr. Reid,” Y/N teased as she pulled on his tie.

She pulled him down by his tie and pressed her lips against his. Never before had either of them been a big fan of PDA, but this was an exception.

She pulled back from him and tucked his tie back into his jacket. Smoothing out his sleeves before taking a step back and handing him the keys. “Lead the way doctor.”

He extended his arm to which she wrapped her arm around. He walked her to the front of the lobby, watching as the bellhop held the door for them.

Their car was still there, waiting with the valet who opened the door when he saw her return. She sat on the passenger side, fixing the slit of her dress to not show too much just yet.

Spencer joined her, sitting in the driver's seat he started the car and drove off.

He reached his hand over to place it on her thigh, where it belonged. He gripped her leg and felt down to where her holster was. She saw his eyebrow raise as he looked down, moving the side of her dress to see her gun strapped to her leg.

“Gonna shoot me if I’m not on my best behaviour tonight, agent?” He laughed.

“Nevada is a concealed carry state, and I don’t trust anyone,” she said. “Plus I look like this tonight, do you know what the crime rate is in Los Vegas-? Don’t answer that, of course, you do,” she teased him.

“It’s pretty hot,” he complimented her.

“What? The gun or my attitude?”

“The fact that you don’t take shit from anyone, you’re a badass and I never have to worry about you.”

“What if I want you to worry?”

“I’m always going to worry, I just mean you’re not a damsel in distress. I can go into every situation knowing you’re smarter on your feet than anyone on the team, and as long as you’re there we’re coming out alive,” he explained better.

“That’s the best compliment,” she felt bashful all of a sudden. She put her hand on his and squeezed it. “I love you, Spencer,” she finally told him.

“I love you too,” he smiled.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t said it back yet.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant they were going to, returning his focus fully to driving. He pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park.

“I knew you’d say it when you were ready, I’m in no rush to hear it,” he leaned over the centre console and kissed her on the lips.

He got out of the car and walked around to open her door, helping her out before extending an arm out for her once more.

He made a reservation while he was alone at the hotel, getting a table in the back away from everyone else. It was a round table with a booth stretching all the way around the table. The back of the chair tall enough to enclose them in their own little world for the time being.

They were at a cute little stake house, one where you got to pick the exact piece of meat you wanted and they did it however you asked. They ordered drinks and enough bread to make the waiter look at them differently.

“Tell me the most random fact about you,” Y/N asked as soon as the waiter left to tell the kitchen their order.

“When my mom’s schizophrenia started getting bad, she thought that the government used dryers to take our socks for DNA and clone us, so whenever one of my socks went missing she freaked out. After that, I started wearing mismatched socks all the time so that that way she would never notice which of the pairs were missing since I never wore them that way anyway.”

She smiled the whole time he talked, absolutely in love with him. He was her everything. “So that’s why I’ve got so many random socks around my house.”

“It’s worse at my apartment,” he smiled again. “Your turn.”

“The first time I ever rode a bike without training wheels was because I stole my neighbour's bike and took off with it down the road,” she laughed.

“Why?”

“I think my mom said I couldn’t take my own training wheels off yet, so I took matters into my own hands.”

“See?” He shook his head lightly. “Badass.”

“When was the last time you were in Vegas?” She asked.

“Earlier this year when we reopened the Riley Jenkins case,” he said softly.

“oh, my mom was telling me about that one! Your mom went off her meds to help remember if your dad was involved right?” Y/N recalled.

He nodded, “do you know what really happened?”

“I have the gist, Lou killed Gary in revenge for Riley.”

“That's not all of it,” he said lightly. “Gary was watching me, and my mom told Lou that the way he looked at me, he might have been the one who hurt Riley. And then she witnessed Lou kill Gary.”

“Holy shit Spence, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Did you know Gary was my neighbour?” ,

“No?”

“Yeah we were 4, my brother was 2 and my mom was pregnant again, and Gary kept taking photos of my brother through the fence. My dad threatened to kill him a few times and then we finally moved across town,” she explained.

“How is it that our lives were so intertwined, and yet it took 20 years for us to actually connect again?” He asked.

“The same thing happened to my parents.”

“What’s their story?” He asked.

She moved around the table to sit closer to him, taking his hand in hers. “My dad is 8 years older than my mom, they met when she was 17 and he was 26 and they became good friends like he was her older brother. They realized years later that my dad delivered newspapers to the town my mom lived in, and he saw her basically grow up playing in the yard. Then his best friend always invited him to his cabin and when he finally went, the lot across from them was my mom's family cabin. They were always so close but never knew each other till they were meant to. And now they’ve been happily married for 30 years.”

“There's an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer explained.

“It took 500 years of coincidences to bring us together,” she said softly. “Which kinda makes the 20 years of admiring you from afar not seem so long.”

“From here on out let’s make every moment count then,” Spencer suggested, “we’ve been barely dating for 3 weeks I’m not going to ask you to marry me right this instant, but I do intend to spend the rest of my life with you in whatever capacity I can. Because I think you’re it for me.”

She could bask in the feeling of her heart fluttering like this for the rest of her life, it was like butterflies but completely calm. True happiness at its finest.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said softly, “in 1 year we come back here, and if we feel the exact same way as we do right now, you can propose to me.”

He put his pinky out for her, she wrapped hers around his, before kissing each other's knuckles. “Promise.” Spencer and Y/N said at the same time.

—

Back in the hotel room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash before slamming Spencer against the door. She slid her thigh between both his legs and boxed him in.

She undid the single button of his suit jacket, shushing Spencer. She pushed it off his arms, knocking it to the floor. She loosened his tie, tossing it to the side, still around his neck, while she unbuttoned his shirt.

He was completely silent and still. She was in control.

She tossed his shirt to the ground next. Holding onto his tie as she pulled him down into a heated kiss.

“Take my dress off,” she breathed into his mouth, feeling his hands reach around her back for the zipper.

He pushed the sleeves down her arms, watching the dress gather at her ankles before she stepped out and kicked the fabric out of the way. She tugged him by his tie towards the bed.

“Strip,” she instructed him. “Not the tie.”

“Underwear too?” He asked as she dug through his suitcase.

“yes.”

She returned with 2 more ties. Looking at him, butt naked on the bed. She stepped out of her underwear and the uncomfortable strapless bra. She set her gun in the hotel safe with her badge and returned to the bed.

“Would you be willing to try something?” She asked.

“anything,” he said, overly eager.

“Would you tie my hands to the bedpost and blindfold me and just do whatever you want?”

“Hold on,” he got off the bed and opened his go-bag side pocket. “I have a blindfold for the plane.”

“So you want to?”

Actions speak louder than words, he would always say.

He dimmed the lights down, got on the bed and roughly picked her up laying her back against the pillows. He tied her left hand first, and then her right hand. He took a hair elastic off the bedside table and put her hair back as best he could before he rested the blindfold against her forehead.

He hovered over her. “Anything I want?” Spencer confirmed.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Ground rules?”

“Yellow for slow down, red for stop?” She shrugged.

“You really mean anything?”

“I trust you, Spencer Reid, make me feel good,” she smiled.

He kissed her on the nose before coving her eyes with the blindfold.

She had always wanted to try this, it was a kink she had always been determined to try. She took a deep breath and tried her best to listen to him as he moved to sit between her spread legs.

He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips before following the curve to her waist. He gripped her waist tightly and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, breathing her in as he kissed.

She wasn’t embarrassed about her tummy, for the first time in her life she loved her body. She felt him kiss all over her chest, dragging his bottom lip along her skin. He licked a stripe between her breasts, dropping his chin to her chest then to blow lightly over the wet trail.

She felt her nipples harden, she could physically hear the smirk that spread across his face.

He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands as he groped her lightly. She squirmed, trying her best to grind her hips against his.

He pushed her hips against the bed, “be patient.”

He disappeared then. She felt his weight shift and get off the bed. She let out a deep breath, knowing she told him he could do anything and that included punishing her. She literally asked for it.

“I picked something up after you dropped me off,” she heard him say from the other side of the room.

He walked around for a minute, taking something out of a hard plastic container. He struggled with ripping it, she heard papers fall the floor and something hard hit the floor. “Shit.”

She heard him walk towards the bathroom, she crossed her ankles and just waited.

He came back to the bed, moving her legs apart like they were when he left. “stay.”

He crawled between her legs once more, his hand brushed her thigh and it was cold and wet like he washed his hands.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head feverishly.

She heard a small buzzing, an all too failure sound. The first place she feels the vibration is in her belly button. Causing her to let out a shocked little giggle.

“Shhh,” he smiled.

He dragged the little bullet vibrator down her stomach, over her pelvis and finally, finally, against her clit. She let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh of relief.

All she wanted was for someone else to control her pleasure, surprise her, set the rhythm, the speed, everything. She spent so long pleasuring herself, she was so ready to sit back and just take it.

Spencer felt the same. He took his time, feeling every inch of her skin, kissing every single place he wanted to. He spent so much time just looking. Finding freckles and scars and kissing them. He was mesmerized by the fact she was real, that a beautiful woman would lay down in front of him, spread open like this and just let him explore. It felt like the best wet dream his brain could ever conjure.

She could feel him getting closer to her. His weight shifted and she felt his breath on her leg. She took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach in the anticipation of feeling a tongue on her for the first time ever.

He turned off the vibrator. Setting it to the side as he looped his arms around her thighs. Just admiring the view. Just then her whole body shivered as she anticipated the heat of his tongue.

He pressed a kiss to her clit first before flattening his tongue against her. “Sweet fucking Jesus Christ,” she gasped.

“I’ve never done this before,” he breathed against her.

“Explore away, sir,” she whispered.

He clearly did research, if he didn’t just say this was his first time eating someone out, she would think he was an expert. She regretted having her hands tied up at that moment. She squirmed, he held her hips down. She gripped the ties around her wrists wishing it was Spencer's hair.

She was never big into overstimulation or denial, never having the willpower to keep going after making herself cum once. Spencer, however, had the ability to bring her to the edge again and again without ever letting her spillover.

She didn’t beg, she didn’t complain, she sat there in the blissful feeling and waited. It was heavenly.

“Spence,” her breathing was heavy.

He hummed, letting her know he was listening. His tongue still wiggling back and forth on her clit.

“Can you please just fuck me now?”

He kissed his way back to her mouth. All up her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and jaw. She could taste herself on his lips, “untie me?” She asked softly.

He let one hand free, which she immediately used to grip his hair. The second hand was freed and she pushed the blindfold up and worked her way into a sitting position while he kneeled in front of her.

“Anything else you want to try?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes once again. She pushed his hair out of his face and just looked at him.

“Lie back and roll over,” he instructed.

He pulled her into a face-down, ass-up position and aligned himself with her. Pushing in little by little till he bottomed out. He reached around the bed for the vibrator and placed it in her one hand.

“You decide when you cum,” was all he said before he started fucking her.

She white-knuckled the pillow as he rammed into her, she was arched in the most perfect way for him to hit her g spot every time he rammed into her.

“My hair,” she gasped, wanting him to grab her by her ponytail as he fucked her.

With one hand on her hip to steady her and the other in her hair, he fucked into her like his life depended on it. Her legs were quaking, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t cum soon.

She flicked on the vibrator and pressed it against her own clit, feeling the familiar heat bubble in her stomach. “Fuck me, oh god,” she chanted.

Cuming with a shout, she dug her face into the pillow and all but screamed. Pushing back against Spencer as he bucked into her one last time and erupted inside of her.

His hips shook as he emptied his load before slowly pulling out and dropping down beside her.

She turned her head to look at him, eyeliner and mascara all smudged around her eyes, makeup all over the pillow. She was trying her hardest to catch her breath, staring at him with a smile on her face.

“If sex was an Olympic sport, I think we’d win,” she complimented him.

“you think?” He asked, his breath just as shaky as hers.

She rolled onto her back, letting him cuddle into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. “Everyone told me that the first time I have sex it’ll be underwhelming and uneventful, and yet every time we fuck I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I should invest in a wheelchair.”

He laughed, “would you put that in writing and send it to everyone from our high school?”

She smacked his arm. “and then I’d have to swat women off you with a bat if I wanted any alone time, you’re mine now.” She wrapped her whole body around him and held him there.

“I love you,” Spencer smiled.

“I love you, more.”

chapter 5

They packed everything into their car just to go to her parents house. There was something in Y/N’s gut that told her there was a case coming.

Her parents lived 30 minutes out of the city, on the edge of a cul-de-sac that faced a park. They had lived there since she was 5, it was her mom’s dream home. It was the only place in the town she had good memories in.

Y/N’s mother brought Diana home with her after work. They were waiting in the kitchen for Spencer and Y/N when they arrived. Tonights guests included not just them but Y/N’s youngest brother Levi, his wife Lizzie and their 2 year-old Chloe.

“There’s my girl!” Her dad cheered, standing up and rushing to give her a real hug. “Did you get taller?”

“it’s the boots,” she laughed, holding onto him tightly.

“You look great! The FBI is treating you well,” her dad was always one to compliment her. He pulled back and looked at Spencer. More like glared at him.

“Nice to meet you Sir, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid,” he said, shockingly extending his hand to shake her father's.

The profiler in her knew he was breaking his comfort zone to appease her baby boomer, ex-cop, father.

Her dad always did this thing when he met new men where he squeezed their hands to see how much they could take. “Harrison Y/L/N Sr.” She watched Spencers hand shake as he squeezed right back.

“Strong shake.” Her father complimented him. “She must have warned you.”

“No, he just knows how to read people,” Y/N laughed.

“Well come sit down Doctor Spencer Reid,” he teased him. “Let me interrogate the profiler.”

“Here we go,” Y/N laughed, placing a hand on Spencer's back as she led him into the kitchen.

They sat down together, Spencers mom, Diana, just across from him at the table. They smiled and nodded at each other in a quiet little hello.

“I would ask you to tell me a bit about yourself, but Y/N has kept me all caught up with you over the years,” her dad said. “You went to CalTech at 13, somewhere in there you got a degree from MIT, she idolized you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she blushed.

“It’s very flattering, but if anything I’m now huge fan of her’s. In the last 3 weeks she has been the one to find the major break in 3 of our cases. She is amazing at what she does, you raised an incredible woman,” Spencer replied, praising her in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Go on then, tell us about these cases then,” her dad asked.

And with that they got lost in all things horrific. Spencer explained, verbatim, how each case went down and exactly what Y/N came up with to solve them. She answered little questions here and there but mostly it was Spencer showing off how much he loved his girlfriend.

Her mom passed out dinner plates in the middle of the talk, some how all of them were able to discuss cases and eat at the same time. Her mom made burgers and potato salad for dinner, just something simple for them all.

“Did you really offer to fuck a serial killer?” Her brother asked, disgusted.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I knew in his sick twisted mind he wouldn’t be able to refuse a woman willing to let him do what he wanted and as soon as the weapon was down, so was he.”

“I always told you she’d be able to kick your ass, Levi,” her dad said. “Ever since she was a kid I knew she had it in her to wrestle someone to the ground.”

“Yeah, Spence didn’t believe me that I’m combat trained.”

“No,” Spencer interjected, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t ever think you’d be able to take me down.”

“And did you?” Her mom asked.

Her face turned bright red. “Yeah, I showed one of my combat maneuvers on him, we were all horsing around and I showed them how to go from being pinned to the ground to being the one on top.”

“How?” Her brother’s wife asked.

“Yeah demonstrate!” Her mom innocently cheered them on not knowing she was mid sex with him when she showed him how to do it.

“Um okay, Lizzie come with me,” she said, saving Spencer the awkwardness of having to straddle her in the middle of her family home.

She laid down on the floor, “you basically have to just pin me down how ever you see fit.”

Lizzie, sat on her, holding her shoulders down with one forearm. Y/N, quickly flipped her onto her back, making sure to catch her head as she did so. Not wanting her to smack it off the hardwood floor.

“Like that,” Y/N stood up and helped Lizzie to her feet. “Made sure all the girls knew how to do that.” She lied.

“As you should!” Her dad cheered, “nice to know your team all has each others backs.”

“How do they all feel about you two?” Diana asked. She had been mostly quiet all night, just enjoying time outside of where she was used to.

“They love it, they’ve been placing bets about us,” Y/N laughed.

“Like what?” Her dad asked.

“If he would kiss me first, if we’d tell the team ever, they even had one about who is most likely to say I love you first, they’re insufferable,” Y/N ranted.

“So what team one?” Her brother teased, just trying the embarrass her.

“He kissed me first, he told the team that we were together after like 10 hours and he was the first to say I love you,” Y/N blushed.

“Does she still have the I love you problem?” Her mom asked innocently but received a death glare from Y/N.

“Uh no, she says it to me too.” Spencer noticed the awkwardness.

“Any plans for baby number two?” Y/N asked Levi, changing the subject faster than ever.

She’d be lying if she said she was listening to the answer, her ears were ringing and all she cold focus on was Spencer’s hand on her back. Her mom was about to pass out cake when she excused herself to the bathroom, and ended up in her old bedroom.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing the words her mother said over and over in her mind. “Does she still have the I love you problem?”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes and just breathed. She didn’t want him to know about that yet.

Spencer knocked on her door, opening it softly and peaking his head in. “Do you want company?”

She nodded.

He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, running his hands along her thighs. “Are you okay?”

“I told you about Christopher?” She said softly.

“yes.”

“In order to get me to do what he did, he would always say I had to because he loved me,” she explained. A tear dripped down her cheek and landed on his hand. “And so for 7 years after I never told anyone I knew that I loved them.”

“That’s okay, you went through trauma. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he soothed her.

“I want to though because, before you, I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand love, I thought it was weird and forceful and something dependent on coercion,” her voice was so tiny, she didn’t want anyone else hearing her. “Loving you is light and fluffy and special and safe, I didn’t want you to think just now that I said it this weekend to get it over with or something because I truly do love you.

He pulled her into a kiss, “I love you, more.”

She laughed, “we’ll see about that.”

—

Y/N and Diana were doing the dishes as her mom packed the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Debbie was just about to ask who wanted coffee when Y/N’s phone started to ring.

She sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel before answering the phone. “SSA Y/N Y/L/N.”

“There’s been an explosion at a mall in Los Angeles and reports of 4 more planned, how fast can you and Reid get to LA?” Hotch asked.

“Um, we’re about 45 minutes from the airport.”

“We’re 4 hours out, we want you and Reid there ASAP. Is there any way we could send a helicopter to get you?”

“Yes, there’s a soccer field across the street from my parent's house, Garcia knows the address she can direct them where to go, we’ll be ready.”

“Debrief has already been sent to your phones, I need you and Reid to go to the LA field office and start communication with Garcia on victimology.”

“Got it.” She said as she hung up. “Spence we have to go!”

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“We have an emergency in LA, they need us there immediately. There’s a helicopter coming to get us,” Y/N explained as she walked around the room towards her go-bag.

She unzipped it, unfolding her bullet-proof vest and putting it on. She adjusted her gun and made sure she had everything she needed. Spencer did the same at the table beside her.

“You are a badass,” her dad complimented her, filming her getting her gear on. “This is my daughter! FBI superhero! Kickass tonight kid!” He had an affinity for embarrassing her, but an even bigger obsession with showing her off.

He was like that with all of his children, first with her brother Harrison in the army, then with her other brother Levi and his swat training. Now his daughter was catching serial killers like it was nothing.

“Okay, we gotta go, the helicopter will be landing in that field in 3 minutes. Dad are you okay to take the car back to the dealership if this takes a while? We will be back for our suitcases after the case, I love you guys.” She said. handing her father the car keys and moving to put her shoes on.

“Got everything?” Spencer asked.

“Yep,” she smiled.

They walked out the door and across the street. Most of the neighbourhood watched a helicopter land in the soccer field as the sun was setting. They ducked as they ran getting in the chopper and strapping in.

“Agent Valdez, Nevada PD!” the officer in the pilot seat introduced herself. “We have just over an hour till we land, use the headsets to communicate with me if you need to!”

And they were off. She looked down to see her family waving up at them from their houses as the neighbours she grew up around took photos and videos of them leaving.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.

Y/N took out her phone and read over the debrief, “tonight at The Grove in Los Angeles, a small bomb went off killing 6 people and injuring 31.”

“Where did it go off?” Reid asked.

“Inside a small dress store that has been renting the space for the last 7 years,” Y/N confirmed. “I’m sure Garcia is looking into everyone who was injured or killed as well as the current and former employees.”

“It says here that the person who called 911 before the bomb went off warned of 3 bombs to come. Saying; ‘4 bombs in total the first in clear, the next is where her checks would clear.’” Reid read from the phone.

“So we need to find a connection between the dress store and a bank in the area,” Y/N said. “We need to go over that call more, have Garcia look into every aspect of the sound.”

“Where did Hotch say he wants us?” Reid asked.

“At the LA field office, he wants us working behind the scenes in correspondence with Garcia.”

Spencer sighed, “well, our weekend was fun while it lasted.

9:42pm PST

By the time the rest of the team landed and Hotch and JJ arrived at the field office, another 2 bombs had gone off at a Liberty Bank downtown LA.

“Garcia, do we have any connection from the dress shop to the bank yet?” Hotch asked.

“Nothing Sir, I have dug and dug and there isn’t a single person with a connection to both the bank and the dress shop within the last few months, I'm widening back 2-5 years but still nothing,” Garcia panicked over the phone.

“Is there any possibility our unsub is female? This to me feels like a scorned lover, maybe her husband is paying someone under the table who is cashing checks at that exact ATM that exploded and then went and bought a dress,” Y/N suggests.

“Garcia run with that as far as you can and call us back,” Hotch ordered.

“On it!” She cheered before hanging up.

Spencer looked around at all the info he and Y/N brainstormed while waiting for the team. “a female unsub would make the most sense.”

“Did we get any more clues for where the next bomb will be?” JJ asked.

Agent Cunningham from the LA field office shook his head, “nothing at the scene or over 911, we’re on the lookout for any suspicious calls and tips currently.”

“If you were cheating on your wife, after going to the bank and the dress shop where does she go with you next?” Y/N asked Hotch.

“Uh,” he shook his head, clearly faithful to his wife. “Dinner and a hotel?”

“So those are possibly the next two targets,” Y/N said, “but finding out what restaurant and hotel in the entirety of LA is like finding a needle in a needle stack.”

“I hate to say it,” JJ sighed, “but we might need one more explosion before we get a breakthrough.”

“All we can do is hope for minimal damage,” Y/N shot a soft smile over to her, “till then, what kind of woman in the area could make the type of bombs that are being used?”

“Almost anyone,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “I was just looking at the debris and shrapnel, it’s a fairly simple bomb that anyone with basic knowledge or internet access could make.”

Hotch called Garcia once more. “Can you start a search for women 35-55 who are married, ask the NSA if we can search through any women in the LA area googling how to make bombs in the last month.”

“Of course, I’ve also been looking at the past transactions of the specific ATMs that were targeted, 13 of the people depositing cash and cheques there, recently bought dresses from the store at The Grove.”

“Any of them look like they are partaking in an affair?” Y/N asked.

“2 of them are lesbian women, 3 are drag queens and the other 8 are girls in high school depositing birthday money,” Garcia explained.

“Well thanks for looking, hopefully, the NSA has some hits for us,” Hotch said as he hung up. “I guess we wait.”

11:56pm

“We’ve got reports of an explosion in an all-female dorm at UCLA,” one of the LA agents said as he burst through the door.

“Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi,” Hotch said, “go to the scene and find out everything.”

Y/N called Garcia, “as soon as we know what room the explosion was in I need you to go back 10 years of women who lived in that dorm room and their connections to older men. Sugar daddies, teachers, anyone.”

“The 911 call shortly after the bomb say it was heard on the first floor, possibly room 119 as that's where the blast was heard. Luckily the girl who was supposed to be in that room was with her friend down the hall so we currently have no casualties here,” Garcia explained.

“Thank god,” JJ exclaimed, placing her hand over her eyes.

“In the last 10 years, 6 different women have all had that room,” Garcia said as she narrowed down her search. “Okay, here we go this is the juicy stuff!”

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“From 2000 to 2002 Maggie Burton was working on a science degree at UCLA. She was working part-time, both years, as the main Chemistry professor's teaching assistant, she was depositing money from him bi-weekly to Liberty Bank.”

“Okay, who was the professor?” Spencer asked.

“Michael Thompson, 56, but that would be too simple now wouldn’t it?” Penelope teased. “Thompson is gay and has been in a domestic partnership since 1998, his Partner Adam Pearson, however, is bisexual according to the sugar daddy website he’s on,” she explained further. “Whether Maggie knows it or not, she had been getting paid to be Thompson's TA, as well as his boyfriend sugar baby.”

“So our unsub is Michael Thompson?” Hotch confirmed.

“By the looks of it, yes. Maggie stopped being a TA when she graduated and now she works with a cosmetics developer downtown. Every week she deposits 500 cash to the ATM, which is the exact amount of cash Adam has been withdrawing for the last 7 years,” she kept explaining, they could hear her keyboard clicking as she kept digging. “Look’s like Adam is filing to remove the domestic partnership and he bought a ring last week.”

“There’s the trigger,” Spencer confirmed. “Do we have a home and work address as well as where the next bomb would be?”

“Adam checked into a Hilton hotel downtown, suite 613 which he has been booking once a month for the last 7 years,” Garcia confirmed. “Sending the locations now.”

“I need a bomb squad sent to the Hilton hotel, evacuations should be done floor by floor saving floor 6 for last, I need agents on floor 6 to evacuate all rooms, except for 613, quietly without making a scene.”

“Sir, suit 612 was booked only for tonight by Michael Thompson, using cash,” Garcia cut him off.

“All rooms but 612 and 613 are to be evacuated, I need a direct line on the scene to room 612 when we arrive,” Hotch ordered as they all hurried towards the elevator.

—

On the scene, Reid, Y/L/N and JJ were sent up with the bomb squad to floor 6. Red lights in the stairwell were flashing to alert that there was an evacuation taking place, but the building was silent.

There were 14 rooms on floor 6, 4 of them being rented that night. Rooms 601 and 608 were the only two they had to focus on to evacuate.

JJ quietly knocked on room 601, “Hi sir,” she whispered. “My name is Jennifer, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your necessities and any other guests in the room, an officer will escort you down the stairs. In the parking lot across the street, there are people issuing refunds and information about relocations for the night.”

The man nodded, he quickly grabbed his things and followed an officer down the hall.

Y/N knocked on 608 next, a young woman answered. “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor-“

“I have 2 kids with me,” she whispered.

“Okay, are they awake?” JJ asked.

“My daughter, she’s 2, she’s out cold. My son is watching TV, oh my god my husband isn’t here,” she quietly panicked.

“Ma’am it’s fine, we have officers here to assist you down the stairs and across the street, there are relocation preparations being made. If you don’t mind, I can help you carry your daughter down the stairs?” Spencer said softly.

“Yes, absolutely.” She said, running into the room to gather all her things.

Spencer lifted the little girl up softly, not waking her at all in the process. He held her against his chest softly while the mother grabbed their necessities and her 6-year-old son before followed Spencer down the stairs.

JJ and Y/N stood in the stairwell, Y/N picked up her radio and called down to Hotch. “All civilians on the 6th floor have been evacuated.”

“Any movement in 612?”

“Yes sir,” one of the bomb squad members said. “With our tech, we can see 2 bodies in 613 and 1 in 612, all alive.”

“Any idea how many bombs were talking about?” Hotch asked.

“Not yet, we need a clear look inside the room. Snipers on the building across the street say the blinds are closed,” he explained.

“Hotch, have you gotten in contact with him at all?” JJ asked.

“No, he won't pick up,” hotch confirmed.

“Would you like one of us to knock?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet, I want you both to come down. If we’re knocking on his door we need to have a full plan in place,” Hotch ordered.

“Over,” Y/N said. Following JJ back down the 6 flights of stairs.

Down at the base of operations, Spencer was still holding onto the 2-year-old as the mother called her husband. He shushed her and held her close with a blanket over her back as she slept.

“Hotch,” JJ got his attention. “I noticed each room has vents on the connected walls, is there any way to get into 611 and snake in a camera to see what we’re dealing with?”

“That was my next suggestion,” a SWAT office said as he shook her hand. “We’re prepping the equipment now.”

“Can we also spray a sleeping agent through the vents? If we knock out the unsub we can just drag him out and see what’s going on?” Y/N suggested.

“Yeah that would work,” the SWAT officer said, “we have a sleeping agent in a compressed gas form that we can spray through the vents.”

“Okay, just in 612,” Hotch confirmed. Y/N I want you and Morgan up there to assist in making sure Maggie and Adam are evacuated safely while the bomb squad looks at what we have going on.”

“On it,” she and Morgan said at the same time.

One of the SWAT officers pulled them aside, handing them protective gear for the gas that will erupt into the hallway. She waved to Spencer in the lot as she headed across the street with the SWAT team. They ran up the stairs, it was exhausting but Y/N pushed through, up the six flights. They quietly unlocked room 611 and filled the room with officers.

First, they snaked a small camera through the vent, the image showing on the screen right away, “you seeing this Hotch?” Morgan asked over the radio.

“Crystal.”

“It’s a wall of C4,” one of the Bomb Squad officers quietly confirmed. “Fairly simple to dismantle, it looks like it’s a manual switch. Wait till he crosses the room, and then spray the gas. We need officers to be in the room as it’s sprayed. He needs to hit the floor nowhere close to the detonator.”

Morgan quietly opened the door and assembled the team in the hall, making movements with his hands as he instructed the men. The door kicker was in place, the officers were ready to file in.

The swat agent deployed the gas, they watched on the monitor as the unsub turned to look at the hissing sound, inspecting it before hitting the ground.

“NOW!” Morgan yelled. The door was knocked in and the unsub was in handcuffs.

Y/N ran to 613, knocking on the door as hard as she could. “FBI OPEN UP!” She yelled.

A half-naked man opened the door, “what?” He yelled.

“We need to evacuate the building right now, cover-up and follow me.” She ordered as the two victims covered themselves and followed her down the stairs.

Halfway down, she got a call over the radio. “Bomb has been defused, all clear on floor 6.”

“Bomb?” The man questioned.

“Yes sir,” Y/N confirmed. “your partner, and your science teacher, Michael Thompson, has been bombing places around the city that you two have been to, and was planning to blow you up tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Maggie asked.

“He’s under arrest, you’ll have your chance to ask him questions in court,” Y/N confirmed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

She held the door for them and watched as they were whisked away by EMTs. She waited for another set for the unsub before turning around and running all the way back up the 6 flights to Morgan.

Morgan was standing over the cuffed, unconscious, unsub in the hallway. “Good job pretty girl!” Morgan high-fived her.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “let's get this bastard down into the ambulance. The elevators should go back up in a minute.”

“What? No more stairs?” Morgan teased.

“I might not be able to feel my legs tomorrow, I’ve been up and down those too many times tonight!” She smacked him.

“Sure that’s why,” he laughed as they waited for the elevator.

—

Spencer and Y/N packed up that night and took a short trip back to Los Vegas. By the time they arrived back on her parent's doorstep it was 5:32 am. 12 hours since they were last there.

She sighed at the front door and called her parent's home phone. “Hello?” Her father's sleep-ridden voice answered.

“Hey dad, it’s Y/N can you come open the front door for me? Please.” She asked nicely.

“Yep.” He hung up.

She watched the hall light come on from the front door. Waiting for him to slowly make his way down the stairs to the front hallway. He unlocked the door and welcomed them in.

“Your mom cleaned off your bed in case this happened,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“5:30, go back up to bed, we’ll lock back up, thank you,” she hugged him and sent him on his way.

She sighed and sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She tugged her boots off and left them in the hallway. Spencer picked them up and moved them to be in order with the rest of the shoes. He locked her parent's front door and turned off the entryway light.

“You need water or anything before bed?” Y/N asked.

“No, come on,” he took her hand and walked with up the stairs to her bedroom.

She closed the door behind him, peeling out of her clothes and climbing into bed first. She got under the covers and moved the pillows around to make sure they were how she liked them.

Spencer crawled in beside her, wearing just his socks and underwear. He laid flat on his back while she cuddled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath as he settled into relaxation finally.

“I love you,” she reminded him.

“I love you, more.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #hypothetically

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bcdrawsandwrites · 3 years

Photo

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: K+

Genre: Gen?? Sickfic?? mild H/C??? you got me, man

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Boyd Cooper, Gloria Von Gouton, Fred Bonaparte, Crispin Whytehead, Sheegor

Warnings: Vomit, blood, depictions of sickness... (SPOILERS: implied torture + amputation)

Description: Loboto is having a very bad night. The inmates are not helping.

Beta Readers: @jaywings and Rocket

Notes: This fic is based on a theory that comes from a few figments in Loboto’s mental world in the demo footage of Psychonauts 2. ...also I wrote this while sick with a fever, edited it while still sick, and illustrated the cover while recovering from said sickness. have fun

—~~~—

He did not remember arriving back at the tower.

Partially because he wasn't even back in the tower, instead standing on the frosty shoreline, the chilly waves lapping at his boot heels.

Loboto stared dumbly out at the cliffside for a long moment before frustration simmered beneath his fogged mind. Yes! Of course, they wouldn't send him back to his lab. No! He could do with a good climb, especially on a frigid night like this! His chest heaved with quiet, dazed laughter before he took a gasp of cold air that grated against his sore throat.

The wind, though not harsh, cut through every part of him that wasn't covered by his shower cap or lab coat like a fine knife, as cold as it was painful. It grazed his shoulder, and his vision went white as his mechanical eyes flashed. But even with the blasted optics glitching, he could still see. His imagination ran wild with absurd visions of ridiculous things that had never happened.

On top of that, the slice of pain brought with it a violent realization that it was not the only pain he was in. The numb shock he’d been in gave way to an agony that tore through him, ripping up and down his side, nearly bringing him to his knees. No, no, no, that pain could not be real, just like the horrific visions of red and yellow that flashed through his mind. It was all a trick—all a stupid trick from his malfunctioning eyes and his brain. Pah!

He found himself clawing at his shower cap, occasionally stopping to smack his mechanical eyes a few times until they flickered back into focus, the desolate beach snapping back into view. "Enough of this!" he growled hoarsely at the sand beneath him. "That little army man will be back any day now, and we can't keep him waiting."

With a grunt, Loboto marched forward and heaved himself up onto the first narrow ledge, already finding his body shuddering with the effort and his mind struggling to push back the imaginary waves of pain. "Ridiculous!" he blurted into the rock he leaned against for balance. "A child can climb a mountain ten times this height!" And it wasn't like he'd never done it, either. Muscle memory helped him get from one step to the other, but keeping his balance was harder than normal, especially as his mind repeatedly dipped back into brain fog.

His eyes flickered in a blink when he found himself on the ladder, his boot slipping on the frosty wood and one hand losing its grip. Realizing he was about to fall, he flung his weight back against the ladder, biting down on the nearest rung to keep himself in place. A frantic giggle worked its way through his clenched teeth—ah, teeth! Useful for so many things! They would never let him down.

If you let us down one more time—

Ripping himself away from the rung and leaving rough teeth-marks behind, he let out a snarl and heaved himself the rest of the way up the ladder and onto the ledge. He sat on his knees for the moment, his mechanical eyes pulling back as he tried to make sense of the gate that seemed to be spinning around him. No, not just the gate—the entire cliffside spun beneath him like some wild carnival ride. He couldn't remember it doing that before, but the absurdity of it made him laugh, the action tearing through his sore throat. Yet he continued to laugh until his stomach lurched and a cascade of vomit silenced him.

He managed to scoot himself away, spitting and coughing as the world slowly came to a halt. At the same time, a figure that had been sleeping against the opposite wall snapped alert with a panicked gasp.

"Ah—ah!" Boyd stammered, scrambling to his feet and whipping his head around until he spotted Loboto on the ground. "Who are you working for?"

"That fool Oleander," Loboto grumbled under his breath, his eyes swiveling to glare at him.

Boyd's eyes blinked separately before recognition dawned upon him. "Y-yes! Of course!" Fumbling with his keys, he got to work unlocking the gate. "It's said he knows the milkman..."

Gritting his teeth, Loboto shakily began to push himself back upright. A large hand suddenly clapped against his shoulder, and he gave a yell as he was heaved to his feet. Without turning to look, he struck at the one who'd grabbed him. "Tricky terrible traitors try to trap—"

"AH—no, I am no traitor, I am the guard!" Boyd cried, stumbling back and holding up his hands as Loboto found his balance.

The two stared at each other for a tense moment, Loboto's eyes glowing harshly as Boyd trembled beneath his gaze. He couldn't help feeling a twinge of satisfaction at seeing his subordinate cower.

"Th... the milk is not ready yet!" Boyd said, wincing away as he eyed the doctor's clenched fist.

Loboto stared.

"I'm lactose intolerant."

Boyd glanced at something on the ground. "I-I noticed."

With a growl, Loboto finally marched past the guard, who frantically closed the gate behind him.

Now that that mess was over, he could finally get back up to his lab and get back to—

He paused.

"SHEEGOR!"

His voice boomed through the empty grounds. It was empty of people, now empty of crows, and empty of elevators.

When his assistant did not spontaneously appear, he clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white beneath his glove. "Yes! Wonderful!" he proclaimed to no one as he stamped toward the withered garden with a harsh laugh. "I can scale this dilapidated tower myself then. Fine night for some exercise!"

He knew his way through his asylum, of course, so it wouldn't be overly difficult, but he would have much preferred the express elevator so he could get back to work immediately. But as it was, he ducked through the entrance to the greenhouse, fighting to keep steady as the action made his head spin, his back ache (no it didn’t, he was fine), and his shower cap to catch against the branches overhead. Turning his optics up, he pressed a hand down into the cap, pulling it away from the plants. He'd hoped to avoid the woman who occupied this corner of the asylum, but as he straightened his back, he bumped into one of the flowerpots, knocking it to the ground with a dull clunk.

"My, you need to buy seats in advance if you want to come to my shows!" Gloria said, turning to him with a patient, hazy smile. "No need to be harassing the paying customers."

"What do they pay you in? Leaves? Seeds?" Loboto asked, the frantic giggle that followed clashing with his strained smile.

Gloria ignored the comment, glancing him over and waving him off. "Please see yourself out. I'm not an usher, but since they seem to be ignoring their duties, I'll have to tell you you cannot bring food or drink into the theater."

Swiveling his optics in an approximation of an eye roll, Loboto turned away to head out the other side of the greenhouse. "I don't have any."

"Not anymore, but anyone can see that wine you've sloshed onto your nice suit."

Loboto froze.

"It's a wonder it didn't get onto the carpet—"

The next thing he knew, he was staring down at an entire line of flower pots that lay in pieces on the floor of the greenhouse.

"Oh!" Gloria cried. "I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure the ushers will attend to this ruffian, and the play can resume..."

He left her to continue rambling to her imaginary audience as he tried to rid the imaginary nonsense (visions, pain, glowing yellow eyes) from his mind. "Fickle fumbling females feeling faint for fading flowers..." he mumbled as he stepped into the lower floor of the asylum. It brought its usual sights and sounds of one of the former orderlies dozing over a makeshift game board (with stolen game pieces, he noted), the artist in the room overhead scraping old brushes furiously against a canvas, and finally Crispin standing dutifully in front of the asylum's only other elevator.

"Crispin!" Loboto said, and the man turned to face somewhere slightly to his left. "Let me up, will you?"

"Of course, Doctor Loboto." Crispin turned toward the elevator controls, only to pause, his dull eyes squinting as he turned back. "Wait..."

"Wait for what?" Loboto threw out his arm in a wide gesture. "Do you want to hear that army man ranting at us again? Or perhaps you find it funny! Though it is, isn't it? Shouting about sneezing powder and tanks! HAH!"

While he'd been talking, Crispin had been leaning forward, eyeing him up and down. He frowned. "You're not Doctor Loboto," he said at length.

"WHAT?!"

Behind him, Fred sprang to his feet. "Sacré bleu! We have fallen asleep on ze battlefield!"

Ignoring the man and his terrible French accent, Loboto stepped closer to Crispin, finding himself trembling—in rage or in suppressed laughter or something else, he wasn't sure. "Of course I'm Doctor Loboto! I was, last I checked. Highly trained and professional!"

"Yes, well," Crispin began, leaning back and raising a brow, "the real Doctor Loboto does not wear an actual straitjacket. It's merely a strappy jacket fashioned from one."

"This is my jacket, you milky-eyed moron!" Loboto cried, tugging on the front of his coat in demonstration. "It doesn't have my arms tied up!" He lunged toward Crispin to grab him by the collar, but stumbled as the world spun once more. He struggled to keep his stomach from flipping again.

"Well, that's because you're wearing it poorly. But you are certainly not Doctor Loboto. I can tell. You don't have the right jacket, or the right complexion." He tipped his head. "The real Doctor Loboto is blue, not sickly gray. As you can see, you can't fool me. Now go back to wherever you came from and—"

"He has returned from ze war!" Fred blurted behind him. He blinked, then shook his head, hunching in on himself. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, we really shouldn't—" He straightened again. "Yes, shut up! We are in ze presence of a great war hero!"

Crispin rolled his eyes. "What are you going on about now, Fred?"

"Do you not see? He bears ze blood of his enemies upon his robes, and ze scars of victory—"

Loboto whirled on him faster than he could think, managing a swift kick to Fred's shin.

With a yelp, the man crashed to the ground, curling up on himself and whining. "Ohhh... can we just postpone the battle until morning?" He twitched. "NON! Ze enemy never sleeps, so neither shall we!"

"Well, Fred's down for the count again," Cripsin remarked. "So if you're done, kindly step away from my elevator and off the nearest cliff, thanks."

Loboto wanted nothing more than to knock Crispin to the ground and find a few bad teeth to remove, but his vision was blurring and flickering, and he found it hard to think.

"No, really, we can't fight in the dark, and the enemy can't either, can they?" "Rrrrrghhh, I suppose you are right, for once. We shall camp here for now, but come sunrise, we fight!"

A weak laugh made its way past his lips as he stared down at the former orderly settling on the cobblestone. Yes, that crazy man had a point. There was no point in fighting tonight—he'd get his work done in the morning. And that work would have to include getting back into his lab in the first place.

After a brief moment, he snatched an item from the floor before stumbling back through the greenhouse and toward the entrance.

A nice night for sleeping under the stars, he supposed.

---~~~---

Judging by how bright the world was by the time his mechanical eyes flickered back on, the sun was starting to rise. But he couldn't tell for sure when there was a large metal cage blocking his view, with something else within—

"He said he would be back by nightfall, but he hasn't come!" a high pitched voice cried as a familiar form stepped out of the elevator, her back to him. "Oh Mr. Pokeylope, do you think he's gone for good this time?"

The corner of Loboto's mouth twitched.

"Oops!" She clapped an oven mitt over her mouth. "I'm glad he's not around to hear me say that," she said as she began to turn. "If he was, he'd be—EEK!"

Sheegor jumped back at the sight of Loboto laying sprawled out at the foot of the fountain, having slept (or passed out) there the remainder of the night. He clutched his worn teddy close to his chest and stared her in the eyes.

"Oh—I—I—!" Sheegor held her pet turtle close to herself. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry Doctor Loboto, I didn't mean any of that, I—"

"Yes, well it's a nice morning, isn't it?" Loboto grumbled, tucking the teddy bear under his arm so he could push himself to his feet. His entire body ached (from sleeping on the ground, not from anything else). "A nice morning to get some work done after you left me stranded here all night!" He took a threatening—but wobbling—step forward, fist clenched.

Oddly, Sheegor didn't seem as intimidated as usual. Her mouth gaped, and her eyes darted between his face and his right side.

"What are you looking at?"

"Y... you..." A trembling mitt was covering her open mouth. "D-Doctor! What happened to you?!"

His eyes flickered. "I slept out here with a rock for a pillow."

"N-no, it's—it's—!" Her whole body was shaking now, but not, he sensed, in fear of him. It should have made him angry, but exhaustion pulled at him instead, making his frame droop.

"Yes? Well, spit it out."

Sheegor held out one hand, pointed toward his right side. "Y-your arm!"

Loboto's optics slowly angled down to his right. For the first time he noticed the enormous, darkened bloodstains on his jacket, and a torn, empty sleeve hanging limply at his side.

"Oh," he said dully, feeling himself wobble as the pain finally worked its way to the forefront of his mind. "How did that happen?"

At once the world tipped to the side, and Sheegor caught him, straining to keep him from fully collapsing to the ground.

Wordlessly she helped him into the elevator, letting him lean onto her while he bit back the urge to scream. He wanted to protest, to berate her for touching him, but everything felt distant, even the upper floor of the asylum as they rapidly ascended toward it. And anyway, once they reached the top, anything he would have said was held back by his rolling stomach ejecting whatever bile still occupied it.

As he gagged, he could hear Sheegor whispering to the turtle in her mitts: "I know, I know, but I-I can't leave him like that—th-the asylum wouldn't... w-we were supposed to..."

"Just... get back to work... Sheegor," he managed to slur around the acrid taste in his mouth. Bitter bile breaks brittle bones of the mouth.

Sheegor looked from him to her turtle a few times, her mouth wobbling, and carefully eased his arm over her hunched back again. Instead of leading him to his lab, however, she led him down into the asylum, into the usual room he slept in: a mostly-intact bedroom with a mattress and blankets over a broken bed frame shoved into one corner, a chair and a desk with papers scattered across it, and a meticulously crafted and framed (and official) DDS license on the wall.

After easing him down into the bed, Sheegor stepped back, looking away. "Um... I-if you want, Doctor, I can clean that robe..."

His initial thought was that the blood stains made a wonderful addition to his ensemble, but glancing down at them again caused his brain to supply him with more awful, made-up nonsense. No, he wouldn't have that any longer.

With some amount of struggling he managed to get the thing off, unceremoniously tossing it in Sheegor's general direction. She managed to catch it and quickly scurried out. "I'll get this back to you as soon as I can Doctor bye!" she squeaked before the door slammed behind her, leaving Loboto sitting in the empty room.

Everything felt surreal, being in familiar surroundings after spending an entire night on freezing cobblestone. The sight when his gaze turned downward, however, was less familiar: there was new stitching across his chest, and on his right shoulder where his arm had been. It was cleanly done—they hadn't wanted him too much worse for wear, since he still had a job to do for—

Oleander. He had a job to do for Oleander right now. The sneezing powder, yes. His mind drifted over the things they'd discussed in their last meeting.

They'd both figured out a way for it to be made, more or less. The remaining issue was how to properly dispense the stuff. Oleander had suggested keeping it in a bag, but that was easily-spilled, and it may lose potency if pre-ground. But what was he supposed to do? He didn't have a grinder with him on-hand at all times—

A shock of brilliance bolted through him, and he stumbled to his desk with renewed energy. He grabbed a well-chewed pencil and began to write, his non-dominant hand shaking badly as he forced it into motions it was not used to.

But that was fine. It wouldn't have that job for long.

A manic giggle bubbled out of his throat as he worked out the notes and rough sketches, detailing a jointed pepper grinder with claws and a strap to secure it to his now-unoccupied side.

This loss of a limb, baffling as it was, was exactly what he needed.

#caligosto loboto #sheegor #crispin whytehead #boyd cooper #psychonauts #fred bonaparte #gloria von gouton #my writing #my art #fanfic #aka 'loboto and the terrible horrible no good very bad night'#also okay Boyd does try to help a bit #and also Sheegor is Very Good and she does not deserve the crap Loboto puts her through

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goldensstateofgrace · 3 years

Note

HI BESTIE! could you possibly do #8 and #21 from the angst prompts but then #2 from the “i love you” prompts to give it a happy ending. I LOVE YOU! HAPPY WRITING!!! 💗💗💗

Lies.

Requests || Masterlist || Spencer Masterlist ||

Warnings: talk of not being enough, insecurity, lying, (lmk if there is anything else)

Word count: 2760

Pairing: Spencer x fem!reader

- I hope you like this! Happy reading!! - G

Spencer’s pov.

This feeling never goes away does it? The feeling of not being enough, and feeling insecure in everything you do? I know, I know I'm not enough for her, and that she’s just passing time before she finds something better.

When I first met her she was walking out of my favorite coffee shop, coffee in one hand and a book in the other, one that I came to know she’s read over and over again because it’s her favorite. I accidentally bumped into her, not watching where i was going and spilled her coffee all over the front of her lilac sweater.

I remember her gasp when the hot liquid hit the skin of her hands and the look of shock on her face when she looked up at me. I was sure she was going to curse me out and any other hurtful words she could come up with, but she didn’t.

She looked up at me, the shock gone from her soft and beautiful features as she told me she's sorry.

She told me she’s sorry. When it was clearly my fault. I was the one who hadn’t been paying attention, but yet she’s the one saying sorry for something that was completely out of her hands.

So once the shock had worn off and I came back to my senses, I bought her another coffee and we talked. We talked, and it felt really good to talk to someone other than the team or the victims of the cases we go on.

I knew she was out of my league, god was she out of my league.

When she asked for my number and to get coffee again sometime, the shock came back and I didn't know what to do. Why would she want to talk to me? The nerdy FBI profiler who can’t really read social queues or make conversation without correcting someone or stating random facts.

But I gave it to her. Why? I’m not sure, I wasn’t expecting her to call or text, I just thought she was being friendly.

But a week later, I got a text asking to meet up for coffee as long as I promised to not spill it all over her that time.

After that we met up for coffee often, eventually I worked up the nerve to ask her on a real date. She said yes immediately to my surprise.

In the back of my mind, I knew I wasn't good enough for her, she needed someone that could be there for her, not me who was always away on cases or teaching.

But now we've been together for a little over four months and I’m so happy with her, I just can’t help the lingering insecurity in the back of my mind that she’s not happy and I’m not good enough for her.

-----

Y/n’s pov

Four months.

You’ve been with Spencer for four months. He treats you right and is so attentive. You’ve never been happier. You never never thought getting coffee spilled on you would lead you to the happiest you've ever been.

You never had to be worried that he would cheat or lie, he never gave you any of the red flags you used to overlook in your other relationships. He never lied to you.

Until now.

You understood when he called and had to cancel your date night for an emergency case, the same way you understood the three other times he had to do the same.

You understood because people's lives depended on him and his team to catch the person responsible for causing so much chaos. They needed him more than you did in that moment.

What you didn’t understand is why he was sitting in a bar with the whole team, laughing. You didn’t believe your eyes, he lied? Why would he lie?

You didn’t know how to feel, you didn’t know the tears that started welling up in your eyes finally fell and he chose that moment to look your way.

“Y/n,” he sighed, the shock clear on his face and in his wide chocolate eyes.

Wiping your tears away, you stumble over your feet turning around and quickly making your way out of the bar and back to your apartment.

You heard him pushing through the large group that walked in right behind you, calling your name but was too late. By the time he made it outside you had already flagged down a cab and drove off.

Once you got home you undressed and curled up in a ball in bed. You stared at the wall for a while, your brain running over all the possibilities that could have happened. He and the team probably just wrapped up early and went out for a drink, he probably got caught up and forgot to text.

Yeah, that’s what you told yourself. Ready to give him the benefit of the doubt and hear what he has to say.

You didn’t realise but you fell asleep, waking up the next morning to the smell of coffee. Wait what?

You sit up, hearing the cabinets opening and closing and the toaster popping up. Flinging your feet over the side of the bed, you stand making your way out of your bedroom and into your open kitchen/living room.

You freeze, your eyes watching Spencer buttering the toast before he pours coffee in your favorite coffee cup.

“What are you doing?” you mutter, voice filled with sleep.

He stops what he’s doing, spinning around to look at you, a shy smile on his face, “I wanted to explain” he pauses, “If you’ll let me,” he says, looking down at his shoes, you can see a hint of the mix matched socks he chose for today.

Pineapples and stars.

You try to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. You always loved the mix matched socks he wore, ready to see what he chose for that particular day when you used to meet up for coffee.

“You lied, is there really much to explain?” you tell him, your voice cold and almost detached.

You aren’t one for lying, it's all your ex used to do and you’re so done with it. You’re done being pushed around and your partner picking and choosing what they get to tell you and leave you in the dark on.

“Yes, there is. I didn’t lie, we wrapped up early and my phone was dead. I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. Y/n I promise, I wanted to come straight to you when we landed, but the team hadn’t been out in awhile and they talked me into going for at least one drink.” he rambled all in one breath, only stopping when you sat at the counter.

He placed toast and coffee in front of you, smiling slightly before he started again.

“y/n please,” he started.

You think it over, you had tried to call him and it went to his voicemail, he always answers, he has never once lied to you. Never given you a reason to think he was lying.

Maybe you jumped to the conclusion, maybe he was telling the truth. You are so used to being hurt and lied to that that's the first thing your brain thought happened.

You nod, “ok,” you say, your voice soft.

“Ok?” he questioned. He rounded the counter, moving to your side, gently taking your face in his hands.

You nod softly, “I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions. I’m not used to people not lying, I’m sorry,” you said, your eyes filling with tears.

“No, I’m sorry. I should have just come to you,” he said, an emotion you can’t pinpoint filling his voice. It sounded like he was guilty, but he had nothing to be guilty about.

----

Things after that day got better in a way, but something felt off and you couldn’t tell what it was.

Spencer had to cancel another date, as he had a couple other times since that day, but he always called, telling you he landed and when they wrapped the case.

This time he didn’t, but you didn’t freak out like last time, he did leave his charger at your apartment before he left for the case.

You were going over to his place to clean it up a bit, do some of his laundry and make some prep meals he can take to work for lunch. You knew he was always so exhausted after cases and didn’t have the energy to clean and do laundry when he got back.

Walking up the stairs of his apartment building you hummed the tune to a song stuck in your head, as you fiddled with your keyring looking for his key. Pausing as you found it before you unlocked his door.

You were carrying a couple shopping bags of cleaning supplies and stuff for the meal prep you planned to do. You set those down next to the door, turning on the light and letting out a small scream.

“Spencer?” you ask, your hand over your chest like it would stop the heaving beating of your heart.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, rounding the couch he was on, he looked tired, in his lavender colored bathrobe and staring at the wall.

“Why do you keep lying? Is this what you’ve been doing every time you cancel on me? Just staying here?” you ask, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

Your mind was running a million miles a minute trying to figure out what was happening, “Spencer answer me!” you cried.

“Yes,” he muttered, finally. He looks down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers.

Your heart dropped, he’s been lying the whole time. He’s no different from all your other ex’s, lying, lying, and lying some more while you were oblivious.

Your heart feels like it broke in two, you thought he was different, he was supposed to be different.

“You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what? You yelled, tears streaming down your face, “You lied! You lied again and I fell for it!”

“Were done Spencer, I-” you sob out a cry, “I can’t be with someone who lies, I can’t do it. You knew, you knew what happened in my last relationship and you did the same. How could you!” you cry.

The whole time he just sat there playing with his fingers, not looking at you.

You quickly gathered your stuff, about to walk out the door before you remembered. You quickly found his key, pulling it off your keyring, “I hope you have a good life Spencer, I don’t need this anymore,” you say looking at him one last time, tossing the key on the table next to his door.

“Y/n wa-” you hear him call, but you were already out the door. Holding back the sobs until you got to your car and you broke. Letting out all of your hurt, sobbing and crying your eyes out. You never knew you could hurt this much, you were just starting to love him.

-----

It’s been almost three months since you broke up with Spencer, all the hurt and betrayal you felt has slowly been fading and you're getting back into your routines and getting back out there.

You were having a night in, watching a movie and drinking a glass of wine as you waited for your popcorn to pop.

There’s a knock on the door, you set your glass down walking to the door and opening it slightly, shocked at who you saw standing there.

“Spencer?” you mutter, pulling the door open a little more, “what are you doing here?”

“I- I need to talk to you, please? I know you don’t want to see or talk to me but- please?” he sounds desperate, and he’s rocking back in forth on his toes. Something he does when he’s nervous, you remember.

You nod, moving away from the door and letting him in, “uh, do you want water or something else?” you ask, moving back into the kitchen.

He shakes his head, “no, thank you.”

He stands there, playing with his fingers as he looks like he’s going over something in his head.

“Spenc-” you start but are cut off.

“I’m sorry” he blurts out, his hands stretched out in front of him, “I'm sorry about everything, I'm sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Y/n, but please just hear me out?” he asks.

You nod, you have nothing to lose, and you always wondered what it was that made him lie.

“Ok, uh, can we sit?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, moving into the living room, sitting on one end of the couch as he takes the other.

“I didn’t think I would get this far, if i’m being honest,” he smiles shyly.

“Just start from the beginning, why did you lie?” you ask, turning to face him crossing your legs on the couch.

“I- I was working through some stuff. I was trying to be better while my mind was telling me I wasn't enough, not for you, not for anyone. You deserved so much better than what I could ever give you, but I want to be better, I am better, because of you. I’m so sorry for treating you how I did, y/n, you didn’t deserve it.” he rambled, your mind trying to catch up with everything he just said.

“I-” you pause, not knowing what to say. He is the right person for you, you had never been happier than you were with him.

“Were you going to break up with me?” you ask him, looking him in the eyes as you pull at your fingers.

He shakes his head, looking away for a second before answering, “I’m not sure. I know this time apart has really helped me work through everything and made me realise how much i care and lo- like you,” he stutters, looking at you shyly.

You smile, scooting closer to him. You grab his hand, squeezing softly, “I want you to know you could have told me what you were going through, I would have done everything in my power to show you how perfect you are, in general and for me.” you smile, looking at him softly.

“I want you to know how sorry I am too. I shouldn’t have just walked out that day, I should have stayed and listened when you called after me. Spence, I am so sorry, I am. You’re the only thing that matters, to me, to my heart.” your eyes well up with tears as you smile at him.

“I’m sorry,” you shrug, laughing lightly wiping away your tears before his hand comes up and his thumb wipes away a lone tear.

“Y/n, I love you. God, that feels good to say,” he chuckles, wiping away another tear. His hands cupping your face, he leans his forehead on yours, breath fanning your lips. “I love you, and I don’t care if it’s too early to say that, I fell for you the moment I saw you.” he breathes out, his smile contagious.

You can’t help the wide smile that breaks out on your face, you breathe out a laugh pulling back to look him in the eyes, “I love you, Spencer Reid. So. Fucking. Much.” you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him to you and kissing him hard.

The kiss was full of love and unspoken words that only he could understand.

“Y/n, will you take me back? I promise to do everything in my power to not let you down again.” he asks, shy and nervous. He pulls back, looking at you waiting for you to give him and answer.

“Yes, I love you, Spence, so much. I promise to do everything in my power to not let you down and to hear what you have to say. Please come to me when your head gets too much, I’ll be here to reassure you how much I love you.” you tell him, smiling wide, happier than you have been in months.

He goes in for a lingering kiss, only withdrawing to catch his breath, “I love you, y/n. A whole fucking lot.”

taglist (ask to be added or taken off) : @vividstyles23 @harrystylesandharrypotter @thesadstoryofme @shemarmooresfedora @spencersawkward

#Spencer Reid #dr Spencer Reid #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid fluff #dr Reid #dr spencer reid fic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer fluff #spencer angst #fluff #angst #criminal minds spencer reid #dr spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine

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thatringboy · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on and Spoilers for the new Sanders Asides video (Working THROUGH Intrusive Thoughts) below, a rant, theory dump and semi-coherent analysis:

You can watch the new video on Thomas Sanders’ YouTube account here!

I thought that the topic of this video was pretty interesting. Often, and this is in my personal experience, motivational speakers don’t really address helpful ways to deal with intrusive thoughts and instead opt for “just ignore them, they’ll go away.”

So to have an entire episode dedicated to how to be productive while being haunted by intrusive thoughts was really nice

Now onto picking apart the thematic elements of this episode

First of all: Remus my beloved rat son. The idea of him being allergic to soap, but also having pickled poo log flavored deodorant as his go-to snack is hilarious. Never mind having his eye gouged out, his soap allergy is what’ll get him! (and his little eyepatch was adorable omfg)

Next, Logan’s emotional development. It’s so surreal to see him taking Thomas’ emotions into account when interacting with... anyone tbh. We’ve seen Logan be the antagonist when it comes to super emotional moments in Thomas’ life and him having to be schooled by Virgil on how to be more understanding of Thomas’ heart along with his brain

I was almost expecting Virgil to make an appearance this episode with all of the anxious moments Thomas was having, but at the same time this was a problem that Logan didn’t need help with.

The dancing scene where the magenta lighting overtook and pushed out the lime lighting was just beautiful. It was Logan saying “You no longer have any power here” to Remus

btw Nico is very cool and kudos to him for joining the cast

And Logan dumping out his coffee in exchange for wine killed me

So themes of this video tie back to the healthy distractions video. Thomas had a lot of things to do and was getting overwhelmed, so being presented with the coloring and the puzzle as an escape was super mature on Logan’s part. I’m proud of him for that

And his whole speech about how even Remus is an important part of Thomas’s life was nice. Those intrusive thoughts and anxieties keep Thomas from leaving the door unlocked or going into dangerous situations like they always prepare him for the worst in a way. Of course, Remus is a little dick through and through and ignores him, but I enjoyed seeing Logan acknowledge the importance of the emotional Sides

Also:

ORANGE LOGAN IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL HOLY SHIT MY THEORY MAKING BRAIN IS GOING OFF THE CHARTS

What does this mean for the sides? We knew that an orange side was inevitable from the SVS Redux video which was a Patton/Janus-centric episode... was Logan actually in that one? Janus was impersonating him during the first half, especially during the part when the orange text appeared here:

So like Virgil, was Logan once a Dark Side? His short temper has been a joke for the entire series, but seeing his eyes do that glowing thing when he lost his cool with Remus was startling.

All of the theories about the Orange!Side being “Anger” or “Procrastination” have suddenly become really relevant, huh?

If the Sides started really coming into their own during Thomas’ childhood (you know, when one doesn’t really have time for Logic), then having a Side that embodied Frustration alongside Deceit, Creativity, Anxiety and his childhood’s version of Morality makes a lot of sense. Only after Thomas matured and became an adult did Frustration turn into Logic and then Logan as we know him now.

Now I may just be pulling this out of my ass, but I relate the Sides to my own life. I grew up frustrated with the world about everything wrong in my life and how I didn’t fit in or how homophobia/transphobia is running rampant in my hometown and how my anxiety got in the way of a lot of things I wanted to do, but over time my frustration turned into cold, unemotional resentment. I thought that if I could bottle up my anger and focus only on the facts of life then I could be happy. Anxiety could be explained with a chart, Creativity could have a cork shoved in it when it got too rambunctious, Morality was simply just societal standards placed on everyone.

Doesn’t that sound familiar?

I had to learn to turn my Logic back into something emotional and living - to get it to understand that the emotional parts of my life are valuable as well - but I still get furious when the voices of the oppressed are being brushed under a rug and suffering is made a joke of. I still have a lot of progress to make with myself and that’s okay

So is Logan doing something similar as Thomas is developing a healthier lifestyle and mindset? He showed expert analysis skills when he successfully moved Thomas out of the way of Remus’ antics, but in the end he still has some embers of his past flickering to life

So did Logan once represent Frustration before taking up the mantle of Logic?

if you’ve read this far, thank you for putting up with my rambling and i hope you enjoyed this brandump!

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders asides #working through intrusive thoughts #sanders siders spoilers #sanders asides spoilers #remus sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides theory #sanders asides theory #remus #logan #wtit #wtit spoilers

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orangepeelers · 4 years

Text

it’s you

my boys go to the beach and are a little very slow on picking up hints

***

Remus awoke to a text from Sirius.

As he saw his name on the screen, excitement bloomed in his stomach and made his toes curl. He felt elated for a brief moment, before forcing himself to punch the feeling down into the recesses of his mind. He couldn’t feel that way about Sirius. He wouldn’t feel that way about Sirius. He’s just your friend, he reminded himself.

His heart didn’t really get the memo.

Remus rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced over at Peter’s sleeping form. The four of them were staying at the Potters’ beach house, spending the hottest days of the summer eating ice cream on the boardwalk and swimming in the ocean. He hated that despite the fact that Sirius was in the room next door with James, a text from him could still have such an effect.

He unlocked his phone to read the text, anxiety and excitement mingling in his chest. Hey Moons. I woke up a little early today. Proud of me?

Remus grinned and rolled his eyes. Sure I am Pads. Of the four of them, Remus was the only early riser, a fact which he never let them forget. He found Sirius’ gesture endearing, if a little strange. Waking up early was so out of character for him.

His legs jiggled nervously as he awaited a response. He couldn’t help but wonder whether his waking up early was for a specific reason. Running through his head in an attempt to tamp down his overactive imagination was a constant stream of shutupshutupshutupshutupshut-

Wanna go for a run on the beach?

Remus’ fingers moved of their own accord. Sure. Breakfast at 3 Broomsticks after?

Of course!! See u in like 2 seconds. Love u Moons

At the last three words, Remus’ heart did a little skip rope routine. He knew it was just Sirius being Sirius, but the words still found the nooks and crannies of his brain and filled him with warmth. They stoked the fire of false hope he had burning in his mind, like vodka on their weekly beach bonfires.

He got dressed quickly, overthinking between his choice of old t shirts before settling on one from some event his parents had organized. Taking care not to wake Peter, he crept to the door and stepped into the hall, easing it shut. Sirius was already in the living room, long hair tied up into a ponytail. Black strands framed his face, bouncing against his cheekbones as he turned to look at Remus.

He flashed the grin that Remus had pictured so many times while trying to fall asleep. “Moons! Ready for our run?”

Remus smiled back. “Shocked that you have this much energy this early.”

Sirius shrugged, still smiling. “I was just in a mood today. C’mon!”

The two walked out the door into the oppressive humidity of the east coast. The orderly streets full of pastel-colored beach houses were quiet in the early morning, the people inside still sleeping off the previous day of swimming and sunbathing. Sirius immediately stripped his shirt off, tucking it into his waistband.

“Fuck, it’s hot.”

Remus pretended to shake his head in disapproval, but his eyes were tracing the sloping lines of the other boy’s biceps, wondering how it would feel to wrap his hands around them. He swallowed the thought before also stripping his shirt. Sirius grinned cockily.

“And I thought you were judging me.”

Remus mock-bowed. “Why, never!”

They started running, following the unpopulated streets to the beach. It wasn’t too far, and when they got there the sandy plains were mostly empty except for a few people walking. A bubble of laughter and conversation surrounded them, disrupting the early morning silence. They ran along the beach, listening to the waves lap against the shore as they sun came up. By the time they got to the Three Broomsticks, they were soaked in sweat and panting hard.

Sirius pushed his hair off of his forehead and mopped the sweat with his t shirt. “Hell, I’m never waking up early again.”

Remus laughed. “Hey, what about Belgian waffles?”

Sirius considered the waffles for a moment. “Hmm... You do make a very valid point. Maybe I’ll do it once more. As a treat for you, of course.”

They laughed before slipping their shirts on and going inside. The Three Broomsticks was Remus’ favorite restaurant on the boardwalk. The inside was quaint, with blue-checked tablecloths and pictures of patrons and vintage posters lining the walls. Natural light streamed in through the big windows facing the beach as a few other early customers ate and chatted. The brunch rush hadn’t started yet, so they were able to get a table close to the big windows.

Remus studied the boy sitting across from him. His eyes were gray and studious as he read the menu, with a hint of mischievous humor, like he might order blue eggs and burst into laughter before the waiter could say anything. Dark hair fell across his face before he pushed it back, still reading through the list of pancake varieties.

Sirius glanced up before Remus could look away. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something in my teeth?”

Remus just smiled, hoping the flush of embarrassment would be written off as a result of their run. “Just wondering why you’re reading this more intently than anything else I’ve ever seen you look at.”

“Hey, I take my breakfast very seriously, Moons.” He pointed a finger at him, pretending to be stern. “And you should too. It’s an important part of the growing boy’s regimen.”

“Okay, okay.” Remus put his hands up in surrender. “But I know you’re just going to order what you always do.”

“I also like routine, Moons.” Sirius said, shaking his finger before returning to the menu.

A waiter walked over and introduced himself before taking their orders.

Sirius pretended to think. “I think I’ll have... Chocolate chip Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.”

Remus shook his head at him. “I’ll have the same.” See, told you so, he mouthed. Sirius just rolled his eyes and smiled.

The waiter took their menus and walked away. Sirius turned his full attention to Remus. “So, Rem. Lily tells me you have a little summer romance up your sleeve.”

Remus’ heart beat double-time. He’d confessed his crush to Lily, because he just had to tell somebody and he trusted her to keep her mouth shut. Technically, he supposed, she hadn’t told Sirius, but his legs bounced nervously like his deepest secret had been discovered.

Remus laughed awkwardly. “Well, I guess you could say that.”

Sirius cast an analytical look before sinking back into his chair. For a moment, Remus swore disappointment flickered across his face. Impossible, he reminded himself. Silence hung in the air thickly.

“Well, not quite a romance. More like useless pining.” He amended. He met Sirius’ gray eyes, and for once, they were unreadable as he studied him across the table.

“Well, I think anyone would be lucky to have you.” Sirius said sincerely. “You should tell them. Who knows? They might feel the same, and you can have an actual summer romance.”

Remus smiled, a little sadly. “Yeah. Maybe.” He studied the tablecloth intently, a heavy layer of quiet laced with tension settling over them. They each pretended to be very interested in the cloth napkins.

Sirius cleared his throat, a little awkwardly, trying to break the tension. Thankfully, their waiter arrived with two plates stacked with thick waffles and glasses of fresh, bright orange juice. The arrival of food dispersed some of the binding silence and conversation flowed again as they dug into the hot, crispy-yet-soft waffles.

They finished up their meal and paid the bill, setting out to walk back to the house. It was about nine, which was still relatively early in beach time. A few people were laying out towels and umbrellas on the beach. The sun was properly up, beating its hot rays down on the morning and dispersing the dew. Sea breeze carried the scent of salt as it ruffled their hair and scattered their laughter.

As they got onto the more quiet streets, their conversation turned, once again, to talk of summer romances.

Why does he keep bringing this up? Remus thought. The last thing he needed was a reminder that the person he wanted most in the world was unattainable. The constant thought hung about his head like vines in a jungle, and he didn’t want to see those words personified as Sirius rambled on.

“I was really hoping this summer would finally be the one where I wasn’t afraid to speak my mind.” Sirius’ clear voice led Remus back to their conversation.

A lump formed in Remus’ throat as he nodded. “Me too, honestly.”

They walked side-by-side, spilling out a little onto the lawns of the houses. Remus saw Sirius glance over, almost nervously, as he continued. “Yeah, I’ve sort of had this major crush on someone for a while. But I’ve never been able to tell them.”

Remus laughed, a little bitterly. How ironic that they were each in the same situation, yet Remus knew that Sirius could get anyone he wanted. He probably hadn’t told this mystery person because he wanted to see how long he could drag it out. Not that Sirius was cruel, but he couldn’t see any situation in which he simply couldn’t tell somebody he liked them. It just didn’t make sense.

“Well, I think you should tell them.”

“Yeah?”

Remus swallowed thickly. What matters is that he’s happy, he reminded himself. All the useless pining in the world didn’t give him a right to impede Sirius’ happiness, or decide who he dated. “Well, if you’ve liked them for a while, then either they’ve figured it out or they’re too stupid to realize. Either way it would be a push in the right direction. And, you’re Sirius fucking Black.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Remus pushed him lightly and smiled. “You know what it means, you egoistic dolt. Like you told me, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Sirius smiled faintly, as if adding Remus’ words to a mental list. They continued walking until they were about a block from the Potters’. By now, Peter and James were probably being woken up by Mrs. Potter opening curtains and humming. Remus smiled to himself at the thought. He looked over at Sirius, who was deep in thought, brow furrowed. He wished he could see what the other boy was thinking.

All of a sudden, Sirius stopped. He grabbed Remus by the hand and pulled him so they were facing each other. Their chests were bare inches from each other, which Remus was hyper aware of as he looked down into his face. He was a few inches taller than Sirius, and being so close made that feel like a few feet. He could feel his soft breath as they looked into each other’s faces.

Sirius’ gaze was intense as he took a deep breath. He was still holding onto Remus’ hand and he gave it a subconscious squeeze, as if trying to gather confidence. They stood like that for several seconds until either of them remembered to talk.

“What-”

“Rem, I-”

They laughed a little breathlessly. Remus seriously thought that his heart would explode. All he wanted was to close the distance between them. But he restrained himself and settled for saying, “You first.”

Sirius hesitated a moment, before resolve hardened in his eyes. “It’s you.”

“What?”

“You’re the summer romance person. You’re the person I’ve liked for a while.”

Remus blinked. The words floated around his head before he was able to string them together. All he could do was stare back at Sirius, unable to believe what he was hearing. He felt like a fish gasping on a dry dock, unable to suck in air to form words. “I- um, I-”

Sirius stared back, expression alert as Remus floundered for words. Finally, he was able to peel the letters from his throat and force the sentence out. “It’s you too.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, as the realization of their words settled around them like snow. Slowly, Sirius placed his hands on Remus shoulders, the around his neck, fingers tracing the muscles there gently. His hands shook Remus out of his stupor and he pulled Sirius closer, hands on his waist.

Then Sirius kissed him.

The kiss was everything a kiss should be. Deep in his stomach, Remus felt the same excitement from earlier in the morning return a hundredfold. Sirius’ mouth was soft and sweet from the waffles. They were so close, bodies pressed together despite the summer heat. He felt like a body of stars, constellations blooming on his skin wherever Sirius touched him. Adrenaline raced through his body as Sirius pulled back to look at him.

He smiled, softer than Remus had seen him before, a smile just for him. “I’d say this is my summer.”

Remus smiled back, hands intertwining behind his waist. “I’d say so too.”

#wolfstar #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #Moony #Padfoot #Sirus Black #remus x sirius #Remus Lupin #the marauders #beach au #harry potter #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #wolfstar fic #wolfstar oneshot #mlm fic

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iwantitiwriteit · 4 years

Text

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 2

The Meet Cute - Part 2

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris Evans at a rooftop, industry party in New York, but will your awkwardness ruin the night?

Warnings: Profanity, Sexual connotations, fluff gone sour (?) Read on to know what I mean

Notes: Please check out the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part! Read the previous part here.

Although you had a few lightweight drinks, not wanting to get too turnt in front of strangers, you’re not really sure how you ended up here: In the middle of the dance floor, spinning, stepping and outright getting down with Chris motherfucking Evans.

It may have started with your light buzz, then a declaration of “that’s my song!!!” on your behalf, then Chris following you like a wide eyed puppy.

A mellower song plays. Yours and Chris’ energy comes down some, chemistry lingering. You simultaneously notice you’re holding hands and become all too aware of yourselves. Meaningless “ums” and “uhs” fill the air until you excuse yourself to the restroom, but not before you exchange shy smiles with Chris.

You freshen up in the mirror and take a moment to reflect on the night, on meeting Chris, with his tall, muscular frame, genuine smile, heart warming laugh, and blue eyes you could just drown in… Get a grip, SIS! You’re supposed to be meeting industry professionals, not fawning over snackable superheroes, no matter how charming. What time is it even…?

Pawing at your person for a sign of your phone, you realize you might have left it at the bar. Ugh, I hope no one took it. Who am I kidding? Rich people don’t steal phones… right?

You hurriedly rush out of the bathroom, but stop short at the sight of a boyish-looking Chris, hands tucked in his pockets. For the second time tonight, you both take a moment to take each other in. You don’t realize it, but you hold your breath as his eyes scan your hair, your eyes…her nose, her lips, her skin—

“You found it!”

“Huh?”

“My phone! Thank God! I don’t know what I’d do without it!” You say as you point to the black, sparkly device poking out of his pocket. It only became visible when Chris subconsciously went to rub his beard, under a trance at the sight of you.

“Yeah, the bartender found it. I told her I’d give it to you.”

You go to retrieve it from his pocket, but stop short again, reminding yourself you shouldn’t be that handsy with him. He takes that as a cue, and returns the phone to its rightful owner.

You check the time. 1:39 am. Yeesh.

“I know, right?” It must’ve shown on your face. “I didn’t even notice half the party cleared out,” he says while looking at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You chuckle lightly as you take in your surroundings for the first time in God knows how many hours. Had I really lost track of time, giggling with him all night? Yes sis, you did.

Tens of people are scattered about, trash is being cleaned up, and some of the younger staff are taking advantage of the photo-op area. Meanwhile, Chris is rambling about something, cutely at that, but you don’t tune in until he asks, “Do you?”

“Do I…”

He chuckles and says, “Have a place to stay in Boston yet? I always wait until the last minute to find a place when I’m filming out of town.”

You cock your brow. “Are you offering?”

“Ha! No ma’am! I enjoy my bachelor’s pad how it is. Just me and my best boy, Dodger.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm, just a pair of dysfunctional, male codependents.”

“So, it’s a no girls allowed ordeal?”

“No, it’s just--”

“A different girl every night, and they’re on their merry way by morning?”

“No--”

“Oh, so--”

“WILL YOU LET ME TALK?! Jeez woman...” You both giggle at your antics and his feigned frustration. He rakes a hand through his hair before he begins again, but you attempt to cut him off one last time for fun. “Wow, ok!” He makes like he’s going to walk away, but you catch him by the wrist to keep him in place.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry!” You say between laughs and tugs on his arm. “Look, I’ll zip it,” Chris turns to you as you mime zipping and locking your lips. He puts his free hand out, not wanting to lose this physical contact with you, motioning for the imaginary key. You oblige.

“Thank you, and for good measure...” he tucks the “key” in his pocket. You’re admiring the deep, rich tone of his voice when he gently places his hand over your mouth, his other hand still in your hold. Your brain is short-circuiting and your heart is skipping several beats.

“I was going to say,” wow, your eyes are just... wow. “It’s more like a different girl every other night, gone by dawn.”

You scoff and swat his hand away from your mouth, and now you both laugh at his antics. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he quickly reassures, as if you couldn’t tell it was a joke.

“No, I just really value my space, ya know? Not that I don’t appreciate guests, because I really do! You should see me; I host a WICKED game night.”

“Oh, I bet.”

“I just have to be... never mind. That’s more than what you asked for.”

“No, no, what is it? You can tell me.”

“I guess, I just have to be… selective, about who I invite into my--”

“Game night?”

“You’re quite the smart ass, huh?” You smirk and shrug, but it’s true: you love to crack jokes-- good or bad, for better or for worse-- especially with people you’re comfortable with. We’re not that comfortable, though. We just met.

“I get it, though, truly. Especially in this line of work,” You pause for a moment, fiddling with your fingers before you ask, “Don’t you ever feel like you can’t tell someone’s intentions? Like, you can’t tell if someone wants to be around you for you or... for what they think they’ll get in return. It’s just easier to stay in your own, comfortable bubble sometimes. I don’t know…”

The way you asked made Chris think you were looking for some words of advice more than agreement. “Well, sussing out someone’s intentions is difficult, but gets easier with experience. And not just experience with dealing with a bunch of slimes balls, but experience in listening, trusting your gut when it talks to you.” He gives you a warm smile, and you give a half one back, the thoughts of your very recent past preventing your smile from being full, bright, the way Chris came to know it tonight. In that moment, he found himself missing it.

Sensing the heaviness, Chris changes the subject, “So, uh… have any plans after this?”

“At damn near 2 am?”

”Clearly you’ve never hung out in New York because this is considered too early to go home. This city never sleeps, ya’know? ‘S how it got the nickname.”

“No, I didn’t know that! Thanks for the tip.”

“Yeah, yeah of course, anytime.” The sarcastic back-and-forth leave you two smiling and gazing in each other’s eyes. Why do we keep doing this?

You clear your throat, “But, uh, no… well yes. Heading back to the hotel to get some Z’s. Gonna be at iHeartRadio tomorrow for a show, and I have to be alert for it.” You serve an overexaggerated focus face, to which he laughs at.

“Well, you could always have coffee.”

“Mm-mm, nope, no coffee for me. I’m still hoping to grow a few more inches.”

He sizes you up, “I don’t know, I think you’re just about done sprouting, Kid.”

“What did I say about calling me that?”

He drops his head a little and pouts his lip like a sad puppy, “Only Mackie can call you that...”

“Right! Don't make me tell you again. There won’t be a third time. Just, a consequence I have not thought of yet.” He lightly laughs as you continue, “Anyways, it’s an acoustic set, and I need real energy, real focus, ‘cos I feel like mistakes are far more noticeable when it’s stripped back, and I gotta be all here for it,” you tap your temple.

He nods, “Not only a smart ass, but quite the critic, too? Dangerous combination.” You shrug again. What can you say? You’re particular when it comes to music. “An acoustic set though— should be awesome! Who’s playing?”

...uuuummmm… You start and stop your reply a couple of times, before awkwardly laughing. Maybe he’s just messing with me… “It’s a secret,” you say with a wink.

“Hey! Kid, Captain Little Ass! I’ve been texting both of you! Come over here for a picture!” Mackie’s booming voice bursts your bubble, and the two of you make your way over. Scott, Ansel, Jaden, and a few other people who you probably should’ve met tonight are huddled in conversation. Mackie approaches you with his phone.

“You mind snapping a few pics of me and the boys? We’ll do a couple poses and then I wanna get you in there.”

“Oh, it would be my utmost pleasure to snap some ‘pics’ of you and ‘the boys’.”

While they sort out their poses, you make with unlocking Mackie’s phone. It opens to Mackie’s and Chris’ text chain, and what you see sinks your heart a little bit. Well, damn.

“Hey Kid, we’re ready,” Chris says with a smirk that quickly dissipates when you unintentionally scowl at him, stewing in your thoughts. He thinks it’s because you really don’t like the nickname, but boy is he so wrong.

Anthony was insistent on getting you in a picture, no matter how many times you declined saying you weren’t “picture ready”, when really you were too annoyed to prolong this night any longer. He waved over one of the gawking busboys, no doubt in awe of being in the same room as Shmaptin Shmerica.

As you handed the busboy the phone, he whispered he was a “big fan”, Oh. Really?, and “couldn’t believe” he was meeting you. You thanked him with a kind smile and offered to get a picture with him afterwards, Chris watching the endearing interaction. I’ll have to ask her what she’s been in so I can watch it.

Chris watched you as you scanned the group for a good spot to fit in, then go in the opposite direction of where he stood. After a few snaps, Chris yells, “EVERYBODY: NEW SPOTS, NEW POSE!!” Everyone scurries around, but you being stubborn, stay put. He inevitably finds his way to you, but you ignore his presence.

A few more pictures are taken. Everyone’s smiling their Hollywood smiles, but then there’s you on the end, just mean mugging. On the last picture, Chris puts his arm around your shoulders. The nerve, the GALL, the cologne… no, NO! Get it together! When the photos are done, you quickly go over to the busboy and make good on your promise of a picture with him. You can feel Chris’ eyes on you.

After a couple of selfies, Chris offers to take a picture for you both. When your fan is satisfied with the picture and gets back to work, Chris comes over to resume conversation with you, but you’re too in your head to hear him. You just see his plump, pink lips moving. Damn him and his good looks, and perfect lips and—

“How’s that sound?”

“How’s what sound?”

“Coffee— in Boston.”

“I’m sure there is some, but I thought y’all were more known for your tea parties.” He laughs and your breath is arrested by the beautiful sound, deepening your conflicted feelings. He seems so genuine, but the texts…

“I meant, when we’re both back in Boston, going out for coffee— with me?”

If he would text that, what does he want so badly to see me again for? *gasp* He must think I’m a quick fu— “Why?”

He’s taken aback by your curtness. What does she mean ‘why’? I thought we had a good time tonight, and I want to see her again… “Because ‘here’s to good company’, remember?” He recounts your toast from earlier in the evening, raising his hand to mime a glass in the air for emphasis. He lets his hand fall awkwardly at the sight of your unamused face.

“Good company, huh? Even for a ‘airheaded wannabe’?”

What is she talk… It hits him like a ton of bricks.

It’s you. YOU are the musician girl Mackie and Scott wanted him to meet. YOU are the one playing the set tomorrow, and that’s why you have fans wanting pictures with you. But most of all, YOU had seen his blind judgments of you. FuuuuUUUUUUcccckkk.

“Shit. Listen, I—“

“Have to call it a night and get some rest. Wouldn’t want hot air to be the only thing coming out of my mouth tomorrow. Good night, Chris.” With that, you quickly brush past him, and walk over to say goodbyes to your co-stars. You all share your excitement for starting filming next week, and they wish you well on your show tomorrow.

You make your way to the elevator, but not before you look back for Chris, who’s nowhere to be found. You hoped you’d see his face, and there’d be a look in his eyes that would tell you that tonight wasn’t a waste, that he was as genuine as you’d read him to be and that you’d only read those texts wrong.

But those blue eyes weren’t around for you to drown in. You figured he went somewhere to be pissed about his efforts coming up fruitless. No different than the rest.

Part 3

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans x you #Slow Burn Series

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cutwarmth · 4 years

Text

sometimes you ramble for 4k+ words and it looks like you’ve accomplished nothing but i swear this has unlocked a development path for rui

anyway: tw for discussions of abuse (as a recurring theme), guilt, and rui’s illness as a human

It never got any easier.

Family – family would always be something important to Rui. That was why he swore he could still hear his parents sometimes, he thought, as if they'd never really left. It wasn't like that was a good thing, though. He couldn't hold them. He couldn't run to them at the end of a bad day and cry while his mother stroked his hair and told him it was okay, she loved him, tomorrow would be better.

And they haunted him.

Rui.

He could always hear it echoing in his head, disappointed and horrified, every time he had to find something – someone – to feed on.

Rui.

It would catch him off guard any time it happened, weighing him down until he felt like he had to choose between being allowed to live or being crushed by guilt. If he stopped eating, the guilt would go. But the hunger, gnawing and ever-present, would grow, and grow, and grow.

Rui!

And it hung over him the rare times he let himself sleep, when the weakness from how little he ate and how much this city had taken from him became too much and he couldn't stay awake anymore. He could always imagine them being disappointed in him, causing tears to burn at his eyes and inevitable nightmares to creep into his mind.

“Rui–!”

“I told you I don't like when you do that.”

And that was… strange. The voice saying his name didn't sound like his parents anymore, and there was another voice and it sounded like him but he didn't like the words he was saying or the tone he was saying it with. If this was a dream, it felt too… aware? And as Rui focused, everything shot into existence around him, and he was –

“–huh?”

“Home,” was what his brain told him instinctively, but it wasn't. He would recognize this place anywhere, but home was where Hanako and Himari were, and this was…

This was…

Rui jumped back. His “mother”, eyes wide, let out a startled cry, her arms raising as if to protect herself from something inevitable.

“I-I'm sorry, Rui! I wasn't thinking, I-I promise I’ll–”

Rui just stared. He stared, with no words coming to mind. He knew she was still talking, because the sound of her voice was buzzing in his head, but it didn't feel like they were words. Teetering slightly in his spot, Rui had to force himself to turn around (–and that made the noises stop).

It had to be a dream. Just a strange, realistic dream. A dream that he was too aware of everything happening in, that everything felt too real in. Rui flexed his fingers at his sides, and that felt normal. His breathing felt normal. The scent in the air was normal, a constant sting of the scent of pine and leaves. The grass underneath his feet felt soft.

It was like it was real.

“Ah,” Rui managed, and his voice sounded too quiet and unlike himself. Whatever threat there had been to his words before… he couldn't even recall them, now.

He didn't… want to…

“Please don't tell your father, Rui.”

The voice reached him, this time. Rui glanced over his shoulder, forced himself to, and the fear he could sense radiating off his “mother” made him feel so disgusted he wanted to be sick. Hadn't he liked that, once? He'd craved it, hadn't he?

“I –” Rui’s eyes were as wide as hers were. “– I wasn't. Going to.”

And he hoped that that would be enough. Shouldn't it be? She wasn't going to be hurt anymore, so Rui had done something right. But he could just tell she was tensing up more. She didn't trust him. (Why should she?)

“I'll…” Her voice was so weak, even though she was trying to sound strong. Before she could finish whatever she was going to say to try to get out of his arbitrary punishment (that he wasn’t even going to give, now), though, Rui had turned back around.

“I don't want to hear it.” He… needed to think, anyway. What was going on? Why was he– “You're fine, Emiko. You're doing your best.”

He would have chalked it up to the fact he had said so much more than he normally would have being what made her so audibly gasp behind him as Rui started to leave. It hadn't even crossed his mind that – like this, here – he shouldn't know her name.

They all had their own places they went to for comfort, to pass the time, whatever. Rui hadn't known their reasonings then, and he didn't know them now. Emiko was prone to go where the trees were thinner and rocks sprung out from the grass, his sister would sit in the branches of the taller trees, and Rui would stay perched on his threads in the air, unreachable.

So maybe it made sense that something felt wrong about where he was now.

He hadn't… been able to work anything out. It was at the base of a tree that Rui sat now, knees drawn up and hugged close to his chest, very reachable and very small. He was just… thinking. Trying to figure something out.

But –

– but –

What was there to figure out? What was the point? He couldn’t… really be here, could he? Because if he was back on Natagumo… why would he remember everything? He was dead. This was a point before his death, and yet Rui clearly remembered everything from this point. After this point. If he was really back, he shouldn’t know these things. But he remembered dying, he remembered Spirale – he remembered being there for a year. That couldn’t all just be a dream.

It…

(He couldn’t have made up the pain of remembering his parents, after all. Could he? He couldn’t have made up Hanako, shining as vibrantly as the sun, or Tsuru and her too-kind faith in him, or Mitsuri, or…)

He could hear the whispers. He knew his “family” thought there was something off about him. And there was. There was. He could hear the muttered “Rui’s in such a strange mood” and all the fear that came with it, but he didn’t… care. He would have, once. Him being in a mood meant that he’d hurt them all.

Why had he done that?

Had being a demon really made him drop so far?

He didn’t understand.

Was he really so different?

Rui hugged his knees tighter to his chest.

(He knew the answer to that.)

And… maybe it was a false Natagumo. It likely was. Hadn’t the city proven it could throw anything at them, at everyone in it, and they’d just have to handle what came their way? So this was something… for him, something he had to address. Even if the voices of his fake family sounded real, even if they acted real, they weren’t. Were they? And yet…

… becoming a demon meant losing yourself. If Rui had known that when Muzan had shown up (he was still scared to think the name, but nothing happened; still, he grimaced), he doubted he would have accepted. It was that emptiness that had led to him becoming someone so far from himself, someone who was still recovering and trying to get properly back in touch with all of his emotions. That revelation hurt every time – the fact that Rui might never feel normally again, simply because that part of him wasn’t human anymore, never would be. It was the hollow core of Rui that had punished this fake family so badly.

But that hollow core was still part of who Rui was now. He just… had the lost, sickly little boy who had longed so badly to be strong as part of him again.

And even if all of this wasn’t fake, he…

… he wanted to… try.

Rui was… nothing if not a stupid child, wasn’t he?

In retrospect, absolutely yes.

Because he hadn’t thought things through, other than well, if he was here, he should do better somehow, shouldn’t he? He was given this chance, and even if it wasn’t… real in the grand scheme of things, it was certainly real now. The trees, the grass, his family – they all felt real. The only difference was that Rui… knew, now.

And was that okay? Was that right?

If this was actually somehow something real, would the him here return to the heartless husk he’d once been once he left? That would make everything worse than it had been when he’d arrived here, for whatever reason he had. And yet he… still…

The Rui who remembered, the Rui who knew about his parents and about Spirale and about what happiness could feel like, wanted to try.

Which had led him to – this, to whatever he was doing now. Which, um, appeared to be… well, it was…

Rui was still not very good with expressing himself, even after over a year of experience. That was something difficult to re-learn, especially since becoming a demon had made his natural response to things be to lash out or hurt people, and he didn’t… want to do that anymore, because it hurt him when he reacted so terribly.

He was holding Emiko’s hands tightly in his own, barely even able to make eye contact with her.

And, worse than his awkwardness, he could tell she was shaking.

“Rui…?”

And the face she wore that looked like his wasn't her actual face, and once upon a time Rui had preferred that. Seeing her look like him now just made his heart ache so badly that if he could reach into his chest and guarantee that tearing it out would stop the pain, he'd do it.

He swallowed thickly, past a lump that had risen in his throat, and tried to find the words.

“... I don't… want you to be my mother.”

She tensed up, a horrified cry catching in her throat. Rui loosened his grip enough that she could pull her hands away if she wanted to. Maybe out of fear, she didn't. She just let him hold them, loosely. And he – he understood. Because that made it sound like she'd done something wrong and he was going to kill her for it.

She was still shaking.

“You've,” Rui’s threat was burning. Every part of him hurt. He was trying so hard to keep his voice steady and doing a terrible job of it. “You've been so much better than you think you have. And I've – I am awful. To you. To all of you. I know.”

(Was it worth even trying if he didn’t know how long he was going to be here for?)

And… if it was just a short amount of time… if this was another thing the island was throwing at him, how long could it be? One week? Two? The sun was already close to rising – he’d wasted most of the night curled up against the tree, lost in his own thoughts (it was funny how quickly time could pass when you had decades of nothingnessbehind you) – and… how much progress had he even made?

Emiko was so scared, and still looked like the mother role he had made her take up, and Rui didn’t know how to convince her to drop the act without her believing he was going to hurt her. The burning in his throat had spread in waves up to his eyes and he could feel tears burning there, and Rui knew that he wasn’t –

– to them, he wasn’t someone who cried.

To them, he wasn’t someone who cared at all, a husk.

“I don’t,” Emiko started, her voice small and scared, “believe you.”

The Rui his family knew would have hurt her for that, too, or ordered his fake father to. Rui as he was now slowly let his grip of her hands loosen; his arms fell back down to his sides, and he was silent.

It wasn’t like he could sleep. The only thing that held the nightmares back was Hanako, anyway, and he wasn’t here. Rui didn’t even know if he’d be able to see him again, and that almost hurt more than the fact he was back here being confronted with everything he never wanted to have to handle head-on again. Or maybe it did hurt more?

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know himself.

He wasn’t tired, anyway.

His father and brother weren’t an issue. His brother was basically just as much of a menace as Rui was; Rui couldn’t recall many times he’d ever felt the need to punish him, and his father was mindless enough that he’d listen to whatever Rui had said.

What a sad excuse for a family he’d made himself build.

No wonder nothing had made him feel anything.

None of them had ever been happy.

“So what do you think you’re doing?”

Rui glanced up at where Sanae sat in one of the trees. She – well, he’d seen her look angry before, but this was probably the angriest he’d ever seen her. She’d prided herself in being the one member of the family to never mess up, right? She’d always been silent as everyone else was punished and would do anything to keep herself on his good side.

Rui hated looking at her because the fact she was the one thorn in his side that would never, ever forgive him made him feel like he was being torn into a thousand tiny little pieces.

But he made himself look.

He didn’t answer.

“Do you think any of us are going to fall for it? Whatever you’re doing – we have to do so much to keep you appeased, are you just going to use it all against us when you’re done with this approach to your game?”

She normally wasn’t the type to call him out on these things. She must have been feeling exceedingly brave. But Rui couldn’t… argue with her logic, because from her side of things, that was how it would have looked, wasn’t it? He ducked his head away, and still didn’t speak.

Sanae clicked her tongue, leapt from the tree, and left.

Rui didn’t follow her.

He didn’t want to be here anymore. What was he supposed to achieve? He was only going to hurt them all more – himself, too, but that was… that was… – the longer he tried to change anything.

Rui was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest again, back against a tree. Time was moving so slowly, now. Hadn’t he thought it was going quickly, before? Everything felt like forever and yet like no time at all. His eyes were shut, the burning was still in his throat. If he tried anything, it was wrong. If he didn’t try anything, it was wrong.

This wasn’t fun. This wasn’t home.

He wanted to go back.

… there was the sound of shuffling fabric and a sudden weight against his side. Rui jumped, his chin lifting from its spot against the tops of his knees, eyes reopened to peer at whoever had joined him.

It was Emiko.

She wasn’t –

“... I never told you my name,” she said, quietly. “But you knew it. That’s not… that’s scary, but I – I want –”

– she was herself. And she hadn’t said it, but Rui knew: she wanted to be herself.

And with his mind fully his own again, no matter if this was reality or not, Rui became terribly aware of how young she was. She must have been turned into a demon at such an immature age; she couldn’t have been any older than nine. Far younger than him. Far younger, and he’d forced her into acting like a mother, and any time she’d slipped up…

… she was a child.

Rui slowly raised a hand. Emiko flinched (it made Rui’s heart sink), but she seemed to relax when his hand just came to rest on her head instead. He just let it stay there for a moment, not fully sure what to do with himself, and then… awkwardly, Rui let himself ruffle her hair.

And he – he was smiling. It was small, and there were tears burning at his eyes again, but he was certainly smiling. Emiko stared at him with wide eyes that didn’t look like Rui’s own for once, clearly trying her best to not let her own composure crumble.

“I like you better when you’re yourself,” he said, quietly.

Emiko paused to glance away, but made herself look back. Rui could tell she was trying to process everything, and he wished he could take away all the hurt from her. He wished he’d never agreed to let Muzan turn him into a demon, because it wasn’t just his parents he had destroyed.

He’d hurt so many people.

“I like me better as myself, too,” Emiko finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Demons shouldn’t be in touch with their emotions this much. Rui’s had been shaven down to just anger and emptiness before he had died, and he had no doubt others were the same way. But it was… strange, because even though she was a demon, Emiko still seemed so full of life.

Rui wondered what had happened to her, but knew she wouldn’t remember.

And he knew he couldn’t fix what he’d done to her, but he wanted to do better while he had the chance, and she seemed to at least want to have faith in him. She was too good to have become a demon. Had it been an accident? He wondered.

And by too much faith, he meant she was definitely pushing her limits, because –

– he’d gotten roped into piggybacking her around.

Her arms were wrapped around him and she seemed to be… enjoying herself, to some extent, as much as she could be, and Rui didn’t know if she really believed he was trying to do better or if she just wanted to enjoy the moment while she could, but he was.

Glad?

He thought he was glad.

His brother was laughing about it, his usual snide teasing, this time saying that whenever Rui got out of his slump that they’d all be in trouble.

And from the shadows of the trees, Rui could feel Sanae’s piercing glare.

Emiko was nice as a younger sister. There was a part of Rui that always felt like he was responsible for his own lack of siblings; like if he had been born healthier he would have been less draining on his parents and he would have been able to be an older brother. And even if this was brief, it did feel like progress, even if sometimes he moved a little too suddenly and Emiko still would duck away from him.

She was still herself, and he preferred it that way.

When she’d been in Spirale briefly, Rui had felt how scared she was of him. But he had… felt like he had made at least some attempt to breach that gap between the two of them, to try to humanize her. She might never have believed he was sorry, but he at least wanted to do better. He was still feeling that, now, but…

… it was… better than… the alternative.

What a terrible hole he’d managed to dig himself, that both options were something so awful. Choose the lesser of two evils. The him that had done these things that he wasn’t and was at the same time.

And he kept saying it.

“You’ve been better than you think you have.”

Emiko never quite looked like she believed him.

But she looked at him like she wanted to.

Hanako had told Rui that even if no one else ever did, he would forgive him. Rui didn’t think any of this was worth forgiveness.

(Even if he accepted the part Muzan had played into shaping Rui into the ideal Demon Moon – wasn’t that just trying to shrug the guilt off Rui’s own shoulders? No one had hurt his family but him. No one had made him do that.)

And there was only so much somebody could do in a few days. Because when you have years of hurt that you’ve both caused and received under your belt, that isn’t something you can magically undo. Just as Rui felt like he was paving the way to be able to make progress with Emiko, another obstacle came up.

And that obstacle was Sanae.

Of course he wasn’t going to be able to fix things like magic. But he was beginning to feel like he had a chance, and a second day had passed, and a third night had set in. His time was being spent with Emiko because she seemed like the easiest place to begin – it wasn’t any less hurtful for him to realize that her trauma had manifested in self-doubt and timidness where Sanae’s had manifested in anger, but it made him feel like he had a fighting chance.

He didn’t know why he would be here if not to at least try?

Sanae confronted him again, on that third night.

She had her own face.

“You’re keeping this act up, huh.”

Rui looked at her and rage burned in his chest, but he made himself keep looking. He didn’t want to look away. He didn’t want to be angry about her, seeing her like something unconquerable. She had every reason to hate him and to not trust him. Rui was selfish, ever-stubborn, and Sanae would always be a blot that he couldn’t wash out.

The more he thought about it, maybe he was okay with that. Because that wasn’t the sort of thing that you could just…

… erase?

And he–

“... if I explained it to you, none of you would believe me.” He was alarmed by how unlike himself his voice sounded. Rui wanted something to do with his hands but he didn’t want to give in to what everyone thought he would be. He flexed his fingers instead, but he wanted to summon his threads. His threads meant pain, and he… didn’t… want that.

Rui didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

“Try.” Sanae’s voice was harsher than her already-piercing gaze. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and Rui could have applauded her bravery. He wouldn’t have wanted to stand up to the person he’d been, either.

So he just shook his head.

“What do you think this is going to achieve, then?”

“I don’t know.” That was… unfortunately the truth. It wasn’t like it could undo anything. If this was real, he’d return to the way he was for them, and return to Spirale for him, and everything would be back where it began. And if it wasn’t real – then it wasn’t as if it would change anything, anyway. “But I want to try.”

And the Rui of a year ago might not have wanted to. The Rui before death would definitely have not wanted to.

He made himself look at Sanae, and he made himself smile.

Her upper lip curled in on itself.

“Try what? We all agreed to this because you made us. We walk on glass around you, and you just change your mind?”

Oh. Her voice was sounding more distant?

Rui reached a hand out. Sanae slapped it away.

He stared.

“This isn’t the sort of thing you can come back from, Rui. And if you think you can carry ‘Mother’ around and make that fix everything you’ve done–”

His head was hurting. She was right, but everything really hurt.

“I–”

“Trapping us in this and then acting pitiful and like you’ve changed your mind? We’re demons! You made us have to do this! You think you can just–”

Why couldn’t he make sense of what she was saying anymore? Rui reached his hand back out but Sanae looked like she was being muddied by water, and even though he tried to grab hold of her he never reached. She was definitely still talking, and Rui thought he might be crying, because she –

– of course, of course, he –

– that was always part of him that would –

(He couldn’t just fix it, he couldn’t just…)

–Sanae had morphed into colours that slowly faded to grey, and the tears were burning at Rui’s eyes and a lump was burning in his throat again and he… he was…

There was a house in front of him, and it was his, the house he’d made in Spirale. The trees of Natagumo weren’t around him anymore. He could still feel his fingers brushing against Sanae’s hand but Rui was on the floor, his knees given way, and everything ached.

What was…

… the point?

He wanted to fix it.

Why –

– why wasn’t he given enough time to…?–

#emiko is the name i'm using for spi/dermom and sanae is spi/dersis bc when we had them in isola they were those names #isola challenge #i'm like shy to post this but i'm simply going to take the L i guess #i think basically i'm saying please don't perceive this

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fanatic-scribe · 5 years

Text

Beep Beep Richie (NSFW)

Fandom: IT Chapter 2 (2019)

Word Count: 5,376

Ao3: Here

Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier

Pairing: Reddie

Warning/Tags: Explicit sexual content. Anal Sex. Powerbottom Eddie. Cock Rings. Edging. Orgasm denial. Aftercare

A/N: Eddie has tattoos and Richie has nipple piercings, you can’t change my mind.

Summary:

“Eddie wait.” He said a bit too eagerly.

“Mmm.” Eddie seemed to realize this and pressed his leg firmer into Richie’s clothed erection, “Is there something you wanna say, Richie?” The snark was almost dripping off his words and he grinned.

“I uhh well umm.” Richie’s cheeks are on fire now.

“Spit it out,” Eddie emphasized his words by rubbing his thigh to Richie who in turn ground down on it.

“Fuck Eddie.”

Alternative Title: Richie's motor mouth and disobedience leave Eddie with no other choice but to try and silence the man himself.

Richie could sense that something was off with Eddie. He was never very good at reading people but Eddie was different, spending his entire childhood trying to read his friend for signs of shared feelings does that to you. Eddie hadn’t said much of anything today and even though he didn’t talk as much as Richie he would always at least retort in their playful banter. That was weird. As they walked down the hotel hallway in silence Richie wondered what he did to make Eddie angry with him.

He wondered if the dinner with his manager had made Eddie feel awkward. Richie did throw several jokes Eddie’s way with only a few looks thrown back, his manager almost ignored Eddie entirely. Maybe Eddie was upset at being left out while Richie meets with fans, even though Eddie choose to be on the sidelines. Maybe one of Richie’s jokes went a little too far for Eddie. Or maybe Eddie was just realizing that he hated touring with Richie and was getting fed up with it.

Either way, Richie’s mind was spirling with so much anxiety that he was starting to go crazy. He was starting to think he should have an actual serious talk with Eddie to see why he was being so aloof. That only made his anxiety flare up more. The silence stretched as long as this hallway, Richie hated silence.

Had the hallway always been this long?

When they finally made it to their door Richie can’t tell if he is relieved or terrified, he had a hard time fishing the key card out of his pocket and into the door. A red light flashed the first few times before the door finally unlocked. “Hey Eddie,” Richie tried not to let his voice quiver as he opened the door, “you’ve been acting kinda-”

Before Richie could finish his question Eddie was pushing past him and grabbing the collar of his eye bleeding shirt and yanking him into the room. Before the door could even close Eddie had pulled Richie into a heated kiss, his hands fisted tightly at the shirt collar.

Eddie ran his tongue over Richie’s closed lips asking for entrance, which Richie was far too stunned to respond to. His brain had gone to heavy fog, one second he was spirling with anxiety and now Eddie was trying to devour his lips. Before Richie can even wrap his head around what was happening Eddie was roughly shoving him into the door. Richie had not even noticed the door closing behind them.

As Richie’s back slammed against the door he gasped against Eddie’s lips. Eddie took the opportunity to invade Richie’s mouth, licking the inside of his cheek and Richie became more confused and growing hornier with each passing second. Deciding to give in Richie closes his eyes and leans into the kiss, letting his tongue move with Eddie’s inside his mouth.

Richie is so lost in the kiss he doesn’t register Eddie’s hands reach up to tangle in his curly hair. That is until the shorter man’s grip tightens, tugging just hard enough that Richie gasps in surprise, ending with a low groan deep in his throat. Eddie smiles against his lips in his small victory.

Finally breaking the full daze Richie returns the kiss with vigor, running his tongue inside Eddie’s mouth feeling every inch of him. The hand in his hair loosens and moves to caress down his cheek and jaw pulling a content hum from the taller man. Just when Richie was fully involved and felt the heat building in his stomach Eddie pulled away. Richie attempted to follow his lips only to have a hand on his chest stop him. He opened his eyes, still not entirely sure when he had closed them.

A quiet whine escaped his lips as he tries to follow Eddie as his lips came just slightly out of reach, still feeling the heat of his breath. As Richie tried to get closer he felt Eddie’s left hand rest against his neck, the thumb lightly running over his Adam’s apple, applying just the slightest bit of pressure to keep Richie in place on the wall. One of Richie’s hands leaving the wall in favor to grab onto the other’s shoulder in an attempt to keep his shaking legs from giving out.

Richie is a little dizzy and growing needier every second Eddie ghosts his lips over Richie’s. He tries to ground himself by looking into Eddie’s dark brown eyes but he only gets a second to look before his own roll back in his head with a deep moan as Eddie rubbed his thigh against Richie’s crotch. With a smirk Eddie lurches forward to press more kisses to his neck and jaw, moving up to nip lightly at his jugular before sucking at the same spot. Richie wonders if it’s going to leave a hickey for all of one second before Eddie rubbed his thigh against him again making Richie moan and thrust into the feeling.

Richie was so lost in the feeling he had almost forgotten that only a few minutes ago he was freaking out about Eddie being upset.

Almost.

The memory of his spiral was still fresh on his nerves and as much as he wanted to, Richie couldn’t seem to shake that feeling. Against his better judgment, he decided to speak up. “Eds,” another bite to his neck, “shit, oh fuck. E-ddie I need to-” Another grind into his growing erection almost made his knees buckle, “Oh god damn. Spaghetti wait! ”

That’s what does it. Eddie never really liked that nickname so he knew it would get his attention fast. Eddie pulled away, licking over the spot as he goes, and looks at Richie his eyes just slightly unfocused and dark. He doesn’t seem too pleased with that name.

“What is it Richie?” he asked, his voice is rough and husky with arousal. All movement stopped and Eddie loosened his grip on Richie’s shirt, preparing to walk away if need be. It finally dawns on Richie that Eddie stopped not because of the nickname but because Richie asked him to.

“Shit, I just... I am one hundred percent on this crazy makeout session. I mean you don’t really ever just pounce on me like a half starved lion finally finding a gazelle. I mean you probably already did a number on-”

“Richie.”

“Right I’m rambling. It’s just You seemed super off today. I thought you may have been mad? But like I don’t think you're mad now. Unless this is some kind of way to get the anger out. I mean to each their own but I would rather we didn’t do anything if you are angry. So uhhh, are you mad at me?”

Eddie looks a little surprised, then he broke out into a smile and started to laugh. “Oh my god, Richie.” He tried to calm his laughter as Richie’s cheeks grew hot, “Of course I’m not angry at you, dip shit. Well, I guess maybe a little. We were out all day and flirting and teasing then when other people showed up you kept going. You kept getting close running your hands up my back, and at dinner, you kept touching my thigh under the table. It took everything I had just to stay calm for the rest of the day.”

“Wait,” Richie shook his head and swallowing a lump in his throat, ”you were acting off because I turned you on too much?”

Eddie seemed to regain some composure. “Yes. I figured you knew what you were doing otherwise you wouldn’t have kept it up. I figured you were just trying to be a brat and push me to the edge by keeping up your continuous talking. You didn’t know did you?”

“...No?” Richie said as more of a question than an actual response.

“Shit. I thought so you dense fuck.” Eddie replayed sounded slightly dejected, “Really I should have known you do normally just say shit all the time for no reason other than to say it.” Eddie stayed where he was but started to pull his leg out from between Richie’s thighs. Richie, however, realized that he was now very much aroused and almost desperately didn’t want Eddie to take his leg away.

“Eddie wait.” He said a bit too eagerly.

“I uhh well umm.” Richie’s cheeks are on fire now.

“Spit it out,” Eddie emphasized his words by rubbing his thigh to Richie who in turn ground down on it.

“Fuck Eddie.” Richie looked down at Eddie, his eyes were dark and predatory. Richie had hoped Eddie would have gotten the hint but it seems like Richie would have to use his words. “Your little makeout ambush has gotten me pretty stiff in the jeans so if you want to have a god old fashion dong rodeo I’d be fucking happy about it.”

“Stop me if it’s too much.” Eddie purrs as he pulls Richie away from the door and turns him around before smashing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Richie is moaning again, missing the friction against his dick but loving the roughness of their heated makeout. His knees almost buckle beneath him as Eddie slowly walks him backward, pulling away to kiss across Richie’s face to graze his earlobe with his teeth.

Eddie’s one hand is working under the hem of Richie’s shirt as the other has a grip on the collar. Warm, soft fingers caressing along Richie’s stomach, he groans as he feels dull nails scratching down his sides only to be soothed by light tender touches.

As Richie babbles about how amazing this is he feels Eddie pull away, he barely has time to whine before his shirt is being lifted over his head, and he’s pushed even further back. When Richie’s knees hit the bed there is a few seconds were he panics as he goes down, falling flat on his back against the plush hotel mattress. His glasses going crooked on his face from the fall.

He watched in an aroused daze, adjusting his glasses, as Eddie looked down at him, a dark arousal clouding his normally tender eyes. In one quick movement, he took off his shirt and discarded it with Richies on the floor as he put his knee on the bed right under Richie’s growing erection. Holy shit Richie still couldn’t get over Eddie’s body, under all those simple dad clothes no one would have suspected how toned Eddie was. And with all the tattoos framing him so perfectly, Richie keened just at the sight or Eddie over him.

He will never get used to those tattoos.

Gently Eddie leaves feather light touches up Richie’s torso and through the slight bushel of hair on his chest. While one hand continued to coax small sounds and praising words out of Richie, the other reached up to lightly run his hand across Richie’s throat without putting pressure on it. Richie closed his eyes for a moment only to feel Eddie leave his throat and roughly grabbed his hair, tilting his head back and to the side forcing his eyes open in surprise. Eddie leaned in close to Richie’s ear, “Do not close your eyes.” he commanded as grazed his teeth over Richie’s ear lobe before biting at his neck.

“Yes, sir. Your wish is my command. How could I say no while you are being so bossy too? I love it when you’re bossy Eds, love it when-” Richie’s rambling was interrupted by his moan from another firm tug at his hair. He worked hard to keep his eyes open.

“Shut up Richie.” Richie promptly shut up.

While Eddie’s hands moved to caress down Richie’s body he left open mouth kisses and nibbles along Richie’s jaw, down his neck, and across his collarbone. His one hand smoothing over his skin back up while the other reached down to palm at his jean covered bulge. Richie rolled his hips into Eddie’s hand desperate for more, even though he was growing more and more uncomfortable in those jeans. Why were his jeans too tight?

Eddie kissed Richie’s chest before taking a nipple into his mouth his teeth lightly grazing the skin as he played with the silver jewelry there and sucked on it. His hand not rubbing mercilessly on Richie’s dick moved up to rub and pinch over the other nipple, playing lightly with the bar across that nipple like is tongue and teeth did with the other. Richie instinctively arched his back desperately, moaning and slightly overwhelmed at the sensation, his hands reaching to run through Eddie’s hair and to grip frantically at the pillow by his head. Working hard to keep his eyes from closing again.

Richie was only vaguely aware of the words spilling from his mouth unfiltered. Quick “so good” and “god, Eds” and “fuck yeah that’s right, don’t stop whatever you are doing. Love it when you’re bossy and take what you want Eds. Fuckin take me all you want Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Jesus Richie you’re lucky I don’t have a gag to shut that mouth of yours for good.” Richie rolled his hips into Eddie’s hand at the thought of being silenced with a ball gag.

As Eddie’s mouth travels lower down Richie’s body, moves away from Richie’s mouth. He used both hands to quickly unfasten the button and zipper and yanked his pants and underwear down, throwing the clothes to the ground with their shirts. Like clockwork, teasing words spill from Richie’s mouth, “Hell yeah, finally. Shit, they were getting so uncomfortable. You sure you don’t want to fold them and the shirt? You are a neat freak you sure you can handle a few wri-,” Richie was interrupted with his own high pitched moan as Eddie took his dick into his mouth, teeth grazing just slightly hard as Eddie’ slowly pulled his head back up.

He sucks down Richie’s cock as far as his throat will let him, fisting the length of the dick that he can’t fit into his mouth and gripping tightly to Richie’s thighs. He swipes his tongue from the base to top, running the tip of his tongue over the slit only to bob his head back down and hollow his cheeks with deep suction. Richie grabbed at the roots of his hair and bucked his hips into Eddie’s hot mouth. His glasses skewed and resting almost at his forehead from rolling his head back. Richie is so lost in the feeling he doesn’t even realize he’s chattering again, “It feels so good, so good, fuck yes, and fuuuuuuck Eds. I’m close, I’m so close.” Then Eddie pulls off his dick with a pop and sits upon his knees. Richie lifts his head to look at him, heavy breathing and red faced he realigns his glasses, “Eds come on!” He whines, “I was so close, that’s not fair you can’t just blue ball me like-”

“Shhhhhh.” Richie stops talking and chews on his lip instead, trying to keep out the needy whines. Eddie moves to sit on the edge of the bed, he grabs Richie by the hair again and leads him off the bed on his knees. Eddie gently goes to remove Richie’s glasses only for him to lean away.

“I want them to stay on.” Richie says quickly, he breath slightly labored, “I-I want to see you.” Eddie smiles at this and places a kiss at the top of his head.

“You better make it a show worth watching.” He purrs into Richie’s hair before leaning back on his hands, “Show me your mouth is good for something.” Richie licks his lips with anticipation and reaches up to undo Eddie’s pants quickly trying to work the button and zipper open. It took a few seconds longer than it should because of his urgency but soon Richie is pulling off Eddie’s pants and underwear freeing his restrained cock.

Eddie’s cock is out, standing at attention only a few inches away from Richie's face. Richie licked his lips and moved forward to lick a long slow stripe up Eddie’s cock with the flat of his tongue. As he moved Eddie grabbed Richie by the roots of his hair with one hand while the other holds his balance. Working his tongue over the slit of Eddie’s cock Richie slowly took in the head and sucked lightly before taking more into his mouth and he bobs up and down.

As Richie slowly bobs his head taking more in with every downstroke he revels in the feeling of it fills his mouth and throbbing against his tongue. Eddie fist in his hair with a soft moan anchoring Richie into his spot, not that he would willingly leave. Richie hollows his cheeks and sucks his cock in and out of his mouth, relaxing his gag reflex to take Eddie all the way to the back of his throat. Eddie’s hands tighten in the black curls as he groans at the feeling, Richie swallows around his dick and hums appreciatively sending low vibrations over Eddie’s cock. With each bob Richie is going deeper and deeper until his nose is brushing against Eddie’s shaved pubic area, the bobs getting faster and rougher.

Richie falls into a rhythm, bobbing, sucking and licking as Eddie leans his head back and throws a leg over Richie’s shoulder. Richie watching Eddie with slightly teary eyes as he sucked harder trying to swallow every bit of precum and spit. Richie’s cock is still rock hard and unattended as he sucks off his lover, he reaches on hand down hoping to be able to stroke himself to completion.

“D-don’t even think about touching yourself, Tozier,” Richie whines around Eddie’s cock pulling out a moan. Even red faced and stumbling over words Richie is still so weak for Eddie’s commands, he moves his hands away and instead reaches up to hold onto Eddie’s thighs.

It didn’t take long for Richie to figure out the signs of Eddie is about to cum, and as Richie glanced his eyes up from his work he saw the signs plain as day. Eddie’s eyes were closed shut, breathing hard past moans, and his free hand was tangled in his own hair. His hips had already started to roll into Richie’s mouth with every bob down, Eddie may not talk much when having sex but Richie knows how to read him. Determination fueled Richie as he sucked harder and bobbed his head even faster, moving his tongue around Eddie’s cock as much as he could. Eddie was moaning and gasping much more as his hand tightened even more in Richie’s and his own hair. With Eddie’s eyes being shut he thought there was no harm in giving his own neglected cock a few strokes.

Richie could hardly hear Eddie’s cursed filled warning over the blood rushing in his ears before he felt hot cum in the back of his throat. With Eddie’s dick still deep in his mouth Richie swallowed as much as he could milking Eddie for all he had. Eddie yanks his head off him, looking down at him with lust filled eyes. Eddie runs one hand under Richie’s chin and lifting his face to lean forward and pressing a gentle kiss to Richie’s swollen lips. Richie moans in the kiss.

“Oh Richie,” Eddie says against his lips, “didn’t I tell you not to touch your dick?” Richie’s eyes widen as he realized he had still been stroking himself after Eddie had told him not to.

“Eds I didn’t- Well I mean I meant to but- I’m sorry Eds I just needed something a-and you can’t expect me to just not jack off while you are sounding and looking so hot I mean-” Richie gasps in pain as Eddie pulls tightly against his hair.

“Stop talking.” Richie looks up at Eddie with begging eyes hoping that whatever punishment is next won’t be terrible. “On the bed,” Eddie orders sternly. “I’m going to ride you.” Richie’s eyes widen, perhaps Eddie was merciful.

Richie doesn’t think he has ever moved that fast in his life. Like a bat out of hell, Richie is off the floor and laying on his back in the bed faster than he can say ‘yes, sir’. Eddie chuckles at his eagerness before settling back on top of him. Eddie kissed back down Richie’s neck, sucking a line of wet bruises downwards before biting at the junction of his neck and shoulders. Richie wondered briefly if he had any high collar shirts to wear for his show tomorrow night or if he should just add a hickey joke to his routine, before Eddie’s thigh brushed against his very sensitive cock.

Richie is extremely hard right now and the way Eddie brushing against him is making Richie thrust into his thigh like a horny teenager. Eddie’s still busy leaving what must be fairly good sized hickies before moving his leg away depriving Richie of any friction.

“Ffff-fuck, Eddie pl-please, I’m dying over here, can I please-” Eddie kisses him roughly, all tongue and teeth, before pulling away.

“After that stunt, you pulled earlier I don’t think you are in the position to beg for anything.” Richie gulps, “Don’t move.” Eddie gets up off the bed to walk over to his bag. The few seconds that Eddie is gone has Richie cold and whimpering on the bed. Worried about making any noise that even resembles the English language, hoping to still get out of this without major punishment

Eddie crawled back onto the bed coaxing Richie to move back until his back was against the headboard, straddling Richie who looked at him intently. Eddie held up the bottle of lube before popping off the cap and pouring a healthy amount onto his fingers. Richie gulped in anticipation. Eddie reached around and slowly slid two fingers past his rim, using Richie to lean his head against as he worked his fingers in and out of himself.

Richie couldn't help but run his hands over every inch of Eddie he could reach. Up and down his thighs, back and arms, fingers tangling in Eddie’s hair and he watched Eddie fuck himself on his fingers. The sight and sound of Eddie gasping on top of him were almost enough to make him cum right there.

When Eddie removed his fingers from his ass he reached around to grab a hold of the base of Richie’s cock giving it a few slow pumps. Richie’s eyes rolled back into his head and he bucked into the feeling fully willing to get lost in it. That is before he realizes that Eddie was letting go of his shoulder and leaning back and fumbling with something around Richie’s cock. Eddie clips it around the base of Richie’s dick, and it immediately feels constricting. Richie whines at the realization that he’s not going to cum anytime soon.

It was a cock ring.

Where did he get a cock ring?

Why does he have a cock ring?

“This ok?” Eddie asks, but by the tone of his voice Richie can tell it’s not really a question, “I mean you want to touch your cock so badly,” Eddie leads the tip of Richie’s cock to his ass. “I’ll give it to you, but you will cum when I say you can cum. You ok with that?” Despite it being rhetorical question Richie still decides to dig himself a deeper grave and answers.

“I’m good. I’m fine. Totally fine. Not like I was already about to cum and now I fuckin can’t. Gonna be-” Eddie sank onto Richie’s cock with a groan and Richie’s head hit the headboard with a thud. A silent scream came from his gaped mouth as he white knuckled the comforter of the bed.

Eddie took no time to adjust giving a few experimental grinds of his hips and then pulling off to thrust back down. He repeated the rhythm, setting one that was harsh and fast and just took much for Richie’s overstimulated cock to handle.

Eddie rolled his body and ground his ass down was perfect in the pure sense of the word. Richie could see Eddie’s cock achingly hard and strain against his stomach. Richie bit his lip and moaned at just the sight, grinding his hips up to meet Eddie’s downwards thrusts as best he could with his restricted cock. He loosened his grip on the sheets to reach a shaky hand between them and stroked Eddie’s cock. The strokes were erratic and uneasy because of Richie’s growing desperation but the stroked nonetheless.

“Fuck, Richie, you don’t even know how fucking gorgeous you look.” Eddie moaned, leaning forward to kiss along his face and neck, “I bet you want to cum so badly don’t you? I’ve already edged you this much.” Richie whimpered as a response, all words lost in his haze of need. “What the famous Trashmouth is speechless? So this is what it takes to shut you up? A tight cock ring and a few minutes of edge play?” Eddie pulled at Richie’s hair to get a better angle on his neck, “I’ll have to call the presses about this discovery.” Richie could feel his orgasm rising more and more only to be stopped by the cock ring, it was too much for him to handle. “And to think I wouldn’t even have put the cock ring on you if you had just not touched yourself. You just hand to be a brat didn’t you?” All Richie had in him was to moan in response and involuntarily thrust his hips even harder, something that made the heat inside of Eddie swell. With one well times trust to match Eddie’s grind down Richie had hit Eddie’s prostate causing the smaller man to lean back and moan loudly. “F-fuck!” Eddie cried out, pausing for a second to grind his hips down in little circles.

If Richie wasn’t so painfully desperate he would have considered that a victory, but right now he was losing big as Eddie went back to riding him like he was dying for it. Meanwhile, Richie felt like he was dying even more so than before. Desperate tears started to prick at the back of his eyes.

There was so much heat inside of Richie, so much arousal that he could barely contain it. He rolled his hips up as hard as he could to try and get any kind of relief, but it only left him more aroused and desperate. Eddie only encouraged him to move faster, while they both moaned loudly.

“Oh, God, Rich, I’m close.” Eddie panted, squeezing his eyes shut. He let out a few open mouthed breaths, his head lolled back. On instinct Richie pumped Eddie’s sensitive dick harder wanting to feel him ride out his orgasm, this pushed Eddie over the edge, “Fuck, I’m gonna-” And that was all that was said before Eddie let out a long moan of, a small bit of cum pulsing onto their stomach’s as his hips slowly stuttered.

Eddie was leaning against Richie’s shoulder gulping in breaths greedily, his cock still buried and desperate deep inside Eddie. Desperately, Richie whines out with tears in on his cheeks, “Please, E-Eds, just lemme-” but before he can even finish, Eddie is pulling Richie out of himself tantalizingly slow. Richie whimpers loudly as Eddie slides off him and laying to Richie’s side.

Shaky but desperate, Richie turns to see Eddie watching him and running a hand closer and closer to his abused cock. Richie can hardly register himself begging, “Eds oh god, please, fuck. What do you want? I’ll fucking do anything just let me cum.” At this point, desperate tears are rolling down Richie’s face as Eddie’s finger feather touch at the base of Richie’s dick just over the cock ring.

Almost instantly his grips Richie tightly and start pumping his cock at a terribly fast pace. Richie grabs at Eddie’s arm and the sheets, moans, and cries falling from his mouth like a symphony. The fucking cock ring is still on his dick and the intensity is well beyond overwhelming, it’s starting to hurt. The words pouring out of Richie's mouth, “E-Eddie, please! Oh, f-fuck stop! Stop it hurts. Just let me cum, please. J-just let me cum!”

“Which is it, Richie?” His pace slows and that’s almost worse than when he was moving too quickly, “Is it stop or let you cum?” Eddie was waiting to see if Richie would use the safe word, his hand almost stops to let Richie give his answer. Before Eddie can stop his hand Richie is blurting out an apology and begging for him to keep going. No safe word tonight, so he picks up the pace and watches as Richie bucks wildly into his hand not knowing if he should follow the hand or try to back away. Eddie runs his finger lightly through Richie’s hair and kisses at his tear-stained cheeks.

Eddie jerks Richie for what feels like forever, driving Richie half mad as he begs until his sounds stop being coherent words. Richie can feel the heat overflowing inside him, he wants to cum so fucking bad but Eddie won’t let him. Richie can feel the hot tears on his face as Eddie kisses them away, he’s sobbing with every raspy breath.

Finally, Eddie reaches up to undo the cock ring, “Cum for me baby.” Eddie squeezes and gives one final pump before undoing the cock ring. As soon as the pressure around his cock is gone, Richie screams out and cums all over himself and Eddie. His orgasm comes in waves, each one crashing with more intensity than the last and he can’t help but thrust deeper into Eddie’s hand as his eyes roll back into his head. He cums harder than he ever has before. As he finally starts to come down from his orgasm he can vaguely hear Eddie saying something and pressing a tender kiss to his lips before he slowly closes his eyes.

When Richie opens his eyes again his head is laying in Eddie’s lap and Eddie is already in his pajama bottoms. Richie can feel Eddie wiping him down with a warm, damp towel while his other hand ran soothingly in Richie’s hair, his glasses already resting neatly on the nightstand next to a glass of water.

Richie really would like that water.

Richie’s entire body aches and he shifts with a groan. Eddie notices this and leans forward to press a soft kiss to Richie’s forehead, “You did so good Richie. I love you so much.” he leans back and caresses Richie’s cheek, “That wasn’t too much for you right?” Richie just smiles and shakes his head.

“It was amazing Eds. Really just- wow I’ve never cum that hard before in my life.” He feels Eddie lay soft kisses over Richie’s cheek, saying gentle words of praise as he finished wiping him down. Eddie moves away for a moment and hands Richie the glass of water on the nightstand that he greedily swallows, “Do you want to wash up or do you want to sleep?”

“If you're giving me the option then I assume you already cleaned me off with that towel and some soap like the clean freak you are so I would like to sleep.” Richie hears a chuckle from Eddie as he finishes the water and puts the empty glass on the nightstand. Eddie moves him further onto the bed and tucks him in before leaving to discard the town. As Richie settles into his sleeping position Eddie collects their clothes and fold them neatly before setting them down on a stray chair. “Told ya. Neat freak.” Richie says with sleep creeping upon him.

With a small chuckle Eddie settles into the bed and pulls up close to Richie, they wrap their arms around each other. Eddie runs soothing circles of Richies back as he drifts off, “You really don’t ever shut up do you?”

#reddie #reddie smut #IT #it chapter 2 #Eddie Kaspbrak #Richie Tozier #Eddie/Richie

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dreamiehrs · 5 years

Text

jealousy issues ➛ h.rj

genre: jealous!renjun, fluff, maybe a lil angst, best friends to lovers, you’re oblivious and renjun’s annoyed lmao, high school au, bestfriend!renjun

pairing: renjun x you

requested: yes

note: hihi! this was requested by this beautiful anon! I actually found this request pretty interesting bc I had to think of how renjun would be jealous... so I hope you enjoy it! ty for requesting :) (gif credit: @renjunhuang)

you and renjun have been besties since... god knows when

just kidding, you and him have counted the years and it’s been around six years

aka since sixth grade!! you two met in math class when the teacher put you beside each other

that was probably her worst decision, to be honest... his witty remarks, which you always tended to bounce back and forth with him about, left the teacher in an annoyed mode the rest of the day

you guys were good students, though. so she wasn’t *that* annoyed, you know?

naturally, you guys started to learn more about each other and figured out you guys like a lot of the same stuff!! this led up to you guys exchanging numbers and hanging out almost every other weekend

your hangouts with renjun were something you always looked forward to

he never failed to make you laugh with his clever words and his sense of humor

as the two of you got older and went into high school... it seemed like everything had changed between you two

obviously, you two were still besties and nothing would change that, but as the two of you grew up together, sometimes you would find yourself thinking that renjun has... dare you say... gotten attractive over the years?

his features had become more molded and he’s started dressing more... impressively... the latter probably because you told him what style of clothing you liked guys to wear

you would mentally smack yourself whenever you thought of him that way, though. you shouldn’t be thinking of one of your best friends like that, right?

you would have your occasional crushes throughout high school, and he would, too

however, your flirting skills were at an all-time low, so you would never act on your crushes. you would just wait for them to pass by and not really be phased by it

renjun would tease you non-stop about your crush (if you had one at the time)... but at some points during you two’s convo he would seem... kind of stormy

like one day, during sophomore year, you plopped down in front of him at your lunch table

“how is my wonderful best friend doing today?” you asked as you took a bite of your sandwich

“terrible, now that you’re here.” he would bite back, but you were unphased as you stole one of his grapes

“oh shush, you know you love me.” you wiggled his eyebrows at him and he just gave you a look of disgust (in a loving way of course)

you then went on your rant about how much you admired upperclassman na jaemin, about how kind and caring he was, all that stuff

renjun’s mood and his smile quickly had fallen after he heard that boy’s name fall from your mouth

you didn’t seem to notice as you kept rambling, but you did spot his clenched fist which rested on the lunch table

“injunnie, you okay?”

his nickname snapped him out of his trance as he stood up and gathered his things

you just looked up at him, your eyebrows knotted in confusion

“where are you going?”

“you know, y/n, if you want to gush about your crush, how about you do it to someone else, alright?”

after his outburst, he quickly strode away from you and left you sitting at the lunch table, all alone

what just happened?

after you got home after school today you thought a little bit before hearing your phone chime

you unlocked it to see a text from renjun

injunnieヾ(❛ε❛“)ʃ: I’m sorry for my little... outburst earlier today. it was a really stressful day for me and I ended up letting it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that

you: ...it’s okay. promise you won’t get angry when I mention jaemin?

injunnieヾ(❛ε❛“) ʃ: I’ll try not to

you were still concerned after you guys cleared everything up... something just didn’t... sit well with you... ya know?

it took all of your brain to agree on this, but you had decided to try to stop liking jaemin

you didn’t want to lose your friendship with renjun, so it would be for the best, right?

you still had crushes after this, though. in junior year you were infatuated with the school’s star wrestler, lee jeno

renjun stayed his usual protective self and would nag you every five seconds about your crushes... at one point he said something along the lines of “you’re too good for them.”

“don’t flatter me, injunnie,” you replied and brushed the warm feeling in your chest away by pinching his cheek instead “what happened to my impolite friend, hmm?”

he almost decked you after this but someone’s presence at the end of your table made him decide not to

your cheeks went bright red and you quickly removed your hand from renjun’s cheek. he just scoffed and you sent him a pointed look afterward

you tried to telepathically send him a distress signal as jeno got closer to you two with every passing moment, but you knew you were toast when jeno finally sat next to you

“hi, y/n. so... I have a wrestling tournament tonight, and I was wondering if you were interested in coming to watch me.”

you could feel renjun’s eyes watching you intently but you were too excited with jeno sitting next to you “it depends on if I’m busy, but more than likely, I’ll be able to go.”

“okay, great. see you there.” he gets up excitedly and acknowledges renjun before striding back to his table

you lie your head on the lunch table, peering up at renjun “what am I gonna do, injunnie?”

“what do you mean ‘what am I gonna do?’ go see him tonight, dummy.”

“...injunnie you’re acting strange. do you have a fever or something?” you put your palm up to his forehead and surprisingly, he lets you

a small, but sad smile covers his face and you feel a pang in your heart

“just trying to get over someon- I mean, something.”

your heart felt heavy the rest of the day after renjun told you that

something was deeply wrong, and you were going to figure out what that ‘something’ was

you dialed jeno’s number and informed him that you weren’t able to go. his goodbye sounded more upset than you had expected, but you didn’t let it get to you as you texted renjun

you: meet me at my house in twenty. we’re having a well-needed movie night tonight

injunnieヾ(❛ε❛“) ʃ: what about jeno?

you: I canceled on him

injunnieヾ(❛ε❛“) ʃ: oh

you: yeah

you: pick up snacks nerd!!

injunnieヾ(❛ε❛“) ʃ: you really wanna be smacked tonight, huh?

you took no time getting in setting up the living room for movie night

cue the tons of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals you tossed on the couch in the living room

yes, you two still made pillow forts... yes, they were very comfortable...

while you were hitting the ‘on’ button for the tv, you heard three knocks on the door, which meant renjun was here

you quickly opened the door and headed back to decorating the couch, leaving him standing in the doorway

“psst! yn! a little help here?”

you hadn’t noticed that he had four full bags of snacks in both of his arms

“sorry buddy, can’t you see I’m busy over here?” you teased and you heard him huff before closing the door with his back

he set down the bags of snacks near the pillow fort you had constructed before meandering over to you

you can feel his eyes on you and you look up at him “what?”

“why did you cancel on jeno?”

“let’s discuss this in our cozy pillow fort, hm?” you lightly take hold of his hand and lead him into the pillow fort, which is beautifully decorated by yours truly :)

you take a deep breath before starting: “okay, so I canceled on jeno because I knew something was up with you. every time I would mention my crush, during the past and now, you always seem to get upset afterward.”

he stays silent, and you take both of his hands in yours in an attempt to get an answer out of him

“is it something that I did? was I being too dense again? please, just tell me.”

your heart’s beating a mile a minute with how anxious you are and renjun doesn’t help slow it down when he responds with: “I love you, y/n.”

after those four words left his mouth, you were now awfully aware of all the physical contact you were making with him, but you didn’t dare move your hands from his “w-what?”

“I’m in love with you, y/n,” he repeated, out of breath this time “I’ve been in love with you since freshman year, even though you were really cringy in that year.”

you giggled and lightly kicked his shin before he continued: “then when you started talking about all these crushes you’ve had I started getting... jealous. I couldn’t help myself sometimes, and it didn’t help that you went on and on about them...”

“...I didn’t say anything about your crushes...”

“that’s because the only person I’ve had a crush on is you.”

“...oh.”

the air starts to become awkward and you start internally freaking out

“you know what? just forget everything I just said. I-”

“injunnie, no. the truth is, I like you too.”

you can see from his facial expression that he’s trying to process this new information “wait, what about your past crushes, and your crush now?”

“jaemin was an actual crush of mine. I did have an interest in jeno, but you being jealous diverted my attention from the said boy. you’ve been giving me butterflies in my stomach since last year, but I’ve been suppressing my feelings in fear of ruining our friendship.”

“wow, we’re really both fools, huh?” you swat the top of renjun’s head “okay, okay, I’m joking.”

“after all that emotional drama, let’s go binge-watch movies now!” you drag him out of the pillow fort and onto the couch, where you two laid on top of the other as you turned the tv on

while you were finding a movie to watch, renjun pressed a soft kiss to the side of your cheek before whispering: “I love you, y/n.”

you felt your heart melt before mumbling back: “love you too, injunnie.”

464 notes · View notes

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 5 years

Text

right where you belong

characters: spencer reid x reader, lila archer, aaron hotchner, derek morgan

word count: 2,326

warnings: fluff, minor angst

requested by @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend : This is fun! I also love that icon pic - MGG is adorable. the season’s kind of blur together for me, but I think this was an early one - could you maybe write a story where the reader has a crush on Reid and she finds out about Lila the celebrity with the stalker who liked him? Like the reader finds out about it and feels insecure because she can’t compete and Reid is obviously oblivious to her liking him until finally he asks why she’s acting different and she just tells him.

summary: lila is a perfect match for spencer, and when you catch them making out in her pool, you can’t help but compare yourself to her in every way.

author’s note: if you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me. if your tag doesn’t work three times in a row (three stories i post in a row) then I will be removing you.

feedback the glue that holds my writing together

tags at the bottom

“Coffee with 7 sugars,” you grinned as you set the cup on your best friend’s desk. He looked up with a huge smile, relieved that he could now drink his sugary drink.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Spencer said.

“I don’t know how you drink that much sugar. Isn’t it just safer to drink fruit juice?” you asked as you took a seat.

“Actually, most produce naturally contains sugar, and fruit typically packs more than vegetables. Without fiber in the mix, juice is essentially just the natural sugars and water found in its ingredients. Though natural sugar may seem harmless, your body does little to distinguish between the sugars in an apple versus those in a piece of candy. So, no, it wouldn’t be safer,” he rambled.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be you. What it’s like to think like you,” you chuckled with a shake of your head.

“A lot of hard work,” he blushed. Looking around the office, you cause Morgan staring at you and Spencer with a smile on his face. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the work that was piled on your desk. You and Spencer shared a desk but that never bothered you. He has been your constant friend since arriving at the BAU. He taught you the ropes, helped you get accommodated, and treated you like you were apart of the family since day one.

He had been kind, gentle, and caring towards you all the time which is why you’ve developed feelings towards him. They didn’t happen overnight, it was a matter of time before you realized why you had butterflies in your stomach whenever he even looked your way. He couldn’t see what everyone else saw; he was beyond handsome, amazingly intelligent, and so adorable. He would never think twice about a woman like you even looking twice his way. It’s why you didn’t tell him of your feelings.

Everyone else in the BAU knew of your feelings for him as well as his feelings for you. Every morning you bought coffee for him just the way he liked. You’d take him out to lunch when he’d forget to eat. You’d always ask about his day when it was over and he was walking you to your car. You two cared so much for the other that you didn’t see just how much your feelings have grown.

In your work bag, you had bags of snacks that you knew Spencer would enjoy, so when it came around that time to eat a snack, you would put them on his desk and watch him eat it with a smile. Everyone else questioned why you didn't bring them snacks, but they knew the answer to that one. Morgan and Garcia pushed you and Spencer to tell the other about your feelings, but you would shut her down just like Spencer did with Morgan. Spencer thought you were way out of his league when you thought you weren't good enough to be with a man like him.

You were too beautiful for him, and you weren't smart enough. He was too awkward and clumsy, and you were too ordinary for him. It was like either/or with everything that went on in your mind, so you decided to forget about it. Being Spencer’s friend was a hell of a lot better than not knowing him at all. At least this way, you could be close to him, laugh with him, and share his victories.

There had been a case recently about a celebrity, Lila Archer, having a stalker. She was getting death threats, pictures of her, and anonymous flowers sent to her trailer. The BAU was called onto the case, and Hotch assigned Spencer to be her personal bodyguard until the situation resolved itself. You wouldn’t have a problem with that because if anyone could protect her, it would be Spencer, but you were kind of insecure.

Lila was beautiful in every way. She was skinny, toned, blonde, had blue eyes, was funny, and she seemed especially interested in Spencer. Of course, he didn't see the flirtation she sent his way which only angered you more because she was going to keep doing it. It wasn’t in your place to stop her from advancing on him because you weren't his girlfriend, and if he wanted to date someone like her then so be it. You two have grown close recently, so you hoped he would see through her ac and choose to stick by your side.

Since he was her bodyguard, he stayed at her house with her just in case anything were to happen. Hotch requested him to check up every half hour with news on what was going on. Spencer followed every rule to the T, but the only problem was that you hadn’t heard from him in over an hour and a half.

“Y/N,” Hotch spoke, calling you over to him. Leaving JJ’s side, you approached your boss professionally. “I need you to go check on Lila and Spencer and see what happened. He isn’t checking in for a reason. Go see what it is.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded as you grabbed one of the company’s vehicle’s keys. Quickly heading out you drove to Lila’s house which wasn’t that far away. As you approached her front door, it was locked which was to be expected. Thinking that maybe her gates were open, you headed out to the back to see if you could spot one of them in one of the many windows from the back. Luckily the gate was short enough for you to reach over and unlock it from the inside, so you walked in with your gun present in case there was danger.

As you turned the corner, you saw a lump in the pool, and as you walked closer, you saw it was Spencer and Lila. Making out. Every vein in your body froze with the realization that you would never be good enough for him. Lowering your gun in shock, you stared at them as he kissed her with passion. Her hands were all over him, and you looked away as tears began to brim the surface of your eyes. She was everything you weren't so it made sense why he chose her over you.

Seeing as how there was no real danger here, you turned and left the property, taking your sweet ass time to get back to the main office. When you did, the only thing you told Hotch was that they got caught up making dinner and watching a movie to check in. Thankfully he believed in it, but Morgan could sense that something was off. There was something you were hiding from Hotch, something that clearly made you upset.

********************************************************************************************

When the case was over, everyone was on the plane back to Quantico. It was silent as most of the team were sleeping, except you, Spencer, and Morgan. He had his headphones on, but his eyes were on you and your best friend. With almost every plane ride, you and Spencer played a few games of chess which he always won. In the past, you told him repeatedly why he would want to play you when you always lost, but he always said he loved the challenge and the stimulating environment. However, this time, you just weren't into it.

“You can start,” Spencer smiled.

“No thanks,” you said in a monotone voice. He snapped his eyes to you in concern, sensing something was wrong. “I don’t want to play.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t want to play. I’m going to see if I can sleep for a bit,” you said as you got up, making your way over to the other side of the plane and took a seat. Spencer frowned but let it go, afraid he did something to make you like this. Morgan took off his headphones before approaching you, taking a seat directly across from you.

“You okay, kid?” he asked quietly. Before you came alone, Spencer was the youngest of the team, but now it was you only by a few years. Spencer was currently 25 years old with you being just 21.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You were fine when you left to check on Spencer and Lila. Did something happen with them?”

“Lila Archer. Why is he even coming home? He should just stay with her if he likes her so much,” you scoffed.

“I see. You don’t get it, but you will. You both will. He’s on this plane for a reason,” he grinned as he stood up.

“Yeah, it’s his job,” you answered as he walked away although, he didn’t answer back.

********************************************************************************************

For the next few days, you couldn’t help but be cold towards Spencer. There was no morning coffee waiting for him, no snacks, and no lunch. Whenever he asked to do something, you would make some lame excuse as to why you couldn’t. He always seemed oblivious which is why he never pressed it further. He was going crazy trying to rack his brain as to why you were acting this way to him. He tries to ask you, but he never could get an answer.

It’s not like you wanted to treat him this way, but whenever you looked at him all you saw was Lila. Lila and him in the pool making out. Lila with her hands all over his body as he kissed her with passion. Now that you were back in Quantico, you had some time to think about the whole mess which you didn't like. It was the precise reason why you called in “sick” one morning. You couldn’t go to work and see Spencer one more time without bursting into tears.

“Where is Y/N?” Spencer asked when he saw your desk empty. YOu usually came in before he did.

“Took a sick day,” Morgan replied.

“Sick? She was feeling fine yesterday. Is she okay?” he panicked, hoping you were alright.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you go check on her for us? I’m sure she would love the company,” he smirked, knowing you weren't really sick.

“Hotch, can I go see Y/N? She might need some help,” Spencer asked his boss. When he and Morgan exchanged looks, they both were on the same page.

“Make it quick,” he nodded. Spencer quickly packed his things before heading out, driving to your house as quickly as he could. When he got there, he knocked on the door and waited.

No one was supposed to come over, and everyone you knew was at work, so who could that be? Leaving your blanket behind, you walked to the door before opening it blindly. There was no peephole despite you complaining to your landlord about it. When you saw Spencer there, your whole body froze.

“You’re not sick,” he observed.

“Yes, I am,” you faked coughed, hoping he was dumb enough to fall for it.

“That was a fake cough, your nose isn’t red from blowing it, I don’t see any tissues scattered on the floor, no bowl with soup, or a trash can in case you need to throw up. Plus, I can’t smell cough medicine on your breath, and I know it’s strong because I’ve had it before. And you’re watching Grey’s Anatomy which isn’t the show you watch when you’re sick. You watch Spongebob because it makes you laugh.”

“Shit,” you muttered, knowing you could never fool him.

“What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me all week. Did I do something to make you upset?”

“Ask Lila. I’m sure she would just love it if you called her. Maybe she might fly you down there so you two can resume kissing,” you glared as your mouth spit out words.

“You s-saw that?” he stuttered.

“That’s what you have to say? You know what, bye Spencer. Go back to work,” you said as you began closing the door. However, he stuck his hand out an walked in as if he owned the place.

“Are you jealous?” he wondered.

“What, no,” you scoffed.

“I think you are. Your body froze when you saw me--”

“Okay, fine, I am. So what?” you cut him of, not in the mood to hear another diagnose.

“But why?”

“Because maybe I like you? As in more than a friend. Maybe it’s because when I saw you kiss Lila I wished it were me instead?” you confessed, watching his reaction closely.

“Y-you like me?” he asked and you nodded as your answer. “But why?”

“Are you seriously asking me that question? Look at you, Spencer. You’re unbelievably handsome; I have a hard enough time as it is trying to keep my hands off you. You’re so smart and funny, and caring, and you give me butterflies when you just look at me. But, I’m not Lila. I’m not skinny like she is, or a model, or blonde with blue eyes. I’m just me. I’m not that smart, I’m not that attractive, and you deserve someone like her. At least she had the balls to kiss you.”

“I don’t want Lila. She kissed me. I didn’t know what to do so I ran with it. But she’s not you. I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re very smart otherwise you wouldn’t be where you are now. You’re funny, you always take care of me, and you’re my best friend. I will always choose you,” he said as he blushed.

“Spencer,” you whispered as he walked closer to you.

“C-can I kiss you?” he stuttered, afraid to even ask the question.

“You never have to ask me that for my answer will always be yes,” you grinned, grasping his tie and pulling him down towards you. His lips met yours passionately, and you finally felt at home. You were right where you belonged, and you never wanted to leave.

********************************************************************************************

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635 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Hypothetically,

Summary: reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: fluff/ eventual Smut

Warnings/Includes: cursing, graphic descriptions of cases, crime scenes and mentions of rape and sexual assault. mentions of blood, guns, murder and other basic criminal minds stuff

Word count: 7.3k

a/n: I'm new to the fandom but i'd love to add more to this if it does well <3 let me know what you think

chapter one

It took Y/N longer than she had hoped to finally catch up to him. He seemed to go from the cute little boy with a bow tie who sat beside her in her kindergarten class to working for the FBI by the time you graduated high school. It wasn’t fair that hehe happened to be smarter than anyone on earth causing him to test out of elementary school before you even got to know him.

Spencer Reid had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the sweetest personality to match. You saw him around as he grew up, coming home to see his mom often and minding his business as he wandered around in his free time.

He liked to sit on the swings at the abandoned park across the street from your house, it was a place he would go to at the most random hours of the day for years on end. Every time he was in the area, he visited the swing. And She’d watch him from her window seat in her bedroom. Pretending to read, but really she was watching him read.

It was years of watching, from the ages of 13 to 18 when he was coming back and forth from working on his second Ph.D., and she was still trying to make it through high school.

But she never walked out there and talked to him, she knew nothing real about him other than his name and that he was smart. The town told rumours about him being an alien or a government experiment because there was no way a kid could be so smart, but you never believed them. You liked to keep to the idea that he was sweet, smart, and special.

Y/N kept tabs with him online, as weird as it felt to her she had a strange sense of pride when it came to Spencer’s achievements. That was the kid she sat beside in kindergarten out there working for the FBI saving lives and changing the world. It inspired her.

At 26 she finally bumps into him again. She’s carrying boxes into her new apartment with help from a moving company when he leaves the apartment across the hall from her.