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reidsqlick · 9 months ago

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You’ll be back, right? || (S.R)

pairing(s): Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

summary: Spencer and you had been close friends, but due to an unexpected, sudden reason that friendship had fallen through, and led to what seems to be a rivalry.. what happens when you confront him of this?

warning(s): (MDNI 18+), softdom!spencer, unprotected sex, p in v, swearing, I don’t believe there’s any more but if there is please enlighten me 💔💔.

word count: 3,7k

Working for the FBI was a challenge, everyone who looked into the FBI, or had been an agent would tell you the same. As an agent, you’ve definitely come close to death many times throughout your career, you had known that’s what came with the job, and you more than ready for that. You were quite honestly ready for whatever this job could bring your way. Ready to tackle each obstacle with such ease, so much to the point you didn’t even care what could be thrown your way.

That’s what you thought until you had met Dr. Spencer Reid. Being transferred to this unit of yours was something you had no issue doing. Ready for whatever it brought you, whatever new challenges this career brought you. Nothing, and I mean nothing was going to get in the way of that mindset of yours you were so, ultimately set on.

Unfortunately, that mindset hadn’t met Spencer Walter Reid. The genius of the BAU. Mr. “187 IQ”. Once a twenty-four year old kid prodigy who knew more than most at that age. Now, obviously not twenty-four, and not quite a ‘kid prodigy’ anymore.

The man had gotten on your nerves since the day he chose his ego over you. Not cause he was necessarily a bad guy, he was actually friends with you. However, the shit that got on your nerves was the fact he was open about disliking you, his ego slowly becoming more important than your friendship sometime during your duration of working there.

Forever you thought about what you had done. At first, you two were oh so close, as close as one can get with Reid, at the time he at least could have tolerate saying more than at minimum, five word sentences to you in passing, or because Hotch had asked you two to pair up to go check things out.

He always teased you at work. Either making some snide comment about your intelligence, or critiquing the way you had gotten your part of the job done. God, it was aggravating to say the least. With each snide comment that was said in passing, the more he pissed you off.

You really hadn’t hated him. You had hated the way he was so rude towards you. You truly never got it, never understood how he could be so nice to you when you had joined, talking to you more than a friend should, but, hey.. he probably talked to everyone like that, right?

One day it snapped. He just… started being an absolute piss poor son of a bitch who couldn’t get enough of himself. Wafting in every comment of some girl on a case in passing, it stroking his ego. God, the man was so aggravating in every way possible. You just couldn’t understand what changed with him.

Yeah, okay. If we’re being honest with one another, I liked him, okay? I more than liked him. I kind of slightly loved him. When I first joined the unit, I had clicked with him the most. It was almost instant. Your shared love for ‘Doctor who’, and books. Most of all, you listened to him ramble. Not many do that, and when they do they always tease him for it.

Now he’s teasing you? Jesus, you couldn’t get over it. The man you once let into your heart, expressed your interests to him, let you be yourself around him, becoming such an asshat. That was beyond what you could’ve expected. Especially since it was so out of the blue.

Life is very against you as of late. You and the team are out on a case in Boston, where you’ll have to be staying in one of the “lovely” hotels there. The issue is that the team actually had gotten done with the case early. The hotel had been booked for a whole extra day.

So, due to Penelope Nagging Hotch so much to the point he actually gave in, you’re all going drinking. The hotel bar, obviously. Can’t stray too far from one another, yes we’re all FBI agents, but… safety first, always.

You weren’t one for drinking if you were honest, but it was a team thing, so you’d go. This case had ended up being much more stressful than it let off, and you kind of needed to cool off, and with the people you considered family.

You hadn’t dressed up, Jesus, no. Never. You aren’t one for dressing up. Yeah, you’re feminine.. just, sometimes dresses aren’t the comfiest, that’s one. Two, for fucks sake.. this is a hotel bar. It’s truly not serious enough to dress up for.

Just your leisure wear you brought, jeans, and a t-shirt. Don’t even get me started on the “Pick me” or “You’re so basic” shit, it’s just leisure wear, at a hotel bar. Fuck if I care, I’ll dress how I please.

Leaving your hotel room, you walk up to the elevator, pressing the ‘down’ arrow. Awaiting the elevator, to your surprise the one and only Spencer Walter Reid decided to waltz to catch it as well. Jesus Christ. He’s really not one for drinking. I know I’m not one for drinking, but he isn’t last time I checked.

The elevator dung open, and you stepped in, Spencer walking in behind you. You click the ‘one’, and wait for this ride to be over. You look around, trying to ignore the fact he was here. You look over at him for, what? A split second, and he catches your eyes.

Fuck. That was accidental… oh, what? He’s still wearing his suit. Jesus, you’d think the man would get into something more comfortable, yet… he’s Spencer Reid. He’s not getting more comfy than this.

Shit, this elevator ride is longer than you remembered it being. Yeah, you were on the twelveth floor, but why is it taking so long. You speak up, hating the silence. Might as well embarrass yourself more than you already had, mhm. Great fucking idea!

“Didn’t take you as much of a drinker, Boygenius.” You said, loud enough for him to hear you, but not quite loud at all. “You don’t know me, (Y/LN). You can’t ‘take’ me as much of anything.” He said, obviously annoyed. Shit.. why’d he have to be such an asswipe about everything he did. Jesus Christ you can’t say anything anymore, can you?

“Actually I do-“ he cut you off, “You do not know me. You think you know me, and I hate to break it to you, but you don’t know me. Don’t know why you somehow think cause we were close years ago when you first started working here, that you know anything. You don’t know me enough to classify me as a drinker, that’s one. Even if I wasn’t before, people change (Y/LN).”

Before you could even add, you were disrupted by the ding of the elevator. Thank god. But, seriously? Where does he think he gets off? You both leave the elevator, him in-front of you now. Walking to the bar, you were greeted by the rest of your team. Penelope enveloping you in one of her hugs.

Chatter between the team had went on for an hour or two, you hadn’t gotten drunk, but you were… tipsy to say the least. You really, seriously weren’t one for drinking, but Spencer being there, and his snarky ass comments from earlier truly set you off. You decide it’s better to go to your room before you get shit-faced drunk, so you say your ‘goodbyes’ to the rest of the team.

Pen pulled you aside, “Hun.. what’s up? You’ve barely spoken a word tonight. You’re just away from us, the group. Did we.. do something on the case that we missed? I can make someone apologize, cause (Y/LN)… I’m not gonna let stuff like that slide-“ you just sit silent. Giving her that look.

She looked confused. “(Y/N).. who,” you cut her off “Spencer. It’s nothing. Just.. we got on the elevator together and it got awkward again. Pen, you’re so lucky I love the rest of you cause I’d have already left cause of Spencer ‘I’ve got a stick in my ass’ Reid.” She and I chuckled.

She nodded, waving you goodbye. Telling the rest of the team about your departure for the night. You left the bar, walking towards the elevator, and clicking the ‘up’ arrow. It dinged not too long after, you entered, and clicked number twelve. As the doors were close to shutting, a hand came between them, forcing them to open back up.

Cause life hates me, who else could it possibly be except Spencer goddamn Reid? Jesus. Why’d we have to leave at the same time, why’d we have to get stuck in the same elevator again!? The ride was silent, well… for a while it was, until he decided it was just lovely to open his mouth, yeah this is just what you needed right now after your previous six drinks.

“Didn’t take you for much of a drinker, either (Y/L/N).” He chuckled, opening up the topic of conversation started just hours ago. “Hah, very funny Reid, I’m really not one.” He shrugged. “No? You didn’t sit at the bar and consume six too many drinks? That wasn’t you? Guess I’m imagining someone else as you.”

You sighed, staying silent. Not wanting to speak to him anymore than you already have tonight. You’re intoxicated, scratch that, you were more than intoxicated, and this really is NOT the proper setting for this. “Don’t wanna talk? Oh, wait.. you don’t want to speak to my face? That’s right. Okay, (Y/LN). I see, you can easily just tell people I have a “stick in my ass” and yet, won’t respond to me? That’s fine with me..”

Those words lingered.. oh they’re pissing you off. You looked at him, he was already looking down at you with the most aggravating smirk on his face. “You do have a stick up your ass. There? What do you want me to tell you!? What can I tell you? Last I remember I ‘don’t know you’ so how will I speak to you if I don’t even know you. Oh, and what can I say? Hmmm? Enlighten me, Spencer. Every time I do something you don’t like, you start running your mouth. Last time I checked, that’s the only time I’ve spoken about you behind your back, so you obviously need to get a grip, Reid.”

“You need me to enlighten you, do you?” He began, “Let me enlighten you, (Y/LN). You can say whatever you want, that’s fine with me, you simply just don’t bring me into it. We got that clear? I don’t need my coworkers thinking im some sort of dick cause you’re butthurt,” he looked at your eyes carefully “and intoxicated.”

“Why don’t you like me anymore,” I let out quietly. “Hm?” He said, clearing his throat. “Why. Don’t. You. Like. Me. Anymore!?” I said, louder. Tears violently threatening to spill. “What’re you talking about?” A tear rolled down your face “What am I talking about!? Jesus, how many times do I have to say it. We were friends, Reid. I liked you,” he was taken aback “I loved you. Jesus, did you forget about our friendship? I know it’s been a while.. but how many girls have to flirt with you to forget your friend? God, Spencer.”

He didn’t even say anything. You stood there, unaware of what was happening, obviously intoxicated. Tears spilling out of your eyes slowly. He looked over at you, looking at you, reading your expressions. He took two steps, making you two mere inches apart. He then leaned down, putting his forehead on yours.

You sniffled, “Reid, what’re you doing-“ “Can I kiss you, (Y/N)? Please say yes..” you nodded. “I need you to tell me I can kiss you, need you to tell me you want me to kiss you.” “Yes, Reid,” before you could even finish he grabbed the sides of your face, pushing his lips onto yours.

You kissed him back, with just as much eagerness as confusion. Don’t you hate him? What’s happening? Before you could even think properly the elevator dinged, you’ve made it to your floor.

He then moved his hands to your waist, leading you out of the elevator, lips still on yours, you pulled away. “Reid. What’re you doing?” Then, it came out. The years you wanted to know what happened, and he’s about to tell you. “I love you, too.” Your response? You pulled his lips back onto yours, walking backwards, finding your room.

You broke the kiss for a second, turning around to unlock the door, reaching for the keycard in your pocket, as Spencer wrapped his hands around your waist. When the door unlocked you basically ran into the room, closing the door behind you two. Once you turned around, your lips were already back on his.

You might be asking, why aren’t you talking this out? Why aren’t you asking what this is? His lips are telling you all you need to know, and you weren’t mad at all. Stumbling around the room, you made it to the bedroom and closed that door, as well. His hands still firm on your waist, he then pushed you against the bedroom door.

His mouth moved from your lips to peppering kisses on your jaw, to then sucking down onto your neck. You were letting out small whimpers, nothing too loud, but it was making him absolutely crazy. As he was marking your neck with visible bruises that weren’t going to be gone anytime soon, he moved his knee between your legs.

You began to grind down on this knee to create some form of friction. Fuck, you were getting louder. Seriously, (Y/N). I mean… seriously? You hate him. You hate how snarky he gets, hate how he makes snide comments, hate how good his lips feel traveling down your neck, hate how good his knee feels against your already aching cunt.

He then started to move his leg with the movements of your hips against him. Jesus. You’re putty in his hands, aren’t you? You’re done for. He then moved his hands under your shirt, starting to ride it up, asking you a question “Can I take it off,” he asked, all you could do was let out sorry whimpers as you were essentially getting yourself off on him, he stopped the movements of his leg, his grip on your hips tightening again “Hm?” All you did was nod, giving him your approval.

Once that was gone, he went back to working on your neck, sucking small bruises, moving down to your collarbone, receiving whimpers and low moans from you. He then moved his hands to the buttons of your jeans. “Can I?” He asked, you nodded again. “Can I?” He repeated. You speak up, “Mhm-“ he nodded, beginning to unbutton your jeans, and then unzipping the zip on them, causing them to fall to the floor.

There wasn’t much light in the room, only a lamp in the corner illuminating the dark room. Enough light for him to be able to see the wet spot in your underwear. He smiled, “You’re already so wet.” He said, circling small circles on your clothed clit, making whimpers fall from your mouth so desperately.

“You know,” he said, pushing your panties to the side, gathering up your arousal on two of his fingers “I love you. It’s why I ignored you so much,” he said, bringing his fingers up and down your slit, “too distracted to do my job sometimes, you know.” He said, inserting one finger into you, causing a breathily gasp leaving your mouth with such ease.

“Just thought if I ignored you, it’d help me from getting distracted with my job.” He said, moving his finger at a slower pace, curling it so every so often to get a reaction out of you. “It didn’t help much, though-“ he said, “I was still getting distracted, all the time. Couldn’t even focus on work, princess.” He added another finger, stretching you out even more. “You know what happens when I can’t focus on work? I get upset, love. Wasn’t even you I was mad at, I was mad at myself, for getting so fucking pent up over you.” He said as he continued his pace, curling his fingers every so often.

He then pulled them out, a soft, disappointing whimper leaving your lips. “Shh, I know. Let’s get you comfy, yeah?” He said, moving you onto the bed, beginning to fully undress you, leaving you exposed. “What about you…” you chimed in nervously. He chuckled. “Oh, right. Sorry, princess. Let me just,” he said as he begun to rid himself of his own garments.

When he rid himself of his prior clothing, all but his boxers, he then hovered over top of you, beginning to gather up more of your slick, rubbing your clit in small, tight circles leaving you an absolute mess. You then began to grip the hand he was using to prop himself up with, needy with greed, your eyes practically begging.

“You close already, princess?” He asked in that cocky tone of his, smirking. If he hadn’t been making you feel this good, bringing you this close to release, making you feel better than you could ever do yourself, you would’ve already hit him upside the head. You then nodded, moans leaving your mouth the easiest they ever had. He had then removed himself of his boxers, his cock springing up and hitting his chest, glistening with all his pre-cum.

Your mouth all but fell to the ground in shock, it was so pretty, he was so pretty. Looking down at you, he had begun alligning himself with your glistening cunt, gathering your slick, finally positioning himself at your entrance, “You ready for me, princess?” You bucked your hips, nodding quickly, “Are you ready?” He asked again, the need to be in you was strong, but the need for your consent was stronger. “Yes, please Spencer—“ He smiled, “Good,” he said, slowly sinking into you, disappearing into you inch, by inch.

He fully sunk into you with a low groan, and slowly begun thrusting into you, warming you up for him, he had then moved his hand between your bodies, and began rubbing your clit in painfully slow circles, watching your face contort with a dumbfound smile on his face. He had then began to move faster, causing you to get even louder than before, and then he finally found his pace, the perfect pace, the pace that hit that spot of yours so well, the spot you were sure never existed, as the men before him were never able to find it, let alone you.

But, fuck. You had to admit, it felt so good. “Spencer— fuck… keep, keep going,” you were putty in his hands, you were his to mold, “yes— like that! Fuck…” he couldn’t help but let out small grunts, and groans. He never knew he could have such an effect on you, he had played this moment so many times in his head, but he’s so, so thankful for his eidetic memory so he can actually remember this moment exactly.

“Feel good doesn’t it, Angel?” He groaned, “Hits where it’s supposed to,” your whimpers got needier, his thrusts got sloppier, “ts’ like this cock was made just for you.” that was it, that was truly it, drunk off his words, his every moment, “Spencer, I’m—“ he got even sloppier, faster, rubbing your clit with such speed you could explode right then and there, your legs began to shake around him.

“Let go, princess. I know you can, ‘know you want to, let it all out for me,” he said, groans getting louder, getting close to his own release himself, two more strokes and you were a dead woman, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, head thrown back, moans louder than ever.

“Fuck, Angel..” he said, pulling out, stroking himself fast, needing his own release, and seeing you like this, cum dripping out of you, it’s just what he needed, it’s the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and now it was ingrained in his mind forever. “Where do you want me, I—“ you whimpered, he was so pretty like this, fucking his hand, head cocked back, groans leaving him.. “T-tummy’s fine—“ and there it was, leaving his cock just seconds later.

His body plopped next to you, hand finding your cheek, caressing it softly. “You did so good for me, Angel..” he smiled softly, you giggled at his compliment, words more innocent than the action you had shared just moments earlier. “Hey, hey let’s get you cleaned up, don’t need you a mess, now do we?” He chucked, leaving the room to grab a washcloth, and coming back with it, wiping his cum off your stomach.

Once you were cleaned up, he had grabbed clothes from your go bag, dressing you slowly, not wanting to overworked your already tired self, “Thank you, Spencer—“ you said softly, almost a whisper, he smiled with pride, “No need to thank me, princess. It wasn’t a favor.” You couldn’t help but giggle, “Mhm, I know— just thought I should thank you, mm never felt that good before, thought that was worth a thanks.”

Once you were in comfy clothes, he had lied next to you, caressing your face, “Angel..” he started, “I’ve gotta go back to my room..” he trailed off, not wanting to leave you like this, sleepy, and alone..

Before he could even finish what he wanted to say, you interrupted him “Don’t—!” He chuckled softly, “I don’t want to, I promise you.. I just need to grab something, okay?” You nodded, but a low groan left your tired lips.

He had gotten up from the mattress, it springing up due to the loss of his weight. Once he reached the handle of the door you yelled out to him, “You’ll be back, right?” your voice drowsy, dripping with tiredness.

He looked back for a moment, smiling softly, “Right.”

A/N: oh my god this is my first published smut my teeth are jittering, hands shaking… please please PLEASE tell me how I did if you could cause I actually can’t tell how bad or good this is. but yeah, I tried. P.S: this smut has been sitting in my drafts for over a MONTH.

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mischiefmaker615 · 5 months ago

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Not This Time

Summary: Being one of Loki's mindless puppets comes with benefits.. for him

Requester: @eleniblue

Rating: *DARK* R, buckle up cause.. god damn

Song Inspired: For You by HIM

‘Trembling.. throbbing.. pain.. I see what’s happening but.. my body betrays me.. how could I have done such things? His bidding.. his.. I would have never stolen.. hacked.. backstabbed.. killed.. not them.. not my friends.. not SHIELD..’

My body tensed, the more I would fight to gain control, the more my head would hurt. Move damn it! all I could do was stand there, ready on call or to take orders. We all still wore our uniforms. But he’s taken away our reason for wearing them.. all for his sick, twisted bidding for this plan of his.. I’m not sure what he has all of them building, but I know it’s not good. They’re all just his puppets, holding a bright, blue hue to their eyes as they mindlessly went about his orders, just as I did whenever I was given one.

Was I special? Everyone else would slave away but most of the time all I was told to do was stand there.. ready and waiting, but hardly given an order other than to move to the next room where he would resign next.. him… Loki..

Perhaps its his own way to torture me? To just stand there and watch while my coworkers- my friends, would slave away going against what we all believe in, to help him destroy this world. The more I thought, the more I thought but the pain of a headache would make it nearly impossible to keep trying as I would flinch back into an emotionless state.

Today was different.. at least, according to him.

He stared more than usual, he normally did when you were in his presence, seeming like he was half listening to whomever he was speaking with while his eyes seemed to study my body. Gods..

He talked a lot with Barton, selecting him as a right hand man to do his bidding, and it practically broke my heart to see my friend not being able to do a damn thing about it. just as we all couldn’t..

A hand rubbed against my hip, a long slender hand that pulled me out of my thoughts and I felt my body stand better at attention against my wishes as I lock eyes with Loki. ‘’sir?’’ my mouth responded, yet my mind screamed at wanting his hand off of me.

He would merely smirk and walk away, his lingering hand being removed at the last minute as he would walk away. Not today. ‘’agent Y/N,’’ he spoke, my name rolling off his tongue as I held my breath. ‘’I need you to come with me.’’ He says and begins to walk off, his hand waiting to the last minute to leave my body before joining his side while I felt my legs begin to follow.

What did he want? He hardly ever gave me a job- half the time I felt like a decoration as I watched the others work.. and there were hardly other female ‘puppets’ if you will. I couldn’t even ask him what he wanted, my body just responded by “doing” without a question or pause to it. my mind screamed countless times to halt, very much so in the beginning to the point of mental exhaustion until now I just held my breath and expected it to be simple things such as “have you see agent this or that following orders?” “what file permits so and so?” such things like that to bid his plans.

Not this time.

My heart felt like it stopped as I followed him through a few halls before we got to a room in which he usually slept- a simple, almost prison like room where there was dim light, blank walls and the only piece of furniture there was a bed.

‘’after you,’’ he smirked, standing to the side as I felt my lips pull to a smile and gave him a thank you nod before he followed me in.

My body shuddered, feeling how any interaction I had with him, my body would be polite, smiley, almost flirtatious if people would have taken a guess. That wasn’t me? That’s not who I was..

‘’oh but it is Agent Y/N.’’

His voice was amused, and my mind stopped and so did my heart as I turned to face him just as he had closed the door. ‘’you have very loud thoughts, you seem to be the only one I can here where all the others seem quiet. How interesting..’’ he raised a brow with a grin, staring at me, intrigued as I stood at attention with my body beginning to tense again.

‘so.. you can read my mind?’ I thought, my body still and my face blank as he chuckled and gave a nod.

‘’I can my darling, and have kept you around for my own amusement while I’ve had to tend to a few things. But now I have a task for you finally.’’ His voice got dangerously low at the last part.

‘’of course sir,’’ I hated myself while I was like this, never would have thought I’d betray.. myself.

‘’your not darling, this is your true self. You mind stops you from acting upon certain things because humans have..’’ his hand waved slightly to search for a word. ‘’morals. What your body does and how it responds, is your true self.’’

‘’yes sir.’’ my mouth responded but my heart felt rage surging. ‘fuck you! humans have always been free will creatures- knowing what’s good and bad and acting upon that. I would never-‘

‘’no? touch me. If your human mind is so strong and sure of free will, I guarantee this little spell of mine will instantly break. If your mind is strong enough.’’ He smirked ‘’if it’s not, perhaps it’s because this is the good that your body wants to act upon.’’

‘no- no no no-‘’ my mind screamed, feeling my body move towards him as my hips seemed to take on a sultry pace, as if I was some type of flirt in another life. This isn’t me- stop! My mind screamed to stop myself as I stood close enough so our shoes could touch. The heels on my knee-high boots gave the advantage of height for his and I felt my hands resting at his stomach, his cold metal and leather running against my finger tips as my hands moved up to his chest and to his shoulders.

An amused look on his face pierced into my eyes, knowing he was loving and entertained with the fact that I was his puppet, that I just proved his point that I wasn’t strong enough to break his spell. My heart rate quickened as he bends down ever so slightly for my height, his hands running at my sides, my body suit feeling paper thin in that moment as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent while his hands suddenly gripped my ass.

‘your sick- you fucking bastard- I hate you-‘ I screamed in my mind, feeling my eyes closed as my head tilted back, exposing my throat to him as he began leaving slow, open mouth kisses against my flesh while he smirked against me.

‘’if you didn’t want it, then you’d be free right now darling.. this is the chance at freedom I provide, do not deny yourself the pleasures your body desperately crazes’’ he purrs against my skin, nipping at it that seemed to pull light gasps from my lips while he kneaded and pulled my ass more towards him, his bulge pressed up against my clothed center while my fingers gripped into his hair, earning a growl from him.

‘please don’t do this.. anything but this..’ I yelled in my head, sounding as though I was choking back tears while my eyes remained completely content and dry while he began grinding himself against me.

‘’I do believe I brought you in here for an order,’’ he seemed to think out loud, as if trying to remember but the smirk on his face showed how he could never possibly forget as he suddenly released me and I stood, catching my breath while he looked me over.

‘’it’s been quite busy lately, and having been going through hell to get to this realm can be quite stressful; so I am in need of some relief finally, now that we have some time..’’ he smirked, his body drinking in my covered curves while I stood obediently still for my next order.

‘go to hell-‘

‘’you have been quite the woman on this realm, serving on the wrong side. Needless to say, I’ve know about you far longer than you know..’’ he said with his voice quiet, beginning to circle me while I held still.

‘what are you talking abou-‘

‘’you think this spell really just gives me the ability to control your body? It’s given me your thoughts, desires.. memories.. i first laid my eyes on you.. back when my brother came here first.. although I wasn’t worthy enough to pick up his hammer, it wasn’t a total waste of coming there.’’ He smirked, my eyes raising to look at him as every once and awhile he would pass my front, standing behind me where my mind would tense at his whereabouts until he would full circle again.

Bastard..

‘’I’ve watched you since, fully anticipating this moment where not only will I have a kingdom, but someone to rule beside me with it.’’ he said gently, his expression and voice genuinely honest as if he were straight up proposing to me now.

‘you’re a murderer!’

‘’and I’ve done it all for you in the end.. so we could be together.. as much as I’ve hated having you like this.. but I promise it won’t be forever.. you’ll choose me willingly in the end..’’ he whispered, finding himself behind me now as his hands stroked my waist and hips, his bulge pressed firmly to my ass again while his chin rested at my shoulder.

“I love you and I hope you feel the same..’’ he breathed ‘’even if it’s.. not right now. There is so much to focus on but we’ll get there..’’ he sighed, almost not hearing my screaming thoughts anymore as his head tilts towards mine to begin kissing my neck and behind my ear. ‘’I’m for you.. you may not realize it now, but your body as responded honestly, it’s only a matter of time before you rid of your denial.. I saw how you looked at me, those many years ago..’’

If I could glare and shove him I would. ‘you mean of pity, how you could never be worthy of anything, not even picking up a hammer?’ I thought it, there was truly no real way of not thinking it and that seemed to piss him off as he gripped my hips, spun me enough to where he could shove me back to I could hit the wall before his hands gripped my wrists, pinning them above my head where his face leaned dangerously close with his own piercing blue eyes.

“I will make you love me, even if it kills you..’’ he breathed, his hand moving my wrist so he had both in only one, while his gripped the zipper of my jumpsuit.

My body didn’t even struggle, he just applied pressure to my wrists so I could squirm in pain and I almost appreciated my nature response I knew I would have done no matter what.. not everything else..

‘you’ll spend a life time then of unsatisfaction.. my body may respond, but my mind still is mine’ I shout at him, even as my lips stayed perfectly still, other than the small gasps that would leave my mouth as he slowly moved a hand into my suit and down my pelvis, his finger tips ghosting over my panties where my clit was.

‘’my heaven is wherever you are..’’ he breathed, as if touching me instantly sooths his mood as he begins kissing at my exposed skin at my best and my cleavage now that my zipper is down.

‘s-stop-‘

“I love you 'til my death do us part..’’ he murmured against my skin and his hand dips into my panties now, my back arches at the feeling of his hand now finding my pleasure spot. ‘’I’ve waited for so long.. how could you ask for me to wait more..’’ he practically begs, feeling his finger ghost in and out of your tight entrance and the feeling of your arousal has him shiver.

‘I’m not yours to have bastard! Get off of-‘

‘’I’m killing myself for your love..’’ he breaths and slowly pulls back, releasing me as I stood back with undone clothes, awaiting like a good little puppet while my head throbs at trying to fight. ‘’I am here for you..’’ he breaths and his hands draw down to his leather and armor, not even sure how you go about putting it on but somehow he now has freed his cock that has a mere size that made my heart jump in freight.

‘’and like it or not, you are mine. Body and soul, I just need to break that little mind of yours.. you’ve been abused and in denial for to long, it’s time to let go’’ he breaths and I scream eternally scream when I feel myself sink down to my knees.

His eyes follow me with desperate breaths while he strokes himself and I move my hands against his thighs.

‘p-please stop- d-don’t do this..’ I scream while a hand comes to pet my hair, my eyes looking up at him with almost excitement that just has him give a smirk.

‘’I am doing this for us darling, I promise you will enjoy yourself’’ he whispered and as my mind screamed, my head moved forward while I supported myself on my knees and heels.

My tongue sticks out and strokes his tip, tasting his pre-cum already as I feel the arousal beginning to intensify between my legs. ‘I hate you.. I hate you I hate you I hate you..’ I yell as I take him into my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut as I concentrate on swirling my tongue and moaning against his cock, the mere vibration sending him to rest a hand against the wall behind me for support.

‘’you mean.. you love me..’’ he breathed as a smile could he heard with his words. ‘’you body betrays you darling, it wants me and soon your mind won’t be to far behind.. as much as I love your alluring, stubborn wit..’’

I tried to keep my mind blank, to think of mindless things that words as I fought to try to break the spell. It was almost as if he knew and did subtle things such as now and again, push his hips forward, wanting more of himself into my mouth before he would let me set the pace again when I would show small signs of chocking. His other hand sound itself in my hair now, keeping still but the grip was enough to rid of any thoughts I might be having on breaking out of this mindless puppet illusion.

My hands had to move to stroke the rest of his cock I couldn’t get into my mouth, hearing a pleased moan leave his lips as my eyes stole a peak. His head was leaned back, eyes closed with his mouth open a little as he took shallow breaths and his body shuddered now and again.

If this wasn’t some twisted fate, I would have thought that he looked beautiful right now. And just the mere thought of that, had his lips twitching up to a smirk while I feel his fingers grip more hair now as his hips began to thrust slightly into my mouth. He tried to be gentle, but I could feel him hit the back of my throat as I gripped his thighs and he moved both hands into my hair.

He was getting close, and I cursed my body for moaning against him, which only seemed to spur him on more as he seemed to be loosing himself. Tears pricked my eyes as I kept begging him in my mind to stop this, how he seemed to ignore my please all together and just focused on that one tiny, sliver of a thought that had flashed in my mind he just so managed to catch before I got rid of it.

I was turned on.

His thrusts now became sharper to the point where even my body curled my fingers against his thighs, getting a little uncomfortable as I struggled to breath properly and that seemed to dull my thoughts that just forced me to feel instead. Just as I let out a small whimper, Loki used his grip in my hair to pull me forward and backward repeatedly as he stilled his hips, having the manipulation of my head do the work before he shoved himself deep, causing my to gag around him, only in resulting at squeezing around his cock before I could feel him cum.

Hot spurts of his seed went right down my throat, giving rare chances at even tasting him when it went right down my throat directly. He shivered and gasped, his grip holding tight in my hair as he gave small thrusts and pull him to a slow halt of his high before he took an inhale.

With a small smile, he used my hair to pull me up to my feet, my hands at his to try to pry it off as pain began to sting and I froze as he looked upon me in amusement, using his other hand to grip my chin while few tears finally fell.

‘’I lessened the spell about 5 minutes ago darling. You could have bite, fought and struggled. But all you did was take me.. and you took me so well, how could you possibly expect for me to let you go now?’’ he tsked as he looked upon my face lovingly while my eyes widened.

Just before my muscles could flex or a single thought of fighting him could happen, I was shoved back, feeling the mattress come in contact with my back as I bounced and leaned on my elbows as I looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘’how.. y-you cant-‘’

‘’I’ll leave you as you are just this one time darling. So go ahead and fight, struggle, scratch,’’ he smirked, his hands slowly resting onto the mattress before his knees joined, slowly crawling his way towards me with a hand shooting out to grip my ankle.

‘’it only turns me on, and I need your mind properly whipped into shape if I am to have you rule this world beside me.. so lets get started.’’

•DM me for your own Musical Mischief One Shot ♥

Tag List: @foxherder @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz

#loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki smut #loki #lokifluff #loki x reader

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lonelydiary · 20 days ago

Text

15. Scotch

"Miss, you can't just storm in here! Miss Luthor, I've really tried to stop her..." Jess was a frustrated and stuttering mess.

"It's alright, Jess. Give us 5 minutes and if agent Danvers isn't done by that time you have my permission to call the security" Lena has said with a quiet reserved tone, sipping her scotch.

"Bold of you to assume, that we will be done after 5 minutes, Luthor" said Alex, after Jess had left them.

"Bold of you to assume, that you can simply march in my office, like you own the place" Lena sneered back.

"What are you doing, Lena?" there was a much softer tone in Alex's voice right now.

"In case you didn't notice, Alex, I'm drinking now" yes, a sarcasm was always Lena's best weapon.

"Oh, that I can see perfectly. What I don't understand is why you are destroying yourself like that."

"Oh, thats rich, coming from you, agent Danvers"

"Cut the bullshit, Lena. We are not talking about me right now. Do you honestly think, that drinking will help in your situation? Yours and Kara's situation?"

"You have NO right to tell me what to do. And don't pretend like you care about me, I don't believe you. You were lying to me, just like her. You all were lying."

"God dammit, Lena! I'm not your enemy, can't you see? I care about you! Kara cares about you! Don't you understand, that revealing her secret can lead to a tragedy?! For her, for you, for everyone she loves? I almost died last time someone knew, that Supergirl is my sister! Imagine, that will happen to you!"

"Need I to remind you, that I have multiple attempts to kill me on a daily basis? That's nothing new for me."

"Is that supposed to make us happier? Make Kara happier or less guilty, when she will be the cause of your injury or death? Lena, these past weeks she can't sleep, can't eat, she barely even talks to us!"

"Is that supposed to make me happier?"

"Miss Luthor, shall I call the security?" Jess's voice was sounding from the intercom.

"There's no need, I'm already leaving" said Alex. "Just think about this, ok? Kara hasn't said anything not because she wanted to humiliate or laugh behind your back. She hasn't said the truth, because she cares about you. Because she didn't want to loose you. She is lost without you, Lena. Just like you are lost without her. Don't let both of your mistakes destroy all good and wonderful, that you had. Will have".

And with that Alex was gone.

"Jess?"

"Yes, miss Luthor?"

"Please, clear my schedule and tell Frank to be ready in 5 minutes."

"Ok. I'm glad you are giving yourself a chance to be happy, miss Luthor"

"Thank you, Jess. I really hope so".

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorptober #supercorptober2024

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star-xxx1 · 2 years ago

Text

Their words and touch hurt like hell pt. 2

Wandanat x Avenger!reader

Carol x reader

Summary: Now that they have you back in their loving chokehold, they must secure you down with a lot of love.

Warnings: a lot of fluff, angst, thigh ridding, sexual acts, break ups...

Part one here

Today was the day, the dreaded Revist.

Your eyes fluttered opened only soon to close tightly, grimacing at the ray of sunshine that gleamed directly onto your subtle features, peaking through the black blinds.

Clasped tightly in the arms of the two women drowning you with so much love and affection.

You felt different, you felt truly happy, once back in there arms, since the play out of the women's damaging actions against you. Though, you really didn't want to, you had to leave the addicting pleasure that surged through your body when the two redheads held you close.

You were sandwiched in between the two Avengers, your leg was draped over Wanda's waist, her head planted firmly on your boobs, Natasha had her left arm snaked under your body placing her hand on your soft stomach for some very needed skin to skin touch, her right arm thrown over your hip reaching out for Wanda's hand to hold. You gawked at the site of the two redheads being so sweet.

You slowly and carefully moved out of their iron- like hold, freezing like a deer In headlights whenever they made the of smallest movements or noises. After you had succeed, you gently tiptoed to the bathroom to have a shower and get ready for the day.

After undressing and stepping into the shower letting the lukewarm water cascade down your tense muscles, you let at a sigh of relief, happy that today you would get a sense of closure from the revist, maybe poor girls screams would stop haunting you and your dreams.

Stepping out you reached for a towel, wrapping it tightly around your now cold body. You moved over to the marbel sink and stared in the mirror, thoughts rushed through your mind, we're you going to succeed? Was everything and everyone be okay? How many Hydra agents were they going to be?. Taking a deep breath you took out your skincare, and started your daily routine.

When finished you took a last quick glance over yourself. Opening the door you were startled by your two girlfriends standing there in very formal stances a silly grin set on both there faces.

"Fuck! Jeez, Don't do that!"

"Morning dekta" Natasha purred.

"Morning hunny! " Wanda quickly added.

"Morning" you mumble out while walking passed them, Stress levels starting to build up again.

Wanda let out a little frown at your reaction towards them. Both women followed you towards the walk in closest, since you didn't have anything to wear you had to chose out off their selection.

Running your hands through the many clothes, you selected a soft grey top, Upon finding black sweatpants you also found some of your underwear and bras that Carol must have missed while packing, You thanked God because you really didn't know what you would have done.

"Do you mind if I wear this?" You asked, showing them the selected outfit.

"Nope, not at all" Wanda replied whilst Natasha shook her head, not minding. Pleased with there respone you dropped your towel not caring if the to redheads left or not.

Natasha and Wanda's knees almost buckled at the sight of there oh so beautiful girlfriend naked. They missed you and your body and especially your whorish moans they only could unleash within you and this scene definitely did help there growing members.

The two redheads had to step out the room before fainting. After Slipping the fuzzy t-shirt on, you trekked out to see the Natasha and Wanda wrestling and laughing on the bed, making you playfully roll your y/e/c, alluring eyes.

Before you could pull open a the oak door, a raspy voice sounded.

"Hey where are you going dekta?" Natasha asked.

"Um I'm just going to the kitchen?"

"Stay with us please! We can cuddle?" Wanda tried her best to get you to stay, they wanted you at all times, plus they didn't want you to run into Carol.

"But I'm really hungry, I also need to go talk to the group about the revist." you visibly cringed at the thought of talking to Carol especially after finding out what she had done to sabotage the tough relationship you had sustained between the two redheads.

"N-uh" The Ex-spy tutted while shaking her head no, still straddling the witches hips. "I talked to Fury and convinced him to switch Carol over with Wanda, since he owns me a few favours, and I can grab food for the three of us."

"Really, Wanda is coming with me ?!" You squealed out in excitement.

"Yes, hunny" Wanda confirmed.

"Ah, Thank you!" You ran to the bed and threw yourself into your lovers.

Warm arms developed you into a tight embrace, humming at that pleasurable feeling that shot down your spine, your stomach grumbled filling the comfortable silence.

"Okay that's my sign to go get food" Nat chuckled while getting up. You and Wanda whined at the loss of her but quickly tangled up in each other trying to find the warmth that you both so desperately sought out.

Once that warmth finally returned, you let out a deep content sigh.

"Wanda, we have to go in three hours, are you sure your ready?"

"Yes sweetheart, I tried harder in training so when we got you back I would be the most obvious choice over Carol for the mission" Wanda explained pulling you more closer possessively. You were so thankful that Wanda was powered, before the whole false cheating scenario Wanda wasn't as powerful as she is now clearly over powering Carol. Since fury need a powered Avenger on this mission to overpower any inhumans that may go haywire.

"Okay, I just want to make sure that you would be safe" you replied back.

"I will, how about you try go back to sleep I will be here when you wake up baby" you nodded, your head against the witches neck. Soon you close your eyes and fell into peaceful slumber.

-------------------------------------------------------

The sound of plates being set down Awoke you from your light nap.

"I'm sorry dekta, but I have food!" Natasha said as she passed one of the plates to Wanda then another to you. Your mouth watered from the sight and smell of beautiful pancakes, You grabbed your knife and fork and dug right in, moaning at the taste.

"Is it good?" Nat asked, you answered by aggressively nodding your head yes.

The redhead head gave you that warm smile that you missed so dearly, that action of hers made your heart flutter. You gobbled up the rest of the plate, finishing every bite letting out a satisfied hum.

Wanda and Natasha soon finished there food. The witch got up and took each of your plates and headed down to the kitchen leaving both of with a caring kiss on the cheek.

Nat had a idea spring into mind, she wanted you right now, she was getting impatient from waiting so long. She pulled your form into a straddling position, each leg in-trapped her right thigh, hands firmly holding your waist, she leaned back on to headboard.

"Natasha what are you doing?"

"Shhh it's okay detka just trust me" the redhead whispered, moving you against her beefy thigh, you grabbed her arms letting out a small moan. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss her in a sexual way, you loved when her animalistic grunts and moans boomed across the room as she pounded away at you or when she filled you to the brim with her hot loads of cum.

The woman beneath you let out low grunts at the simulation of your knee rubbing against her clothed cock making her grind your hips harder down, making you moan.

"Natty" you stated quitely that hot feeling heating up more at your core.

Her eyes shot up from your clothed core, locking in with yours.

"What did you just call me?" She asked in shock, a hint of happiness laid in her tone, moving you faster.

"Natty" you moaned out at the increase of speed.

Her heart lit up in glee at the confirmed name, you only called her 'Natty' and Wanda 'Wands" when completely on good terms with them, after agurments it took you a while to start calling them the sweet Nicknames again. She was absolutely dumbfounded by how quick you came around. Her left hand came up to the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss filled with loved and passion. Only pulling away when you started gasping for air, a cat like grin spreaded across her face.

"Natasha Romanoff" you said in a serious tone looking straight into her eyes, making her movements come to a halt.

"Yes, dekta?" Her tone of voice came out unsure.

"I have a mission, I can't go out if you give me jelly legs because you decided to destroy me, I promise you we can have sex when I get back from the revist, plus Wands isn't here that not very fair is it" You said while giving her a cheeky look.

"But I miss you, I miss you so much" she answered back, putting her face in the crook of your soft neck, pulling you into an embrace that you happily returned.

"I miss you to but you don't have to wait that long" you tried to make her feel better, holding the avenger in her more vulnerable state.

"Promise?" She inquired.

"Promise Natty"

Your head whipped around to the door as it slowly opened.

"It's just me" The witch reassured you.

"Wands!" You shouted out happy to see one of your loves. Nat met Wanda's shocked gaze laughing at the face she was making.

"What? Wait what did you just call me?" She questioned.

"Wands?" You were clearly confused. A big smile now present on her face as she made her way to the bed to snuggle up against Nat.

"How about we watch some netflix, mabye y/f/s" asked wanda.

"Yes!" You cheerfully called out. Nat re-positioned you so that you were in between her legs laid back against her front, her strong but careful hands arms wrapped your waist, Wanda cuddle into both of your sides, holding your hand.

Once set and comfortable you grabbed the sleek remote, opened Netflix and selected y/f/s, happy to be in presence of your two girlfriends.

-------------------------------------------------------

Time flew by fast, you three were only broken out of the hypnotic trance the tv pulled you into by F.R.I.D.A.Y speaking through the speakers.

"Agent Y/l/n and Miss Maxioff, Director Fury would like you down at the quinjet bay in 15 minutes".

"Okay, thank you F.R.I.DA.Y" You replied back to the AI.

You wined as you crawled off the bed, almost screaming at the realization that your mission suit was in Yours and Carol's room.

"Guy's, my suit is with Carol." You sheepishly said turning back, hands on knees, to meet there eye's. Once your words hit them those love filled pupils turned pools of frustration. They really didn't want you near that 'bitch'.

"You can go get it dekta but we're coming with you" Nat announced, eyes dark.

"Okay, Thank you!" You ushered out, getting off the bed and onto your feet, clearly in a rush.

You looked back to see your two redheads still lying there. There's eyes darting from you back to each to each other's gaze, a mischievous look on both there faces.

"please can we hurry? " you asked hoping to get a reaction from the women.

But they just continued staring at each other, still that stupid look on there face. You were confused, the only conclusion you could come up with was that Wanda was using her powers to communicate with Natasha mentally.

'We should, I think it we be a good idea' Wanda agreed with Nat.

'Okay, witch' she teased, making wands chuckle.

Both soon joined your standing form, each beside you.

"Umm okay why are you so quite?" You whimpered out, sightly threaten by their eyes which burned into you.

All the sudden two pair of lips crashed down either side of your neck, roughly sucking and nipping, you moaned at the sudden sensation.

"Guys" you tried to warn them but it only came out quite.

Slightly they upped there aggressiveness against your smooth skin, wanting to leave dark hickeys for Carol to see, causing you to wince slightly. Around 30 seconds later the two redheads finally unlatched off your poor skin, steping back to analyse there masterpiece. Two huge angry, redish-purple marks showed on your skin, both made noise of approval and Nat handed you the spare hair band on her wrist.

"Here dekta, put your hair up" she said so softly causing your stomach to erupt with butterfly's. They wanted everyone to see the marks they had inflicted on you, they couldn't risk your hair covering them. Taking the hair band, you pulled your sliky hair into a high ponytail leaving two sections of hair at the front.

"Thanks Natty" you smiled at her.

"No problem, let's go get your suit". Nat replied. You grabbed both hands of your lovers and made your out the door and down the hall.

"We'll stay outside" they did not want to go near her "If anything happends just call us and we'll coming run" Wanda stated.

"Okay, thanks guys!" Their words ressured you since Carol can get very possessive at times. You stole one last kiss from each women either side of you guarded you like a it was a life and death situation.

You Knocked.

No response.

Knocked again.

No response. You placed your hand on the cold steal handle and hesitating at first, you soon opened the door. Upon entering you found Carol curled up on your and her's her bed fast asleep, in a large hoodie and shorts, hugging your old pillow tightly. As you moved closer to her sleeping frame your noticed the tear stains on her red cheeks.

Strangely no love rose when you saw her just pure hatred for her.

she did this to you.

She put everyone in this situation.

It's her fault.

You quickly walked to the closet and grabbed all your clothes, including your suit and stuffed it into your lagre backpack, which you found laying on the floor and threw it over your shoulder.

Happy that you had got every item of clothing back, you rushed out the closet and into the room. Every thing was going smooth until the closet door slammed shut.'Shit' you thought to yourself, you didn't mean to use that much strength.

She started stirring as you stood there in pure fear.

"Y/n/n?" She questioned out loud, but you kept your mouth shut, hoping she would go back to sleep. "Baby?" She asked again rubbing her eyes and sitting up, her vision was a bit blurry but soon her eyes adjusted and she saw you.

"Y/n!" she sprung off the bed and ran to you, pulling you into a tight hug, your head landing right on her chest.

Nat and Wanda heard the blonde scream out your name in excitement. The two women bodies boiled with anger. Both decided to peak through the little crack the door made from you not shutting it fully.

"My princess I missed you, so much, I was worried sick all night!" She pulled away at looked down at you, noticing your hickeys.

"Did they hurt you more? Are you okay? What happened? Did you-" She stopped as she noticed tears roll down your cheeks. These tears aren't sadness, no these were tears of fustration and anger. How could someone that you loved so much do this this to you.

"Hey, princess what's wrong?" she asked with a love filled tone. Both her hands now cupping your cheeks wiping away your tears.

"Carol" you paused, her heartbeat picks up at the lost of the nickname 'Care bare'.

"I want to break up, I know what you did, Carol you accused me for cheating, you did all this, you're the reason I got hurt" Your voice laced so much anger.

Everything stopped as soon as you finished your sentence, her heart plunged In to the depths of her body. It was like time froze only to be replaced with true terror, she felt truly sick to her stomach, her head becoming dizzy. The world started spinning.

"No..." She whispered hands falling besides her body.

"No" a increase In her tone appear, tears now swelling up in her eyes.

"No" she shook her head, trying to deny this brutal reality.

"No no no no" she held her head like she was going crazy, almost shouting at you.

"Carol I have to-" You were cut of by the blonde.

"No! Your not going anywhere!" She shouted at you. Her tears now free falling, noticing that you had flinched at her big reaction, she tried to calm herself down.

Taking a big breath she shut her eyes and ran through her opinions. She knew she had to get you back.

Her hands came up to your face, once again cupping your cheeks. She looked you dead in the eyes and started..

"Y/n, baby your just having a bad day, you need me, you love me, I love you so much baby please don't go, don't I make you feel good?, we can work this out together, please I love you so much, what can I do baby so you don't go?, please..." She started sobbing when she ended her devotion of love to you.

You really just wanted this done with, you didn't love her anymore.

"Carol.."

"Please... I'll make you feel good"

"Carol" you said firmly.

"Please, y/n I love you so much! " she begged.

"Carol, I don't love you anymore, stop this".

Carol wasn't giving up this easily. In her mind it was universe laws for you two to be together.

She crashed her lips into yours, you tried to pull away but her grip on your face was to strong.

Carol suddenly flew back, Red mist surrounding her body.

"She ours" Natasha said in a dark tone, storming in with the witch behind her, magic surrounding her hand. The ex- assassin wrapped her arm around your waist, leading you out the room.

With a flick of Wanda wrist the blonde was silenced and pain started surging throughout her body.

"Are you okay, dekta?" she asked as she led you back to your room.

"Yes, Natty" you gave her a kind, ressuring smile.

She kindly opened the door and delicately sat you on the bed and got your mission suit out for your bag.

"Here you go dekta" she said in the warmest tone, handing you the. In your two girlfriends eyes you were strong but sensitive soul, knowing that you don't like being shouted out from past traumatic experiences. When you didn't respond but just continued staring into the distance Natasha started to get worried.

"Dekta?" Her hand on now your shoulder, breaking you out of the small trance.

"Yeah?" You questioned, now looking her at.

"Are you okay love?" Her concern building up.

"Yeah Natty" takng the suit and standing up to get dress.

Wanda finally came in gentley shuting the door.

"Hi love's" she announced.

"Hi baby" Natasha replied.

Wanda went to the closet and grabbed her mission suit, joining you, changing into it.

When done you grabbed Natasha with all you might and pulled her into a big hug.

"Bye Natty I love you so much" you said, so much Kindness in your voice. Before she could even speak you stood up on your tiptoes and smashed your lips into hers shoving your tounge to her mouth. A moan escaped her lips which you happily swallowed, before she could deepen the kiss you pulled away with a dumb smirk on your face. Quickly moving a hand down to her crotch grabbing it, you narrowed your eyes and met her gaze.

"Mabye you can use this on me later ?" You asked in seductive tone, then you pulled away, going to find your shield badge. She was shocked at your boldness usally it was her or Wanda who made the first move never you. The witch pulled Natasha out her shock induced trance with a peck to the lips and a tight hug.

"Bye nat, love you" Wanda pressed a warm kiss onto her check before going to your waiting form, grabbing your hand and interlocking fingers.

"Bye guys I love you too" Nat blowed a kiss over to you guys.

"Bye Natasha, we will be home soon" Wanda smiled, so did you.

-------------------------------------------------------

You and Wanda finally reached the quintet bay after passing through large marble hallways, many public sitting rooms, the Avengers library and a few elevators, during all of this Wanda never let go of your hand.

Stepping out side you took a deep breath of air, basking in the feeling of freshness. Taking in all the beautiful scenery that you passed, sometimes you even wondered how you ended up here, The compound was truly a breathtaking place, you were especially lucky that you got to live here.

Finally reaching the steps of the bay, you breath hitched In your throat, anxiety building up in your stomach.

"Ah My favorite agent and My favorite sorcerer, Maxioff, welcome" Fury greeted you and your girlfriend. A smile spread across you face at the mans comment, helping ease your nerves.

He was like a dad to you, he took you under his wing once finding you all black and blue from the hands of Hydra.

"I hope you have a safe journey there and back" the director told you.

"Thank you" Wanda gleamed at the man before her.

Before you could even register what was going on she was dragging you into the quinjet.

Your whole day lighten up when seeing Maria sitting up at the control panel for flying the jet.

"Mia!" You sprinted up behind her chair wrapping your arms around her neck, pushing the side of your face into hers.

"Hi y/n/n! how are you?" She asked, moving her hands up to hold your arms, happy to see you.

"Good just a bit nervous, you? " you laughed out.

"Aww you'll be alright I promise and I'm okay thank you" she responsed trying to comfort you. Wanda watch this scene unfold In front of her with a cold glare. She didn't mind Maria at all, she was good friends with her but she just wished that your attention would be on her right now. You walked back to Wanda leaving maira to prepare for take off, not wanting g to distract her further.

Seeing that she had sat down you moved to sit next to her only to be blocked by her hand and a disproving tut.

"Sit here instead sweetheart" Wanda demanded patting her lap. She craved your touch constantly. To her it was like a precious drug that was heavily addicting. Humming in acknowledgment you plopped yourself down on her lap, wrapping your arms around her neck, digging your face into the crook of her neck. As soon you were situated she wrapped her arms around your body.

"Ready, guys?" Maria's questioned.

"Yes" Wanda answered.

Maria pressed the start button for the engine. You felt the grumbling from the jet, your heart was pounding, you really did hope that you wouldn't fail this time, but with Wanda but your side you felt more confident.

-------------------------------------------------------

Hiii sorry this took so long!

Pt. 3 here

#natasha marvel #nat x you #nat x reader #wandanat x you #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha #angst natasha #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda imagine #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha angst #natasha romanoff comfort #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years ago

Text

Haven

Pairing: Sam Wilson x shield agent female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1300 words

Outline: Former shield agent now working in secret for the nomad team so why is your heart flattering when you have to take care of your former flame?

Warnings: tiny angst, reunion sex, swearing, pet names, food mention, movie inaccuracies, breast worship, biting, male ejaculation. if I missed anything major please let me know!

Author’s Note: infinity war! sam au is here! Loved the angsty emotional angle very much. sam thots and especially about aus are always welcome :) next on the to be written list are 1st bf!, sugardaddy!, samnat & the alphabet.

PS: dividers & banners by @saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

A year after the whole airport Avengers scene has left you scattered broken and unemployed. Working a few odd jobs here and there as a former shield agent and an expert skillful agent have you picking jobs from the black market and trying your best to help and protect the nomad team.

Your base right now is on a small island in the pacific ocean and when in the middle of the night you receive a red alert for immediate excavation you are more than ready to help. What you didn't expect was your former flame, Sam Wilson to be the recipient of the help. He looked injured & bloody as he was walking out of the quinjet, getting invincible behind him.

"Sam!" You exclaim running to him. He shrugs his shoulders and smiles softly. "Aliens." He stops you before you could even speak. "The rest of the team are elsewhere, safe. And I am hoping to be now. As long..." he gestures around. "You got a nice meal and a warm bed for me to lay on."

"Of course, Sam. I got everything." Your heart is warming up, you never expected to see him like this, on his own, looking charming as ever even though you could tell the impact was severe.

You bring him to your small house and allow him to shower as you put his suit in a basket letting it soak with soap hopefully, that will wash off the blue alien blood. Then you decide to cook something simple, rice and meatballs, by the time you're done and setting the table he's coming around with just a towel around his lower body.

"So...you don't do clothes in this house?" You laugh even if you try to avert your gaze from staring at his body too much. He looks uninjured, the only visible scars now were on his face. Looks like he needs better head protection.

"I forgot!" You shake your shoulders and head for the closet. "Oh really, did something distract you?"

"No, I was focused on cooking."

"Ah-huh. I believe that." He smiles and sniffs up the air. "Meatballs?"

"The only good thing I know how to make."

"Hmm, you did also make amazing boiled eggs."

You snort as you pick up a pillow and throw it at him. He doesn't catch it as he lets it fall on the floor.

"I know you wanna see me naked, baby."

You scoff in response and throw at him the clothes you picked for him. "Nu huh." You place your hands over your eyes and smile. "Not one bit."

"Ah sure. I see you peeking."

And that's how the rest of the night, now early morning went, Sam got dressed had some food, recited stories to you, described very vividly how alien-y the aliens were, and in the end fell asleep. The rest of the three days went on like this, with the flirtations and the teasing getting more and more psychical until you knew it was time for him to leave again and you almost felt your heart sinking in your chest.

You watch him as he sleeps, breathing slowly in and out, shirtless with just a blanket around his legs, looking more peaceful than ever.

"Ya know you can tell when someone stares at you."

You scoff and cross your arms rolling your eyes.

"I just wanted to see if you had fallen asleep."

"Sounds like something that takes no more than one second. You've been sitting there for more than five minutes." He finally opens his eyes and rolls over looking at you and crossing his arms. God his muscular arms looked delicious like that. You wanted nothing more than to curl up there with him. Safe and secure inside his embrace.

Second instincts kick in and you roll your eyes again before turning around to leave. You only make it a few steps before he grabs you by your arm and turns you around pushing you against the wall. He doesn't speak, just stares deeply into your eyes as you are breathing short and heavily, your body responding to him in an extreme way. You needed him, you loved him.

"Sam." You mumble trying to regain your composure. His arm stays tauntingly above your head his other hand still holding your wrist, checking your heart pulses.

"I like clear answers."

"Sam, don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"I'm not doing anything. I was sleeping."

You scoff and close your eyes in frustration. What's the point of this? He has to leave, he has to help the world. You needed to stay here, act as a safe haven.

"I should pack your essentials." You say directly looking at him.

"No." He retorts and then crushes his lips against yours, leaving you both surprised and ridiculously drenched for him. He only kisses you once before pulling away to watch your reaction again.

"Sam." You repeat, his breath hot on your tongue, your chest finally filling with air. Your hand is on his chest caressing it, he seems to be getting calmer. "I...please, don't regret me."

"Never." He shakes his head. "Never. I've missed you, I could never regret you." His lips land on yours again, soft and velvety, with the utmost sweetness full of life and adoration.

You remember these lips, memories come alive in your head as his hands begin to wander on your body. He needs to touch you everywhere at once as your hands respond in the same way. He engulfs with his body, his kisses turning to bites on your jaw and further down your neck, as a moan escapes you, filling the air of the small room. Suddenly, you are sure of every little thing in the world and you allow him to take control.

And he wastes no time, tearing your clothes apart with his arms and teeth, biting your breasts, pulling your nipples, kissing your chest as your hand stays stroking his hard-on over his sweatpants until he cursed and pulled his pants down himself. And he almost hissed when you touched his cock, his teeth still playing with your nipples, one hand moving to your core, rubbing it slowly.

"Shit, baby, looks like a job for a plumber down here." You giggle at his line which quickly changed to a gasp as the cold air hit you when he undressed you followed by a moan as he pushed a curled finger inside.

"Oh looks like we need to do a lot of work down here." You let your head hit the wall. "Looks like we gonna need a tool." He nods his head and replaces his finger with his cockhead which has you dropping to a low sound.

"Oh, looks good." He pushes inside, stretching your walls, your hands wrapping around his neck. "Oh, such a tight hole, think that's the problem here, need some good fucking to get properly fixed." You giggled at his goofiness as he started doing what he was best at - screwing you silly.

A couple of minutes later and in many different sex positions he has you on the couch, laying under him as his hands cup your face, his thrusts slow and sensual and even though he has already drawn orgasm after orgasm of you, he still remains full. You know he has planned something. Something hella corny.

So when he finally orgasms, he does it looking deep inside your eyes, shooting his seed down your stomach as he repeats your name almost like a chant, resting his forehead against yours.

And when the morning comes, he doesn't leave your home.

Because you are his home.

His safe haven.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#selenewrites #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson smut #sam wilson fic #captain america #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson oneshot #infinity war

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fandom-imagines-stories · 1 year ago

Text

Annapolis

Season Two Episode Nine

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 4574

Series Masterlist

Summary: Based on season four episode 24. Y/N breaks protocol when Spencer is infected with a deadly virus.

Notes: Like usual, I’m going to be using some scenes from the episode (Amplification) and making some up for the story. I know that this definitely isn’t super realistic and that Y/N would definitely just be arrested or something, but it’s all *for the plot.*

You focused on the twirl of your spoon in the mug while several expectant gazes wore you down from across the table. The spring morning filled the air with a slight breeze, but you felt heat rise in your face under the three agent’s stares.

“What?” You asked innocently.

Emily raised a brow, JJ gave you a knowing smile, and Penelope looked ready to burst.

You took a sip of your coffee. “Have I mentioned how much I hate profilers?”

“It’s not our fault that loverboy has a terrible poker face,” Emily said.

Penelope beamed. “He’s been over the moon for weeks now and I can think of one specific reason that would make him act that way.”

You blushed, shaking your head but couldn’t hide your smile.

“So you are back together!” Penelope squealed, earning a few glances from other cafe patrons.

“We’re still figuring things out,” you said. You held your coffee in your hands, letting the warmth meet your palms as you rolled it back and forth nervously. “It’s not as simple as it used to be.”

“You love him. He loves you. That seems pretty simple to me,” she said. JJ and Emily gave her a look. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been heartbroken for them for the past six months.”

“Y/N’s right,” JJ said. “Things like this aren’t easy in a relationship. It takes time.”

Emily nodded in agreement, though Penelope couldn’t stop grinning at you. You decided to throw her a little bit of a bone, so to speak.

“We started reading again, which has been nice,” you started. You felt a little like a schoolgirl describing her first date, but maybe a little juvenile lightness was what you all needed. “Sherlock Holmes. I think it helps us sleep better.”

“Does this mean you’re moving back in?” Emily wondered.

“And miss out on sleeping on my brother’s air mattress? Why would I ever do that?” You snarked.

She chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Penelope gushed. “I love love.”

“Speaking of which, enough about me,” you said. “What about you and Kevin?”

While she went into an excited ramble about her boyfriend not moving across seas on a new job, the final member of your coffee date- and your sometimes roommate- walked up to the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” Haley grimaced. “I had to take Jack to school and the parking lot there is a nightmare.”

“Oh my god, that reminds me,” JJ said, turning to you. “How is Hotch? He went for a bit of a spin on our last case.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s fine. Or at least that’s what he says every time I ask, which I wouldn’t have to do if he didn’t use his SVU as a battering ram.”

“He does have a knack for head injuries, doesn’t he?” Haley laughed.

“Good thing he has a thick skull,” Emily teased.

“Har har.” You took another drink of coffee. “All I’m saying is that I would love to go one week without one of you guys doing something stupidly heroic and almost dying.”

JJ laughed, shaking her head. “Good luck with that.”

Whatever light mood was left from that morning quickly evaporated as the team stood around the table, a container of pills in each hand. They didn’t even know if the Cipro would be effective. A new strain, Dr. Kimura said. Men in military uniforms bustled around the bullpen.

The weight of what was going on settled into everyone’s minds.

“This is really happening?” Prentiss uttered.

Hotch nodded. “We knew this could happen,” he said gravely. “We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it.” He dumped the pills into his mouth.

Rossi held up his cup.

“Jin dan,” he toasted. “May you live a hundred years.”

The rest of the team took the medicine and tried not to imagine what would happen if it didn’t work. With their assignments in mind, everyone started to disperse, but Reid stayed toward the back. Dr. Kimura gave him a grim nod as she left with the others. He hid the fear that was clouding his mind.

He pulled Hotch aside as they walked out.

“Y/N has an interview with an inmate awaiting trial at JRDC,” he whispered. “That’s in Annapolis.”

Hotch swallowed. “I know.”

“And you don’t think we should tell her not to go?” Reid exclaimed.

“We can’t.”

“We have no idea where the unsub will strike next. What if she goes out for lunch in a crowded area and-”

“Reid.” Hotch stared at him intensely. “We can’t. The media blackout order means nobody can know. If this gets out, people will panic.”

He knew he was right. Reid wanted to remain detached and logical, but all he could think about was the image of the woman he loved choking on her own blood.

“I’m just getting her back, Hotch,” he pleaded. “I can’t risk losing her again.”

Hotch put a hand on his shoulder. “Then we focus on solving this as quickly as possible.” He hid his own terror behind a mask. Inside, he was just as worried as the younger agent and wanted nothing more than to tell Y/N not to leave the apartment. He wanted to call Haley and tell her to pick up Jack from school. He wanted to protect his team from the danger they were facing. But he couldn’t. “Now let’s get started.”

While Hotch stayed at the office-turned-base of operations, Reid went with Dr. Kimura to speak with the surviving victims of the attack in the park. All the while, both had you in the back of their mind.

Unaware of the situation, you drove into Annapolis with Sir Arthur Conan Doyal in your head. Spencer’s voice reading the words of the brilliant detective made you smile. The sun streamed into your windows and traffic couldn't even seem to bother you. It was a perfect morning.

You were about to pull into the Jennifer Road Detention Center parking lot when your phone rang. It was Sonia.

“Hey, I know you’ve already driven out, but I just got a call from the warden. Apparently, Sergio Marks got into a fight this morning and is in critical condition,” she explained.

“You’re kidding,” you sighed. “And here I was looking forward to being stuck in a room with an accused wife killer.”

Despite your sarcasm, you were actually kind of bummed to miss out on the interview. With Marks’ court date coming up, you’d been hoping to compare his behavior before and during the trial.

“I’ll head back then,” you said. “I’ve got some other cases I can look into today.”

“The other studies can wait,” Sonia said. “Why don’t you take the day off?” Before you could argue, she continued. “You’ve been working like a dog ever since you got back. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You don’t have to prove anything to me, sweetie. You could spend some time with that cute FBI boyfriend of yours.”

“I think they’re on a case,” you laughed.

“Then take some time to just breathe, honey. I know Maryland isn’t exactly a vacation spot, but I’m sure you’ll find something there. I heard there’s a nice bookstore in town,” she said. “Your work will be here when you get back.”

“I guess I can go shopping or something,” you shrugged. She was right. Annapolis wasn’t a big city, but you should be able to find something to entertain yourself. Besides, you’d probably just go home and worry about the BAU while they were on whatever case they had now.

“I’ll sort things out with Marks. Have a nice time.” Sonia hung up, leaving you with the rest of the day to relax.

Prentiss stood amongst the bustle of people, staring into the bookstore as the men in hazmat suits closed the blinds. If they found evidence of the virus, it was proof that the bookstore was the site of the unsub’s test run.

The victims had died within three hours of being admitted to the hospital.

Morgan hung up the phone with JJ. Prentiss looked at all of the civilians surrounding them.

“Look at all these people just going about their lives,” she said. “If they only knew what we were doing here.”

Morgan scowled. “It’s better that they don’t.” He said something else, but Prentiss couldn’t hear him. Her scanning eyes settled on a familiar face across the street.

“Oh my god,” she muttered. “Is that Y/N?”

Morgan turned his head just as you noticed them. To both of their dread, you crossed the street, a beaming smile spread across your face.

“Hey strangers,” you greeted, seeming more chipper than Derek had seen you in a while. “What are you guys doing here?” From their serious expressions, it only took you a moment to understand. “Oh.”

“Why are you here?” Derek asked.

“I was going to look at some books, but the store owner apparently got really sick and died a few days ago…” You trailed off, making more connections in your mind. “Is that why the team is here?”

The two exchanged a look.

It didn’t take your degree in psychology to realize that they were scared.

“Derek, talk to me.”

They both seemed to receive a message through their earpieces. Derek pulled you aside, weary of the attention of bystanders picking up on the tension in your tone.

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “We just can’t talk about the case.”

The firmness in his tone and the tightness of his grip told you everything and nothing at the same time.

“Okay,” you nodded. Your eyes went to the bookstore behind him and it’s closed blinds. Something was going on. “Be careful, okay?”

“Always am.” He faked his usual smirk, hoping to calm you down.

“I guess I’ll see you back in D.C.” You smiled to convince him he had.

If you weren’t going to interview a murderer, then maybe you could figure out what the hell had two of the toughest people you knew terrified.

Whatever it was, no one would answer their phone. Aaron was radio silence and you hadn’t heard from Spencer since earlier in the morning. You checked the news every couple of minutes to see if anything had leaked, but all you could find was something about a park being shut down for methane in the sewers.

“That must be connected,” you muttered to yourself. You kept racking your brain for something that made sense. If it were a bomb threat, Derek and Emily wouldn't have just been standing around waiting for it to explode. A shooter, they probably wouldn’t have kept it under wraps as intensely as they were.

The only thing that you could think of was chemical or biowarfare. If someone was going after people with some kind of poisonous gas or airborne antigen, it might explain why everything had to be kept such a secret. And the government could have called in the BAU to help them find who was responsible before they struck again.

You tried your brother again, but there was still no answer. Something was definitely wrong.

“If no one is going to help me,” you said, pulling up to the library, “then I am going to help myself.”

Morgan and Reid observed the house with an uneasy air between them. It looked so normal, but inside more agents and scientists were tirelessly searching for traces of the disease or mediums to transport it. So far, they hadn’t turned up anything.

“This guy just had people over for a charity event last month,” Morgan noted. Something about all of this felt off. Too simple.

“We should probably take a look around anyway,” Reid said.

The two agents started down the driveway to the other side of the house. So focused on the matter at hand, Reid caught his hand on a rose bush along the path. The thorn scratched the back of his hand, creating a gash he chose to ignore.

“So Y/N’s in the area,” Morgan said grimly. “Prentiss and I saw her when we were checking out the bookstore.” He shook his head, eyebrow quirked in a mildly impressed expression. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she figures all this out even with the media blackout.”

“She’s taught a course on bio-terrorism, so I’m sure she’ll pick up on something,” Reid shrugged. He’d been trying not to think about you and had been unsuccessful. Just knowing you could get caught up in all this made it hard to focus on anything else. But Hotch was right. The sooner this was solved, the sooner you’d be out of harm’s way. “But the higher-ups seem to have this pretty locked down. I’m sure she’s just going about her day like any other.”

Morgan eyed him. “Right.”

The older agent’s phone rang and he answered, listening as Prentiss told him what they’d figured out at the lab.

Reid continued on through the garden, jumping as a sprinkler spouted to life. The sound of the water covered whatever Morgan was saying. The sliding door to the garden led into what he quickly recognized as Dr. Nichols’ office. From there, he saw two things and processed them in the same thought.

The first was the body of Dr. Lawrence Nichols. A large head wound and a pool of drying blood signaled that the scientist had been dead for a while.

The second was a broken vial spilling white powder onto the floor.

“Reid?” Morgan called after him.

He didn’t think of anything after that. He just rushed to the door and slid it closed just as Morgan caught up with him.

“Morgan get back,” he exclaimed. “Get back!”

“What are you doing?”

“Get out of here. Believe me. Get back.” All he could think about was keeping Morgan away from the substance he was sure had already infected himself.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, panic rising in his tone. “Reid, open the door.”

Reid just looked at him, locking the door with eyes that betrayed his distress. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked with the toppling realization of what this really meant.

He breathed in the substance. He contracted this new, terrifying strand of anthrax.

He was going to die.

No. Reid ran a shaking hand down his face. He could figure this out. There had to be a cure. He could do this.

“I’m calling Hotch,” Morgan said, pacing hurriedly in front of the glass.

“I’ll be fine,” Reid lied. “I have all of Nichols’ notes. I can find the cure.”

“We’re getting you to the hospital.”

Reid shook his head. “You need to get away. I don’t know if any of the powder got into the air.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Morgan, now!” The firmness in the younger agent’s voice took Morgan by surprise.

He moved out to the garden, making sure Reid was still in view, and made the call.

By the time Hotch and the others arrived, Reid had made up his mind. And, despite Morgan’s protests, their unit chief agreed that the best thing for Reid to do was to work to find the cure somewhere in the lab.

Until a car pulled up across the street, having followed the sirens after spending most of the afternoon researching locals in the library.

You spotted the dark hair and neat suit as you came up the sidewalk. People in hazmat suits hurried in and out of the house your brother stood in front of. He bore a similar expression to what you’d seen on the other BAU members earlier, only now Morgan looked even worse standing beside him.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry this is a restricted area.” A man in uniform stepped in front of you.

“I know them,” you muttered, trying to look over his shoulder.

He grabbed your arm. “If you won’t leave voluntarily, I’ll have to remove you.”

“What’s going on?”

“Ma’am-”

“Aaron!”

Your brother’s head whipped around at the sound of his name and his expression went from controlled worry to a furious glare in no time.

“Okay so this is bad,” you said to yourself.

“I’m going to have to take you back to your car,” the man in uniform sighed, starting to pull you away.

“Get off of me.” You tried to yank away, but his grip was firm. “Aaron! See, I know them.”

The man kept pulling you backward until another voice shouted at him.

“Hey, let her go!” Agent Morgan ordered, darting across the lawn over to you.

Aaron walked slowly, but you could tell by the tension in his movements that he was anything but calm.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?” Derek snapped.

“I knew something was wrong so I did some digging and then I followed the sirens,” you said, still trying to free your arm from the soldier. “What the hell is going on?”

“I told her she had to leave-” The soldier tried pulling again.

Derek put a hand on his arm. “I said let her go.”

The man hesitated, but eventually released you and went to join one of his superiors.

“This clearly isn’t a normal case,” you said, crossing your arms. “What’s happening?”

“If I could tell you, I would have, but you really can’t be here.” His jaw tensed and his eyes flicked down to the necklace you always wore. A locket in the shape of a book. The present you’d gotten from Spencer.

A shock of icy fear rushed through you. “Derek, where’s Spence?”

“You can’t be here.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s inside,” Aaron said. From the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, you knew.

“This is Dr. Lawrence Nichols’ house,” you said.

“Yes.”

“He wrote studies on anthrax.”

Aaron sighed. “Yes.”

“How did you know that?” Derek asked.

“You're not the only ones who know how to investigate something,” you said. You pushed past them, following the trail of panicked people in hazmat suits around the house, just where you could see a glass door.

Aaron caught you before you could get any closer.

“I have to see him.” You fought against his arms as they locked around you. “Let me go, Aaron.”

“We don’t know if there are still traces of the substance outside of the lab. Even if it’s sealed we can’t-”

“I don’t care. I can’t just leave him in there. Do you know what this will do to his body? I’ve studied anthrax, Aaron. I can’t just… I can’t…”

“The best thing you can do for Reid is let him work.” Your brother turned you around, keeping his hands on your arms so you couldn’t get away. “He’ll find the cure and he’ll be fine.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t still be here, waiting for him to die,” you snapped.

Aaron swallowed, closed his eyes, and didn’t say anything else.

“Keep an eye on her,” he told Derek. “We still have to find the apprentice.”

He stormed off and Derek gave you a look that said he’d stop you before you even thought of taking another step.

Inside, Spencer held his cell phone with a trembling hand and coughed in between his words.

On the other end, a saddened voice greeted him, lacking her usual pep.

“Hey, Reid.”

“Reid, wow,” he teased. “No witty Garcia greeting for me?”

Garcia grimaced, trying to laugh for him. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

He took a deep breath. While part of his brain was scrambling to figure out where Nichols might have the cure that could save him, the other side was plaguing his thoughts of who he was leaving behind.

What would happen to his mom? How many times would the nurses have to tell her that her only son was dead before her brain allowed her to realize it? And even if she did, how long before she would forget and have to go through the grief all over again?

And then there was Y/N.

Just when things started looking better…

“Garcia,” he said, holding back a fit of coughing, “do you think you could do something for me?”

You didn’t know how long you sat there, waiting to hear whether or not the area had been cleared. Derek stayed with you and you explained how you figured out what was going on.

“You scare me sometimes, you know that?” He teased.

He was on and off the phone. You could tell it was with Spence by the way Derek’s eyes kept slipping over to you as he talked. But telling Spencer you were there before they figured anything out would only distract him. At least, that’s what Derek kept telling you.

After a while, Dr. Kimura called Derek back and said he could talk to Spencer. Despite your protests, he told you to wait and so you stood back while he went inside. You could hear Spencer’s voice, but your brain wouldn’t focus on what they were saying. You just wished you could hold him again.

His coughing may as well have been a flatline in your ears.

“Go help Hotch,” he told Derek.

Spencer stood with his arms at his side as he was sprayed down. His hair hung limply around his face and his purple shirt now clung to his chest.

Morgan shook his head. “Hotch has plenty of people helping him.

“He needs you more than I do.”

“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.” Derek caught you in the corner of his eye, stepping closer to the doorway.

“I’m about to get naked,” Spencer said, leveling an irritated stare on the other agent’s face. “So they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?”

Derek looked from you to Spencer to Dr. Kimura. He waved his hand, motioning for you to come in.

“Can she stay with him?”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Who is this?” Kimura asked. “Is she another member of your team?”

Derek scoffed, giving you a small smirk. “She may as well be.” He nodded at the scientist. “Take care of him.”

He hurried off, patting your back as he went.

Your eyes didn’t leave Spencer. In other circumstances, you might have laughed. He looked like a wet puppy with his dripping hair and soaked clothes. But another cough escaped his lips and his hazel stare burned into you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked again.

“Would you believe me if I said I was in the neighborhood?”

“This isn’t funny. You can’t be here,” he said. “Protocol aside, do you have any idea how dangerous this situation is?” His shoulders jerked with another cough. He unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes.

“I don’t care how many rules I’m breaking, I’m not leaving you.” You held up a hand. “I’m safer here than out there waiting for this guy to strike again.”

His frown deepened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably, hands reaching for his belt.

“Can you…?” He trailed off.

“Oh,” you blinked. “Right. Yeah.” You turned away, listening to the water against his now bear skin.

He felt ridiculous, being self-conscious now when you’d seen him without his clothes on plenty of times. But this felt different. He’d let himself fall into this problem and somehow, shielding you from seeing him this way, seeing him so weak, made it easier in his head. He could face it as long as you didn’t have to.

Dr. Kimura allowed you to ride with them to the hospital as long as you stayed out of the way. But now, seeing him in the hospital shirt with sweat glistening on his forehead, you knew you couldn’t just sit there.

“Is there anything I can do?” You begged.

“We’re going to test Nichols’ inhaler to see if he hid the cure there like Dr. Reid suggested,” Dr. Kimura explained. She put a stethoscope to Spencer’s chest as he continued coughing. You didn’t need to have a medical degree to know he was getting worse. “How are you feeling Dr. Reid?”

“My throat’s a little dry.” He kept his eyes screwed shut, focusing on what he was saying. “But other than that I feel… fin. Feel fin.” He opened his eyes as nonsense fell from his lips. His brows furrowed in frustration while his irises widened with panic.

Your eyes scanned his shaking form, bile rising in your throat. He reached up for you. On his hand, you spotted the cut.

Not good. Definitely not good.

When he coughed this time, a trickle of blood dripped out of his mouth.

“Driver, faster,” Dr. Kimura ordered.

“Re-,” Spencer stammered, gripping your hand as tight as his muscles allowed. “Ret.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Reel. Rem. R-Read.” He used his other hand to point to his bag, left by Morgan when he took it out of the car.

You reached into it and retrieved the leather-bound volume you’d spent the last week reading together. It made your breath catch in your throat. You opened to the page he’d left off on the night before.

The Final Problem.

With your eyes trained on the page in front of you, the scene of Sherlock Holmes’s death struck a little too close for comfort.

What if this was it? What if you’d wasted all of the time you had left with him in these past few months?

Your hands shook. You wanted a drink.

Derek sat beside you, distracting himself with the hospital jello and a magazine.

You reached the end of the story, but the words caught in your throat, drowned out by threatening cries.

“...and if I have now been compelled to make a clear statement of his career it is due to those injudicious champions who have endeavored to clear his memory by attacks upon him whom I shall ever regard as the best and the wisest man whom I have ever known,” Spencer said groggily. His eyes peered open, landing on Morgan. “Are you eating Jell-O?”

You let out a sob of relief and restrained yourself from throwing your arms around him.

Derek smiled. “Hey doc, look who’s back,” he said to Dr. Kimura, who was speaking to another doctor in the doorway.

“Is there any more Jell-O?” Spence asked, his thoughts still hazy from waking up.

While Derek and the doctor informed Spencer of everything that had happened- including the recovery of the other victims thanks to him knowing where the cure was hidden- you just watched on with awe tightening in your chest, turning to regret.

You’d taken so much for granted and it took almost losing him to see it.

Spencer turned his head toward you, a small smile playing on his lips when he saw your face.

“I could hear you,” he said. “Reading, I mean.”

“You should have picked a happier story,” you teased through your tears.

He chuckled weakly. “Sorry.”

Derek ushered Dr. Kimura out, giving the two of you a little more privacy.

You leaned over, pressing your lips to Spencer’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” you cried.

Spence lifted a hand, wiping away your tears with all the energy he could muster.

“For what?”

Setting the book aside, you took his hand in yours.

“For not coming home sooner.”

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #dr. spencer reid x reader #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #dr. spencer reid #matthew gray gubler

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blair-s-world · 3 months ago

Text

Piledriver Waltz

Alex Turner x y/n

Angst, Fluff, Smut Slow burn & in parts

masterlist

You were the few last to be sitting in the room. Tapping your feet. Portfolio on lap. Biting the lower lip. Girls would go in a room under the name - AUDITIONS. What’s the audition for, you ask? The new Arctic Monkeys music video. Supposedly, it is about the feeling of longing. As your agent said, there’s a bit of erotica in there. You were more than okay as it paid fuckload. Enough to pay a few installments for your mortgage.

The prep note said : Wear black lingerie

So you did.

Beneath your jeans and striped sweater was a new cord set. You didn’t buy it, it was given for sponsorship and today is the day you are wearing it for the second time. “Miss Y/N? Be ready in 10.” said the girl w generic intern face. After receiving a nod from the same intern, you went inside and changed. You removed your clothings one by one and you shoved them in your bag. The temperature of the room was on the chiller side. Something you’d expect out of this place.

You went to the area outside and waited for your name to be called. “Miss Y/N? Go.” said the intern. “God she’s a robot, innit” you said to yourself. Chuckling you went to the room and smiled at 3 people sitting at the desk, all dressed very professional. You were not able to recognize anyone.

You met your trial model today. A short, lean body guy. He is the guy you have to move around and act sexy to grab this roll you registered. He gives you a smile. The coordinator asked you to give your basic details, and you did. You stood in front of the camera, all ready. Before the coordinator could speak, the side door flew open and entered a guy the same height and build as the trial model wearing a linen shirt and sunglasses. Your eyes moved as he did. You noticed his flared jeans and Rockstar boots and that’s when you realised it is him, he is going to be the main guy in the music video. He sat hurriedly, coughed a bit, cleared his throat, smiled at his partners and looked at you. “ Apologies. I went out for a smoke,” he said. You nodded absentmindedly. He smiled at you.

The coordinator asks you to begin the audition on her command.

First take : smile and laugh

Second take: trying to tie your hair in a bun and getting frustrated

Third: after sleep stretch and neck movements

Then came in the trial model. You were asked to do move around him. Give him a little kiss on the corner in his lips. Let him move his hands on your body. React to his movements.

This wasn’t an audition to see how good or sexy you were but how comfortable.

15 minutes into it you see the same man wave his wrist as a dismissal. The coordinator asks you to stop. Confused you frowned a bit. And went inside the changing rooms to get your clothes back on.

The moment you come out, you are asked to meet the producers again. “ Hi. You've been selected to be the main lead in the music video. We need you to be available for the next few days for practice runs, setting a few scenes, and getting things done. I’ll send the email to your agent,” said one of the women sitting. You nodded, smiled, and thanked them.

As you left the building, you walked towards your car. You notice the same guy who walked in later near a pole. " Uhm, hi? " you almost whispered. " Oh, hi, Miss Y/N. Heading home? " he asked as he lit a cigarette. " Yes. Yes. It is pretty late, you know? I live a bit far. The traffic's gonna be a state. " you said hurriedly. I did not realize that you referenced one of his songs. It left you dumbfounded. He chuckled. " Oh, where about you? " he asked, coming a bit near you. " ah, Quarryside," you responded. "It's far," he whispered. You nodded. You start to walk you mouth a bye to him. " Miss, you know... " he trailed off. " You are welcome to stay in my guest room. I have a rental home there," he said, squinting and pointing to a big building behind you. You do a 180 to see where he's telling, look at him, and nod. " let's see how the prep days go. " you say and leave.

You couldn't wait for the tomorrow to come.

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #the car tour #alex turner smut #alexander turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fluff #alex turner angst #alex turner imagine #alex turner fic #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you

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antoine-triplett · 1 year ago

Text

... covinsky + undercover agent au ... “Peter?!” Lara Jean exclaimed, ushering him inside. “Oh my god, look at you! What happened?”

Her boyfriend was wearing an expensive silk suit, but it was ripped in places and spotted with dirt. The tie had been discarded, the shirt creased. He was panting from exertion and beads of sweat glistened on his skin and flattened his curly hair to his forehead. What alarmed her most, however, were the angry red gashes running along one side of his face, like he’d been hit with a spray of broken glass. Blood caked his face and stained the collar of his crisp white shirt, suggesting he hadn’t done a single thing to tend to the wounds or staunch the flow. She winced and cradled his other cheek in her hand while examining the cuts. Some of them would likely need stitches.

“Lara Jean, there’s something I have to tell you. I’m an undercover agent with the CIA.” he said, all in a panicked rush, eyes wild with fear.

She almost laughed, arm dropping limply to her side. It was his eyes above all else that convinced her to pay attention. Peter Kavinsky, always so easy-going and ready with a joke, was dead serious.

“Are you saying that you’re a… spy?”

Peter took her hands, fixing her with a steady, imploring gaze. “I promise I will explain everything the second I can, but for now I need you to trust me. Please?”

“Why? What’s going on?” she asked.

Before he could answer, a sudden bang followed by the rip of splintering wood cut through the air. Pieces of the front door exploded inward and landed at their feet.

#to all the boys i've loved before #to all the boys series #covinsky #lara jean song covey #peter kavinsky #graphics #my fic #SO heres the thing...

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2nd2ndalto · 22 days ago

Text

what if there were two (side by side in orbit)

***NB there are two parts to this chapter since it was too big for one Tumblr post!!***

I started writing this fic a year ago to the day!! It's hard to fathom. And it's still not done! Haha, sob.

TW for Luke being a huge dick. In canon, I don’t have particularly strong feelings about Luke & I feel there’s a lot of potential nuance to his character. But for my X-Files purposes, I just needed a bad guy. My apologies to any Luke stans.

Chapter 6 (part 1 of 2)

(chapter 5 here)

April 1999

“Nico, look what arrived,” Will announces, bouncing back into the office.

Nico looks up, hopeful. “Is it my new three-hole punch?”

Will looks thrilled enough that it just might be the three-hole punch.

“Even better,” Will says. He pulls up a chair next to Nico and begins attempting to open a cardboard box. Smaller than a bread box, probably the wrong shape for a three-hole punch. Damn.

Nico watches Will struggle for a good thirty seconds before snatching the box away, grabbing a letter opener and easily slitting the packing tape. He hands the box back, one eyebrow raised.

Will just grins like an idiot. “My hero.”

There’s yet another box inside the first, and Will, very sensibly, hands it over before he can try breaking into it.

“Oh. It’s a… camera?” Nico says, confused. The X-Files already has a camera. It’s been serving Nico well for years. He’s rather attached to it, honestly. The little device has seen better days, but it’s small and sleek, fitting in his coat pocket and into the cradle of his hands like it was custom made.

“It’s a digital camera,” Will says, taking the box back once Nico’s cut the tape.

“Oh –”

“So you don’t need film! Plus you can take a photo, and see it right away on the little screen.” Will looks delighted.

Nico nods in recognition. “Yeah, Frank’s got one of those. That’s cool.”

Nico doesn’t think he’s ready to retire his film camera yet, despite its sometimes-reluctance to power on and the little piece of electrical tape holding the battery door shut. But maybe Will can use the new camera. He seems intent to try, anyway. Prodding at it for a moment, Will manages to turn the thing on, then aims it at Nico, pressing a button. The camera makes a fancy little digital beep.

“Hey,” Nico protests, scowling. He tries to shove the camera out of the way, but Will’s already lowered it to his lap, poking at the buttons.

“Aww,” Will exclaims. He turns the camera to Nico and yes, sure enough, there’s Nico on the tiny screen, looking blindsided and five-o’clock-shadowed.

“Amazing. What a time to be alive,” Nico says, flat. “Now delete that immediately. I know you can, I’ve seen Frank do it.”

Will shakes his head, trying and utterly failing to maintain a straight face. “No can do, this model doesn’t have that function.”

“Fuck you,” Nico complains, reaching for the camera. But Will pulls it away, fumbling and almost dropping it. Will’s eyes go wide as he catches it just before it smashes to the floor. Nico snorts.

“One of the best things about digital cameras,” Will is saying, continuing to keep the thing out of Nico’s reach, aided by his unfairly long arms, “is that you can take as many pictures as you want!”

Nico smirks. “Because you can just delete the ones you don’t like?”

Will freezes, looking hilariously caught-out, and Nico laughs. “It’s cool, anyway,” Nico says. “I heard the Bureau was getting them.”

Nico regards Will for a moment, his partner now carefully lining up possibly-artistic shots of the mess on Nico’s desk, the empty coffee maker, his own shoes.

“Wonder how long before the Bureau writes up a new policy about agents not using the cameras for personal photos,” Nico muses aloud, thinking of all the possibilities. Not possibilities for him. But maybe for others. It’s his job to think of what other people might do, okay?

Will binks in confusion for a moment before turning abruptly, adorably pink. Nico laughs, pretending his own face isn’t also warming.

“Oh god,” Will says.

“Exactly.”

Something seems to occur to Will. “Hey, now we can take pictures of us together!” he exclaims.

Nico sighs. He somehow didn’t see that coming, though he probably should have. “Because we couldn’t have done that before?”

But Will’s already scooting his chair up next to Nico, leaning in while he holds the camera out in front of them, lens aimed in sort-of their general direction. “Say cheese,” Will says.

Nico tries to look as unimpressed as he can manage. It turns out not to make any difference anyway, because when Will checks the camera, it’s captured a blurry shot of the wall behind them, a flash of gold at the bottom of the frame that might be Will’s hair.

“Damn it,” Will frowns, shamelessly deleting the image. “We need to get closer.”

“Not sure that was really the issue,” Nico mutters to no avail as Will comes in even closer. Nico’s gotten accustomed to Will’s lack of personal space over the months, has gotten to appreciate it, mostly. But this happens so fast and somehow Nico finds himself unprepared – for Will’s arm, tight around his shoulders, Will’s warm cheek suddenly smushed against his.

His whole body warms; tingling heat accompanied by the sudden, intense desire for more, aching like an open wound. Nico’s desperately hoping it doesn’t show on his face, when Will snaps the picture.

Will’s touch is gone just as fast – too fast – as he moves back, flips the camera to look at the photo. Something softens in Will’s expression, and he doesn’t speak for a moment.

“What?” Nico asks, nervous about it now.

“We look –” Will shakes his head, smiling. “It’s – just a good camera.”

Nico reaches for the camera and Will passes it over. It is a good photo. There’s Will, beaming like an idiot, looking somehow thrilled to be pressed up against Nico. And Nico looks… content. Maybe a little harassed, but happy. He’s not smiling, but there’s a quirk to his lips. A warmth in his eyes.

And the weirdest thing is – they don’t just look good individually. They look good together. Like the two of them add up to more than the sum of their parts. It’s as if, seven months ago, there was a Will and a Nico. And now there’s a them. How did that happen, without Nico realizing?

“I’m gonna print that one,” Will says, a bit softer. He takes the camera back.

“Sure,” Nico agrees, as cool as he can. “We can put it right next to the picture of my fish.”

Will looks pleased. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nico turns back to his desk, shuffling papers unnecessarily.

Will stands, glancing at his watch. “Oh, it’s almost five. Wanna walk me to the train?”

More often than not these days, they leave the office together, deep in conversation – lingering first in the lobby, then making their way to the metro station where they finally part ways and Nico heads back to the parking garage.

“Um.” Nico clears his throat. “I was going to stick around, actually. Some Fridays I grab pizza from that place on F Street, pull some old files.” He’s not sure why he’s suddenly feeling awkward about it. But he supposes he’s never mentioned it to Will before.

Will blinks, surprised.

Nico shrugs. “You know. Try looking at things with new eyes. See if I can find anything I’ve missed.”

“Oh –”

“You don’t have to stay,” Nico adds quickly, because he suddenly realizes that he would like the company, but he definitely doesn’t want Will to feel obligated. “I’m off the clock. It probably sounds stupid, but I just kind of like hanging around here when the building empties out. It feels –”

“Spooky?” Will grins.

Nico rolls his eyes. “No, nerd. It’s – relaxing. I don’t know, I can’t explain it. Go home,” he adds, tossing an eraser at Will and turning back to his desk. “We’re done for the day.”

“No, I get that.” Will doesn’t make any move to leave yet. “I’d like to stay, actually. But –”

Nico’s quick to shake his head. “No, go enjoy your Friday night. You don’t have to–”

“No, I was going to say I would stay, but my little brother’s in town with his band. We’re going out for dinner. But next week? If we’re not out on a case?” Will asks, suddenly sounding nervous.

Nico gives him a dry look. “You wanna stay after work. Put in unpaid time. In the spooky basement.”

“Yup.” Will beams at him.

Nico rolls his eyes. “Fine. Next Friday, I will permit you to stay late and do work you’re not being compensated for. Happy?”

“Thrilled,” Will grins, plucking the eraser from the floor and tossing it back. “I’ll even cover the pizza.”

It becomes a routine, after that, nearly every Friday.

And before too long, case research begins bleeding over to Nico’s apartment, which isn’t far from the Bureau, after all. Somehow, Nico’s not surprised when that begins to evolve into something more; Nico putting on a movie, in disbelief that Will’s never seen it. This, inevitably, leads to Will falling asleep on Nico’s couch, Nico draping a blanket over him before heading to his own bed.

And if Friday nights begin leading to Saturday morning coffee, before Will heads back to home… well.

Will’s sprawled on the couch with a book when the apartment door clicks open. He raises a lazy hand to wave at his sister. “There’re leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry. How was your date?”

“Lovely, thank you,” Kayla answers happily, kicking off her shoes and joining Will on the couch, shoving at his feet until he moves them out of her way.

“What did Luke want?” Kayla asks, reaching for the remote.

Will frowns. “Luke? Luke who?”

“Luke Castellan. Luke your ex.”

Will makes a face. “He’s not exactly an ex.”

“Well, he’s an ex-something,” Kayla mutters, beginning to flick through channels. “He called. Did you not see the message?”

Coffee is what Luke wants, apparently, and mid-morning the next day, Will excuses himself, vaguely telling Nico he has an errand to run.

Leaving the Bureau and walking up Ninth Street, he feels guilty about the white lie. And maybe a little guilty that he felt the need to lie in the first place. There’s no reason for it, Will reminds himself firmly. Luke is a colleague, same as Nico. The coffee meeting is about a case, ostensibly. It’s all on the up and up.

Nevertheless, waiting to cross the street to the coffee shop, all Will really wants to do is turn back the way he came. There’s a chilly breeze, and he pulls his blazer tighter around his shoulder. He wishes he’d brought his coat. He wishes he was back in the Bureau basement.

When Will pushes the door open at the Starbucks, Luke’s already sitting at a table by the window, all lanky height and tousled brown hair and dark, smoldering gaze. And okay, Will can admit to himself that it was attractive, once upon a time.

Luke stands, pulls Will in for a handshake, just a little too friendly, looking just a little too pleased at Will’s arrival. Waiting at the counter for his coffee, Will feels more than a little like fleeing, not entirely sure why.

“I heard about your reassignment,” Luke is saying once they’re both seated. “Field work, hey? How’s your spooky partner?”

Will cups his coffee with both hands, warming his cold fingers. “It’s been great, actually,” he says lightly. “Nico’s an excellent agent. We’ve had some really interesting cases.”

Luke grins. “Yeah? Aliens? I think I heard something about vampires.”

Will feels a sharp flash of annoyance, not in any mood to joke about a job he’s become very fond of, nor the partner he has very similar feelings for. Never mind that the maybe-vampire case almost culminated in Will losing that partner, permanently, something that continues to eat at him in quiet moments. “We’re just solving cases. No different than what you do.”

Will can hear the irritation in his own voice, and surely Luke can too. Luke holds up one hand in surrender. “Okay, okay, take it easy Will. I was just kidding.”

“What do you want, Luke?” Will asks, abruptly finding himself completely devoid of patience.

Luke looks surprised, but quickly recovers. “I wanted to get your input on a case, actually.”

The no need to be rude about it seems unspoken, but Will can’t find it in himself to care. The truth of it is that he doesn’t really like Luke Castellan, whatever they had together a couple of years ago aside. But if this is purely about work, Will supposes he can live with that. He takes a deep breath. “Sure. What’s the case?”

Luke reaches for his bag, extracting a file. “It’s a local case. Alexandria PD, they want our help on a serial killer profile. Three murders in the past six weeks. Victims vary in age, race, gender. No known connections to each other.”

Will frowns, feeling his shoulders relax a bit at the now-familiar feeling of sinking into a new mystery. “I take it there’s some kind of pattern?”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “The point of entry. Or rather, the lack of one.”

“What do you mean?”

“First victim, college student. Killed in her ten-by-twelve cinder block dorm room. She was found with the windows locked and the door chained from the inside. Second guy was found in a maintenance shed. Again, locked from the inside. The last incident, yesterday, was the top floor of a high security office building. Nothing at all on the security monitors. Janitor spoke to the victim minutes before the murder, didn’t see or hear a thing out of the ordinary.”

Will considers. “Suicides?”

“Each victim was found with their liver ripped out,” Luke informs him. “No cutting tools used.” Luke opens the file then, pulling out a photo and pushing it towards Will. A gory mess of someone’s midsection. Will raises his eyebrows.

“The killer what – used their bare hands?” Will asks, pulling the file closer for a better look.

“As far as we can tell, yeah.”

Will surveys the bloody evidence, impressed despite himself. “Physiologically that’s… pretty improbable. This sounds like it could be an X-File.”

Luke leans back. “Let’s not get carried away. What I’d like from you is a look over the case histories. Maybe come down to the crime scene. See what you think about a profile.”

Will glances up to meet Luke’s gaze. “Do you want me to ask Nico?”

Luke shrugs, seemingly trying for unconcerned. “If he wants to come along and give you a hand, sure. But just make sure he knows this is my case, Will. The thing is – our section leader’s all tied up with another investigation at the moment, and I’ve been given clearance to run this on my own. If I can break a case like this one, it might just be the bump up the ladder I need. And who knows? If you can help, maybe it’ll be your ticket out of the basement.”

Nico seems willing enough, his eyes lighting up at the mere mention of the extracted livers. Will smiles to himself. They’ve reached a point in their partnership where Will knows exactly what will get his partner going, and it warms him a little every time he’s able to provide it. Even if it is in the form of manual dissection.

It’s a short drive to the crime scene, a glass-fronted six-storey office building on a block lined with several other such buildings.

“No balconies, no fire escapes,” Nico notes as they approach the entrance, glancing up at the shiny exterior, glinting in the early afternoon sun. “And those windows don’t open. Can’t imagine it would have been easy to get to the sixth floor from the outside.”

The place does seem particularly secure, Will thinks, as they pass through two different checkpoints just to reach the elevators. He takes note of the security cameras in the lobby and the elevator.

All’s quiet on the sixth floor when they arrive, no sign of Luke or his partner. The office where the murder occurred is a far cry from their office at the Bureau. Besides the fact that it’s currently a crime scene, it’s impressive; vast, with floor-to ceiling windows and a desk that Will’s pretty sure is worth more than all the furniture he owns. If he and Nico had this kind of space in the basement, they could add a sofa. Maybe a stationary bike.

“Just think how many filing cabinets you could fit in here,” Will murmurs.

Nico grins. “Right? I could finally take my cryptid art collection out of storage, start a whole gallery wall.” He spreads his arms out in front of him.

“Wait – what?” Will laughs, but Nico just waggles his eyebrows, immediately getting to work. He pulls out a camera (not the digital one, Will notes) and evidence bags. He drops to a crouch, a close inspection of the carpet around where the most recent victim was found. Will takes in the dried blood, soaked through lush, sand-colored carpet, yellow plastic evidence markers scattered over the room like fallen leaves.

A moment later Nico turns to glance up at Will, brow furrowed. “You said there was nothing on the cameras, right?”

“Yeah,” Will agrees. “And there was a security guard right outside the door.”

Nico chews on it for a long moment, thinking. “This is definitely an X-File. Why didn’t they just send a consult request straight downstairs?”

Will shrugs, ignoring the flash of guilt. “Luke and I knew each other at the Academy. I’m sure he just felt more comfortable approaching me.”

Nico, unfortunately, is an excellent profiler, when it comes right down on it. Normally Will doesn’t mind much, having that intense gaze directed at him rather than any given murderer. He tries not to give it too much thought, but the truth is he usually likes the attention. Right now, however, he could do without it. Nico rises, watching Will a little too intently.

“And I make people… uncomfortable?” Nico guesses.

Will grimaces. “Look, Luke likes to play by the book. He thinks your methods, your theories –”

“Are spooky?” Nico’s lips quirk.

“You know how people are.”

Nico holds Will’s gaze a moment longer, all big dark eyes and long lashes, just long enough for Will to feel butterflies stirring in his stomach. Honestly. Does Nico know what he’s doing?

“And Luke…” Will shifts awkwardly, wishing he didn’t always have to be so obvious, an open book. “He wanted to make sure you knew this is his case.”

Nico rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. He thinks it’ll be good for his career.”

Nico huffs dismissively and Will feels a rush of fondness. He’s known Nico less than a year, but he’d never call him competitive, nor does he seem to have any interest in climbing the corporate ladder. He’s truly just about the case. Finding answers. Solving the puzzle. At the very least, it aligns nicely with Will’s own moral code, and at the most, it endears him deeply.

Will glances toward the doorway, checking to make sure Luke hasn’t arrived yet. He lowers his voice. “Luke likes to come out on top. You know the type. But it’s not as if we really have to work with him. We’ll just take a look at the evidence, give our expert opinion and then move along.”

Nico nods. “I can live with that.”

“You’re the expert,” Will adds under his breath, aiming a light kick at Nico’s shoe.

Nico laughs, low. He looks pleased. “I already knew that,” he says, kicking Will back.

“Agent Solace is right in here,” comes a voice from the hallway, and they both turn.

“Will,” Luke grins, striding into the room. “Sorry I’m late.” He reaches out to shake Will’s hand, his gaze lingering just long enough to make Will take a step back. He’s sure Luke does want their help on his way up the ladder, has no doubt that that’s exactly what prompted this meeting. But he’s getting the feeling the other man may have other intentions as well. And Will is very much not interested.

Will clears his throat. “Not a problem. We just got here ourselves. Luke Castellan – Nico di Angelo.” He gestures between the two men.

The two shake hands. Nico watches Luke even as Luke turns away, a slight furrow to his brow.

“And this is my partner, Annabeth Chase,” Luke adds, as a serious-looking dark-haired woman enters the room, her gaze thoughtful. She brightens as she catches sight of Will.

“Agent Solace,” Annabeth extends her hand. “It’s good to see you. How are you enjoying field work?”

“I’m loving it, actually,” Will smiles. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Will hadn’t realized Annabeth was partnered with Luke. He briefly worked with her at Quantico before she was transferred to Violent Crimes. She’s a consummate professional, almost always more knowledgeable than anyone else in the room. Just her presence is reassuring.

“Nice to see you again, Agent Chase,” Nico says.

Annabeth nods, a small smile. “You as well. I was pleased to hear you’d be able to offer your expertise,” she tells Nico. “I suggested to Agent Castellan that this case might be in your wheelhouse.”

Luke clears his throat. “Annabeth, they’re purely here as consultants. At least this time.” He offers Will a winning smile that Will doesn’t return. There’s the slightest crease to Annabeth’s brow as she flicks a glance between them.

“So, Agent di Angelo, what do you think?” Luke asks, light. “Does this look like the work of little green men?”

“Gray,” Nico says, deadpan. His expression doesn’t change, but Will knows him well enough to take in the slight tensing in his posture. He feels its echo in his own jaw.

“Excuse me?” says Luke, still smiling.

“Gray,” Nico corrects. “You said green men. The Reticulan skin tone is actually more of a dark gray. They’re notorious for their extraction of terrestrial human livers, due to iron depletion in the Reticulan galaxy.”

Luke’s smile falters. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do you have any idea what liver and onions go for on Reticula?” Nico asks, just this side of impolite. “Excuse me.” He turns, crossing to the other end of the room.

Luke looks sour at this, but makes no comment. Will lingers near Luke and Annabeth, all three watching Nico. He crouches at the wall across from the desk, pulling out tweezers and extracting something from the carpet, then glancing to a vent cover near the ceiling. He pulls over a chair, climbing on it and proceeding to dust the vent cover for prints.

Luke frowns. “What the hell is he doing? That ventilation shaft is maybe six by eighteen inches. Even if someone could squeeze through it, it’s screwed in place.”

Nico walks back towards them, holding up an evidence bag. Inside, just visible, is a thin metal thread. “Well, something came through there.”

Will’s at the Bureau early the next morning, but when the door of the basement stairwell falls shut behind him, he can see light already shining through the door of the office.

“Come take a look at this,” Nico says as Will enters, not turning from where he’s hunched over a lightbox.

“What, not even a good morning?”

Nico’s head shoots up. He blinks, wide-eyed and bemused, taking a minute to focus on Will. “Hi?”

Will laughs. “Hi.” He hangs his coat and crosses the room, pulling up a chair.

“This is the print I lifted from the vent cover yesterday,” Nico says, tapping a slide on the left. “These others are from an old X-File. I’ve found records of nine murders, Alexandria and surrounding area, undetermined points of entry. Each victim had their liver removed. Prints were found at nine of the ten crime scenes.” Nico sits back so Will can lean forward over the table, squinting at the prints.

“Nine murders,” Will says slowly. “Luke never mentioned…”

“He’s probably not aware of them,” Nico says. “Didn’t do his research. These prints were lifted before he was born, in Fort Hunt.” He taps the right side of the lightbox, five sets of prints. “And these two others were lifted probably before his mother was born.”

Will frowns, peering at the small type on the sheets on the lightbox. “Wait – the dates on these are 1939 and… 1909?”

“Yup. And fingerprinting was just coming into its own in 1909, so there’s not a lot of print evidence from that time period, but I found records of two other murders that year that sure sound similar.” Gingerly, Nico hands Will two handwritten reports, the paper brittle under protective plastic sheets.

Will sits back, scanning through the text; neatly handwritten records from some agent who’s likely long dead, a voice back echoing through the decades.

“Thirty nine year old woman, found dead in a room locked from the inside,” Will reads, frowning. “Cause of death, blood loss, major trauma to victim’s abdomen, liver appears to have been forcibly removed.” Will shakes his head, bewildered. “That’s bizarre.” He double-checks the date at the top of the page – May 3rd, 1909. “Do you think the murders this month were copycats?”

Nico shakes his head. “Not copycats. Each fingerprint is unique, right? The prints I lifted yesterday are a perfect match to the ones in 1909 and 1939.”

Will frowns. “How, though?” He returns his attention to the slides on the lightbox, now looking more closely. “And why are the prints so long?” Each one looks stretched, elongated. Not like any prints Will’s ever seen before. At first he’d assumed the records of the historical prints were somehow compromised. It’s not unusual for decades-old files to be damaged in some way. But as he looks closer, Will realizes none of the text on the slides is stretched, only the prints. Including the ones from the office building yesterday.

“Not sure yet.” Nico shrugs. “But these murders seem to occur in clumps, over the decades, right? There have only been three this year. I’m betting that means we can expect at least a couple more missing livers.”

“So we go to Violent Crimes and present a profile saying these crimes were committed by what – someone who’s over a hundred years old, yet still capable of overpowering a healthy, six-foot-two businessman?” Will asks, doubtful. He’s not questioning the evidence, or Nico’s research. But it’s a lot to wrap his mind around this early in the morning.

Nico grins. “And the guy should stand out in a crowd, with ten-inch fingers.”

Will laughs. “You know, Nico – this is incredible, but – I don’t know how much further we’ll be able to follow this line of inquiry. Bottom line, this is Luke’s case.” Will’s gut twists uncomfortably. He can already anticipate Luke’s reaction to this theory. ”He was pretty clear on that.”

“Not a problem,” Nico says. “Our X-File dates back to 1909. We had it first.”

Will glances back to the lightbox, his gaze drifting out of focus, considering.

“Look, how about this,” Nico says. “We have our investigation, and they have theirs. Never the twain shall meet.” There’s a spark in Nico’s eyes. Curiosity and discovery, a little manic. It’s become harder and harder to resist with each passing month.

Will nods. “Sure. I can get on board with that.”

Nico beams, radiant and inconveniently adorable.

Will laughs, glancing back to the report in his hand. He hands it back to Nico and crosses to his desk, in sudden need of a little space. “Hey, how’s your profile coming?” he asks.

“Actually,” Nico says, “I was thinking maybe you could take a crack at it.”

“But you – you’re the profiler. You’re the expert –”

Nico shrugs, apparently unconcerned with this. “Yeah, but Luke and Annabeth came to you for help. It makes sense for you to do the write-up.”

“I – don’t know if I can –” Will begins, awkward.

“Of course you can, Will.” Nico’s smile is warm. “You’re an excellent writer and you’re great at analysis. I’m always impressed when I read your field reports. Why don’t you give it a shot and then we can talk it over together?”

Will pushes back from his desk, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Okay,” he says. “wanna hear what I’ve got so far?”

Nico turns, grinning. “Always.”

Will rolls his eyes and begins reading aloud. “After careful review of these murders, I believe the killer to be a male, twenty-five to thirty-five years of age, with above average intelligence. His manner of entry has so far been undetectable. This may be due to his superior knowledge of the inner structure of buildings and duct works, he may be hiding in plain sight, posing as delivery or maintenance workers.

“The extraction of the liver is the most significant detail of these crimes. The liver posessess regenerative qualities. It cleanses the blood. The taking of this trophy is the transferring act for the killer, to cleanse himself of his own impulses.

“As the victims are unrelated and we cannot predict the next, we must utilize the fact that a killer will not always succeed in finding a victim. When this occurs, a serial killer may return to the site of a previous murder, hoping to recapture the emotional high. Given this, I believe our best course of action is to target these sites.”

Will sighs, tossing his papers on his desk and raising his eyes to Nico’s. The look on Nico’s face catches at Will’s heart. It’s not just approving, but fond. Proud.

“What?” he laughs, self-conscious.

“It’s good. I think you nailed it,” Nico says. “You left out the part about the killer being over a hundred years old, though. And being able to travel through vents.”

Will laughs. “Well, I don’t think Violent Crimes is quite ready for that. But it’s like you said – they’ll do their investigation, and we’ll keep looking for… alternate possibilities.”

They regard each other for a moment, Nico’s gaze still fond. Open. It makes Will want to give him more to smile about. Makes him want to keep Nico’s attention, his approval. It feels like a stupid impulse, childish. But then –

“Hold on,” Will says slowly, his memory suddenly catching up with their conversation this morning, with the bits and pieces of his profile. “There was another case – it could have been 1909 –” and Will’s up and heading for the file cabinet in the corner, the one where Nico keeps newspaper clippings, old magazine articles. Nico follows, watching as Will feverishly flips through folders in a bottom drawer.

“I was going through this stuff, when you were away sick a couple of weeks ago,” Will says. Where did he see it?

“Here!” he says, triumphant. He rises, newspaper clipping in his hand. “I don’t think the story about the death was even meant to be saved, the clipped article is about a geomagnetic storm. But there’s a little article on the back.” Will turns the paper, reading aloud, “a seventy-two year old man and his forty-five year old son were found dead in their home, apparent victims of an animal attack.”

Will scans further. “It says… both had significant wounds to the abdomen, no other trauma to the bodies. It doesn’t mention anything about missing livers, but –”

“But maybe it wouldn’t, if it was assumed to be an animal attack and it wasn’t investigated any further.” Nico’s eyes are alight with interest as he carefully takes the yellowed clipping from Will. “Yeah. This fits. And the dates line up perfectly.” Nico looks up, beaming. “You’re brilliant.”

Will snorts, but he can feel himself blushing. “I learned from the best,” he manages.

“So that’s – that’s five murders in 1939,” Nico says, his gaze going unfocused, the clipping loose in his hand. “And six in 1909.”

“I wonder if there are more,” Will says.

Nico nods slowly. “That’s definitely possible.” His gaze shifts back to Will. Will can almost hear the gears turning. “Wanna head over to the Library of Congress? I bet we can unearth a few more missing livers. Whoever finds the most buys dinner?”

Will laughs. “As appealing as that sounds – I think we need to present our profile to Violent Crimes.”

Luke and his team seem to be in agreement with Will’s profile, and that evening finds Will and Nico in the parking garage under the building where the last victim was killed. They’re in Nico’s car – a newer-model black sedan, shiny-clean and freshly detailed. While Nico’s always happiest in his own car, Will privately prefers the Bureau fleet cars. Although snacking is technically permitted in Nico’s car, he gets twitchy about crumbs.

So far, the stakeout has been profoundly unexciting. Will shifts, stretching. His stomach rumbles, and Nico quirks an eyebrow. Will sticks out his tongue.

Then, sudden in the silence of the parking garage, there’s a clanging and scrabbling in a nearby ventilation shaft. The agents glance at each other, alarmed. Will scrambles to sit up straight, then quickly and quietly follows Nico out of the car, both of them drawing their guns. Every little movement seems loud and resonant in the mostly-empty space.

“Call for backup,” Nico says under his breath.

The scrambling noises continue. A rat? Maybe a squirrel? It sure sounds like something bigger.

Will retreats a few steps, quiet as he can. “Position ten requesting backup,” he says into his radio, never taking his eyes from the ventilation shaft.

Will’s jaw is tight, heart pounding. He’s finding situations like this more harrowing ever since Nico’s near-exsanguination in St. Ambrose, his anxiety rising off the charts at the drop of a hat, a fierce thread of protectiveness running through it all. It’s only been a couple of months, though, he reminds himself. Things like this must get easier in time.

Nico creeps in closer, calm, focused, dress shoes quiet on the concrete. When he’s within a few yards of the ventilation shaft, he raises his voice to yell. “Federal agent, I’m armed. Proceed out of the vent slowly.”

Still half-expecting a rat or a stray cat, Will’s eyes widen as the hatch at the bottom of the duct is kicked open and a young man emerges. He slowly stands and turns, holding his hands in the air.

There’s the slam of car doors and the sound of footsteps, then the chatter of radios and voices as agents approach from the other end of the parking garage. Will slowly lowers his gun.

“He doesn’t look any older than thirty, does he?” Will murmurs to his partner. “You think he’s our guy from 1909?” They’re seated side by side in the darkened observation room. The man from the ventilation shaft is on the other side of the glass, so far cooperating with a lie detector test.

Nico grimaces. “If he is, we should ask him for his skincare routine before they lock him up.”

Will bites down a laugh.

The door to the observation room opens, Luke and Annabeth quietly filing in. Luke automatically takes the single empty chair. Will glances up to see something like disbelief flicker over Nico’s face. Nico quickly stands, offering his chair to Annabeth. She shakes her head. Nico, stubborn as always, remains standing next to her, propping himself against the wall at the back of the little room.

Will rises after Nico, quirking an eyebrow at Annabeth. She rolls her eyes and sits. Will joins Nico at the wall, bumping their shoulders together. Nico bumps back. Will stumbles and Nico snorts, grabbing his arm. Luke turns to give them both a disgusted look and they fall silent.

The man on the other side of the glass – Eugene Victor Tooms, apparently – answers the examiner’s questions in a slow, dreamy monotone. He’s slim, dark-haired. Unobtrusive looking. He’s employed by Animal Control, he says, and his story is that he was in the vent for work-related purposes.

The examination continues, running first through the usual biographical queries before pivoting to questioning about the recent murders. Tooms denies having killed any of the victims.

“Are you over one hundred years old?” the examiner asks.

Luke shifts in his chair, brow furrowed. “That must be a control question.”

“I had her ask it,” Nico murmurs.

“No,” says Tooms.

“Have you ever been to Fort Hunt?” the examiner asks.

“Yes.”

“In 1939?” the examiner asks.

“No.”

“Are you worried you’re going to fail this test?”

“Yes. Because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“He passed with flying colors,” the examiner tells the four agents in a conference room afterwards. “Either we’re not asking the right questions, or your suspect didn’t kill those people.”

Nico reaches for the readout, frowning over the results.

Annabeth nods. “I just spoke to the maintenance department at the building where we found him. They confirm that a strange smell was reported earlier in the day. Makes sense that Animal Control would be there investigating.”

Luke lets out a breath, frustrated. “Fuck. It’s a dead end.”

Will peers over Nico’s shoulder at the polygraph report. “Still doesn’t quite explain why he was there so late at night – crawling up an air duct, by himself. Without alerting security,” Will muses. Nico glances up, a quirk of his eyebrows in agreement with this assessment.

Luke shakes his head. “Will, he passed the test. His story checks out. This isn’t our guy.”

“No, Will’s right,” Nico says.

Luke turns his gaze on Nico, his expression dismissive. There’s a buzz of frustration under Will’s skin. It’s clear to him that Luke’s not going to put any stock in whatever Nico’s going to say, and he hasn’t even spoken yet.

“He lied on questions eleven and thirteen,” Nico says, tapping the readout. “His electrodermal and cardiographic responses are almost off the chart.”

Luke steps closer, just a little too far into Nico’s personal space. Will’s aware of precisely what constitutes Nico’s personal space at this point, not to mention who’s permitted to breach it. He feels the incursion as if it’s happening to his own body. Will pushes down an overwhelming, visceral desire to shove Luke out of the way.

“Was number eleven the hundred-year-old question?” Luke asks, hard. “Because I had a reaction to that stupid question too.”

“Can I see?” Annabeth asks mildly, reaching for the report.

“I don’t need you or that machine telling me this guy was alive in 1909!” Luke says, his voice rising.

Annabeth lowers the paper slowly to the table, shooting her partner a supremely unimpressed look. “Luke –”

“He’s the guy,” Nico says, obstinate.

“We’re letting him go,” Luke retorts. “It’s my case. It’s my call.” He turns to leave the room. “You coming, Annabeth?”

“Give me a minute,” Annabeth says, calm, and Luke rolls his eyes, the door slamming shut behind him.

The three of them stare at the door in silence for a moment.

“Nice guy,” Nico says, dry. “Seems like a real joy to work with.”

“He’s… stubborn.” Annabeth frowns. “He’s usually not quite this bad, honestly.”

Nico huffs. “You think I set him off?”

Annabeth gives him a wry smile. “It might have been mutual.” She pulls out a chair. “Can we take a closer look at these numbers?”

“Hey, you beat me here,” Nico says, opening the already-unlocked office door and beginning to pull off his coat. He glances at the clock on the wall. It’s not even 8:30, a good half-hour before Will usually appears. Will’s bent over his desk, scribbling into a notepad, coffee at his elbow. The coffee maker on the counter is half-empty. As Nico moves further into the office, he notices Will’s used one of his mugs, the one Frank got him for Christmas last year that says Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you. Nico smiles, opening his mouth to comment on this.

Will clears his throat. “Yeah. I had an idea and –”

Will’s voice, wet and wobbly, is a jolt to Nico’s solar plexus. “Will? What happened?”

“Sorry,” Will shakes his head, wiping at his cheeks as Nico approaches his desk. “It’s nothing really. I um – I thought I’d see if I could get in touch with any of the family members from the 1939 murders –”

“Oh –” Nico begins, an automatic understanding.

“Yeah.” Will gives a wet laugh, another swipe at his face. “I’m fine. I really am. Just, one of them – Nolan Campbell – his parents are still alive, both in their 80s. They live in the UK now, which is why I thought it would be okay to call them at eight in the morning. His mom was really lovely. She wanted to tell me all about Nolan. So she did.”

Nico shifts so he’s sitting on the edge of Will’s desk. “It was good of you to listen.”

Will lets out a long breath. “What else could I do?”

“Yeah.” Nico’s fingers itch to reach out, and before he’s completely thought it through, they have – a quick squeeze to Will’s forearm that makes his heart stutter. It gets a smile from Will, though, and that’s what counts.

Will shakes his head. “I don’t think I got any new information.”

“That’s not what matters,” Nico says immediately.

“I don’t know if Reyna would agree. Definitely Octavian wouldn’t.”

“Well. Fuck Octavian.”

“I hope they don’t keep too close an eye on our long distance usage. My dad – he would always get all bent out of shape about that.” Will makes a face.

“They don’t even notice,” Nico says. “Fucking Bureau probably spent five grand on staples last year.”

Will laughs, blue eyes sparkling up at Nico. His eyes are even prettier when he cries, Nico realizes with a jolt, bright blue and shining. Really not fair. Nico looks hideous when he cries, all splotchy and wild-eyed.

“He was a musician,” Will says.

“Who – the 1939 victim?”

“Yeah. His mom said. She was telling me how relieved she was that he wasn’t drafted – he had some kind of heart condition. And then he went and got murdered anyway.” Will takes a shaky breath. “She might be sending us a Christmas card. And I said I’d call back if – when we manage to solve the case.” Will carefully tears the corner off the sheet he was writing on – a name and phone number – pinning it securely to the bulletin board at the end of his desk, taking care to push the pin in all the way.

“He was murdered sixty years ago,” Will says, soft. “You’d never have known it, listening to his mom.”

Nico swallows. “Yeah. Those things stick with you.”

Will takes another deep breath, a little steadier now. “Sorry,” he says. “I guess I’ve been crying at work a lot lately.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay to have emotions.” Nico clears his throat. “Personally, I try to avoid them whenever possible, but I’m not exactly a model of mental health.”

Will smiles, lopsided and fond.

Honestly, Nico’s still hasn’t quite recovered from all the talking they’ve done in the last couple of months. He’s definitely never had a working relationship anything like this; emotions so close to the surface, heart-to-heart talks about work and family. In the aftermath, he finds himself feeling raw and exposed. Weirdly healthy, though. Oddly grounded. Though he still hasn’t figured out how to start those conversations in the first place, and he’s not convinced he ever will. Luckily, he’s got Will.

Will tilts to the side, bumping his arm into Nico’s leg where it’s still resting on Will’s desk.

Nico watches him for a second more before – “I have a job for you.”

Will’s lips twitch. “Yeah? Other than the job I’m already doing?”

“Remember that Polish bakery we found on Indiana Avenue?”

“This is a baked goods related job?”

“Yes,” Nico says, firm. “It’s a beautiful morning. You probably got here before it was light out. I want you to walk to Indiana Avenue and get a box of those poppy seed strudel things.”

Will snorts. “Weren’t you just criticizing my choice in breakfast foods like, a week ago?”

Nico regards Will solemnly. “Desperate times, Will.”

He has such a fucking ridiculous desire to lift his hand, brush his fingers across Will’s cheek. He can almost feel the rasp of stubble under his fingertips, can almost imagine the quirk of pink lips.

Quelling that urge as best he can, instead Nico plucks Will’s glasses from where they’re sitting on the desk, sure to keep his fingers away from the lenses. Breath held, heart pounding, he leans in, places the glasses carefully on Will’s face. Because that doesn’t quite count as touching, Nico decides. Nico’s stomach does a frankly impressive backflip as he gently pushes the glasses up the bridge of Will’s nose with the tip of his index finger.

Will’s smile softens into something that makes Nico’s insides turn to mush.

And – It’s just a crush, right? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. God, it’s been a long time since Nico’s had a crush on anyone. That must be why it feels like this with Will. Why it feels like more.

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to distract me or get rid of me,” Will says, still puffy-eyed, but looking pleased.

“The sad truth is, you may never know for sure,” Nico says, sliding off the desk before he does something even stupider.

Will shakes his head, one more wipe at his face, and then he stands, bumping Nico on his way to the door. “Fine. And who’s covering breakfast?” he asks, eyes sparkling now in a way that makes Nico’s mind settle and his heart swell.

“You’re buying,” Nico says, deadpan.

And Will does feel lighter after the walk outside. Calmer. As much as Nico sounded like his mother, telling Will to go get some fresh air, he may have had a point.

“Good, you’re finally back,” Nico says, as Will returns with the pastries. “Come take a look at this.”

Will glances at the clock on the wall, laughing. “What do you mean, finally? I don’t think I was even gone for half an hour.”

“Oh.” Nico looks up, bemused. “Seemed like longer.” The new, shorter hair looks good on Nico, Will notes privately. It makes his face look younger, makes those big, dark eyes look even more dramatic.

“Any amount of time I’m gone is interminable,” Will teases. He drops the box of pastries on his desk, crossing the room and pulling up a chair to see what’s got his partner’s attention. He bumps his chair up against Nico’s and a brief battle ensues, but Will can tell Nico is far too eager to show him what he’s found to be much of a contender. He settles for nudging his chair up against Nico’s and peering over his shoulder.

Nico turns and shoots him a sweet smile, quick, his face inches away, and Will’s stomach flips. He frowns to himself, determinedly focusing on the prints in front of them and not the scent of Nico’s hair; rain-washed stone, something sharp and fresh.

“Okay, check this out,” Nico’s saying. “These are the prints they took from Tooms at the station last night, and these,” he taps the other side of the lightbox, the elongated prints, “are the ones I lifted from the vent in the office building two days ago.”

Will nods. “Okay. But they’re not even the same shape. The ones from the office building don’t even look human.”

“True, but now, look at this.” Nico raises an eyebrow at Will and then zips across the office to his laptop, his chair making a neat beeline on the linoleum. Will, not trusting his coordination or his probably-1960s-vintage chair, stands and follows, squinting at the screen over Nico’s shoulder.

“Here are the prints, side by side, and – voila.” Nico hits a few buttons, and the prints taken from Tooms last night stretch out, familiar elongated ovals. “A perfect match,” Nico announces, eyes bright.

Will blinks at the screen. “What the fuck,” he says flatly.

“I know!” Nico exclaims.

“But how–”

“No idea,” Nico shrugs, thrilled by it.

Will gazes at the screen, trying to wrap his mind around any logical explanation for this. Nico’s hunched over the laptop, carefully making small adjustments to the images, fiddling with the brightness and contrast. Will lifts his hand up in front of his face, considering the whorls of his own fingerprints. “Can you print out that fingerprint comparison?” he asks Nico.

“Yeah, sure.” Nico clicks through a few windows and a second later the printer on the counter hums to life. Will crosses the room to collect the sheets as they emerge.

“Oh. Fuck,” Nico says suddenly, fumbling in the pocket of his jacket, draped over the back of the chair. Will hears the buzzing of Nico’s phone as he extracts it.

“Di Angelo,” he says. Then, “Okay, we’ll be right there.”

“Where –” Will begins as Nico stands.

“Another missing liver,” Nico says, grim.

Will shoots a longing look at the abandoned box of pastries. He folds the printed sheets carefully into quarters as he follows his partner out of the office.

“This is it, right?” Nico puts the car in park, glances up at the large, brick-fronted house they’ve just pulled up in front of.

Will double-checks the address he’d written down in their rush out of the Bureau. “Yup, 247. That’s the right one.”

They exit the car, and Nico leads them up a tree-lined drive, then wide stone steps. The front doors stand open, yellow crime scene tape standing out against dark, polished wood.

“Nice place,” Nico comments, glancing around as they step inside. “Maybe this guy likes high-end livers.” The floor is shining, immaculate hardwood, reflecting a crystal chandelier overhead.

“Think I could fit my entire apartment in this entryway,” Will says under his breath. He and Nico follow the sound of activity and voices through the entryway into a vast dining room.

“Let’s run a check on liver transplants in the next twenty four hours,” Luke is saying as they enter. “Maybe this thing is black market.”

Annabeth looks skeptical. “Luke, the way the liver was ripped out – can you really imagine it being of any use as a transplant?”

“Look, at this point I’m willing to give any theory a shot.”

“Now you’re speaking my language,” Nico says as he and Will approach.

Luke turns, a reflexive scowl as he catches sight of Nico. “I’m willing to give any sane theory a shot. Sorry, Will,” he says, pointedly turning away from Nico, “but I only want qualified members of the investigating team at the crime scene.”

“I asked them to come, Luke,” Annabeth says, frowning.

“What’s the matter, Castellan? Worried I’m going to solve your case?” Nico asks, cool. He goes to walk further into the room and Luke steps in front of him, blocking his path. Nico raises an eyebrow, not backing down.

“Luke, we have authorized access to this crime scene.” Will cuts in, trying for cool and collected, though his heart is pounding in his throat and all he really wants to do is turn and run back to the car. He moves to stand beside Nico. He can feel the tension radiating off his partner. “A report of you obstructing another officer’s investigation might stick out in your personnel file.”

Before Luke can respond, Will grabs the sleeve of Nico’s jacket, physically pulling him over to the corner of the room where the collection of evidence markers is densest.

“I could have taken him. He’s only like, a foot taller than me,” Nico mutters. But he follows willingly enough.

Will snorts. “Yeah, but I’m willing to bet he doesn’t fight fair. Let’s just have a look around and get out of here. The two of you are making me nervous.”

“He started it,” Nico grumbles.

“I know. Let’s just… try to get along for a bit longer.”

Nico rolls his eyes, bumping his shoulder into Will’s. Will fights a smile, mouthing be nice.

Nico mouths back, hand to his chest, who, me? and Will laughs, too loud. Grinning, Nico walks over to the fireplace, a close examination of the mantel.

Will scrubs a hand over his face, taking a second to steady his breathing. This collaboration is already starting to feel like a terrible idea. Will has always hated conflict, always shied away from it. Austin was the mediator, at home. Will was the one who’d avoid the situation altogether if he could manage it. He still prefers it that way.

“You okay, Solace?” Annabeth asks, low, walking over to join him a moment later.

“Yeah,” Will sighs, glancing over to where Luke is speaking to a police officer a few feet away. “I’m fine. Just – want to get this case dealt with.”

Annabeth shakes her head. “I’m sorry he’s being such an ass. I’ve never seen him so territorial before. We really do appreciate your help.”

Will nods, tired.

Luke joins them a moment later. “So, what do you think?”

“Well,” Will says. “It sure matches the profiles of the previous victims – liver extracted, no obvious point of entry.”

Luke’s nodding, brow furrowed, his gaze on the chalk outline.

“Actually – Nico found some prints you should take a look at,” Will adds, remembering what he and Nico were doing before they were interrupted with the news of yet another victim. “The prints taken from Tooms last night matched –”

“Okay, but this isn’t Tooms,” Luke interrupts.

“It’s Tooms,” Nico announces, his voice unexpected at Will’s shoulder.

“We cleared Mr. Tooms last night,” Luke says, his voice tight.

Nico shrugs. “There’s a vent over the fireplace. The vent cover was removed, and I found metal threads on the mantel, same as the crime scene at the office building.” He holds up an evidence bag. “And I’m pretty sure the prints I just lifted from the vent are going to match, too.”

“What the fuck are you saying, di Angelo? That the killer came through the fucking vent?”

Nico just quirks an eyebrow and heads for the door, thankfully electing not to antagonize Luke any further this time. Will begins to follow his partner out, feeling a headache starting to throb between his eyes, a knot of tension in his shoulders.

“You leaving too?” Luke asks, catching up to Will in the entryway.

“Yeah. Like I mentioned, Nico was doing a print comparison, evidence from the other crime scenes. Here, I can show you.” Will fishes the printout from his pocket, unfolding it and offering it to Luke.

Luke just scowls at the paper, though, seemingly reluctant to even touch it. “What the fuck is that?”

“These are Tooms’ prints.” Will taps the paper. “And these are the ones Nico lifted from the third crime scene.” He indicates the elongated prints.

“Your partner doesn’t even understand elementary print collection,” Luke says, disbelieving.

“I know they look strange, but they’re a match –” Will tries.

“You can go ahead and tell your partner to leave those prints alone,” Luke says with finality.

Will lets out a breath, sharp. “Look, Luke. You’re the one who asked for our input on this. Why bother if you’re going to block our investigation at every turn?”

“I’m not blocking your investigation,” Luke says, his voice rising. “Your partner’s got a screw loose. Did you hear those questions during the polygraph last night?”

Will’s in no mood for further argument. “I’m going back to the office. I’ll check in with you and Annabeth later,” he says.

Luke scoffs. “You know, Annabeth said di Angelo was a good agent, that we’d stand a better chance of solving this thing with him on board. So far, all I see is the two of you slowing us down.”

“Luke, Nico’s been working his ass off on this case. He’s found evidence of historical murders with the same MO –”

Luke doesn’t even seem to be listening. “Di Angelo had a decent reputation, back when he worked for Violent Crimes, but he’s lost his marbles working down in that basement.”

Will opens his mouth to protest, but Luke continues –

“You know, maybe it is for the best, that we’ve got the two of you on this case. Maybe your department needs to be exposed for what it really is. Octavian’s wanted the X-Files shut down for years.” Luke pauses. “He’s a buddy of mine, you know.”

Will blinks, a chill running through him. “Are you threatening us?”

Luke hesitates. When he speaks again, his tone is slightly more conciliatory. “Just trying to give you some friendly advice, Will. Give it some thought.”

Will shakes his head, turning to leave.

“Hey,” Luke says, sharp, a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

Will jerks away from the touch. “The victim’s, Luke.”

Will fully expects a (completely justified) rant about Luke’s behavior on the drive back to the office. Nico’s uncharacteristically quiet, though, shooting Will an appraising look as he eases himself into the passenger seat and then flicking the radio on low. Will closes his eyes, tilting his head against the cool glass of the window.

“You okay?” Nico finally asks as they let themselves into the basement office.

“Headache,” Will says, short, dropping into his chair. He rubs at the bridge of his nose.

Nico hums in understanding. He digs in a drawer for a moment. “Tylenol?” He shakes the bottle at Will.

“Please.”

Nico tosses the little bottle across the office, a neat shot that should have landed directly in Will’s outstretched palm. Will fumbles it and sighs, dropping out of his chair to crawl under his desk.

Nico laughs, but when Will surfaces again, the other man is on his feet, a sympathetic look on his face.

“Where are you off to?” Will asks, blearily looking around for his water bottle.

“Coffee. I think you need it.” Nico says simply, a squeeze to Will’s shoulder as he walks past, collecting his coat at the door.

“God, yes,” Will groans, dropping his head heavily to the desk. “Have I mentioned how much I love you?” He’s tired and muddled and the words are out before he realizes what he’s said. He freezes, head to the wood of his desk, feeling his face heat.

There’s a pause across the room, then a huff of laughter. “I’ll be right back,” Nico says, his voice softer than before.

Will’s mostly recovered his composure by the time Nico returns with the coffee, flipping through files with (finally) a pastry on a paper napkin next to him. When Nico hands over the Dunkin’ cup, Will accepts it gratefully, taking a small sip and then several gulps after determining the temperature is below-scalding. He glances up to see Nico watching him, something soft in his gaze.

“What?” Will laughs, self-conscious. Nico shakes his head, smiling. A second later Will feels Nico’s touch at his wrist, making his stomach lurch pleasantly; a brush of fingers over bare skin.

Will blinks up at the other man.

“Didn’t realize it was formal Wednesday,” Nico says, his voice catching lower than Will expected.

“Oh,” Will laughs, flustered, glancing down to the silver cufflinks he put on this morning. “Those were my dad’s. My mom gave them to me when I was in Fort Worth.”

“Nice,” Nico murmurs. They gaze at each other for a moment, heat buzzing in the air between them. There’s something unreadable in Nico’s expression. Something thoughtful, maybe resolving. Something warm.

Will glances away, suddenly eager for a change of subject.

“You know, I think I’d like to see if they’ve got the autopsy report yet – from the victim at the office building,” Will says.

Nico nods. “Yeah, good idea. You gonna head upstairs?”

“Yeah.” Will stands. He supposes he’ll have to. He’d prefer to avoid interacting with Luke as much as he can, honestly. But he at least can pretend to be a grown up about this.

“You won’t be offended if I don’t come along?” Nico asks, dry. “I’m not sure my presence would be appreciated.”

“No, you don’t have to come.” Will makes a face. “Look, I’m – I’m sorry about Luke. I didn’t have any idea he was going to be… the way he’s been.”

Nico shakes his head, dismissive. “Definitely not your fault.”

Will takes the stairs up to the second floor, giving himself a bit more time to mentally prepare. The gods must be smiling on him, anyway, because when he reaches the Violent Crimes section, it’s quiet, Luke’s cubicle empty. Will rounds the partition to Annabeth’s, knocking softly on the dividing wall.

Annabeth’s head rises at the sound.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” Will asks.

“Yeah, of course,” Annabeth smiles. “Here, pull up a chair. Luke just left for lunch.”

“Oh,” Will says, “that’s – that’s good to know.” He hopes his relief isn’t too obvious. But it probably is. He can feel the throbbing in his head decrease by a couple of degrees.

Annabeth’s lips twitch. “Yeah,” she agrees. “I was just going over the autopsy report from the third victim –”

“Oh, perfect. That’s mostly why I came up here.” Will grabs a chair from the corner, pulling up next to Annabeth when she shifts to make room.

“It’s odd,” Annabeth’s saying, thoughtful. “What do you make of this?” She flips to the third page in the report, the toxicology screen, tapping a line with her finger and pushing it over to Will.

Will reads it over, frowning. “They found… evidence of an unknown sedative compound. That is odd.”

“Yes. It looks to be something that was ingested very shortly before the victim’s demise.”

“So something administered by the murderer, maybe?” Will asks, scanning down the rest of the page.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Annabeth agrees. “No obvious site of administration, though, and the perpetrator doesn’t seem to have used any substance that the tox screen recognized.”

“Anything similar on the previous autopsies?” Will asks.

“Nothing so obvious,” Annabeth says. “There were some wonky tox results on the first victim, but nothing as specific as this. And you know what else is strange,” Annabeth continues, flipping a couple of pages, “there’s no one living at the address Tooms provided at the police station.”

“Sketchy,” Will says. “Was it an old address, maybe?”

“That’s what I thought too,” Annabeth says, “but there’s no record of him ever living in that apartment, or any others in that block. I checked with the building management this morning.”

There’s an uncomfortable knot in Will’s stomach, growing. Luke’s positive that Tooms isn’t the guy, but there are just too many coincidences to ignore. He thinks back to his long-distance call this morning, a mother halfway across the world still mourning her son decades later.

“Hey, back at the crime scene, you mentioned some fingerprint evidence,” Annabeth says.

“Yeah,” Will says slowly.

“Not ready to share with the class yet?” Annabeth smiles.

Will sighs. “No. It’s not that. Just –” He glances around the cubicle farm, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone nearby. “I – I don’t want to cause problems. For Nico.”

Annabeth’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

Will grimaces, wondering how much he should share. The idea of getting some of the weight off his chest is tempting. And he’s not worried about Annabeth reporting everything he says to Luke.

“Luke… doesn’t like Nico. Obviously,” Will begins. He chances a glance to Annabeth, who looks sympathetic. “And I know that Octavian isn’t a big fan of Nico’s either, or of our department. Luke – he mentioned something earlier, at the crime scene. He kind of alluded to being friends with Octavian, that Luke would report back to him, if he thought Nico wasn’t… handling things the way Luke thought he should,” Will finishes, awkward. He really doesn’t like the feeling that he’s trying to tattle on Luke – never mind that Luke just threatened to do the same to Nico. But he’s feeling nauseous and exhausted about the whole thing. It feels a tiny bit better telling Annabeth.

Annabeth taps her pen on her desk, a twist to her mouth. “Well,” she says finally, “last I checked, Octavian didn’t have any friends.”

Will breathes out a laugh, nervous.

“I won’t tell you not to worry about it, but I think Luke’s mostly just blowing off steam, to be honest,” Annabeth says. “I don’t believe he has a closer relationship to Octavian than anyone else in the department. And Luke certainly isn’t Nico’s supervisor, or yours.”

Will feels that impulse he always does, to smooth things over, to reassure that he’s okay. “Thanks, Annabeth. That’s – good to hear. And look, I know this is Luke’s case, and I definitely don’t want to be the one to step on his toes, or to be responsible for bringing Nico into a situation where he does the same thing –”

“It’s not just Luke’s case,” Annabeth interrupts. “It’s our case.”

“Oh.” Will frowns, diverted. “He – he said something about your section leader being involved in another case, so Luke was running this one on his own –”

Annabeth’s eyebrows rise higher and higher as Will stammers out this sentence, and Will feels himself going red with realization.

“Oh shit.” Will presses a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” Annabeth agrees, unimpressed. “Our section leader is away, yes. So Luke and I were asked to lead this case.”

“He – he didn’t – specifically mention that,” Will says haltingly. “I’m – I’m sorry, Annabeth. I didn’t mean to –”

Annabeth’s already shaking her head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. It’s not entirely surprising to me. But I’m glad you mentioned it. Even if you didn’t mean to.”

Will lets out a breath. “This is why they keep me in the basement,” he mutters. “So I can’t embarrass myself by talking to my colleagues.”

Annabeth lets out a laugh. “Really, don’t worry about it. I’d love to hear about the fingerprint evidence, though. If you feel comfortable telling me.”

“I showed the prints to Luke this morning – I don’t know if he mentioned…” Will trails off as Annabeth’s mouth twists into a frown.

“He didn’t,” she says.

Will sighs. “Okay. I’ll give you the run-down, then.” Will is hesitant at first – because Nico’s findings are honestly bizarre and as much as he’s gotten used to bizarre in the basement, up here in the noonday light shining over the cubicles, he knows that things tend to fit better into boxes. He and Annabeth have similar backgrounds – medicine, science. There’s no reason for her to accept something that doesn’t seem to make any sense.

“That’s incredible,” Annabeth says, something like wonder in her eyes. “I’d love to have a look at the prints later. Have you thought of any explanation for them being elongated like that?”

“It’s weird, right?” Will agrees, excitement growing with such an easy reception. “I’d thought of some disorder like Ehlers-Danlos, where the skin has increased elasticity, but this is extreme.”

Annabeth nods. “Maybe… I wonder if there could be an extreme manifestation of that disorder, something that’s never been documented. Or maybe some condition that would cause a rapid increase in collagen. If Nico truly thinks the murderer is accessing the victims through the ductwork… something like that might make sense, right? An extreme variant of a disorder that causes hypermobility?”

“Definitely,” Will agrees.

Annabeth’s phone buzzes on her desk. “Oh shoot, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes,” she says, distracted. “I’d love to talk more about this though, and I’d love to come have a look at the prints.”

They both rise. “That would be great. Any time,” Will says, sincere.

“Walk with me down to the main floor?” Annabeth says.

“Sure.” Will stands, following Annabeth out of the cubicle maze.

“Hey, it was good talking to you,” he says as they enter the stairwell. It really was. Will feels as if some of the weight’s been lifted from his shoulders.

“You too,” Annabeth smiles. “I always liked our chats when I was at Quantico.”

Will catches sight of the cafeteria sign as they exit the stairwell at the main floor. “Oh, meatball soup today,” he says. “I better go tell Nico. He gets grouchy when he misses meatball soup day.”

“I’ve never tried the meatball soup,” Annabeth says. “Is it good?”

“Well.” Will makes a face. “It’s –” He shoots a quick look around the lobby. “To be completely honest, it’s pretty mediocre. But Nico was so excited for me to try it the first time I just – I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

Annabeth smiles. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Nico’s very interested in the updates from Annabeth, and he and Will discuss matters as they take the elevator to the eighth floor, and as they make their way through the cafeteria line and then through their meatball soup. They’re in the stairwell, heading back down to the basement when Will remembers – “Annabeth mentioned that Alexandria PD checked out Tooms’ apartment, looks like it was a cover. No one’s lived there in years.”

“Well that’s suspicious.”

Nico’s quiet as they reach the basement and unlock the office. He crosses to his desk, digging for a file. “What was the address of Tooms’ apartment?”

“Um – an apartment building on Carrington Place, I think,” Will says. “I can’t remember the number.”

Nico considers the file for a long moment before looking back to Will. “I have an idea,” he says, slow.

“When do you not?” Will grins. He shifts to sit on the edge of his desk.

Nico ignores this. “103-66 Exeter Street.”

“What’s there?”

“Well,” Nico begins, “I was looking through the historical files, while you were upstairs earlier. One of the victims in 1909 was killed at 66 Exeter. Another was killed two blocks away. 66 Exeter was the address listed for one Eugene Victor Tooms in 1909.”

“Interesting,” Will says. “That’s got to be… what? A grandfather? Great-grandfather?” He’s beginning to feel the tell-tale post-lunch desire for a nap and it feels difficult to force his brain into mathematical calculations.

“Possibly,” Nico allows. “But what about the prints? Prints from 1909 are a match to the ones taken yesterday.”

“That could be genetics,” Will says slowly, though he’s not really convinced himself. “It might also explain other patterns, the sociopathic attitudes and behavior. It begins with one family member, who raises the next, who raises the next…”

Nico looks skeptical. “Could be.”

“Do you think Tooms is living in the building on Exeter?”

“I think someone is,” Nico says rather mysteriously. He stands from his desk, a familiar glint in his eye. “Wanna go for a drive?”

Will lets out a jaw-cracking yawn as Nico parks on Exeter Street. He hears Nico snort beside him. It’s a brisk, sunny day, a nice change of pace from the dim basement and the stiff tension at the murder scene this morning. Will takes a deep breath of spring air as he steps out of the car, taking a second to turn his face up to the sunlight. As much as he’s grown to love the cozy basement office, he does sometimes miss having a window, the opportunity to follow the passage of the sun across the sky over the day.

Will looks over to see Nico watching him, a small smile on his face.

“Beautiful day to solve a murder,” Nico says.

It’s a short walk up the block to number 66. The street is filled with derelict buildings, some boarded up. None look habitable. They climb the cement stairs together. The entrance to the building was probably pretty at one time, two tall wooden doors with little crescent windows at the top. Now, though, one door is missing entirely, a pane of glass broken in the one still standing.

The building is dark once they leave the front entryway and both men reach for their flashlights. Will takes a moment to scan the hallway, blinking as his eyes adjust. The place is dilapidated, but it doesn’t look to be in any immediate danger of collapse. They pause, checking the numbers on the dusty doors. Down the hall there’s a skittering; some variety of small animal, probably.

“This way,” Nico says, muted in the dusty hall, and Will follows. They near the end of the hallway and the door to 103 swings open at Nico’s touch.

It’s a small apartment, bare but for some debris around the edges of the room, filtered sunlight attempting to penetrate a dirty window on the far wall. Will crosses the room to scan a small bedroom off to the side, the smaller room in a similar state, the single window boarded up. The whole place smells sour, something rotten catching at the back of Will’s throat. He suppresses a shudder.

He can’t help glancing over his shoulder, squinting into every corner, though he’s sure the room is empty. It feels claustrophobic somehow, closing in. Will’s back in the main room of the apartment quickly, reluctant to linger.

“Nothing in the bedroom,” Will says, his voice coming back to him in the empty space.

“Look at this,” Nico says, quiet. He’s in the corner, his attention on a battered mattress propped up against the wall. He tucks his flashlight under his arm and pulls on latex gloves.

Will approaches, donning gloves as well. Together, they shift the mattress and lower it to the floor, careful not to stir up too much dust.

“Jesus,” Will murmurs, blinking at a hole in the wall that had been hidden by the mattress.

Both men approach the opening cautiously, but the floor surrounding it seems solid enough. There seems to be a ladder inside, leading to somewhere below. Nico crouches and presses on the wall around the opening, testing the integrity of the plaster. He grabs a hold of the top rung of the ladder, gives it a shake. It doesn’t budge.

Nico turns, quirking an eyebrow. “Spot me?”

Will grimaces, but takes a step closer. There’s a creeping feeling here, visceral and wrong, something he can’t quite put his finger on. He opens his mouth to voice this to his partner, despite the fact that he doesn’t think he can explain why this feels like such a bad idea. He’s well aware that “I have a bad feeling about this” isn’t scientific in any way.

But before Will can think it through any further, Nico’s through the opening, a nimble climb down to whatever lies beneath. Will hesitates, wondering if it’s more prudent to stay above in case he needs to call for backup, or an ambulance if the ladder isn’t as sturdy as it looks. But the bottom appears to be only a story below, and Will sighs, turning to follow his partner down. He finds his footing a moment after Nico, who automatically reaches a hand out to steady him as Will misses the last rung.

They pause, casting flashlight beams around the dark space they’ve found themselves in. The smell is worse down here; damp and mildewy. Something rotting.

“Looks like an old coal cellar,” Will says, low. There’s no reason to keep their voices down, not really, but, there’s a strange, pressing feeling, like they’re being watched. Or stalked. Will flicks his flashlight back on, his other hand brushing the gun at his belt, just making sure.

The smell of rot grows stronger the further in they walk, the air cool and clammy. The ceiling is low enough that Will has to duck to avoid pipes. Clinging cobwebs catch on their hair and the concrete floor is cracked and uneven. The close atmosphere combined with the stench and the pounding behind Will’s eyes is making him queasy.

At the far end of the cellar there’s a bend in the building, what looks like it could lead to a room, or a hallway, but it turns out to be more of a nook, plaster crumbling to the floor.

Nico approaches for a closer look, cautious.

“Careful,” Will murmurs. “That wall looks like it might come down on you.” The source of the smell must be nearby. Will’s eyes are watering.

“No,” Nico says slowly, looking it over. “I don’t think it’s part of the building’s structure. Someone… made this.”

“What?”

“Look,” Nico takes a step to the side so Will can approach. The sight before them doesn’t make sense at first, revealed in increments by the twin flashlight beams. But as Will looks longer, he realizes it’s a mess of rags and bits of newspaper, somehow all glued together into a misshapen structure that seems to have become part of the wall around it.

“This is a nest,” Nico says, equal parts amazed and horrified. Still clad in latex gloves, he presses his fingers against the structure. The surface gives under his touch and then slowly regains its shape when Nico pulls back. Something green oozes out. Will leans closer, wanting a better look but not eager to touch. Then, he draws back suddenly, fighting down a gag.

“It looks like – the green stuff – I think it’s bile.” Will takes another step back. “How is that – do you think someone lives in there?” His brain is fighting to make sense of this at the same time as it’s screaming at him to run.

Nico gazes at the structure, an abomination of a paper mache. “I don’t think anyone lives in there so much as… hibernates.”

Will shudders. He’s not sure he’s ever wanted to get away from a place faster. He glances over his shoulder, convulsive, feeling more than ever that there are eyes on him. “Hibernates?” he asks under his breath.

“Imagine if…” Nico takes a step back from the wall and turns to Will, his eyes serious in the dark space. “What if some genetic mutation could allow a man to awaken every few decades? And what if he could sustain himself for that hibernation period by consuming human livers?”

The horror Will’s feeling is somewhat mirrored on his partner’s face, but there’s also that familiar look of amazement and discovery in Nico’s dark eyes.

“What would - what could the evolutionary advantage be? To such a mutation?” Will asks, trying for reasonable. He’s still half-trying to convince himself that this cannot be possible. But he can’t help but think of the bizarre, elongated prints. The unidentified substance on the autopsy report. The impossible points of entry. If those things can be true, why not this?

Nico pauses, his gaze drifting. “Hard to say. I mean, longevity, I suppose?”

“To what end? And what about… reproduction?”

“Yeah,” Nico says thoughtfully, seemingly not particularly put off by having this discussion in the crumbling basement of a lair possibly belonging to a genetically mutated serial killer. “Good point.”

“In any case”, Will says. “He’s not here now, but he’s going to come back. At some point.” He glances over his shoulder again, nervous. “Can we – why don’t we get a sample from this… nest.” Will grimaces, approaching the wall again and digging in his coat pocket for a sample tube.

There’s just so much of the green gunk, everywhere. He’s more aware of it the longer he looks, seeping out in gluey drips and congealed to a brownish yellow across the surface like some kind of horrible glaze. Will carefully collects a sample, dropping the little vial into his coat pocket. It definitely looks like bile, but… more gluey. Viscous. And bile doesn’t have much of a smell. But Will feels certain it’s related. He’s not usually so squeamish about possible bodily fluids, but this one just feels so wrong.

“We need to stake this place out,” Nico is saying. sounding much more certain than Will feels. His eyes flick to Will’s, maybe reading hesitation there. “You don’t think so?”

“No, I do…” Will says, gazing somewhat longingly toward the hole they climbed through, the path back to the upper world. “I’m just wondering how we’re going to spin it so Luke agrees.”

Nico’s brow furrows. “Since when do you care about Luke’s agreement?”

Will sighs. His stomach twists again, the memory of Luke’s threats just a few hours ago. If this was any other case, he’d be more than willing to follow Nico’s lead. But he’s more and more worried about Nico leading himself right out of a job. “Look, this is bizarre, and definitely suspicious. But you know how Luke is. He’s going to want something more solid to go on before he’s willing to admit you’re right.”

Nico doesn’t answer, turned away to examine the nest. Will tries again.

“Maybe we can run some forensics first. Or present it to Annabeth,” Will says, thinking aloud. “She’ll be reasonable.” His head is still pounding and the smell is really getting to him.

“This is reasonable,” Nico says, voice rising. “Look around you. You’ve got an oozing paper mache bile nest, a secret hibernation hideout at the suspect’s last known address. How much more reasonable do we need to be?”

Will blinks, a little caught off-guard by the intensity of his partner’s reaction. Nico seems to read it on his face.

“Sorry.” Nico shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to direct that at you. I’m just – it’s frustrating. This whole case just takes me right back to when I was working at Violent Crimes – I felt like I was never being taken seriously. Like I was some kind of joke.”

Will nods in understanding. “There are more than a few dickheads in that department. Clawing their way to whatever they think the top is.”

“Yeah,” Nico says, deflating a bit. “You’re right, though. We can try to get along before we try anything else. Let’s get some forensic evidence and see how that pans out before we investigate this site any further.”

Will nods.

“Hey, look at this,” Nico says suddenly, crouching and angling his flashlight downwards. Will peers over Nico’s shoulder.

There’s the glint of metal, and when Will looks closer, he sees a row of small objects lined up against the wall beside the nest. The horrible green substance has trickled out across the floor here, seeping into cracks, a gooey line partially obscuring most of the objects.

“They’re trophies,” Nico says, horrified.

“Fuck,” Will breaths out. “Are you sure?”

Nico glances up. “Yeah, I’d be willing to bet. We should take note of what’s here and compare it with the case files back at the office.”

“Should we just take them as evidence?”

Nico hesitates. “No. I don’t think we want him to know we’ve been here, if we can help it.” With a gloved fingertip, Nico gently prods at one of the objects; a tie clip, maybe, or a barrette. It doesn’t budge, glued to the floor with the greenish-brown goo. “We won’t even be able to move most of these without it being obvious that we’ve disturbed them,” he mutters. Then – “look at this one, on the very end.”

Will squints. The trinket is larger than most of the others, a shiny gold disc. It’s cleaner than the other items, too, like perhaps it was only placed there recently. “A pocket watch?”

“Pretty sure the most recent victim was missing a pocket watch,” Nico says. He nudges it. It’s the only object that seems to be completely free of gunk. “We should be able to get prints off it, too.” He fishes around in his jacket pockets, pulling out a notepad and paper. “Fuck, I forgot my camera.”

��Oh – I brought the new one,” Will says, reaching into his own coat pocket.

“Amazing.” Nico accepts the camera, snapping a few pictures before handing the notepad to Will. “Here. Can you take dictation? Your handwriting is better than mine.” He gives Will a sympathetic look. “And then you can move a little further away from the stench. You’re looking green.”

When Will arrives the next morning, he’s anxious and underslept, his head still lightly throbbing. He’d had the same dream over and over last night, each time he managed to drift off; vague visions of a man appearing in his bedroom, watching him in the dark. It had spooked him so badly he’d had to sleep with the light on.

He gives Nico a vague wave and a half-smile when he enters the office, hanging his coat and crossing to drop heavily into his chair.

“Everything okay?” comes Nico’s voice.

Will turns, making a valiant attempt to look more alive than he feels. “Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep.” He yawns hugely.

Nico hums in sympathy. “Coffee’s on,” he says, nodding at the little five-cupper on the counter, just gurgling out the last few drops to fill the pot.

“Yay,” Will says, rising instantly and making a beeline for the pot. “You want some too?”

“Yeah, please.”

“Hey, what do you think about this?” Nico asks when Will brings his coffee over, setting it carefully in the few square inches of available real estate on the desk.

Nico taps a file. “This is one of the victims from 1939. There’s a pretty thorough description of what the victim was wearing when she went missing. No photos, unfortunately, but it mentions a bracelet – gold with two small rubies.”

Will nods, remembering Nico’s dictation yesterday. “Yeah, that sounds like it matches up. I remember a gold bracelet. Can I see the camera?”

Will scans through the pictures Nico took at Exeter yesterday, finally finding the bracelet. “Too bad the light wasn’t better,” he muses. “But this could definitely be the one.” He turns the camera to show Nico, who nods, serious.

“Hey,” Will says, flipping through the photos more slowly now. “Nolan Campbell – the victim whose mother I was talking to – she said Nolan was wearing his dad’s class ring when he went missing. There were a couple of rings, weren’t there?” Will clicks back and forth between several poorly-exposed photos. “Do you think this could be a class ring?” he asks Nico, turning the camera again.

Nico squints at it, then takes the camera from Will, turning it slightly. “Yeah, that could be it. It was kind of half-buried in a crevice, remember? It definitely had that kind of signet shape.” Nico continues to poke at buttons, trying to zoom in, grimacing at the little screen.

“God, I’d love to get that ring back to his mom,” Will says, his voice going rough.

Nico looks up, a sympathetic twist to his mouth. Will shakes his head. He really doesn’t want to get back into that right now. “Did you find any other matches?” he asks.

“Yeah, one more.” Nico sets the camera down, reaching for another file. “There was a silver ring – one of the 1909 victims. No further description – so that could match. And then I was thinking about the article you found, about the animal attack –”

“Yeah, me too,” Will agrees. “Field trip to the library?”

Nico beams.

(here is part 2 of chapter 6!)

#nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #x-files au #annabeth chase #luke castellan #reyna ramirez arellano #rated teen #casefic #fluff and angst #still slow burning along #tw: kidnapping #my writing

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