#oh also warning for rape as y all know from the original story | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

Text

Hypothetically | Chapter 1-5

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

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

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

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

Word Count: 15k

chapter 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” He blushed.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t mind that at all!”

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

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

“Got it, genius girl, over and out.”

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do this.”

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

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

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

“Travis Johnson? FBI!” Spencer yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely!”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you and Spencer?” JJ asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you dance?” Y/N asked Spencer.

“I can try.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” She said nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oooooo,” Penelope and JJ teased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly!” JJ laughed.

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

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

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

“We were having girl time,” Penelope smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, is it your favourite?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re spiritual?” He asks.

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

“Do you enjoy it?”

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

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

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

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

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

He laughed, “yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Spencer.” She whispered.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

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

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

—

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

“Hey, it’s Penelope.”

“What’s up?”

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

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

“Us?”

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

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

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

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

“Why’d you lie?” He asked.

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

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

“So you just helped the guys win?”

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

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

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

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

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

She blushed, “of course you did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Technically?” He repeated softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get back here,” she giggled.

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

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

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

He was in love with her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow,” Spencer finally says.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

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

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

“Sounds like a date.”

chapter 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Emily pried?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We got something.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Cause?” Prentiss asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smacked his arm lightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The park,” Spencer said softly.

“Is that the middle ground?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“What is that?” Spencer asks.

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

“That’s really smart,” he smiled.

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

“Let’s go tell Hotch.”

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

“Penny for your thoughts?” Spencer asked.

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

“Okay?” He followed along.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Yes, my love?” He says softly.

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

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

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

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

“More specifically.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why November?” Penelope asked over the phone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure thing, whatcha got?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"When was this?" Spencer asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Name and address?” Spencer asked.

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

“How cold?” Y/N asked.

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

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

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

“Let’s go.”

Hotch kicked the trailer door in, “FBI!”

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

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

“Sad in what context?”

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

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

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

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

“Yes?” Spencer answered.

“We found the wombs.”

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

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

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

“Don’t tempt him!” Prentiss joked.

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

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

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

“What happened?” Morgan asked.

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

“That would do it,” Hotch agreed.

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

“I know him well.”

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

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

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

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

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

chapter 4

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

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

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

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

“Remember how I moved?” She started there.

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Spencer asked.

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

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

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

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

“At a hotel downtown,” Y/N explained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“absolutely.”

-—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you need?” She asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be right there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? The gun or my attitude?”

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

“What if I want you to worry?”

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

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

“I love you too,” he smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?”

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

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

“The same thing happened to my parents.”

“What’s their story?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s make a deal,” she said softly, “in 1 year we come back here, and if we feel the exact same way as we do right now, you can propose to me.”

He put his pinky out for her, she wrapped hers around his, before kissing each other's knuckles. “Promise.” Spencer and Y/N said at the same time.

—

Back in the hotel room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash before slamming Spencer against the door. She slid her thigh between both his legs and boxed him in.

She undid the single button of his suit jacket, shushing Spencer. She pushed it off his arms, knocking it to the floor. She loosened his tie, tossing it to the side, still around his neck, while she unbuttoned his shirt.

He was completely silent and still. She was in control.

She tossed his shirt to the ground next. Holding onto his tie as she pulled him down into a heated kiss.

“Take my dress off,” she breathed into his mouth, feeling his hands reach around her back for the zipper.

He pushed the sleeves down her arms, watching the dress gather at her ankles before she stepped out and kicked the fabric out of the way. She tugged him by his tie towards the bed.

“Strip,” she instructed him. “Not the tie.”

“Underwear too?” He asked as she dug through his suitcase.

“yes.”

She returned with 2 more ties. Looking at him, butt naked on the bed. She stepped out of her underwear and the uncomfortable strapless bra. She set her gun in the hotel safe with her badge and returned to the bed.

“Would you be willing to try something?” She asked.

“anything,” he said, overly eager.

“Would you tie my hands to the bedpost and blindfold me and just do whatever you want?”

“Hold on,” he got off the bed and opened his go-bag side pocket. “I have a blindfold for the plane.”

“So you want to?”

Actions speak louder than words, he would always say.

He dimmed the lights down, got on the bed and roughly picked her up laying her back against the pillows. He tied her left hand first, and then her right hand. He took a hair elastic off the bedside table and put her hair back as best he could before he rested the blindfold against her forehead.

He hovered over her. “Anything I want?” Spencer confirmed.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Ground rules?”

“Yellow for slow down, red for stop?” She shrugged.

“You really mean anything?”

“I trust you, Spencer Reid, make me feel good,” she smiled.

He kissed her on the nose before coving her eyes with the blindfold.

She had always wanted to try this, it was a kink she had always been determined to try. She took a deep breath and tried her best to listen to him as he moved to sit between her spread legs.

He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips before following the curve to her waist. He gripped her waist tightly and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, breathing her in as he kissed.

She wasn’t embarrassed about her tummy, for the first time in her life she loved her body. She felt him kiss all over her chest, dragging his bottom lip along her skin. He licked a stripe between her breasts, dropping his chin to her chest then to blow lightly over the wet trail.

She felt her nipples harden, she could physically hear the smirk that spread across his face.

He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands as he groped her lightly. She squirmed, trying her best to grind her hips against his.

He pushed her hips against the bed, “be patient.”

He disappeared then. She felt his weight shift and get off the bed. She let out a deep breath, knowing she told him he could do anything and that included punishing her. She literally asked for it.

“I picked something up after you dropped me off,” she heard him say from the other side of the room.

He walked around for a minute, taking something out of a hard plastic container. He struggled with ripping it, she heard papers fall the floor and something hard hit the floor. “Shit.”

She heard him walk towards the bathroom, she crossed her ankles and just waited.

He came back to the bed, moving her legs apart like they were when he left. “stay.”

He crawled between her legs once more, his hand brushed her thigh and it was cold and wet like he washed his hands.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head feverishly.

She heard a small buzzing, an all too failure sound. The first place she feels the vibration is in her belly button. Causing her to let out a shocked little giggle.

“Shhh,” he smiled.

He dragged the little bullet vibrator down her stomach, over her pelvis and finally, finally, against her clit. She let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh of relief.

All she wanted was for someone else to control her pleasure, surprise her, set the rhythm, the speed, everything. She spent so long pleasuring herself, she was so ready to sit back and just take it.

Spencer felt the same. He took his time, feeling every inch of her skin, kissing every single place he wanted to. He spent so much time just looking. Finding freckles and scars and kissing them. He was mesmerized by the fact she was real, that a beautiful woman would lay down in front of him, spread open like this and just let him explore. It felt like the best wet dream his brain could ever conjure.

She could feel him getting closer to her. His weight shifted and she felt his breath on her leg. She took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach in the anticipation of feeling a tongue on her for the first time ever.

He turned off the vibrator. Setting it to the side as he looped his arms around her thighs. Just admiring the view. Just then her whole body shivered as she anticipated the heat of his tongue.

He pressed a kiss to her clit first before flattening his tongue against her. “Sweet fucking Jesus Christ,” she gasped.

“I’ve never done this before,” he breathed against her.

“Explore away, sir,” she whispered.

He clearly did research, if he didn’t just say this was his first time eating someone out, she would think he was an expert. She regretted having her hands tied up at that moment. She squirmed, he held her hips down. She gripped the ties around her wrists wishing it was Spencer's hair.

She was never big into overstimulation or denial, never having the willpower to keep going after making herself cum once. Spencer, however, had the ability to bring her to the edge again and again without ever letting her spillover.

She didn’t beg, she didn’t complain, she sat there in the blissful feeling and waited. It was heavenly.

“Spence,” her breathing was heavy.

He hummed, letting her know he was listening. His tongue still wiggling back and forth on her clit.

“Can you please just fuck me now?”

He kissed his way back to her mouth. All up her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and jaw. She could taste herself on his lips, “untie me?” She asked softly.

He let one hand free, which she immediately used to grip his hair. The second hand was freed and she pushed the blindfold up and worked her way into a sitting position while he kneeled in front of her.

“Anything else you want to try?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes once again. She pushed his hair out of his face and just looked at him.

“Lie back and roll over,” he instructed.

He pulled her into a face-down, ass-up position and aligned himself with her. Pushing in little by little till he bottomed out. He reached around the bed for the vibrator and placed it in her one hand.

“You decide when you cum,” was all he said before he started fucking her.

She white-knuckled the pillow as he rammed into her, she was arched in the most perfect way for him to hit her g spot every time he rammed into her.

“My hair,” she gasped, wanting him to grab her by her ponytail as he fucked her.

With one hand on her hip to steady her and the other in her hair, he fucked into her like his life depended on it. Her legs were quaking, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t cum soon.

She flicked on the vibrator and pressed it against her own clit, feeling the familiar heat bubble in her stomach. “Fuck me, oh god,” she chanted.

Cuming with a shout, she dug her face into the pillow and all but screamed. Pushing back against Spencer as he bucked into her one last time and erupted inside of her.

His hips shook as he emptied his load before slowly pulling out and dropping down beside her.

She turned her head to look at him, eyeliner and mascara all smudged around her eyes, makeup all over the pillow. She was trying her hardest to catch her breath, staring at him with a smile on her face.

“If sex was an Olympic sport, I think we’d win,” she complimented him.

“you think?” He asked, his breath just as shaky as hers.

She rolled onto her back, letting him cuddle into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. “Everyone told me that the first time I have sex it’ll be underwhelming and uneventful, and yet every time we fuck I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I should invest in a wheelchair.”

He laughed, “would you put that in writing and send it to everyone from our high school?”

She smacked his arm. “and then I’d have to swat women off you with a bat if I wanted any alone time, you’re mine now.” She wrapped her whole body around him and held him there.

“I love you,” Spencer smiled.

“I love you, more.”

chapter 5

They packed everything into their car just to go to her parents house. There was something in Y/N’s gut that told her there was a case coming.

Her parents lived 30 minutes out of the city, on the edge of a cul-de-sac that faced a park. They had lived there since she was 5, it was her mom’s dream home. It was the only place in the town she had good memories in.

Y/N’s mother brought Diana home with her after work. They were waiting in the kitchen for Spencer and Y/N when they arrived. Tonights guests included not just them but Y/N’s youngest brother Levi, his wife Lizzie and their 2 year-old Chloe.

“There’s my girl!” Her dad cheered, standing up and rushing to give her a real hug. “Did you get taller?”

“it’s the boots,” she laughed, holding onto him tightly.

“You look great! The FBI is treating you well,” her dad was always one to compliment her. He pulled back and looked at Spencer. More like glared at him.

“Nice to meet you Sir, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid,” he said, shockingly extending his hand to shake her father's.

The profiler in her knew he was breaking his comfort zone to appease her baby boomer, ex-cop, father.

Her dad always did this thing when he met new men where he squeezed their hands to see how much they could take. “Harrison Y/L/N Sr.” She watched Spencers hand shake as he squeezed right back.

“Strong shake.” Her father complimented him. “She must have warned you.”

“No, he just knows how to read people,” Y/N laughed.

“Well come sit down Doctor Spencer Reid,” he teased him. “Let me interrogate the profiler.”

“Here we go,” Y/N laughed, placing a hand on Spencer's back as she led him into the kitchen.

They sat down together, Spencers mom, Diana, just across from him at the table. They smiled and nodded at each other in a quiet little hello.

“I would ask you to tell me a bit about yourself, but Y/N has kept me all caught up with you over the years,” her dad said. “You went to CalTech at 13, somewhere in there you got a degree from MIT, she idolized you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she blushed.

“It’s very flattering, but if anything I’m now huge fan of her’s. In the last 3 weeks she has been the one to find the major break in 3 of our cases. She is amazing at what she does, you raised an incredible woman,” Spencer replied, praising her in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Go on then, tell us about these cases then,” her dad asked.

And with that they got lost in all things horrific. Spencer explained, verbatim, how each case went down and exactly what Y/N came up with to solve them. She answered little questions here and there but mostly it was Spencer showing off how much he loved his girlfriend.

Her mom passed out dinner plates in the middle of the talk, some how all of them were able to discuss cases and eat at the same time. Her mom made burgers and potato salad for dinner, just something simple for them all.

“Did you really offer to fuck a serial killer?” Her brother asked, disgusted.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I knew in his sick twisted mind he wouldn’t be able to refuse a woman willing to let him do what he wanted and as soon as the weapon was down, so was he.”

“I always told you she’d be able to kick your ass, Levi,” her dad said. “Ever since she was a kid I knew she had it in her to wrestle someone to the ground.”

“Yeah, Spence didn’t believe me that I’m combat trained.”

“No,” Spencer interjected, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t ever think you’d be able to take me down.”

“And did you?” Her mom asked.

Her face turned bright red. “Yeah, I showed one of my combat maneuvers on him, we were all horsing around and I showed them how to go from being pinned to the ground to being the one on top.”

“How?” Her brother’s wife asked.

“Yeah demonstrate!” Her mom innocently cheered them on not knowing she was mid sex with him when she showed him how to do it.

“Um okay, Lizzie come with me,” she said, saving Spencer the awkwardness of having to straddle her in the middle of her family home.

She laid down on the floor, “you basically have to just pin me down how ever you see fit.”

Lizzie, sat on her, holding her shoulders down with one forearm. Y/N, quickly flipped her onto her back, making sure to catch her head as she did so. Not wanting her to smack it off the hardwood floor.

“Like that,” Y/N stood up and helped Lizzie to her feet. “Made sure all the girls knew how to do that.” She lied.

“As you should!” Her dad cheered, “nice to know your team all has each others backs.”

“How do they all feel about you two?” Diana asked. She had been mostly quiet all night, just enjoying time outside of where she was used to.

“They love it, they’ve been placing bets about us,” Y/N laughed.

“Like what?” Her dad asked.

“If he would kiss me first, if we’d tell the team ever, they even had one about who is most likely to say I love you first, they’re insufferable,” Y/N ranted.

“So what team one?” Her brother teased, just trying the embarrass her.

“He kissed me first, he told the team that we were together after like 10 hours and he was the first to say I love you,” Y/N blushed.

“Does she still have the I love you problem?” Her mom asked innocently but received a death glare from Y/N.

“Uh no, she says it to me too.” Spencer noticed the awkwardness.

“Any plans for baby number two?” Y/N asked Levi, changing the subject faster than ever.

She’d be lying if she said she was listening to the answer, her ears were ringing and all she cold focus on was Spencer’s hand on her back. Her mom was about to pass out cake when she excused herself to the bathroom, and ended up in her old bedroom.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing the words her mother said over and over in her mind. “Does she still have the I love you problem?”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes and just breathed. She didn’t want him to know about that yet.

Spencer knocked on her door, opening it softly and peaking his head in. “Do you want company?”

She nodded.

He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, running his hands along her thighs. “Are you okay?”

“I told you about Christopher?” She said softly.

“yes.”

“In order to get me to do what he did, he would always say I had to because he loved me,” she explained. A tear dripped down her cheek and landed on his hand. “And so for 7 years after I never told anyone I knew that I loved them.”

“That’s okay, you went through trauma. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he soothed her.

“I want to though because, before you, I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand love, I thought it was weird and forceful and something dependent on coercion,” her voice was so tiny, she didn’t want anyone else hearing her. “Loving you is light and fluffy and special and safe, I didn’t want you to think just now that I said it this weekend to get it over with or something because I truly do love you.

He pulled her into a kiss, “I love you, more.”

She laughed, “we’ll see about that.”

—

Y/N and Diana were doing the dishes as her mom packed the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Debbie was just about to ask who wanted coffee when Y/N’s phone started to ring.

She sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel before answering the phone. “SSA Y/N Y/L/N.”

“There’s been an explosion at a mall in Los Angeles and reports of 4 more planned, how fast can you and Reid get to LA?” Hotch asked.

“Um, we’re about 45 minutes from the airport.”

“We’re 4 hours out, we want you and Reid there ASAP. Is there any way we could send a helicopter to get you?”

“Yes, there’s a soccer field across the street from my parent's house, Garcia knows the address she can direct them where to go, we’ll be ready.”

“Debrief has already been sent to your phones, I need you and Reid to go to the LA field office and start communication with Garcia on victimology.”

“Got it.” She said as she hung up. “Spence we have to go!”

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“We have an emergency in LA, they need us there immediately. There’s a helicopter coming to get us,” Y/N explained as she walked around the room towards her go-bag.

She unzipped it, unfolding her bullet-proof vest and putting it on. She adjusted her gun and made sure she had everything she needed. Spencer did the same at the table beside her.

“You are a badass,” her dad complimented her, filming her getting her gear on. “This is my daughter! FBI superhero! Kickass tonight kid!” He had an affinity for embarrassing her, but an even bigger obsession with showing her off.

He was like that with all of his children, first with her brother Harrison in the army, then with her other brother Levi and his swat training. Now his daughter was catching serial killers like it was nothing.

“Okay, we gotta go, the helicopter will be landing in that field in 3 minutes. Dad are you okay to take the car back to the dealership if this takes a while? We will be back for our suitcases after the case, I love you guys.” She said. handing her father the car keys and moving to put her shoes on.

“Got everything?” Spencer asked.

“Yep,” she smiled.

They walked out the door and across the street. Most of the neighbourhood watched a helicopter land in the soccer field as the sun was setting. They ducked as they ran getting in the chopper and strapping in.

“Agent Valdez, Nevada PD!” the officer in the pilot seat introduced herself. “We have just over an hour till we land, use the headsets to communicate with me if you need to!”

And they were off. She looked down to see her family waving up at them from their houses as the neighbours she grew up around took photos and videos of them leaving.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.

Y/N took out her phone and read over the debrief, “tonight at The Grove in Los Angeles, a small bomb went off killing 6 people and injuring 31.”

“Where did it go off?” Reid asked.

“Inside a small dress store that has been renting the space for the last 7 years,” Y/N confirmed. “I’m sure Garcia is looking into everyone who was injured or killed as well as the current and former employees.”

“It says here that the person who called 911 before the bomb went off warned of 3 bombs to come. Saying; ‘4 bombs in total the first in clear, the next is where her checks would clear.’” Reid read from the phone.

“So we need to find a connection between the dress store and a bank in the area,” Y/N said. “We need to go over that call more, have Garcia look into every aspect of the sound.”

“Where did Hotch say he wants us?” Reid asked.

“At the LA field office, he wants us working behind the scenes in correspondence with Garcia.”

Spencer sighed, “well, our weekend was fun while it lasted.

9:42pm PST

By the time the rest of the team landed and Hotch and JJ arrived at the field office, another 2 bombs had gone off at a Liberty Bank downtown LA.

“Garcia, do we have any connection from the dress shop to the bank yet?” Hotch asked.

“Nothing Sir, I have dug and dug and there isn’t a single person with a connection to both the bank and the dress shop within the last few months, I'm widening back 2-5 years but still nothing,” Garcia panicked over the phone.

“Is there any possibility our unsub is female? This to me feels like a scorned lover, maybe her husband is paying someone under the table who is cashing checks at that exact ATM that exploded and then went and bought a dress,” Y/N suggests.

“Garcia run with that as far as you can and call us back,” Hotch ordered.

“On it!” She cheered before hanging up.

Spencer looked around at all the info he and Y/N brainstormed while waiting for the team. “a female unsub would make the most sense.”

“Did we get any more clues for where the next bomb will be?” JJ asked.

Agent Cunningham from the LA field office shook his head, “nothing at the scene or over 911, we’re on the lookout for any suspicious calls and tips currently.”

“If you were cheating on your wife, after going to the bank and the dress shop where does she go with you next?” Y/N asked Hotch.

“Uh,” he shook his head, clearly faithful to his wife. “Dinner and a hotel?”

“So those are possibly the next two targets,” Y/N said, “but finding out what restaurant and hotel in the entirety of LA is like finding a needle in a needle stack.”

“I hate to say it,” JJ sighed, “but we might need one more explosion before we get a breakthrough.”

“All we can do is hope for minimal damage,” Y/N shot a soft smile over to her, “till then, what kind of woman in the area could make the type of bombs that are being used?”

“Almost anyone,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “I was just looking at the debris and shrapnel, it’s a fairly simple bomb that anyone with basic knowledge or internet access could make.”

Hotch called Garcia once more. “Can you start a search for women 35-55 who are married, ask the NSA if we can search through any women in the LA area googling how to make bombs in the last month.”

“Of course, I’ve also been looking at the past transactions of the specific ATMs that were targeted, 13 of the people depositing cash and cheques there, recently bought dresses from the store at The Grove.”

“Any of them look like they are partaking in an affair?” Y/N asked.

“2 of them are lesbian women, 3 are drag queens and the other 8 are girls in high school depositing birthday money,” Garcia explained.

“Well thanks for looking, hopefully, the NSA has some hits for us,” Hotch said as he hung up. “I guess we wait.”

11:56pm

“We’ve got reports of an explosion in an all-female dorm at UCLA,” one of the LA agents said as he burst through the door.

“Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi,” Hotch said, “go to the scene and find out everything.”

Y/N called Garcia, “as soon as we know what room the explosion was in I need you to go back 10 years of women who lived in that dorm room and their connections to older men. Sugar daddies, teachers, anyone.”

“The 911 call shortly after the bomb say it was heard on the first floor, possibly room 119 as that's where the blast was heard. Luckily the girl who was supposed to be in that room was with her friend down the hall so we currently have no casualties here,” Garcia explained.

“Thank god,” JJ exclaimed, placing her hand over her eyes.

“In the last 10 years, 6 different women have all had that room,” Garcia said as she narrowed down her search. “Okay, here we go this is the juicy stuff!”

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“From 2000 to 2002 Maggie Burton was working on a science degree at UCLA. She was working part-time, both years, as the main Chemistry professor's teaching assistant, she was depositing money from him bi-weekly to Liberty Bank.”

“Okay, who was the professor?” Spencer asked.

“Michael Thompson, 56, but that would be too simple now wouldn’t it?” Penelope teased. “Thompson is gay and has been in a domestic partnership since 1998, his Partner Adam Pearson, however, is bisexual according to the sugar daddy website he’s on,” she explained further. “Whether Maggie knows it or not, she had been getting paid to be Thompson's TA, as well as his boyfriend sugar baby.”

“So our unsub is Michael Thompson?” Hotch confirmed.

“By the looks of it, yes. Maggie stopped being a TA when she graduated and now she works with a cosmetics developer downtown. Every week she deposits 500 cash to the ATM, which is the exact amount of cash Adam has been withdrawing for the last 7 years,” she kept explaining, they could hear her keyboard clicking as she kept digging. “Look’s like Adam is filing to remove the domestic partnership and he bought a ring last week.”

“There’s the trigger,” Spencer confirmed. “Do we have a home and work address as well as where the next bomb would be?”

“Adam checked into a Hilton hotel downtown, suite 613 which he has been booking once a month for the last 7 years,” Garcia confirmed. “Sending the locations now.”

“I need a bomb squad sent to the Hilton hotel, evacuations should be done floor by floor saving floor 6 for last, I need agents on floor 6 to evacuate all rooms, except for 613, quietly without making a scene.”

“Sir, suit 612 was booked only for tonight by Michael Thompson, using cash,” Garcia cut him off.

“All rooms but 612 and 613 are to be evacuated, I need a direct line on the scene to room 612 when we arrive,” Hotch ordered as they all hurried towards the elevator.

—

On the scene, Reid, Y/L/N and JJ were sent up with the bomb squad to floor 6. Red lights in the stairwell were flashing to alert that there was an evacuation taking place, but the building was silent.

There were 14 rooms on floor 6, 4 of them being rented that night. Rooms 601 and 608 were the only two they had to focus on to evacuate.

JJ quietly knocked on room 601, “Hi sir,” she whispered. “My name is Jennifer, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your necessities and any other guests in the room, an officer will escort you down the stairs. In the parking lot across the street, there are people issuing refunds and information about relocations for the night.”

The man nodded, he quickly grabbed his things and followed an officer down the hall.

Y/N knocked on 608 next, a young woman answered. “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor-“

“I have 2 kids with me,” she whispered.

“Okay, are they awake?” JJ asked.

“My daughter, she’s 2, she’s out cold. My son is watching TV, oh my god my husband isn’t here,” she quietly panicked.

“Ma’am it’s fine, we have officers here to assist you down the stairs and across the street, there are relocation preparations being made. If you don’t mind, I can help you carry your daughter down the stairs?” Spencer said softly.

“Yes, absolutely.” She said, running into the room to gather all her things.

Spencer lifted the little girl up softly, not waking her at all in the process. He held her against his chest softly while the mother grabbed their necessities and her 6-year-old son before followed Spencer down the stairs.

JJ and Y/N stood in the stairwell, Y/N picked up her radio and called down to Hotch. “All civilians on the 6th floor have been evacuated.”

“Any movement in 612?”

“Yes sir,” one of the bomb squad members said. “With our tech, we can see 2 bodies in 613 and 1 in 612, all alive.”

“Any idea how many bombs were talking about?” Hotch asked.

“Not yet, we need a clear look inside the room. Snipers on the building across the street say the blinds are closed,” he explained.

“Hotch, have you gotten in contact with him at all?” JJ asked.

“No, he won't pick up,” hotch confirmed.

“Would you like one of us to knock?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet, I want you both to come down. If we’re knocking on his door we need to have a full plan in place,” Hotch ordered.

“Over,” Y/N said. Following JJ back down the 6 flights of stairs.

Down at the base of operations, Spencer was still holding onto the 2-year-old as the mother called her husband. He shushed her and held her close with a blanket over her back as she slept.

“Hotch,” JJ got his attention. “I noticed each room has vents on the connected walls, is there any way to get into 611 and snake in a camera to see what we’re dealing with?”

“That was my next suggestion,” a SWAT office said as he shook her hand. “We’re prepping the equipment now.”

“Can we also spray a sleeping agent through the vents? If we knock out the unsub we can just drag him out and see what’s going on?” Y/N suggested.

“Yeah that would work,” the SWAT officer said, “we have a sleeping agent in a compressed gas form that we can spray through the vents.”

“Okay, just in 612,” Hotch confirmed. Y/N I want you and Morgan up there to assist in making sure Maggie and Adam are evacuated safely while the bomb squad looks at what we have going on.”

“On it,” she and Morgan said at the same time.

One of the SWAT officers pulled them aside, handing them protective gear for the gas that will erupt into the hallway. She waved to Spencer in the lot as she headed across the street with the SWAT team. They ran up the stairs, it was exhausting but Y/N pushed through, up the six flights. They quietly unlocked room 611 and filled the room with officers.

First, they snaked a small camera through the vent, the image showing on the screen right away, “you seeing this Hotch?” Morgan asked over the radio.

“Crystal.”

“It’s a wall of C4,” one of the Bomb Squad officers quietly confirmed. “Fairly simple to dismantle, it looks like it’s a manual switch. Wait till he crosses the room, and then spray the gas. We need officers to be in the room as it’s sprayed. He needs to hit the floor nowhere close to the detonator.”

Morgan quietly opened the door and assembled the team in the hall, making movements with his hands as he instructed the men. The door kicker was in place, the officers were ready to file in.

The swat agent deployed the gas, they watched on the monitor as the unsub turned to look at the hissing sound, inspecting it before hitting the ground.

“NOW!” Morgan yelled. The door was knocked in and the unsub was in handcuffs.

Y/N ran to 613, knocking on the door as hard as she could. “FBI OPEN UP!” She yelled.

A half-naked man opened the door, “what?” He yelled.

“We need to evacuate the building right now, cover-up and follow me.” She ordered as the two victims covered themselves and followed her down the stairs.

Halfway down, she got a call over the radio. “Bomb has been defused, all clear on floor 6.”

“Bomb?” The man questioned.

“Yes sir,” Y/N confirmed. “your partner, and your science teacher, Michael Thompson, has been bombing places around the city that you two have been to, and was planning to blow you up tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Maggie asked.

“He’s under arrest, you’ll have your chance to ask him questions in court,” Y/N confirmed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

She held the door for them and watched as they were whisked away by EMTs. She waited for another set for the unsub before turning around and running all the way back up the 6 flights to Morgan.

Morgan was standing over the cuffed, unconscious, unsub in the hallway. “Good job pretty girl!” Morgan high-fived her.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “let's get this bastard down into the ambulance. The elevators should go back up in a minute.”

“What? No more stairs?” Morgan teased.

“I might not be able to feel my legs tomorrow, I’ve been up and down those too many times tonight!” She smacked him.

“Sure that’s why,” he laughed as they waited for the elevator.

—

Spencer and Y/N packed up that night and took a short trip back to Los Vegas. By the time they arrived back on her parent's doorstep it was 5:32 am. 12 hours since they were last there.

She sighed at the front door and called her parent's home phone. “Hello?” Her father's sleep-ridden voice answered.

“Hey dad, it’s Y/N can you come open the front door for me? Please.” She asked nicely.

“Yep.” He hung up.

She watched the hall light come on from the front door. Waiting for him to slowly make his way down the stairs to the front hallway. He unlocked the door and welcomed them in.

“Your mom cleaned off your bed in case this happened,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“5:30, go back up to bed, we’ll lock back up, thank you,” she hugged him and sent him on his way.

She sighed and sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She tugged her boots off and left them in the hallway. Spencer picked them up and moved them to be in order with the rest of the shoes. He locked her parent's front door and turned off the entryway light.

“You need water or anything before bed?” Y/N asked.

“No, come on,” he took her hand and walked with up the stairs to her bedroom.

She closed the door behind him, peeling out of her clothes and climbing into bed first. She got under the covers and moved the pillows around to make sure they were how she liked them.

Spencer crawled in beside her, wearing just his socks and underwear. He laid flat on his back while she cuddled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath as he settled into relaxation finally.

“I love you,” she reminded him.

“I love you, more.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #hypothetically

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kiame-sama · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do a Yandere Silva where the reader is getting hit on by a butler with a death wish and Silva freaks and it ends with rough sex where reader won’t be able to walk👀🍵

Warnings; lemon, rough behavior, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, mentioned non-con, reader gets threatened, reader has female parts, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), 69, peak into the yandere mind of an assassin,

~~~~~~~~

You sat quietly in your room, relaxing back on the large couch and idly listening to whatever was currently on the TV. It had been a fairly quiet day, but most days were quiet (other than when Silva decides he needs attention). You were rather bored, slightly considered taking a nap or even calling for Silva just for some kind of entertainment.

Just as you were in the middle of deciding what to do, the door slowly began to open. This immediately put you on guard since the only ones who would enter your room tended to fling it open despite how unbelievably heavy the door actually was. You were quick to retrieve your panic button, a distress alert Silva had given you just in precaution for someone getting to your room. It only happened once that some fool decided to kidnap you without anyone knowing until you were already gone, but he made certain it would never happen again.

You fiddled with the small device nervously, watching the door with great anticipation for whoever it was on the other side. You were surprised to see a man you had never met before. He wore a suit identical to that of the butlers that worked in the manor, but all of the butlers should know better than to even come within twenty feet of your room.

"So you're the famous Zoldyck treasure. I can certainly see why."

He looked you up and down, making you feel far more exposed than you actually were. The man was blond and had bright blue eyes that seemed to glimmer in the light of your cell. He was fairly tall, though not as tall as Silva, and he had sun-kissed tan skin. The way he looked at you like a piece of meat made your skin start to crawl, so you subtly pressed the button and hoped that this man wouldn't have the time to do anything to you.

"You're quite the big mystery. Most here don't know what's in this room, and It's even one of the most enforced rules; don't go near this room. I can see why you're considered a treasure, a lovely thing like you would attract a lot of attention. But, I don't see why you're kept away from everyone like this. Can you tell me?"

"..."

"It's okay, I don't bite, unless you want me to. You must be such a fragile little thing, being locked up like this for your safety."

"I'm not locked up for my own benefit."

"Oh?"

"I'm here because my husband doesn't like sharing."

This, instead of making the man back off like you thought it would, the man only seemed to become more interested in you due to your words. He began a slow approach towards you, making you retreat until your back was pressed against the wall and he was mere inches away from you. You tried to turn your head away from him, keeping as much distance as possible between the two of you, knowing just how Silva will react.

"He doesn't have to know... Isn't it exciting, though? Sneaking around like this."

"No."

"Oh come on, live a little, sweetheart."

"Leave me alone."

"Nah, I don't think I will. In fact, no one even knows I'm here, so no one will come check on you. I could do so many things to your tight little body with the time I have... And no one would even hear you cry for help."

"Stop- Stop it."

"So scared. Good. I like 'em scared. You're gonna be so much f-"

He was suddenly cut off by the door slamming open with enough force to make the walls shake, him turning on his heel to confront whoever just arrived. You were quick to slide past the stunned man as he turned away from you, hurriedly making it to Silva's side and hiding behind him. The man had a look of pure terror on his face, clearly not expecting the terrifying assassin to appear.

You gripped tightly to the back of Silva's shirt, pressing your forehead against his broad back as you hid from the intruder that had threatened you so gleefully. The small glimpse you got of Silva's expression was enough to tell you everything you needed to know. He wasn't just mad, he was furious. Luckily, none of that fury was directed towards you.

Not only were his burning blue eyes filled with pure hate, they seemed to glow in the light of the room with a predatorial glint. He never really seemed to smile anyway, but his expression wasn't his usual scowl, it was akin to the stone-cold expression of a wild animal ready to kill. There was a palpable hate in the air that made it quite clear Silva had no intention to let the man live.

"Did he do anything to you?"

"He threatened me."

A low hum that sounded more like a growl rumbled from his chest, clearly displeased. The man had yet to move from his original spot, frozen in terror at the intimidating visage of your furious husband. Had the situation been different, and had the man not threatened you, you would have felt pity for him, but you felt no pity now.

"Explain."

"Wha-What?"

"Explain just what you are doing in my wife's room."

The man had already been terror stricken, but now all of the color disappeared from his face as he realized just how stupid his decision had been. He had assumed you were just another family member, maybe a sister or daughter. He only began to now realize just how fucked he was. Even though he was a relatively new butler, he knew of Silva's infamous temper and he also knew to never talk about Silva's wife, lest he wish for the most painful death possible.

He had seen Kikyo around, and since Kalluto was always trailing behind, he had assumed that she was Silva's wife and did his damndest to stay away from her and stay out of her path. He had heard stories about what would happen to anyone who took any level of interest in Silva's wife, but he had just figured it was meant as a basic warning about the woman herself. Yet here he was, staring at the most terrifying man he had ever encountered after just having threatened and attempted to force himself onto the very woman he was warned to never speak of.

"Well?"

"I- I didn't- I hadn't- but-"

"You've already exceeded my patience, filth."

"I'm- I'm sorry! I didn't know who she was! I wouldn't have said those things to her if-"

"Said what 'things'?"

"..."

You pulled away to look up at your towering husband, seeing him glance over his shoulder at you, his eyes far more gentle and loving. The glance was a clear prompt to speak, and you'd rather not push Silva's buttons at that moment, given his unyielding rage about to overflow.

"He threatened to rape me and said no one would hear me scream."

There was a sudden change in the entire room the moment you finished your sentence. It was a crushingly heavy pressure that seeped into every corner like a rolling miasma, consuming everything. The pressure quickly lifted from you, allowing you to breathe though it was clear the intruder did not receive the same kindness as he choked and dropped to his knees.

If you thought Silva was mad before, he was as tame as a kitten in comparison to the rage that now consumed him. You were well aware of Silva's knowledge in ways to kill a man, but it seemed more like he was interested in a slow drawn out slaughter. He never once looked away from the terrified man, even as he spoke in a gentle tone to you.

"(Y/n), go wait in our room. Don't come out until I tell you to."

"Alright..."

Quickly scrambling to the room you two shared, you caught a glimpse at Silva's expression and felt your heart drop into your stomach. Even though you knew he was not angry with you at all, that look alone sent fear running down your spine and into your very being. You closed the door and sat on your bed, hearing a sudden shrill voice begin screaming.

It wasn't hard for you to guess the kind of mood Silva would be in once he was done dealing with the man. There was no doubt in your mind he was going to be rough as well, knowing how he got when jealous. You also knew he would be jealous as all hell due to the man being in your room. It may not have been your fault and the man may be dead, but with Silva, jealousy didn't fade away.

There were few things you could do at that point to soften Silva's mood, and honestly him being rough wasn't that bad (so long as he doesn't break your bones). Given how terrifying just a glance at him was, you figured you'd do something that should brighten his mood and help soothe his jealousy a bit. You dug through your clothes picking out your white and blue lingerie- Silva's favorite for obvious reasons- and waited on the bed.

The screams had yet to stop, though they certainly took on a more gurgling tone the longer it went. You shivered slightly, wondering just what Silva was doing to the man, since he was an expert at torturing people. Though he has hurt you in the past- most being accidental- you know just how strong he is and just how deeply his few emotions impact him. Looking from the outside, he feels nothing, but with you he is extremely expressive in everything he does.

You lay back on the bed, thinking about how much you truly impacted him and how much your wellness meant to him. Hell, the man would move heaven itself if you wanted him to. He was the dominant partner, but he was also a slave to your every emotion.

While you let yourself get lost in thought, you slowly slipped off to sleep with Silva's pillow cuddled in your arms.

Movement on the bed drew you out of your peaceful slumber, letting out an upset whine at being woken. You were slightly disoriented from your sudden awakening and blearily blinked the sleep out of your eyes. As your brain began to fully wake as well, you realized that Silva was right above you, his large hands on either side of your head.

There was a faint feeling of surprise as you noticed not a speck of blood on the giant man. You figured he would have been soaked in the blood of that idiot butler, but not a single fleck of red marred his flawless skin.

"Trying to cheer me up?"

There was the slightest of smiles pulling at his lips as his eyes slowly dragged over your barely covered figure, letting out a low hum of pleasure and licking his lips slowly. He seemed almost too calm at that moment, but you knew the beast that dwells within would easily come forth once he began.

"It certainly does help..."

"I thought it would be nice to surprise you... but I guess I fell asleep before you came back."

"You are a wonderful creature, (y/n), did you know that?"

"Well, there has to be some reason you keep me around."

"Sassy thing."

His tone was teasing, but you knew he wouldn't be teasing you for very long, not with the way his sharp blue eyes roamed your body. He sat up, now letting his hands roam your soft body and squeezing every few seconds. No matter what mark may be on you- be it a scar, a birthmark, a mole, didn't matter- he adored you and held such reverence for you. Even when you gain or lose weight, you are a Goddess in his eyes, and he made sure to treat his Goddess well.

"Mmm, you do know how to rile me up."

"Lots of practice."

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes narrow in bliss from your gentle touch. When you suddenly tightened your grip and tugged on his long hair, that calm expression changed in an instant. He was now less of a man than he was a beast, moving you suddenly so your legs rest on his shoulders, your back against the pillows.

He didn't say a single word as he gripped the lacy panties you wore between his teeth, pulling back in one smooth motion and ripping the delicate fabric with ease. You were about to whine at the destruction of his favorite set but you didn't even manage to get a single word out before he buried his head between your thighs, tongue easily sliding through your soft folds. He didn't bother with being slow in working you up, he just slid his tongue as deeply into you as he could to slurp up your juices.

The noises coming from him were obscene as he sucked on your soft pussy, low moans vibrating against you as he gripped your legs tighter, pulling you closer to his mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly and tilting your head back with breathy moans. He held your hips still, making it so you were unable to do anything other than writhe in the pleasure he gave you.

It was clear that him holding you still was more of a dominance thing to reassure himself and soothe his burning jealousy more than it was to show his dominance over you. He was using your presence and your sweet moans as his own validation of being your one and only. Reminding himself- and in some ways, you- that you were still his and he had no intention of sharing you in any way.

You truly have only had honest social interaction with three people on a consistent basis and your five children on the odd occasion for more than twenty years. If that didn't give you a good visualization of how deep his jealousy runs, then it would be the contempt he has for his own children. As far as he was concerned, you only truly needed him in your life and no one else would have the chance or ability to get between the two of you.

He was much like a religious zealot with how fiercely he coveted you and everything about you. His tongue was as deep in you as possible while his large thumb rubbed your clit, blue eyes closed in bliss as if he truly received deep pleasure from taking care of you and pleasuring you like a wild animal did its mate. You were his everything, and he wanted your everything desperately enough he had you kidnapped only days after meeting you, already in deep obsession and fanatical adoration for you.

Continuing with endless stamina, he brought you up to mindless pleasure and kept you there, every whining cry you made only served to fuel his desire and increase blood-flow to his achingly hard cock. In typical Silva fashion, he completely ignored his own needs to not only ensure your pleasure, but to test himself to see how long he could listen to you moan before snapping and giving in to the starving beast within him. He was quite the dominant masochist when it came down to it, always adoring every scratch and mark you make on his fair skin but also making sure he was the one on top and in control.

With a loud sucking sound, he pulled away from your soaked pussy, licking his lips with hazy bliss filled eyes never leaving your shaking form. He was completely lost in his desire to possess all of you, and he gently trailed his warm hands up your soft front until he lightly gripped your chin, holding your mouth open. You were faintly worried about what he planned on doing while in such a blissed out state, yelping when he moved you down the bed with both hands before moving so his muscular legs were on either side of your head.

He slid his large cock slowly into your mouth, your jaw stretching a bit further to accommodate the rock-hard length. A deep moan rose up from his chest as he thrusted his hips a few times before returning to digging his tongue into your slick heat. He did the majority of the work to pleasure you both, ensuring to keep himself from making you deep throat him just yet. You reached up to rest your hands on his hips for your own sake should he unintentionally begin to choke you, but to Silva the contact of your gentle hands on his pale skin was overwhelmingly intense.

He was extremely touch starved when it came to you due to his distant and cold upbringing despite how much physical contact he actually had with you on a regular basis. Just another reason for him to be obsessed with the touch of your skin and the feel of your body against his. Each small brush of your hand anywhere on his body sent intense sensations running through his very being. To feel not a hint of affection during the critical developmental beginning years of his life left him distant and made him believe all outside touch would bring only pain.

Of course, when he met you, his entire world changed drastically. Your touch was gentle and brought no pain with it, only the sweet sensation of honest care and empathy. He had to have you, and only you. Only your touch brought him such calming pleasure and consuming affection. Even as he bucked his hips into your warm mouth, he was past cloud 9 in absolute bliss, sinking his tongue into your extremely wet pussy and almost desperately trying to bring you the same level of pleasure that he felt even when simply in your presence.

That's what he always tried to do.

He felt so much from and for you that he couldn't help but attempt to reciprocate that pleasure any chance he got. His addiction to your touch was likely why you two were still so sexually active even after decades together, that and Silva used that intimate connection to soothe his own mind consuming anxiety. It was why he became so irritable whenever he is away from your side for more than 24 hours. His mind drowns him in anxiety with every outcome of you being attacked while he is away.

It would destroy him to know something hurt you or you were unwell in some way while he was gone. He would feel like he failed you as your husband and that he failed you as your protector. He refused to fail. The cost would be too great.

You, on the other hand, happened to be lost in the feelings of pleasure running through your veins, to the point you didn't honestly notice much other than the warm cock in your mouth and the hot tongue on your pussy. Every moan you made only made that large length twitch and throb, feeling the slide of your tongue against his flesh as you let your fingers slide over his hips. It was clear he enjoyed it as he let out deep moans and growls of pleasure, holding himself back as long as possible.

Just when you felt the pulse of his heartbeat flutter, he pulled away from you, leaving you confused and slightly dazed. He was watching you try to collect your thoughts, proud he made you so delirious with pleasure that you needed time to return to awareness. His movements were slow and methodical as he positioned himself between your legs, raising your hips up so he could slide through your soft folds.

"Look at me, (y/n)."

His deep voice drew your scattered attention, staring up into his intense blue eyes in an almost questioning way. There was a moment of silence as he stared at you in adoration, not looking away from you as he slowly slid his firm length into you, watching the way you gasped and writhed on the bed. He gave you only a moment to adjust to his size once more before he began to thrust into your welcoming body, drowning in the tight embrace of your warm insides.

You moved up and down on the bed with each rough thrust, clawing at the sheets beneath you. Silva pound into you with such intensity you could barely draw in a breath before it was being forced back out with another rough thrust. He leaned over your writhing and mewling form to start pressing open mouthed kissed against your neck, biting down a few times to hear you yelp and whine. You wrapped your arms around him and let your nails bite down on his fair skin, shivering from his rumbling moan directly against you ear.

As you felt your orgasm creeping up with alarming speed, you reached up to his hair and gripped on the long locks, tugging hard enough to remove his lips from your neck. You had to stop tugging on his hair and just cling to him as his thrusts became rougher, pressing one of his hands against your soft stomach and feeling the way he moved inside of you. The increased sensation of his large cock rubbing against your tight walls practically made you scream in delight, your pleasure overwhelming and consuming you as your orgasm flooded your body.

"So tight..! You are mine. You will always be mine. I'll never let you go. I'll never let you forget."

You barely registered his crooning words due to your overstimulated nerves sizzling in your brain. He adored the hazy look in your eyes as you were consumed by the pleasure he provided you. That sweet expression on your lovely face was enough to push him over the edge, his hot cum painting your soft insides with every intense pulse.

When he finally pulled out of you, you were still trying to catch your breath and clung to his body with all of the remaining energy you had. The low humming chuckle that came from him was a soft and soothing rumble that was quite like the purr of some feral beast. You curled close to his warm body, snuggling down into his grasp as he pulled the blanket over the both of you, kissing your forehead gently.

"Mine."

#Yandere silva #Yandere silva x reader #Yandere x reader #Silva Zoldyck #hxh silva #daddy silva

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Down (Pt.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down on the side of the highway, you’re picked up by a kind couple who apparently have a thing for picking up hitchhikers, judging by the boy in the back seat. What started as a ride turns into a horror story.

Warnings: NONCON ELEMENTS (it’s Carl and Sandy and if you are reading this, you’re damn well aware of what they do - no full on rape though! Just noncon touching), murder/ serial killers, being held at gun point, description of blood and violence, typical Carl and Sandy stuff

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: There are parts of this that are from the movie directly and I do not claim to own those parts. All other original parts are mine though!

Part 2 out now!

____________________________________

It was no secret that Sandy was unhappy with her life with Carl anymore. She wasn't quiet about it- not even to him. Any logical person would think that she'd be scared to tell her serial killer partner that she was tired of killing people but she wasn't sure if she cared about the outcome anymore. She already felt dead inside.

"Carl, I'm done."

"C'mon, Sandy. It's not that bad." Carl tried to convince his partner, looking over at her from behind the wheel.

Sandy scoffed sadly, "I don't like when they cry."

"But they take the best pictures," Carl responded insensitively. They drove on in silence for a while down the highway, ever consciously looking for their next victim. "You know what? How about we try something new, huh? We can try to make this next one a little more interesting."

Sandy rolled her eyes and stared out at the landscape as it blurred past on their trek along the highway. That wasn’t what she meant and Carl knew it. She didn’t want to make things more interesting. She wanted out. She knew it was no use arguing, though. Carl always got his way.

You stood at the edge of the road, thumb extended as the occasional car passed by, to no avail. Your car sat dead in the turn out behind you. Your duffel bag was laid down on the ground by your feet, your dark blue floral skirt blowing against the material when the breeze blew. Of all the roads to break down on, it just had to be the one in the middle of nowhere Ohio - West Virginia border where almost no cars drove past. It was beginning to get dark and your nerves were starting to fray at the thought of being stuck in the woods alone at night.

Finally, a car drove up to you and you waved your hands to get their attention, put on your nicest smile, and stuck your thumb out. The vehicle slowed to a halt beside you and you saw three people in there, a woman driving, a man rolling his window down to talk to you, and a young man in the backseat. "What's a sweet girl like you doing out here stuck on the side of the road?" The man questioned with a smile.

"My car broke down and I just need to get into town to call a mechanic." You gestured back to your old yellow Ford that had started acting up a little ways back. When you pulled over to take a look at it, it just wouldn't start up again.

He looked over at the pretty blonde lady driving, giving her a look you couldn't see but she returned one that you couldn't quite read. The man turned back to you with a smile, “Well we’re dropping this fella off in Meade but I’m sure we could drop you in the next closest town. Shouldn’t be too far if you’d like a ride.”

A smile spread across your face, “Thank you so much.” You picked up your duffel bag and hustled over to the side of the car that was bordering the road, sliding into the seat when you threw the door open.

“What a good day for makin’ new friends, huh, honey?” The man said chipperly before turning around to look at the two of you in the back seat. “What were your names?”

“Y/N.” You answered warmly, glancing over at the boy beside you who sat stiffly, his jaw clenched tightly. You’d assumed he was with the couple but it seemed you may have been wrong.

He swallowed after a brief pause, his eyes widening in fear for a moment, “Arvin, sir.”

“Well, Arvin and Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you two. I’m Carl and this is my wife Sandy.” He patted Sandy on the shoulder and she gave him a small forced smile. Trouble in paradise, you thought. “Where you from Y/N?”

Your hands laid prim and proper in your lap, holding your skirt down from the breeze from Carl’s rolled down window, “Just a small town not too far from here actually. Barren Springs? Not many people have heard of it.”

“Can’t say I have,” Carl shook his head.

Arvin chimed in for the first time since you’d gotten in the car, “I've been through there for work before.”

“Yeah? You live nearby?” You asked, looking over at him. A blush heated your cheeks at the site of the handsome young man. His curly brown locks were messily pressed down against his head from the baseball cap that he had curled up in his lap.

Arvin just nodded a little when he made eye contact, “Coal Creek.” He swallowed hard, before his eyes darted away from yours and bounced off every moving object he could see.

“Oh, nice! I’ve only ever driven through it on the way to my grandparent’s house but it’s a cute little town.” You chipped, waiting for a response from Arvin but he only gave you a curt nod and fidgeted his hands along his legs. A thick silence settled over the car for a moment and you cast your gaze away from the attractive boy down to the mechanism that allowed the driver’s seat to adjust on the ground of the car, suddenly feeling like you overstepped with Arvin with your seemingly innocent comment.

“Looks like you’re set for a trip. You leaving or coming home?” Sandy asked, looking at you through the rear view mirror.

“Comin’ home,” You responded, replacing that polite smile and slightly higher voice you did when speaking to strangers, “A friend of mine from high school moved to Blacksburg with her sweetheart. I just went out there for their wedding.” You smiled at the memory of their ceremony. It was one of those marriages that you just knew was meant to be.

“Awe, I just love weddings.” She said dreamily, gazing nostalgically out across the road.

You smiled and made a small noise of agreement. At the thought of weddings, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the idea of marrying the man sitting beside you. It was silly, you knew, fantasizing about marrying a complete and total stranger. Barren Springs didn’t have many good suitors to pick from and you had yet to make it out on your own into the world. It had been a long time since you’d been physically attracted to anyone as strongly as you were attracted to Arvin. Besides, you weren’t fantasizing about marrying him, per se, but more so just having a wedding with him. The thought of seeing him so handsome and dressed up and the way his eyes would sparkle with adoration when he saw you walk down the aisle in your dress. It was ridiculous! You could have laughed at yourself. You just wanted to think that maybe there was some possibility that he thought you were half as beautiful as you thought he was.

After some time driving in silence, with you sneaking many glances at the man sitting beside you, Carl spoke up, “Oh shit, my old billy don’t work like it used to. I’m gonna have to pull over and take a leak.” He trailed off, looking over at Sandy with a smile. She gave him a sharp look but slowed down. You wondered just how often of an inconvenience this must have been if she seemed so annoyed by the request. “Is that alright by you two?” He asked a little louder, directing the question at you and Arvin.

You and Arvin both got strange looks on your face, finding it strange that he felt the need to ask if he could use the restroom. “Sure,” Arvin muttered.

“Yeah, of course.” You added, eyes flicking between the man and woman up front.

“There should be a road up here on the right,” Carl directed Sandy, “Little further. Little further. Slow down. Right here.” The car slowed and rolled to a stop, rocks crunching beneath the tires. “This is good.”

You craned your head to watch the main road disappear a few dozen feet behind you and your nerves perked up. Arvin must have noticed the way you sucked a deep breath in, louder than usual, because he glanced over at you with a look in his eyes that told you that your sudden uneasiness was not unfounded. You watched as his eyes shot back and forth between the couple and then around at your surroundings.

You began to pick at the hem of your dress. Hitchhiking was something you tried to avoid at all costs and managed to do so successfully until this very day because the idea of getting in a car with a stranger made you nervous. You knew that in all likeliness, Carl probably was just going to use the restroom and then return and you’d be on your merry way. The little indecipherable looks he and Sandy kept shooting each other didn’t escape your notice though.

“I won’t be long.” Carl reassured, opening the door and stepping out. As he did, his jacket lifted and you saw the pistol tucked in the waistband of his pants clear as day and your eyes widened in silent panic.

A lot of people own guns out here, you tried to rationalize but it still didn’t sit right with you. None of this did. A rock the size of Texas sat heavy in your gut and you had an extreme urge to get as far from here as possible without raising suspicions. For one, it would be extremely awkward if you were wrong and you were freaking out over nothing. On the other hand, if they were planning to kill you, it could speed up the process before you could think up a way out of it.

You glanced over at Arvin and it was clear that he had noticed the gun as well because his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes followed Carl like a hawk watching a rabbit. Your hand slid across the seat and you nudged his leg, nodding ever so slightly towards Carl with wide implying eyes. Arvin breathed deeply and nodded, having seen exactly what you had seen. It was validating to know that Arvin didn’t feel right either but it was also even more unnerving because it meant the likelihood of danger was more likely.

Arvin rolled the window down to watch Carl more clearly and Sandy shifting up front drew your attention. You looked up to see her absentmindedly trying to light a match for the cigarette that hung between her lips. Finally, she got it lit and brought the flame to the tip of her cigarette. You watched her do this with intent, so much so that you jumped when Carl leaned through Arvin’s window and loudly announced, “Damn. That’s gonna be one fine sunset. You have to be patient with me while I get a few shots off. Hon, give me the key.”

He must have noticed the uncomfortable looks on yours and Arvin’s faces because he reassured, “Don’t you worry none. We’ve got some hooch in the back and… well, you got two pretty ladies with ya.” Carl raised his eyebrows at you and his partner before looking back at Arvin with a wink, “And Sandy’s good company.”

You fidgeted uncomfortably at the way Carl added that last part, not liking the way his tone implied certain things. Sandy turned around to shoot the pair of you a smile, one that both of you returned with a hard swallow in an attempt to not show that you were highly suspicious of whatever the hell this was. Your gaze went back to Carl, where the keys made a bulge in this back pocket and your heart fell at the sight. Those keys were your only chance of getting out of here.

The back of the car opened and you turned around to watch Carl retrieve a camera and a blanket, the gun still firmly in his waistband, before walking up to the side of the car and opening the door. Arvin flinched and looked over at Carl who motioned outside, “How ‘bout we all share a drink over this beautiful sunset. What y’all think?”

Your voice came out shaky, “Thank you but I don’t drink. It might be best if we get headin’ out sooner than later though. My ma’s expecting me home soon and I don’t wanna worry her.” Whether or not your words were lies was a moot point. Getting out of the car just felt like a bad move.

Carl shrugged, “Well, then, you can just watch the rest of us share a drink then. And don’t you worry. We’ll be on the road soon enough- just as soon as the sun sets. Your mama shouldn’t be too worried. Now why don’t you two come join us.” This time, it didn’t sound like much of a question.

Sandy had thrown her door open and stepped out onto the earth outside, slamming the door shut. You were surprised when she opened up your door and leaned against it, “C’mon, hon. You don’t have to drink any. Wouldn’t wanna miss such a pretty sunset, though, would you?”

With a partner on either side of you, you and Arvin looked at each other, knowing neither of you had a choice but to get out of the car. Reluctantly, you stepped out and walked around the back of the car towards the clearing that Carl was now leading Arvin too as well. He laid out the blanket on the ground and gestured for you and Arvin to sit down. Sandy followed shortly after with a mason jar full of a light peach liquid. She unscrewed the cap and took a swig straight from the jar, “I made it myself out o’ some strawberries I grew back home.”

“The best stuff in Ohio. My girl’s got a real gift.” Carl winked at his wife, who handed him the jar. He too took a sip before passing it to Arvin. Arvin just shook his head before murmuring a polite decline. Carl tsked, “C’mon boy. Don’t wanna hurt my wife’s feelings.” Arvin’s jaw tensed before he slowly took the strawberry hooch from your host and tilted it till the liquid touched his lips, though you couldn’t quite tell if he actually let any of the liquid enter his mouth or not.

He handed the jar back to Carl, not offering you any and you wondered if he was trying to respect your comment about not indulging in alcohol or if he was trying to keep you safe. Regardless, you were grateful. Carl raised the jar towards you, offering it silently, but you put your hand up, “Thank you but I’ll have to pass. I’m sure it’s delicious though.”

“Alright, suit yourself.” He said with a shrug, taking a sip himself before screwing the lid back on and setting it on the blanket.

Sandy came to sit just beside you and Arvin on the blanket, looking up at her husband who was still standing. “Wouldn’t they make a cute couple, Carl?” She pondered out loud and you couldn’t help the blush in your cheeks at the thought. Arvin shifted beside you, most likely feeling just as weird about the comment as you did.

“Now, Sandy, no need to make the poor kids uncomfortable,” He chided lightly, turning around, “But, y’know, this is a real nice picture. Do y’all mind if I take a few shots for posterity’s sake? I mean, seein’ as we probably won’t see each other again after today.”

Before you could answer, Sandy was already scooting in close to Arvin and forcefully initiating a pose, “Alright, now you,” Carl pointed at you, “Scootch in just a little closer.” Your arms shook as they lifted your body enough to move a few inches closer to Arvin. “Perfect. Now everyone smile.” You tried your hardest to force a smile but you couldn’t get one out that was worth any photo.

Carl stood up, as if he was in thought, “I’m a photographer and I would love to get some posed shots if y’all wouldn’t mind. Now, Sandy, why don’t you step back for just a moment while we get these two together. Good. Now, Arvin, you put your arm around her- good! Just like that.”

Arvin awkwardly placed his arm on the ground behind your back, just close enough to look like the two of you were leaning into each other. Carl pulled away from the camera with a smile, “Sandy is right. You two would make a cute couple. Now, Sandy, why you don’t hop back in there. Perfect.”

Carl paused for a moment to ponder his next pose, “Now, Arvin, why don’t you lean back and touch my wife. Y/N, I want you to kiss him while he does it.”

The instructions slipped from his lips with such little reservation that you were convinced you misheard him for a moment. The man had been fairly polite thus far, if not a bit odd with his quips and pryingly friendly remarks, so the bluntness with which he just told you and Arvin to perform semi-sexual acts on each other and his wife took you off guard. “Excuse me?” You shrank back, ripping your body away from Arvin and Sandy with a velocity that almost jolted you.

When you did, your hand grazed a large patch of skin that had previously been covered with her fuzzy cheetah print coat. You whipped around to see her sitting behind you in nothing but her underwear and you quickly realized that you had grazed just beneath her bare breast. “What the fuck!” You jumped, moving away from the nearly nude woman.

Arvin jumped when her hand rested on his shoulder and moved away as well, looking between the man and woman who clearly saw nothing wrong with what they were doing. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but we’re leaving.” Arvin pressed with a firm voice, standing up and offering his hand to you, pulling you up to almost be tucked into his side, his hand staying on your arm protectively.

Carl looked at him like he was some naive boy. “Boy, I’m giving you the opportunity to fuck my wife and that beautiful girl over there while I take pictures. You’re a damned fool if you turn this down.”

“You guys are sick. I will not be having sex with anyone here today!” You exclaimed indignantly at Carl’s implication that you were going to be just fine with this.

The older man looked over to you and waved his hand with a cocky knowing smirk. “I’ve seen you lookin’ at ‘im the whole drive. You’re tellin’ me you don’t want to make love to this boy right here? And what about my wife? You ever been with a woman?” Carl asked, eyes flicking back to Sandy, who wiggled her breasts and gave you a comforting look that told you she would help you through whatever experience you may have lacked.

You found yourself stepping backwards, away from Arvin even. Your head shook, a boiling mixture of terror, rage, and embarrassment burning inside you, “I-I-I already told you. I ain’t doing no-”

Words failed when Carl reached behind him and pulled out the gun you’d noticed earlier, pointing it right at your chest, “Now look, I hate pointin’ a gun at a pretty young thing like yourself but I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t start doin’ what I say. You and my wife are gonna give this boy the best time of his life and I’m gonna take pictures while you do it. That’s it. You understand?”

The world around you seemed to freeze while you stared down the barrel of his pistol. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t talk. Sandy moved closer to you, her lips coming to your neck in a gentle kiss that made your skin crawl. A single tear rolled down your cheek while you stared at the gun that was still pointed at you, Sandy’s hand moving to brush your hair off your neck so she had more access. There was nothing you could do. If you made any move to shove her off, he’d shoot you. If you made a move to run, he’d shoot you. If you tried to knock the gun out of his hand, he’d shoot you. All you could do for the time being was let Sandy do what she would until you could find the right moment to disarm Carl and get the hell out of here.

She looked up at Arvin with sultry eyes over your shoulder, “C’mon, Arvin. You ever thought about being with two women at once before?”

Arvin swallowed hard as he watched how you sat with tears welling in your eyes, trying your hardest not to break in this impossible situation. He stood in seething anger and fear, his heart breaking a little when your hands snapped up to grab her wrists as her hands crept around your front and unpopped the top two buttons of your blouse.

There was a click from Carl cocking the pistol and he took a step closer to you, “I told you I would shoot you if you don’t start playin’ along. This is your last warning. You’re testing my patience, girl.” Your legs were nearly giving out on you when Sandy popped open another two buttons, your bra clearly exposed for everyone to see. Your shirt was unbuttoned as far as it could go before disappearing into the waistband of your skirt where it was tucked in.

Arvin looked away from your exposed upper body, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable and violated than you already were. Suddenly, there was a small flash and the click of a camera and Arvin snapped his focus over to Carl to see him snapping pictures of you, half nude and trying not to fall apart. A coil of pure hatred had been building in Arvin since the first direction of sexual acts but now he was on the verge of tackling and killing Carl right now with his bare hands.

When he looked at you, eyes clenched shut now and silent tears pouring out the corners, he could see Lenora. Both of you were just fearful girls being taken advantage of by someone with too much power. He couldn’t save his sister but maybe he could save you. Arvin could feel his father’s Luger in his pocket but he wasn’t sure if he could draw it and shoot Carl before he could pull the trigger on you. His father’s words came back to him. Wait for the right moment.

Carl whipped his head over to look at Arvin and snapped at him, “I ain’t askin’ again, son. Get in there and start touchin’ those girls!” Carl took the gun off you for just a moment to point it at Arvin and encourage him to approach you and Sandy.

Now, it wasn’t that Arvin had no regard for his own life. The last thing he wanted to do was die, especially after how hard he’d had to fight his whole life, but he was more willing to risk getting himself shot than you. His hand had been gripped around his pistol in the pocket of his denim jacket, just waiting for the right moment to get the two of you away safely. In a second, he cocked the gun and drew it quickly, firing sloppily in Carl’s direction.

Two gunshots rang out.

You screamed, thinking that Carl had just murdered Arvin before your eyes and that you were next. Your eyes were clenched shut until you noticed Carl seethe in anger and pain, “Fuck! Fuck you boy!” And then multiple more gunshots.

This time, there were no more groans of pain, only the heavy thud of Carl’s body on the ground. His gun fell to the ground when his hand loosened and you dove for it, snapping out of Sandy’s grip. You landed hard, your bare chest and abdomen scraping painfully against the sticks and rocks when your body slid against the rough ground. You grabbed the gun and turned to point it at Sandy, who had also procured a gun from God knows where and had it aimed right at you. You didn’t hesitate.

Again, there were two bangs.

You fell back after you fired off your shot and in your panicked state, you couldn’t tell if you’d been hit, your arms had given up supporting your weight on the ground, or if the recoil from the gun was that intense.

There was the sound of another body hitting the ground.

Arving rushed to your side, falling to his knees and inspecting you for immediate signs of physical distress. “Are you okay? Were you shot?”

Your hands ran all over your body, trying to feel for any signs of being shot. You couldn’t feel any part of your body right now, the adrenaline distorting your perception of pain. Even the large bloody scratches on your chest, breasts, stomach, arms, and knees weren’t causing any discomfort at the moment. You shook your head, “I- I don’t think so. Were you?”

He shook his head, helping lift you to sitting, “No-no, I’m alright. We need to get out of here though.”

Your knees were shaky as you tried to stand up but they almost gave out on you when you saw the dead bodies on the forest floor. Carl had been shot three times, twice in the chest and once in the arm. Sandy was already pale with a bloody entrance wound in her throat.

“Oh my God… we killed them.” You were nearly hyperventilating, stumbling backwards. Arvin walked with you, holding you up until you stopped moving.

“They were gonna kill us. We had no choice.” He held you tightly by the shoulders, looking straight into your teary and panicked eyes.

“The police ain't gonna believe that.” Your entire life just crumbled to pieces before your eyes, all because you hitched a ride with some strangers.

Arvin shook his head, “That’s why we gotta get outta here. Leave ‘em. Don’t tell anybody about what happened.”

His words sunk in and you nodded in agreement. The honest part of you wanted to tell the police. Maybe they could help you but you knew that there was an equal chance they’d lock you up for murder as well. You couldn’t risk it. Running was the only option.

Carl’s gun was still in your hand and once you realized it, you wiped it down on your skirt before placing it back in Carl’s hand. “What’re you doin’?” Arvin asked, watching you meticulously place it as if it had just fallen in place.

“Makin’ it look like a murder-suicide. They can’t pin it to us if it don’t look like they were just murdered.” You explained, leaving the gun in his hand and taking a few shaky steps back as you stared at the corpse. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You had never imagined yourself shooting anyone let alone fixing a crime scene to get away with murder. This was an extreme situation though. You had to shoot Sandy and Arvin had to shoot Carl. They were going to kill you two if you didn’t kill them first.

Arvin noticed the way your face had noticeably paled and how your eyes were glued to Carl’s body and the splatters of crimson liquid that pooled on his shirt and dripped onto the earth beneath his body. He stepped between you and Carl’s body and put his hand on your shoulder, the other gently on your face. His beautiful face blocked your view but you still struggled to fight the tunnel vision. “Hey, look at me. Look at me!” He urged, his grip on your face getting ever so slightly more firm when he noticed your eyes try to dart around his frame to see the body again. Arvin wasn’t hurting you by any means, just trying to keep you focused on him. “You did what you had to do, ya hear me? They was gonna kill both of us. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Now we just gotta get outta here, okay?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tightly for just a moment to ground yourself. In your brief moment of meditation, you tried to focus on anything to ground you but the only calming thing you could process was Arvin’s comforting hands on your shoulder and face and the way you could feel his gaze still on you with so much concern and determination, even with your eyes closed.

When you opened them again, you breathed out, “Okay.”

Arvin glanced down and noticed the thin trails of blood that were starting to dribble down your torso from the deeper scrapes and at first reached out to button your shirt for you but hesitated, his hands shrinking back when he realized he wasn’t sure whether that was the appropriate response. You flinched back a little when he reached for your top out of pure instinct but quickly relaxed. You glanced down, just now noticing that your shirt was still unbuttoned. “‘M sorry, I just…” You trailed off, unsure of how to explain your new reaction in light of the trauma you’d just gone through. Your fingers nimbly began to button up your shirt but you hissed when the fabric tightened around the copious lesions.

“No, it’s alright. Here, take my jacket.” He was already shrugging off the denim jacket before he finished speaking.

You put your hand up, clutching the opened fabric of your shirt together in your hand in front of your chest instead of buttoning it properly, finding this way you could keep the fabric from sticking to your wounds. “I can’t take your jacket. I don’t wanna get blood on it.” Arvin’s eyes followed yours until they landed on the small spots of blood already seeping through your thin blouse.

Without allowing you to protest, he slung in over your shoulders, engulfing you arms and all. “It’s fine, really. I insist. You can’t go walkin’ ‘round all exposed like that. I can try to help you clean up if we find any rags.”

You sighed when the fabric covered your arms and his scent engulfed your senses. Yet again, you found yourself numb to the world, if only for a second, but this time because all you could experience was Arvin Russel. Tunnel vision made him your only view and all you inhaled was the scent of clean musk, wet earth, and the faint scent of car grease. “Thank you.” You whispered, gripping onto the open sides just enough to keep the garment from slipping off your shoulders.

Arvin just nodded reassuringly before wordlessly taking off towards Carl and Sandy’s car. You followed curiously. He searched around frantically and, while you were unsure of what he was looking for, you were curious to see what he’d find. For the most part, there was nothing out of the usual, until he came across a roll of film in the glove compartment. With trembling hands, he unrolled the small canister and looked at the negatives. “Oh my God-” He trailed off in horror.

“What is it?” You asked, reaching for the film. The images nearly made you throw up. Even though they were difficult to see because they were only negatives, it was still fairly clear what they were. Pictures of men and Sandy filled the roll but they got progressively more violent and graphic, sexually and gorily. At first, they were just sitting together but then Sandy was topless in the next one and then they were kissing in the one after that and then the man would be naked in the following. Eventually, there’d only be a pool of what you assumed to be blood where his genitals should have been before finally just shots of a motionless bloody corpse that used to be whoever that poor man was.

“Shit… we were next, weren’t we?” You asked, images of you and Arvin facing this same kind of torture flooding your mind and making your stomach churn. The guilt you had felt for shooting Sandy was melting away and you actually felt almost glad you and Arvin had ended this pair of monsters. They couldn’t hurt anyone else the way they had brutally slaughtered these other men.

“I think so. Fuck, there’s a bunch of ‘em.” Arvin pulled out at least four other canisters, too scared to open them. It was safe to assume what they were photos of and you really didn’t want to see anymore.

Your hands shook so much you could barely keep your grip on the negatives, “We need to give these to the police. If we prove they were serial killers, maybe they won’t send us to jail. It was self-defense.”

Arvin really did appreciate the fact that you so badly wanted to be good and honest. Killing people wasn’t easy and he was pretty damn sure you’d never done it before. Hell, before today, neither had he. Maybe it would be easy for you to get off without any charges if you came clean but he was sure the police would be looking for him for killing Preston Teagarden any moment now. The note he’d left for his uncle and grandma back home was pretty much sure evidence that he was the murderer. If the two of you went to the police, he’d be practically turning himself in. He couldn’t do it.

“I-I can’t go to the police. I can’t tell you why but I can’t. If you want to go to the police, you can’t tell ‘em I was here. Tell ‘em you was by yourself.” Arvin looked up at you from where he sat in the passenger seat.

You looked down at him, realization dawning on your face. “You did somethin’, didn’t you? That’s why you were hitchhiking. You were runnin’ away.”

Arvin got quiet and looked down at the ground where your white shoes, now scuffed up from the encounter, made contact with the soil and leaves that covered the ground. He shouldn’t tell you the truth but for some reason he really wanted to. There was an energy radiating off of you that felt safe and understanding and maybe he shouldn’t trust you but gosh did he want to. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he answered, still avoiding your gaze, “I- I didn’t want to but… he hurt my sister real bad.”

Your silence scared Arvin. He shouldn’t have opened up, especially to a girl that was practically a stranger. Being nearly killed by a pair of serial killers creates a strange bond between two people though. Arvin’s heart stopped beating until you finally spoke again. “I believe you. It’s okay.”

The surprise was clear in Arvin’s scared eyes when he finally looked back up to you. You didn’t look scared of him like he had feared. You actually looked almost sad for him.

Inside, you were. Arvin Russell was a good man - you could just feel it. From your brief but intense experience with him today, you could tell that he was a kind, polite soul but there was clearly a fire that burned inside him, an urge to protect those he cared about. You had seen first hand that he was more than capable of protecting himself and others, even at high stakes… and now so were you. You were no different than him now so you were in no position to judge for what he may have done.

“If you don’t want to go to the police, we won’t. We can get as far from here as possible and keep this our secret.” You assured, uncomfortable by how comfortable you were with the idea of running from the law.

Arvin took a moment to try and figure out the next step. Whatever it was, it needed to happen fast so you two had enough time to put space between you and the crime scene. He thought to the next closest town and groaned, “What’s wrong with your car?”

“I don’t know. It just started actin’ up while I was drivin’ and when I pulled over, it wouldn’t start up again.” You thought back to the vehicle, which still sat on the side of the road no more than three miles back.

Arvin stood up from the passenger seat and you stepped aside so he could have some room. “I know a little ‘bout cars. It might not be too bad a fix. Walkin’ back and fixing up the car wouldn’t take as long as walking the next ten or fifteen miles to Falksville.” Arvin was right. You were right between Coal Creek, where apparently Arvin was on the run from, and Falksville, the next town over. It would take hours to walk there.

“Alright,” you agreed. You walked to the backdoor and opened it to grab your duffel bag, handing Arvin his bag as well. Before the two of you started your trek back to your car, you couldn’t help but look back at the crime scene - the two dead bodies lying motionless, knowing you did that, the way that you had manipulated the scene, the way that you were running away with Arvin to literally flee the police. The weight of the situation weighed on you with a heavy sigh.

A hand rested on your shoulder, “We did what we had to.” You tore your gaze from the scene, the image burned into your memory for the rest of your life. It was difficult to argue with those beautiful brown eyes that looked at you like you were someone he genuinely cared for, not like you were the stranger to him that you actually were.

You stood up a little straighter, cast one more look over at the scene before turning around to face the road. “I know.”

The walk took almost an hour and neither of you tried to hitchhike your way there. Once you arrived, you attempted to clean your wounds with a pile of napkins you had hidden in your glove compartment and a water bottle while Arvin tinkered under the hood of your car. it didn’t take long for him to figure out the problem and with the help of the tool set your father insisted on you keeping in your trunk in case of an emergency (like this), he was able to get the car up and running.

“Alright, try it now.” He instructed from under the hood. You sat in the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition whenever Arvin instructed to see if the car would turn over. You twisted the key again and the car struggled at first, the pulsing mechanical sound of the car trying to turn over tearing through the quiet woods. Just as you were about to admit defeat this round, the roar of the engine came to life and just like that, your car ran again.

A big smile spread across your face and you jumped out of the driver’s seat to stand beside Arvin, both of you looking down at the engine beneath the hood. “I can’t believe that worked! Thank you so much!”

Arvin reached up and shut the hood. “It’s no problem. We should get goin’ though.”

You nodded in agreement, “Where do you need a ride to?”

He thought for a moment. Arvin wasn’t quite sure. He had been hitching rides to Meade so he could see his old home but you weren’t going anywhere near that way. He didn’t want to ask you to go so far out of your way but then it occurred to him…. “Where are you goin’?”

“Back home. My parents are expectin’ me home tonight but I can give you a ride where you need.” You answered as if it were obvious. The best way to act normal was to do exactly that: act normal.

Arvin chewed his tongue, “You don’t live too far from here. It might be easy to link you to the crime if they catch you.” He didn’t want to scare you but he also didn’t want to see you get locked up.

You rolled your eyes, “If that were true, they’d have to suspect every person in a thirty mile radius. It’s illogical for the police to single us out. You can stay at my house for a few days, if you need.”

Arvin just shook his head, “I got some things I gotta do. Look, I really think you should get away for a little while so they can’t connect you to the crime but I understand if not. If it’s not too much to ask, though, would you mind possibly given’ me a lift to Falksville so I can hitch a ride there? I ain’t got much money for gas but-”

“I ain’t lettin’ you hitchhike your way to Meade. Not after what just happened. I can give you a ride there.” You leaned against the hood of your car and looked up at him sincerely.

“You sure? What ‘bout your parents? Ain’t they expectin’ you?”

You just shrugged, “I’ll call ‘em in Fawksville and tell ‘em I decided to head up to Meade for a few days. Shouldn’t be a problem at all. That way I can give you a ride up to Meade and then you can take the bus there to wherever you wanna go.”

“That’s real kind of you. Thank you.” His hands twitched in his pocket, wanting to reach out and hug you but physical affection had made Arvin nervous ever since his mother got sick.

You nodded your head back to the car, “Hop in. We can head out and get as far as we can tonight. Either find a hotel or we can switch off when we get too tired.” Arvin listened and wordlessly slid into the passenger seat.

The two of you drove off into the night, the stars beginning to shine brightly in the lightless woods. You weren’t quite sure what your life would be like now and neither was Arvin. There was blood on your hands and there would be a constant paranoia that one day the cops would catch up with you and throw you in prison, even if you ran away like Arvin had suggested.

And then there was Arvin. Handsome, altruistic, and brave, you were bonded to this stranger by the horrors you had endured and the blood you had shed. Though the two of you were strangers, there was a closeness that you felt to him that seemed impossible to feel with anyone else- a bond between survivors that would always be there, even if you never saw each other again. Something told you that this man would be a salient figure in your life, though.

As you drove off down the highway, the only sound being the faint crackling radio, you tried to leave the horrors of the road behind you but there was a feeling in your gut that this was far from the end.

#Arvin Russell #arvin russel imagine #arvin russel #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel imagines #arvin x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x you #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics

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theyanderespecialist · 4 years ago

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MY Winters: Various Yandere Resident Evil 8 X OC Female Ethan (Story Teaser/First Chapter)

Marie Winters, she will do anything for family even make deals with people in obsessive love with her. Anything to get her daughter back.

[Side Note this starts right when Heisenberg catches you this was originally going to be a mini series in the horror and slasher one shot series but it became a story so please enjoy

WARNING This has a LOT MORE SEX And Sexual tension in it!]

Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/270098192-my-winters-various-yandere-resident-evil-8-x-oc

Quotev:

https://www.quotev.com/story/13860317/MY-Winters-Various-Yandere-Resident-Evil-8-X-OC-Female-Ethan

Heisenberg's Deal

This was going to be a mini series and now it is a full fledged story elsewhere and this will just be the first chapter posted here as a teaser. Stay sexy and please enjoy!]

(no one's pov)

"Fucking creatures.. fucking people, I said don't go back and what does she do? She goes back. Why won't people listen? Why?" Marie muttered to herself, angry but also saddened she failed those people. "..Rose... I'm coming for you.. I promise I won't ever let you out of my sight again.." Marie muttered as she went into the mine, wrapping her hand around a lever..and pulling as she stopped and realized it was too heavy for one hand as she had to wrap two of them, still nothing.

"....you're fucking- god damn it, how am I still alive?" She mutter as she was about to put all her weight in, as she jumped causing it to go down a bit as she groaned before she felt eyes on her.

(wow Marie is..Jesus Christ. Yeah let's hope he didn't see that, I mean Christ embarrassing)

(XD Yup)

"Well well look at you." She hears someone say and she jumps up.

She didn't know what to say, she just stared as he walked out of the shadows.

"I didn't think anyone was left, you must be pretty tough huh?" He asked tossing a cigarette to the ground as metal floated around him.

"Wh-Who are you?" She asked.

(Oh what's that? French? Forigen, exotic woman fetish xD jk

(No wait (SNIFFF SNIFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF SNNNNNNIFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF) I smell the accent fetish in this man XD He love the french ladies~~~)

He paused then smiled. "Your not a local, Mother Miranda is going love you." He says and knocks her out.

She fell, nearly hitting the ground if he didn't stop her, using the metal to act as handcuffs as he carried her out to the meeting, placing her on the ground as others looked at her.

"Well now..what do we have here?" "Found her in the mines." "Oh my, Marie Winters I see..the question is..what do we do with her." Mother Miranda spoke, but she already had plans.

"Oh give her to me mother..my daughters and I so do love to entertain foreigners.." a woman spoke looking at the girl as a doll checked her out as she let out a groan.

"j'ai mal à la tête.." (my head hurts

He shudder at that.

“She’s awake!!!” The doll cheers

This creature hobbled its way over to her, dripping some mucus on her dress, but was quickly pushed aside. "She's awake she's awake~! And I saw under her skirt--" "both of you shut the fuck up!" The man said

“Silence!” Mother Miranda says. “Since Heisenberg captured her he will decide her fate.”

"wh-what's happening? qui est Heisenberg?" She asked scared, now realizing she had no way to shoot or stab anything handcuffed like this.(Who is Heisenberg?)

Heisenberg stood up and picked up Marie over his shoulder. “See you al later.” He says

"where are you going?" Lady Dimitrescu asked as .other Miranda even looked confused. She was expecting him to try and kill her as a show and then have Marie escape only to then run into more danger and somehow survive that..but he just walked out on them.

(Meanwhile.)

"Let me go! Why won't you when answer me?! What are you going to do to me?!" She asked some anger, but once again, the main emotion was something else, this time, fear

“Pipe down.” He says. “We are almost there.”

"where?!" She asked as he didn't answer as she saw..was it a junk yard? No..the building behind was far to big to be a junk yard. He walked in as she still tried to get out as he stopped only just realizing she was moving.

"If you're going to kill me then just kill me! Otherwise let me get my daughter!"

(Oh you know if she doesn't virgin and the mold changes her body to regenerate..then she may constantly be a virgin, in the sense of a hymen, but she's not a virgin in the true sense Because say it with me Hymens do not mean virgin. To me virginity is the first CONSENSUAL sexual penetration. )

(Amen! Even if the hymen tears it does not mean you had your first time! )

“I will let you do that. After I make you mine that is.” He says and carries her to a bedroom.

Well...it was a bedroom, it was the cleanest one...meaning it had been dusted in the last week and the sheets were washed..2 weeks ago.

"Wh-What the fuck does that mean?!" She snapped.

“I think you know dear.” He says

She looked confused before it sunk in when he placed her down, putting the hammer down, making sure she would see it, as a deterrent for running.

"W-Wait no no no no no, no that- I'm just here for my daughter." She said looking up at him scared.

(Heisenberg pov) (Yas Metal daddy

"God I am not going force you." I say sitting next to her and taking my work boots off. "I am going make you a deal and tell you what is going on."

She looked at me. "Y-Your not going force me?" She asks.

"Hell no!" I say. "I may be a shit man but I DO NOT Rape."

She seemed to relax a bit and I take off my hat and push back my hair.

(Okay can I be real for a minutes yeah Heisenberg is not the best guy and will kill someone in his way but I do not see him even as a yandere the type to rape or even force a kiss most of the time. Yeah if he looses his temper he may swat at you hard with his hammer but if it was someone he truly loved I think he would regret it terribly. So he is most likely going to manipulate Marie into sex but he will hold up his end of the deal.)

(Yup definitely, to him it's a show, but it's no fun if the other person isn't enjoying it. And yeah one hit from that hammer and broken ribs)

((Yeah he of course regret it but he still got his issues but he will be the one to nurse you back to health and I also see him the type to work on his anger issues like the next time he gets angry again he punches the wall instead and storms out taking it out on anything else but his darling. like he learned his lesson and now he is trying this guy is one of the better yanderes to have really)

"look, I've been stuck with that bitch Miranda for almost a damn Century. You have any idea how HUMILIATING and DEGRADING it is to be treated like a servant- but I knew, I knew something was up, I'll make you a deal...you act like..let's say a caretaker of this factory, and..in about let's say 1 month we'll see how we are doing. There's a ritual taking place, 6 months from now that involves Rose. You take care of this place..and I'll let you leave and even help you on the way. Deal?" She looked at me.

"O-Okay..."

“Just so you don’t run off we will sleep in the same bed. Don’t worry clothes on you under the covers me on top of them, pillows acting like the Berlin Wall.” I tell her and she nods.

I start to show her around and have one month for her to fall in love with me. Or I am fucked.

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ruthoakenshield · 4 years ago

Text

Very Good Friends (Chapter 8)

Catch up here: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]

Reader x Henry Cavill, Reader x co-star named Dan

Warning: This tale is for 18+ readers ONLY!!! Mentions of flashbacks: (rape, anal sex, non-con sex, abuse), severe bruising and injury, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, humiliation, and some fluff to make us feel better. Smut comes later on in the story… Several chapters down the road… I promise!!!

If ANY of the warnings upset you or make you uncomfortable, DO NOT read below the cut! go find something else to read in this case.

If you are okay with reading those things then enjoy the tale below the cut.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. I do not own Henry nor do I have any personal knowledge of him besides what is common knowledge amongst the Cavillary. Any mistakes and typos are mine, story is not beta-tested. GIF I got from the tumbler search thingy.

Sunday morning arrives and it is cloudy and raining. Henry lays on the bed, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the trailer as you sleep, head still on his Pec. Arms wrapped around his broad chest and fingers holding his shirt. your body still wrapped in the comforter burrito. Neither of you shifted positions as you slept, and he still has his cheek resting against your head. The scent of peppermint still comforting his thoughts. He smiles realizing you seemed to sleep through the night with no nightmares this time. He hopes you finally got some much needed rest.

He thinks about the things the counselor said yesterday and he wonders if the self-defense class would help you like it did the other women. It certainly couldn’t hurt. He thought it might help you if he took the class as well. Then you both could spar together. He decided he’d talk to you about it when you woke up.

He wondered if you would like to try drawing or painting or creative writing to help you sort things out in your pretty little head of yours. He decided to ask you about it as well.

It was the beginning of August and it was chilly now in the mornings and evenings. He hadn’t turned on the furnace in the trailer yet. Though you were in your comforter burrito, he was for the most part uncovered and a little chilly. He made a mental note to have maintenance check the furnace and turn it on for him.

Henry hears his phone chirp, and he glances over to the nightstand where it sat. He reaches over and frowns when he sees it’s his publicist. He grabs his phone and unlocks it to see the message from his publicist: “Henry, FYI: Someone leaked what happened to the paparazzi, but are playing Dan as the victim. They’re having a heyday. Try to keep y/n off of social media and away from tv. Her publicist and I are teaming up with the studio’s trying to do damage control. Be careful who you talk with and share info with till we find out who the leaker is.” It read.

He quickly replies to her: “The only people we’ve talked to about any of this is the hospital staff, the police, the executive of the studio and the counselor besides my agent, you, y/n’s agent and her publicist, and my PA. I don’t know if y/n talked with her PA at all. What all is being said about y/n?” Henry asks.

She replies: “They’re saying she is falsely accusing him and that she forced him, and wanted it rough and that she was mad at him for rejecting her repeated attempts to get him to date her. She’s being labeled as a whore, who is trying to ruin his career.

Sounds to us like it’s his agent trying to set her up to take the blame so Dan can get off scott free since she is new to the business. They seem to think she can be used as the scapegoat.

There’s several of your castmates who have already posted to social media defending y/n and saying that Dan was the one harassing her and not taking no for an answer and that HE was the one wanting to date her and she refused him repeatedly. They also stated that she didn’t show up for his going away party and was the only one to do so. (Though they don’t know her reason for not showing up – no one has been told of her injuries yet except the studio heads, the director and the producers.)

The studio is trying to figure out if they can salvage the film now or if they are going to have to scrap it now that Dan’s fucked it up with this PR stunt. There’s talk of going after him for damages if the film flops or if they have to scrap it or delay it and have his role recast and refilm all his scenes.” His publicist texts him.

Henry groans, making you stir. He caresses your head, and you fall back asleep. Henry rubs his face, his brows knitted, and his forehead creased with worry.

“Ugh!!! Ok. What do you want me to do? She’s staying in my trailer and is REALLY struggling to come to terms with all this. She’s been having nightmares and last night was the first night she didn’t have them and slept soundly (on my chest).” Henry messages back.

“I’ll ask the director. I think we need to let the cast see y/n and talk to her; or show them the photos of the injures she sustained and explain to them their extent, so they know just how badly she’s been hurt. I have the photos from the PD in case we needed to have evidence shared of her injuries. I’ve edited them so her face isn’t showing, and her privates are covered. The arm, thigh and torso bruising and the obvious hand bruises on her neck should be sufficient to convince them.

Everyone was wondering why her trailer was being searched by the PD and why it was removed, then Dan pulls this PR stunt and eveyone’s asking me and her PR what’s going on. All we told them was that Dan attacked y/n and raped her the night before the party. But they don’t know how badly she was hurt.

The doctor I spoke with who treated her said she had serious lesions both in her ass and her vagina and throat from what Dan did to her, and that they had bled heavily from the sex. He suspected that Dan had some kind of ribbed sleeve or harness with stiff ribs or nubs on it that was scraping her as he had his way with her that caused the lesions. He said they are meant to be used with lube and there was no lube in her at all in neither of her holes nor her throat. He said it would’ve been incredibly painful and exposed her to a high risk for infection and STD’s if he had any.

The police found an empty box of condoms in her bedroom garbage. It contained 36 originally, when they searched the bedroom garbage and the bathroom one, they came up with all 36 of them and most of them had her blood and his semen in/on them. They also found dildos in varying sizes, some insanely bizarre, in Dan’s possession with her DNA on them buy only his hand / finger prints when they arrested him at his trailer. Judging by the security cameras’ he was in her trailer almost 12 hours.” She informs Henry.

He lays there in shock, he rubs his face and looks down at you. His face red with anger realizing you most likely endured at least 7 hours of this kind of torture. He cups your head with his hand and kisses your forehead. Wishing he had only known Dan’s intent and could’ve stopped it.

“Oh God! She said they watched one movie and she had put in the second one. Then she doesn’t remember what happened after that other than waking up twice to Dan fucking her. So, he was there at least two hours before he began to assault her sexually! God only knows how long it lasted and if he slept at all or raped her the entire time!” Henry replies. “I can’t imagine what she went through! No wonder she is emotionally shutting down and trying to just retreat inward! No wonder why she’s hurting physically SO bad!” he adds.

Henry caresses your head and back, he sighs. Not sure what to do now or how to help you. He just wants to cry knowing now, what you most likely endured. It was worse than anyone could’ve imagined. He hopes the cops throw the book at his idiot co-star. It just makes him sick what Dan did.

He snaps a photo of you asleep on his chest with his hand on your back, keeping his face out of the photo. Posting it to his Instagram page, he writes. “I am thinking of and praying for this wonderful, talented, incredibly kind, patient and amazing woman. You’ve endured more horrors than I could possibly imagine! I’m glad to know you and my support, thoughts and prayers are with you, Kitten, during this rough patch. You’ll get through it and shine all the brighter in the end. Keep your chin up our brave sweetheart, rest when you can, and don’t give up! We got your back!”

He sighs again and locks his screen. Setting it face down, he looks down at you and shakes his head in both amazement of what all you’ve endured, and sadness because he was not there to protect you and stop it. His heart aches for you. He closes his eyes and just holds you trying to be as supportive as he can.

About an hour later, he gets a group text from the director, producers and executive of the studio. “Please come to a meeting at the studio office today at 2pm to discuss current events and future plans for the film. Henry, bring y/n with you.”

Henry visibly cringes at the message. It either means they’re scrapping it, or they’re going forward and have some serious plans hoping to make this film work.

Henry carefully turns the two of you onto your sides, with you against the pillows you had propped there behind you when you climbed in next to him. He gently peels your arms off his shirt and he carefully slips himself out from beside you, propping you with more pillows to keep you hopefully asleep and comfortable for a while yet. He suspects his phone is going to blow up now and doesn’t want to disturb you.

Henry turns the ringer off, so it just vibrates and keeps it in his pants pocket as he gets up and heads for the bathroom. He does his thing and gets freshened up and goes into his room and changes clothes. About a half hour later, he starts getting messages from the other costars asking what’s going on. He sighs and does a conference call with them all while he is in the guest bathroom on the opposite end of the trailer, trimming his beard stubble, so you weren’t bothered.

He tells them he can’t say much about what’s going on until the meeting. He explains you’re staying with him in his trailer because it is where you currently feel safe and protected, and that you are really struggling with what happened to you. He asks them to please be supportive of you and to respect your need to just cope.

They ask if what Dan is claiming is true and Henry tells them no, it is quite the opposite. “Just be careful who you talk to about this. There’s a leaker somewhere and we haven’t been able to find out who it is. When we get to the meeting you all will be filled in with exactly what happened and how bad it really is. Until then, don’t comment to anyone about any of this.”

They ask if he has any idea if the film will continue or be scrapped. “I have no idea. My agent said they were trying to figure out what to do, there was talk of scrapping it if there’s no way to save it, depending on the public outcry; they talked about replacing Dan with a different actor and re-filming all the scenes he was in, and there was talk of going after Dan for damages depending on what is decided. I have no idea what option they chose or if they came up with other options. “It’s a PR nightmare thanks to Dan deciding to be an asshole.” Henry tells them.

“How is y/n doing, Henry? I mean really.” One co-star asks. Henry sighs, “She’s struggling big time. I am too. She is hurting immensely, both physically and emotionally. She’s been having nightmares and struggling to get restful sleep because of what Dan did to her. It just makes me sick to know what he did and be powerless to really help besides holding her and letting her cry and trying to be supportive and encouraging. You’ll understand when you see her. I hope they throw the book at Dan for what he did. He’s a monster as far as I’m concerned. No woman should have to go through what he did to her!” Henry growls, trying to keep quiet and not wake you up.

They are all quiet. “Henry, would you mind if we left her some encouragement outside your trailer? We don’t want to disturb her or anything, just want to let her know we’re thinking about her and support her in this and that we’re here for her. Whatever she needs.” They ask.

“That’s fine, guys. I’m sure she’ll appreciate any support we can give her. This isn’t going to be a fast recovery by any means.” He tells them.

“She’s such a great gal, Hen, I’m so sorry to hear Dan hurt her so badly. She was such a little ray of sunshine on set, always smiling and bubbly.” One costar comments. There’s murmuring of agreement amongst the co-stars. “Yeah, we all saw how Dan would treat her on set. I regret not reporting him now.” another costar says. Others murmur similar regret. “Well if you hear noise outside the trailer, don’t be alarmed, it’s just us. Okay, Hen?” they tell him. “Okay guys. We’ll see you around 2pm.” He tells them and hangs up.

More chapters to come...

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jawritter · 5 years ago

Text

You and Me...

Chapter 4

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Okay guys please pay attention to the warnings I’m about to say! This chapter gets a little heavy, and this is where it all starts to kind of pick up. This chapter will contain hints of non-con/ rape. Rough smut, Jensen is a complete ass hole in this one, and before you ask there is a reason for it, mostly to give you a peek at his mindset before things really get rocky for him. The actions of the characters in this fic are completely fiction, and they are not to be seen as reflections of the people themselves! Lighter warnings are language, self-loathing (implied on Jensen’s part), mild descriptions of injury related to sex, nothing heavy there’s worse out there, degrading actions in a way, regret, angst, smut, I think that’s everything. (At least I hope so.)

Word Count: 2236

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Misha, Jensen Ackles x Jared, Jensen Ackles x Jessica, Reader X OFC Alex

A/N: When I originally wrote this chapter I didn’t even know who Steve Carlson was, so the Steve in this story isn’t him lol. Oddly enough I wrote this before I even really knew he was making an album lol. Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. After this chapter things tend to start to pick up a little.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

Jensen’s POV:

“I can’t believe she got you back!”

Jared was laughing, leaning up against the bar in Jensen’s kitchen. Misha was sitting across from him, trying to hide the fact that he thought it was more than a little funny as well.

“Yeah man, you kinda ask for it,” he finally said, taking a long swig of his beer. A smirk firmly planted on his face and his eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement.

"Screw you both,“ Jensen said, turning around and grabbing himself a beer out of the fridge, a smirk playing across his face. He saw the hint of jealousy cross Y/N’s face when he greeted Jennifer today. He didn’t miss that every time he gave Jennifer a compliment, or flirted with her just a little bit that it was getting under Y/N’s skin. He knew Y/N had a crush on him.

He’d been in the entertainment industry long enough to be able to pick it off a girl’s face across a room. Which came in pretty handy at bars and parties.

He saw the way her breath caught when she met him for the first time. He saw the smirk cross her face when he got pissed today while she was screwing with him.

Jensen slipped his tongue out and over his full pink lips, letting it run across his lips slowly, followed by his teeth pulling slightly at his bottom lip.

"I know that look,” Misha said not even trying to hide his amusement at this point. “He likes her,” he said, looking to Jared grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Jensen’s got the hots for Y/N,” still with that same evil smirk on his face.

“What? No, I don’t!” Jensen said, getting up from his seat he’d just sat in across the bar from Jared and turning his back to them again so that they could not see his face, acting like he was cleaning up a spill on the counter.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen that look before. You got a crush on Y/N. Furthermore, I think she may have it for you just as bad. She just doesn’t know it yet,” Misha said, taking another swig of his beer, raising his eyebrows annoyingly.

“I do not have a thing for Y/N,” Jensen said, still trying to defend himself. “She’s a self-absorbed little bitch.”

“She’s only a bitch because you’re a dick,” Jared said, staring at his friend and trying his best to read him.

Jensen just stopped wiping at the counter and stared at him. The conversation he walked up on coming back to his mind. The look on Y/N’s face when she said that he was probably gonna go fuck Jennifer later stun more than he wanted to admit it did, even to himself.

He ran his fingers ideally over the small piece of paper in his pocket that Jennifer had slipped there when he hugged her goodbye today. No doubt it was her number. He definitely had a chance to get her in bed. That’s all he’d want from her anyway. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but she was a lot younger than him, and he didn’t want to screw up her life by letting her get attached to him. It had been way too long since he was ‘with’ a woman, and he needed to blow off some steam.

“I’m definitely thinking about hooking up with that blonde though,” Jensen said with a smirk, his friends exchanged worried looks between themselves.

“Jay she’s young, man,” Jared said looking at his friend, his concern grew more and more by the minute. He’d never seen Jensen act this way before, much less heard him talk about or to a woman the way he has lately.

“She’s legal,” Jensen said, waving his hand, and blowing his friend off, and pulling out his phone and the little slip of paper.

“Whatever man, I still think it’s a bad idea,” Misha said, getting up and finishing his beer. He didn’t like to see Jensen in this state, and he wasn’t going to watch him sit around and do something stupid.

“I’ll see you guys around. I got a charity event to help organize. You guys gonna be there?” he asked, looking at Jared more than Jensen. Seems like Jensen’s plans had already been set for the night.

“Sure man, I’ll be there,” Jared said, getting up to see Misha out to his rental car. Jensen just grunted and continued texting, setting up his meetup for tonight.

Your POV:

Sitting at your friend’s bar in downtown Austin you take a look at the room that was buzzing around you.

It wasn’t late, but it was a weekday, so the crowd here was kind of calmer than usual. You liked it when the bar was like this. Less noise and chaos. Alex, your friend, was leaning in on the bar cleaning off some spilled alcohol from a few minutes ago when he tried to show off his shot stacking skills and failed miserably. You needed the laugh. He was always good for that. That’s why he was one of the people you were closest to. He always knew how to pick you up when you needed it.

“So, how much longer do you have to work with said dick?” Alex asked, you weren’t supposed to tell anyone that Jensen was recording at your work, but you knew Alex wouldn’t tell anyone.

The two of you had met In college, and he was the older brother you never had. You told him everything. You always had. When you started having trouble in any way you always told him. This Jensen issue was no different.

“Not a clue. Kinda is up to him. However long it takes for him to correctly cut the 12 songs he’s chosen to record. He’s talented enough, but he’s such a raging ass hole,” you tell him, taking a long swig of your beer.

“You know it seems a little out of character for the guy. I’ve seen all the convention videos and watched the tv interviews. He didn’t seem like a dick then. Jared said he was going through a divorce. We don’t know what his ex-wife did. Just give him some space and some respect. We’re not in his shoes and we don’t know what he’s going through. He may loosen up around you now that he knows you can hold your own,” Alex said, walking down the bar to wait on another customer.

You knew he was right. He usually was. Alex always tried to see the best in everyone, no matter how they presented themselves. That was just his way.

Maybe some of this was your fault. You hadn’t exactly handled this situation like an adult either. So if you were being completely honest with yourself, you could be partially to blame.

Tomorrow you will try and make peace with the man because you didn’t really want to go to war with someone like him. You also had watched the con videos, and the thought of having to deal with an ass hole who likes to prank people just wasn’t falling very high on your bucket list.

Tonight though, you would enjoy the fact that today you won. That would be enough. You still had to work with the man for the foreseeable future. There was no reason to have to go to work miserable every day, just because you couldn’t handle a little attitude from a client.

You were going to be the bigger person if it killed you.

Still, when he looked at you, no matter how mad you were at him, or how much you tried to hate him, you get that same feeling deep in your gut that you haven’t been able to pinpoint yet. It bothered you. It bothered you more than it probably should have. Cause once he was done with this recording, you knew you’d never see him again. That was probably what got to you most of all.

Jensen’s POV:

Sliding his now softened length out of the young blond laying underneath him, Jensen immediately stood to his feet without even looking at Jennifer he started for the bathroom. She laid there on the bed, saying nothing, just staring at Jensen. A pissed off look on her face.

That was not what she expected.

That wasn’t what she really wanted.

How could she tell him no though? He really gave her no room for an opinion.

Jensen had been a little rough with Jennifer purposely. All he wanted was to do what came there to do and leave. He didn’t want her getting attached, and catching feelings that he honestly wouldn’t be able to reciprocate it.

Someone else seemed to have a hold on him already, no matter how much he fought against it.

He could tell she hadn’t enjoyed what had just gone on between them. He had got off though, and so in his opinion, his mission was accomplished.

When he came out of the bathroom he saw her sitting with her back to him slipping her shirt back on over her head. He saw the light purple bruises he had left on her neck and sides. Flashes of what went on a few moments ago ran in front of his eyes.

Her small frame slamming against the door. His hands roughly undressed her. The feeling of his hand firmly around her throat. The look of fear in her eyes.

He shook his head trying to shake the image from his mind. Guilt already starting to take its hold.

When she stood to slide her skirt back up her legs he saw the bruises he had left here in the shape of his fingers. She had told him he was hurting her, that she wanted him to stop; but he didn’t. He just kept going until he was finished... Why didn’t he just stop…

Jensen swallowed hard, trying to not vomit in the middle of the hotel room floor. His own actions made him sick to his stomach. Why did he do that? What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t want to hurt her. He just… He just lost control, taking things out on her that he’d obviously had pint up inside of him since the divorce.

Walking over to her without a word Jensen looked down at her, and she wouldn’t look at him. Damn, he’d screwed up now, and he knew it.

Putting his finger under her chin, making her look at him. He stared at her for a moment. There was something wrong, no light there. The excited girl he’d taken here just an hour before long gone.

He hated what he was doing, but he had to protect himself.

“Let’s just keep tonight between you and me. No need for anyone else to know,” he said, winking at her like it could solve everything, and she’d just melt at his feet and forgive him.

He knew that wasn’t going to happen. She said nothing, just stared at him with hate forming in her eyes. Pulling a few bills from his pocket, Jensen threw it on the bed next to her. She looked down at the money, and then up to him.

“Show yourself out,” he said. grabbing his wallet and heading for the door.

He hated himself for what he just did. He saw it now. He needed help. The look on that poor girl’s face haunting his memory as he drove back to his house, stopping several times along the way to throw up. Even though it started out consensual, it hadn’t ended that way and he knew it.

He didn’t even make it to the front door before another wave of bile fell from his mouth uncontrollably, having already lost the entire contents of his stomach on the drive home.

He had turned into a monster. He hated himself for what he’d just done, but he couldn’t take it back. It was done. There was no way to fix it.

Images of himself repeatedly ramming himself into her. The dead star that took hold on her face after she finally gave up begging him to stop. The tears that were pouring down her face. How she tried to squirm away from him...

Another wave of sick came falling from his mouth as he stood in the shower, scrubbing his skin raw under scalding hot water, trying to wash the monster away. He’d never forgive himself for what he’d done to Jennifer. He dreaded facing her at the studio tomorrow. How in the hell was he going to face someone he’d hurt so deeply?

He drank himself to sleep that night, texting Jared telling him that he was sorry for the way he’d been acting, promising he would stop being an ass hole. He didn’t tell his friend what he’d done, he couldn’t, he could never tell anyone. It would die with him, shame making him hate himself deeper than he ever thought was possible.

He laid there that night praying that whoever was listening up there would forgive him for what he’d done.

Give him another chance.

—————————————————————————————————-

Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @alanegaming @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin

Series Tag List:

@imaginationisgrowth

@idksupernatural

@fuzzycloudsz

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@vicmc624

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles dark fic #hurt!jensen #jensen x you #jensen x reader #jensen fanfiction #jensen fanfic #jensen #dark fick #SPN fanfiction #SPN Fanfic #SPN #jensen ackles series

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justmenoworries · 4 years ago

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Record Of Ragnarok - Review (Warning: Major Spoilers)

Shuumatsu no Walküre or, as it’s known in other countries, Records Of Ragnarok, is an Action Manga by Takumi Fukui, Shinya Umemura and Chika Aji that centers around the end of the world. As of now, it has 33 chapters, contained in 6 volumes.

Summary:

The story in a nutshell is that the gods have become fed up with humanity and decided to just fuck it and kill us to do whatever it is gods do in peace. The valkyrie Brunhilde objects rather strongly to this and invokes the Ragnarok clause to give humanity a chance to survive. The gods and the humans each provide 13 champions to fight for them and whichever side has the most victories after 13 rounds wins. If humanity wins, we keep living and if the gods win, we get unalived.

Pros:

The Premise. The stakes are high enough to get you pumped for each battle and it also leaves a lot of room for moral greyness on both sides. On one hand, we have the gods who strive to eradicate humanity and are almost unanimously presented as privileged jerkasses - but then you get characters like Heracles and Buddha who are technically on the divine side, but are shown to actually not support the plan to kill all humans. On the other hand we have humanity literally fighting to survive - but the manga never shies away from showing that humans are not all innocent cinnamon roles and even poses the question if humanity really deserves to survive sometimes. I mean, how much would you want to root for people who are having Jack the Ripper, a scumbag serial killer, fight as one of their champions? Speaking of which...

The champions. A few of you might have perked up at the mention of Jack the Ripper. As it turns out, whether a champion has been dead for years by the time of the story’s present doesn’t really matter: They get to participate all the same. Leading to a bunch of historical characters getting the chance to prove their badassery in the ring. Even better? This story follows the “all myths are true and all gods exist”-rule. You heard right: Every deity, no matter what religion or what part of the world they originated from, has the potential to become an anime villain! Ever wanted to see Lü Bu going at it with Thor? Well, now you can! Wanna see who’d win in a wrestling match between Raiden Tameemon and Shiva? Just read this manga!

The world-building. Record’s lore and backstories are detailed enough to have their own side-chapters and some of the characters’ pasts really make you feel for them. Wanna know how much? This manga, for a split-second at least, made me feel sorry for an unrepentant serial killer. The writing is just that good.

The art-style. It’s incredibly expressive and detailed, especially in the fight- scenes. The covers are beautiful, the character design is creative and gives every character their own, distinct style. And I know this may sound perv-y, but Aji Chika really knows how to draw naked bodies. Just... don’t pay too much attention to the anatomy.

The battles. As of the time I’m writing this, 4 out of 13 fights have been concluded and the fifth one is currently playing out. Each of the fights demonstrate so much personality and the match-ups are insanely cool. It’s never a closed case which combatant is going to win, each fight has so many twists and turns and the fighters themselves have a lot of chemistry with each other. Their motivations are, for the most part, understandable and fit the characters. If you can, check out the youtube - series by AmiasD Backup, you won’t regret it. The editing and the added background music really bring out the inherent epicness of the manga.

Cons:

The battles tend to suffer from, what i like to call, Anime Battle Syndrome. The action will screech to a halt at several points in order to let the characters monologue about their strategy, boast of their former accomplishments or just kinda... talk to each other for no good reason at all. Or have the background characters talk about something that just happened at length until you just want to shout “I know! I saw, I was there!”And the flashbacks detailing the combatants’ backstories are often just tedious. I know I praised them in my Pro-list, but no matter how cool a backstory is, if it comes smack in the middle of a hyped-up confrontation, it’s annoying! I don’t wanna see five pages of a character reminiscing how they once ate a bug when they were six, I wanna see two guys beat the shit out of each other to decide the fate of all of humankind! Just tell me the story after the battle, jfc.

The comedic aspects of the story are not handled well. I mean, I get it: In a story about the literal end of the world not having at least a few lighter moments would probably lead to the readers putting down the manga eventually because it just got too depressing. But the way Records handles it can cause some pretty big whiplash. One moment you’re on the edge of your seat, biting your fingernails in anticipation of how a certain move in the current battle has played out - only to be confronted with a joke about how Ares is dumb, or one of the background characters making an inappropriate comment. Add to that the uncomfortably high number of sexist and sometimes rape-y jokes and you got a pretty yikes collection of failed attempts to implant humor. Speaking of which...

The manga has a really weird and uncomfortable relationship with women. They’re either oversexualised to the point of being nothing more than a walking, bouncing pair of breasts and hips, or side-lined in order to give all the spotlight to the male characters. For example: The valkyries. The valkyries in norse mythology are a people of badass warrior maidens. In the manga, it’s the valkyrie Brunhilde who kickstarts the tournament for humanities’ right to keep existing. She’s also the one who selects the human champions and prepares them for their upcoming battles by introducing them to their valkyrie-partners, their “Volund”, and she acts as an overseer for each round. She’s about the most involved female character you’ll get in this story. Her sisters, the other valkyries, are literally objectified to serve as weapons to the male champions. One of them is brutally forced to submit to her partner, in a scene that is eerily reminiscent of assault. You’d think an amazon brigade as famous as the valkyries would be treated better than that, in a manga centered around fighting. Nope. They just get to be inanimate objects for the guys to wield. Oh, and if a champion dies, so does his Volund. So not only do the valkyries not get to fight themselves, they pay the price if their partner screws up. Lovely. Another glaring point I want to bring up: There are no female champions. On either side. We get shown a list of the human champions early on and all of them are male. All the divine combatants so far have been male, too. And there’s no indication that that’ll change in the future. Which is weird, because there is certainly no shortage of badass female characters that could have been used in the plot, both historical and mythological. But nope! Pure sausage fest is what we get instead. What’s that? You wanted to see Jeanne d’Arc or Ishtar or Sekmet or Lyudmila Pavlichenko or Anne Bonnie, or literally any of the dozen of amazing female fighters history and mythology have produced? Tough luck! Saving humanity is apparently a men-only sport.

Overall, Record Of Ragnarok is a story with an interesting premise and a plot rife with potential, but it just has too many flaws for me to declare it perfect or even good, to be honest.

For what it is, it’s an okay read. If you’re willing to muscle through the blatant misogyny prevalent in some parts of it. And the rather painful attempts at humor.

4.9/10. Could’ve been done better.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #review #media criticism #assault mention #attempted rape #misogyny

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multific · 5 years ago

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Your Love Story

Xavier Plympton x Reader

Warnings: Swearwords, this is considered to be an AU, because it follows the original storyline, but I modified the majority of it.

Summary: Your father is a businessman with connections and power, you were always considered to be a rich kid and a brat so you spent all your life trying to prove that you didn’t need your father’s connections to start your own life. And that is why you went to Camp Redwood.

Your love story started at a bar where you worked, near the camp. You worked alongside two of your great friends, Nora and Tory. Nora and you met when she was drunk at a bar and a guy was trying to get her to go with him but you interfered and helped her, the two of you had been best friends since then.

When she told you about the restaurant/bar her father wanted to open near a camp, you knew that this will be your chance of finally proving to everyone that you didn’t need your father to help you out and that you were capable of living alone. He always wanted you to live in luxury and wealth, that was one of the reasons why he didn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, his hand reached out everywhere, so he knew, you’d be safe. When the bar opened, you were excited and happy, but it soon became evident to you that you did need the help of your dad. But you kept most of your dignity and only asked him when it was absolutely necessary. So, in the end, you did start your own life, but at the same time still received the help of your father. After two years of working at the bar, you just didn’t care about what others had to say and started to really enjoy your life. You bought yourself a caravan and you were living in it now, you got your car from your father for your birthday.

And as soon as the red sports car was in front of you, you accepted your fate as the rich kid and stopped fighting against it.

Obviously you used a fake last name, you didn’t want everyone to know who you really were, so your made-up name was Y/N Green. Not a very creative one, but everyone seemed to believe it, even Nora went along with your plan.

Tory was what you’d call a typical black girl. And you loved her, her attitude slowly started to stick to you and you began to change. You stopped taking shit from others and had a big mouth with a no fucks given attitude. Nora told you one time that it’s like a part of Tory was stuck to you while a part of you got stuck to her.

Each year you had a plan for summer and that summer you had two promises, one, you’ll have a great time no matter the consequences and two, no boys. Since your ex was an asshole and broke up with you over a simple fight, you didn’t need the drama. You wanted to sunbathe, get a nice tan. Give all the boys hard-ons and then walk away. That was your plan. A plan you wanted to execute, but as soon as you met with a certain blonde, it all went out the window. Margaret brought all the counselors over to introduce all three of you to them.

His name was Xavier Plympton. He was around your age, handsome, gorgeous eyes and great physique, but there were problems with him, of course.

First, Montana, his ex, she seemed to be around him all the time, and you even caught them kissing once, however when you asked Chet about them, he said that it was nothing in between them other anymore.

And second, he gave you major gay vibes. You saw him giving an aerobics class to the others and just the way he moved set your alarm off. But if he was gay, why would he flirt with Montana? Maybe he wanted to hide it?

Even so, you didn’t care. There was something about him that you liked so much, not just his appearance, his attitude, the way he carried himself. You never imagined you’d have a crush on a guy like him, but there you were. Standing at the bar staring at the glass in front of you while thinking about ways to get closer to him.

You felt pathetic, never once a man or boy made you feel like that.

“Alright, I have big plans for tomorrow. There will be a party and we NEED to be there.” came in Nora after her coffee break.

“Okay. I’m on for anything, but why do we NEED to be there?”

“One name, Greg.”

“Oh no.

“OH YES.” Greg was the local handsome guy, well not counting the new counselors at the camp and Nora was head over heels for him, well more like she wanted him to do her at least once. “He’s holding the party at his house, Y/N you’ll be our designated driver since you have a car and Tory really wants to drink, so you can’t drink.”

“So, you are making me go to a house party and I can’t even drink? Doesn’t sound like a great time to me.”

“You can always just sit here and think about the new blonde counselor while daydreaming.”

“I don’t daydream.”

“So, you’re not denying it?”

“Should I? He’s good-looking but an idiot at the same time.”

“Great, so you’re coming! Tory, Y/N’s in!”

You heard her talking to Tory in the kitchen while you let out a long sigh, there was no way you wouldn’t go to a party like that, but the fact that you couldn’t even drink bothered you.

***

The next night all counselors of the camp were sitting outside drinking beers while talking. They slowly got used to each other and all the guys called dibs on the girls, they were having a great time.

“Chet, you have no chance with Y/N, she’s too good for you. She’ll definitely choose me.” said Trevor.

“Right on, man. I bet she likes your moustache.”

As everyone laughed at Chet’s joke, they noticed a car pulling up. You got out of the car and walked over to the bunch. Everyone was quiet. You looked like you just walked out of a party, which you were. You stopped and everyone was looking at you.

“Alright Mr Muscle. I need help, come.” you said as you pointed at Chet. Chet didn’t believe it and could only watch as you started walking back to your car. Suddenly he came to his senses and as everyone looked at the other for answers, Chet had a grin on his face. “Don’t get excited, Muscles.” they heard you call back and everyone laughed except the man in question.

Everyone observed in silence as you got to the other side of the car opened the door and motioned for Chet. Chet got someone out and picked the person up. You started walking back to the bonfire and turned to look at Brooke.

“I will need a bucket.” without a question she stood up and ran to get one. Meanwhile Chet got back with an obviously very intoxicated Nora in his arms. “Sit her down.” you said and pulled a hairband out of your purse and pulled her hair back to a ponytail.

“What happened?” Ray asked.

“We went to a party, she had too much to drink. And there was this guy. I think they drugged her.”

“Why did you bring her here?” Montana asked. “She needs to go to the hospital!”

“No. I know what to do. Just watch her for a while. I need to phone someone.” Your eyes went from Montana to Brooke who just came back with the bucket. You thanked her and knelt down to Nora.

“If you need to puke, in this please, I don’t want to clean up after you. I need to call someone. Tory is at home, you are safe. You are at the camp with the others. Ray, Montana, Xavier, Trevor and Brooke are all here okay?” she gave you a weak nod, you knew she didn’t or barely understood you. You turned to the others and locked eyes with Xavier. “Please look after her. I will be short.” when he gave you a nod you stood and left to call you father.

To say that you were angry would be an understatement.

You left for that party in hopes, Nora will finally have the night of her life, instead after a toilet break you found her drugged and nearly getting raped. You quickly got out of there and dropped Tory off at her place.

You were angry, but your father was angrier. To have someone hurt his daughter’s best friend was an unforgivable sin to him.

“He’s about 6.2, has short blonde hair and is dressed in a green top with jeans, he’s still at the party if not, I know what his car looks like, he has a white Pontiac. I don’t care what happens to him, Dad. Just…”

“I know, Sweetheart. My men are already on the way. I will call you when it’s done. Tell Nora that I’m sorry and be strong Sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Dad. I wouldn’t have called you, but this son of a bitch needs to be taught a lesson or two.”

“Got it. Consider it done.”

“Thank you, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

When you put the phone back and turned around you nearly got a heart attack. Xavier was walking your way and since all you saw at first is a dark figure, you nearly dropped dead.

“Hey.” he called out.

“Hi. Thank you for looking out at Nora.”

“Yeah, she seems to be in a bad shape. Are you okay though?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine, thank you. I think I’ll take her home now.”

“Good idea.” the two of you walked back to the others while he was saying reassuring things to you and you told him what happened.

You felt a lot better after talking with him and you also felt closer to him now.

***

The next couple of days were pretty uneventful. You and Tory ran the restaurant while Nora was healing and trying to get over the trauma.

You didn’t talk with anyone from the camp either. Pretty boring days.

Until one night you were the one to close the place up. After you did, you walked out and saw a very familiar car pass by. It looked exactly like one of your father’s business partner’s car. The plate number also matched. You got curious and followed him.

You left your car behind when you saw him enter a small road and followed by foot. He went to the camp.

And your instincts were right. You found him trying to strangle Xavier while pointing a VHS at the guy. You got fed up with his shit as you heard Xavier plead.

You came out from behind the tree and kicked him off of Xavier. The man got really angry and was on his feet ready to kill whoever dared to kick him, but he instantly stopped as he saw you out of all people. Xavier was both confused and stunned.

“Mr Blake. I assume that what I’m seeing is only a misunderstanding and you were just asking for directions, right?” Xavier looked from you to Blake and noticed something in his eyes he never thought he will see, fear. But not just regular fear, genuine fear. Blake looked terrified of you.

“Miss Y/L/N…” Blake couldn’t find his words.

“I really hope that it is just a misunderstanding otherwise I might have to think that you lied to my father.”

“No no no. I was just talking to Mr Plympton over there.”

“Talking? And what does Mr Plympton says about that?” you looked at Xavier who was still on the ground mouth, agape in shock.

“I-“ he started but Blake cut him off.

“Please Miss Y/L/N, I just… You have to understand I need to earn money and-“

“And what? In order to do that you trick guys, I know your method. You promised to my father that you’ll stop once you get the loan from him. And yet here you are. Blackmailing another guy for what Mr Blake?” Xavier was now standing slightly behind you, taking your words in, he didn’t understand why Blake called you on a different name, but you seemed pissed.

“I-I-I’ll stop. Like I promised, Miss Y/L/N. I really will.”

“If you ever just think about him or any other to trick, I’ll make sure my father hears about it, Mr Blake. And we both know if one thing he hates more than something happening to me is liars. Right?”

“Yes, yes. You’re right Miss Y/L/N.”

“Now go back to whichever sewer you crawled out from. And forget his name.”

Without saying another word the man basically ran back to the backseat of his car. But you stopped him once again.

“HEY! Leave that here!” Blake understood and dropped the VHS on the ground hopped back into the car and sped off. “What a disgusting rat that man is.” you said to no one in particular. You went to pick the VHS up and got your lighter out. You handed both to Xavier. He just looked at you then at the items in your hand.

“What just happened?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you in the car, but I just can’t let you go back, so you are coming to my place for a little chat. Shall we?” he got the tape out of your hand and with the lighter he burnt the thing in a bin.

You waited in the car for him and when he was finally sitting next to you, you started the engine.

After a good five minutes of silence you began to talk.

“I bet you have like billions of questions. Let me start off with this, my father is, what you’d call a gangster a mob leader. He has connections all over the world. When I was born, his standards changed. After my mother’s death, he promised to always keep me safe. Imagine that, a teenager girl having money, all I had to do was call Dad, and I got it. Anything. So, after my rebellious years ended, I began to get interested in his business, I went to meetings with him and whatnot. Then Blake came in one day. He said he needed money for a movie that he was making so he loaned money from the father. About a week later, I found out just what kind of movie it was, and I wouldn’t have problems with it, you know, we are all different, but when I learnt that Blake emotionally pressured the guys, I just couldn’t leave it at that. So, Dad called him in. Blake promised he’d stop and it was only a one-time thing. It wasn’t, you are not the first nor the last he promised great roles and whatnot in exchange for a short movie. Don’t think that I’m judging you or anything. You are a victim, he entices you with his sweet words and then you find yourself in this.” Xavier just sat there watching you as you drove. So many things made sense now. From your expensive clothing to the red car even the phone call he overheard after Nora was drugged. He knew he should be scared and thankful but he just felt at peace.

“I-I don’t know what to say. Thank you, yeah thank you. But… why did you help me?”

“As I said, he disgusts me. The method, forcing guys into porn and then blackmailing them with it is just, angers me.”

“Okay. Okay. Why are we going to your place?”

“Well, I needed to lie about my last name for a reason. I just want to be sure you won’t tell to others. And since you are still in shock, you might spill the tea, so you are going to stay with me and tomorrow when you’ll be able to think clearly, I’ll drive you back.”

“Sounds reasonable. But really, Y/N, thank you.”

“You’re Welcome, Xavier.”

Shortly after, you arrived at your caravan and Xavier looked at it like he never seen one before. You lived about away from Camp Redwood, about a fifteen-minute drive, on a piece of land with a great view of the woods.

“You live in that?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you said you’re rich.”

“Well, my dad is. But don’t judge a book by its cover.” Xavier definitely should have. It might have looked simple from the outside, but on the inside the place had everything and it had a nice homey feel to it.

“Go take a shower if you want to.”

“Thanks.” Xavier got into the bathroom and stopped for a moment. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe that his knight in shining armour was you. He never thought that you the sassy bartender that he actually pretty liked would turn out to be a help to him. He felt like he could cry out of happiness, which he ended up doing. All the emotions came flowing into him, all that fear he felt when Blake called him and when he was in the car with him. All the relief when you made Blake look like a scared child as he ran with his tails between his legs.

It was certain. If he wasn’t in love with you before, now he truly was. From your appearance, your attitude, how hardworking you were and now, like an angel you came to his rescue and saved his ass. As he was taking a shower while slightly sobbing, you were outside, doing what you best at, calling Dad.

You explained the situation to him and he was pissed, just as you said the one thing he hated right after if someone messes with his only daughter is liars. When your phone call ended Xavier came out of the bathroom. He was obviously crying and it made your heartache.

“Awww.” you said as you stood up from the table and went to caress his check and get rid of his tears, but as soon as you touched his check with that gentle hand of yours, fresh tears rolled down from his eyes as he desperately hugged you.

“Thank you, Y/N. Really. I don’t even know how to properly thank you.”

“I really hope that those are happy tears, Xavier.” you said as you pulled back from the hug, but you were still holding each other. Your comment made him smile a bit. “See? Much better.”

“They are, happy tears.”

“Good. Now sit, I have some drinks in the fridge, drink something while I take a quick shower.”

At Xavier was left alone with his thoughts again as he sipped his coke and looked around the caravan. It had cassettes laying around, flowers and plants it even had a small TV and a very modern looking phone. The phone started to ring, alerting Xavier. He contemplated picking it up. Then Xavier looked at the clock, it was so late and yet someone was calling you? What if it’s an emergency? In the end he picked it up, thinking he’ll just say that you are in the shower and to call you back in a few minutes.

“Hi, Y/N is in the shower now, can you call her back a bit later?” the other end of the line was silent before a man started talking, a deep manly voice, it spent chills down Xavier’s spine.

“I assume that you are Mr Plympton, right? I’m Y/N’s father.”

“Right, sir. I-I would like to thank you, your daughter really saved me today.”

“Oh, I know. I’m actually in the car right now. You see, I thought I might need to have a short conversation with Blake. Would you like me to tell him something in your name?”

“No, thank you. I’d rather forget all about him.” Xavier felt his palm getting sweaty.

“Very well. You know, Mr Plympton, you are a great guy, My Sweetheart told me about you before, treat her well.” the last part of the sentence was so intense it left Xavier both speechless and breathless. Before he could reply, the phone call already ended and only the annoying beeping sound was heard.

“Did he scare you?” you were now out of the shower wearing your pj’s and standing in front of him. “Don’t let him scare you. He won’t hurt you.”

“O-okay.” you smiled reassuringly at him.

“So, are we sharing the bed or do you plan on sleeping on the floor?”

You shared the bed.

Xavier was never anxious around women before, especially not if he was in a bed with them. But with you, he was facing the other way while he felt your back against his, he just couldn’t sleep. He was relieved, yes, but what scared him more, admitting his feelings towards you or your father? Then you spoke up, he thought you were already asleep.

“You know, I always liked you. The day Margaret walked in with you guys, I just knew, I will have a thing for you. I feel like my old shy and anxious self when I’m with you. No, I feel like I can be myself. Everyone thought that I was just another rich kid, a bitch who got everything from Daddy, and don’t get me wrong, they were right, but what they never saw is that I never used that against anyone. Only against those who deserve it. But being titled from the first second… that’s why I used a fake name. To start fresh. I will always have my dad behind me, taking care of me, buying me stuff, but I felt like I could finally be me.” Xavier felt you turn around and he didn’t dare to move, your words were so sincere, he wanted you to continue, he wanted to know more about you.

“Are you awake?” he heard you ask and felt your hand against his back. He still didn’t move. “I think I might be in love with you. And it slightly hurts because I’m sure you don’t see me that way. I saw you with Montana at the lake, kissing and I saw you flirting with Brooke, I always wanted it to be me, selfish right? And then I saw Blake, my blood boiled. I know his technique and I immediately knew that he was using you for something.” you began to run your hand up and down his back, it got him relaxed. “I’ll take you back to the camp tomorrow, I don’t care anymore if you tell the others or not. Sleep well.” you gave one last stroke and pulled your hand back. You wanted to go to sleep, but he turned around. Your eyes locked with his and you weren’t sure what you saw in them. You felt shy for some reason. And when he started to speak you noticed just how close to you he was, you left his hot breath on your face, you felt his body heat, and you felt the vibrations that his deep voice caused as he spoke.

“I love you too. I don’t know how to express it well since I never felt like this before. But I’m pretty sure about my feelings, I love how passionate you are when something happens to your friends, you have an amazing smile and personality. I also have to admit that your father scares the living hell out of me. But that won’t stop me. Even if I have to face him, I’ll tell him that I love his daughter. I only flirted and kissed Montana to get you jealous, which apparently worked, so…yay. But you saved me. I used to be a drug addict, nearly got myself killed and Blake found me on a bench passed out with a needle in my arm. I guess you can say that he saved me. But he soon showed his true side. He promised to get me into real deals, movies, and commercials whatever, if I do that one thing for him. I ended up doing it, even though I’m not gay. I thought I escaped him but he came back to haunt me with it. I feel like such an idiot.” he looked away from your eyes and closed them, when he felt your hand on his cheek once again, he opened his eyes and looked into yours, you looked so sad yet so happy at the same time, just like how he felt.

“You are an idiot.” he let out a small laugh, “But you are my idiot.” when you said that all of his sadness disappeared. He began to lean closer to you and when you did the same, he placed his lips against yours. It was a small, slow yet passionate kiss. It was a kiss shared between two souls that finally found each other and became one.

***

You never slept better than in his arms. With your head on his chest listening to both his heartbeat and his breathing.

Both of your sleep were abruptly interrupted when your phone began to ring. You let out a loud groan and leant over the bed to pick it up. Xavier meanwhile moved to a new position in order to get back to dreamland.

“Yes?” he heard you say. He heard the voice on the other end of the line but obviously couldn’t make out what the person was saying. Suddenly he felt the air in the room change, it got so cold. He looked behind his back and saw you frozen in one place with your mouth agape.

“What?” he asked but you didn’t answer. “Baby, what is it?” he asked again. You held a finger up and talked to the person on the phone.

“I understand. We will be there.” you placed the phone back down.

“What happened?” he asked for the third time. When you looked at him, he felt it, something was wrong.

“They are all dead. It was Tory. She came to the bar thinking that Nora would be there, but she wasn’t so she went to the camp to look for her and…and… all she found were bodies. All of them are dead, Xavier. Everyone, Chet, Trevor, Montana, Brooke even Nora is…dead.” you couldn’t believe it, so many emotions rushed through you.

“What do you mean? Who would do such a thing?”

“The police said that it was Mr Jingles. But... we have to go. Leave I mean. Get this thing attached to the car and leave.”

“What? And leave without knowing what happened to my friends? No, I can’t.”

“Tell me one movie, scenario or whatever where the people left behind were safe, where they didn’t die when they went looking for a killer, Xavier. We need to leave. We go to my home. Dad will get this case solved. I’m not dying the day after I finally had courage confessing.” you stood up from the bed and began to rearrange stuff. Xavier thought it through. You did have a point. And he didn’t want to die either. “I know that running is for cowards and running back to my dad is just... looks bad, but I say fuck it. I rather be an alive coward than a dead ‘at-least-she-tried’.” you said while packing.

“Okay. We leave. I’m too pretty do die.” Xavier said in hopes of lifting your spirit, it was obvious to him that your survival instinct was better than his and that you still didn’t fully realize that Nora was dead, but he will be there when you finally will.

***

This is it, your love story, of how you met Xavier Plympton and ran back home with him. But at least the two of you were alive and together.

When the fact that your best friend was dead finally sank in, you mourned her for months. You went to the funeral with Xavier who held you while you cried and broke down.

The two of you never went back to Camp Redwood. You barely talked about it, only when you spoke about how you met. It was a bittersweet memory.

In the end, your father found out who the real killer was and that’s when both you and Xavier found peace again. Knowing that the murderer was behind closed bars and to be executed.

After five years of dating, Xavier asked you to marry him. After your father gave him the blessing the two of you had a small yet meaningful wedding. Well, as small as you can get with your father in the picture.

Xavier felt like he got the ending he truly deserved. With such a tough background, he ended up being a well-known actor with many roles, he ended up being the perfect husband to you and what he never thought he would achieve, Xavier Plympton became the perfect father for his three children.

Truly a happy ending to your love story.

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drawlfoy · 5 years ago

Text

Faux Diplomacy p.1

pairing: draco x femilvermornymugglebornslytherin(a mouthful i know)!reader

request: no, i’ve just always wanted to write this

warnings: explicit language, mentions of drinking, and most importantly, the reader has a moment where she thinks of inducing vomiting (not for a disorder but for a reason totally unrelated). if you’re sensitive to that then i suggest maybe skipping the part where she describes the slytherin boy dormitories. also, drink “spiking” (not date rape drugs though, just veritaserum)

summary: ilvermorny exchange fic during 6th year. reader is sorted into slytherin along with nearly all of the other exchange students. they realize they may be there for another reason than just for diplomacy when they discover that all of them are muggleborn. slow burn for draco...you’re supposed to hate him in the beginning.

a/n: i drafted this in the very beginning of summer without the intent of showing it to anyone, so this is a pretty large step in my writing journey. feel free to share your thoughts and feedback in the replies, i’m always here to hear them! more requests are coming soon and i’ll try and whip out another original idea once i slough through the requests i have right now. also: the best friend and the reader are going to be very affectionate, and i apologize if that’s not your thing. it’s just how i interact with my friends and i like to insert my favorite people in my stories, even when it isn’t very smooth. also if you’re wondering why i have so many fics based in 6th year it’s because i always found that to be the hottest year for draco lmao

music recs: i listened to a lot of lorde when i wrote this for some reason. i couldn’t tell you why but i did lol

word count: 2,038

“This is ridiculous.”

“What?”

I turned around to look at my roommate and best friend, Bella, who was sitting sprawled out on my bed and repeated the sentiment.

“This is ridiculous. My application status is still ‘review’, and everyone else already got their acceptance letter. Do you think it means they’re trying to find a nice way to reject me?”

Bella rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Jesus Christ Y/N, with your grades and qualifications, they’d be a fool to not let you go. I got in. Hell, even Peter got in!”

Her comment made me crack a smile. Peter was in our year, sure, but a whole idiot. He was probably the lowest ranked person in Y/I/H. His parents were super loaded, though.

“Plus,” Bella added, “Hogwarts doesn’t have much experience with muggle electronics. I hear they switched to electric acceptances for foreign matters for efficiency purposes since they were so sick of losing owls over the Atlantic. They’re a bunch of old geezers that might still be looking for the send button on your acceptance email.”

“Wait.” Y/N froze as she saw something pop up in her inbox from Hogwarts’ administration. “I think they sent me something.”

Suddenly, the hot August air was more stifling than ever. Y/N had an urge to get up and open her window, but she couldn’t leave her laptop. Her eyes were glued to the email.

“You gonna open it, or...”

“YES! Fine, I’ll do it.” Y/N’s hand clicked on the email and hid her face. Bella’s hands began prying her fingers away from her face.

“You’ve gotta see it, Y/N. You’ve gotta look!”

Y/N allowed her hands to drop, peering at the screen in front of her.

No way. No way.

It took her a minute to actually comprehend the words “Congratulations!” on the screen, but once she did, her entire body began vibrating with electricity.

“Oh my GOD!”

“We’re going to Hogwarts together!” Bella shrieked, jumping off Y/N’s bed and grabbing her. The two girls clung to each other while Bella spun them in circles until they fell on the bed with dizziness.

After the Hogwarts acceptance letter, Ilvermorny reached out to the students as well to detail their departure. The 16 students selected--a rather odd number, Y/N thought--were to meet on the Ilvermorny grounds at 6am on September 1st. Dumbledore himself had prepared 4 portkeys for the students and expected them to teleport to Hogwarts using them.

As far as Y/N was concerned, this day couldn’t come soon enough. It was time for her to get away from the loudness of America.

♥♥♥♥

The first thing Y/N saw was a very old witch standing in front of her small group of peers. She was wearing a traditional witch hat, something no one ever did back in America.

“Welcome, students.” Y/N was taken aback by just how delicate her voice was. She always forgot how diverse accents were in Europe. “I am Professor McGonagall. We are so pleased to have you joining us for this school year.”

The elegant old lady fiddled with her eyeglasses before she continued.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears as though there won’t be enough time to sort each and every one of you. We do have a rather large group of first years and would prefer to keep things moving along.”

Everyone groaned in unison. Who did this lady think she was, taking away their chances at being sorted by the infamous Sorting Hat?

“Thankfully,” she continued, “The head of the Slytherin house, Professor Snape, was gracious enough to take all of you in. It appears as though there are exactly 16 open beds in their dorm, so it works famously. I expect you all to behave yourselves and represent your country well so that we’ll consider taking exchange students next year. We have no qualms with sending students home who don’t follow the rules.”

Everyone nodded, nervously glancing around the group. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if people were going to be sent home, or if that was simply an empty threat.

“Well, come along then!”

McGonagall ushered the nervous group of witches and wizards across the courtyard and into a giant dining hall, much larger than the one Ilvermorny boasted.

As the students entered, the soft chatter that had filled the room faded away as the Hogwarts students examined the newcomers. Whispers replaced the chatter once they saw a magical display above them unfurl an american flag.

So much for getting away from that obnoxious American stereotype Y/N thought bitterly. What’s next, magical reenactments of the Vietnam War?

“Students,” McGonagall called. “Sit at the Slytherin table.”

A long but well kept fingernail motioned to the long table on the right side, filled with students wearing green.

“Good thing green looks great on both of us!” Bella whispered into Y/N’s ear. She giggled.

“Yellow and red wash me out. We got lucky.”

Unfortunately for the girls, everyone else had gotten to the table first, leaving only two open seats open. When they saw who was across from them, they began to understand why they were the least desirable seats.

One platinum haired boy and a dark haired girl occupied the seats, both wearing disgusted looks.

“Hello, I’m-” Y/N’s timid attempt at an introduction was cut short when the dark haired girl cut in.

“We know why you’re here.”

“Excuse me?” Bella looked ready to kill.

“She said,” the blond boy met Y/N’s eyes, “We know why you’re here.”

“Uh...yeah, the weather’s great this time of year.” Y/N tried to push for a laugh, but clearly it wasn’t coming.

“No, you idiot.” The girl raised one eyebrow. “Do you not know?”

“Well, whatever you think you know wasn’t deemed important enough to mention to US, so fuck off,” Bella answered.

“Jesus, Bella, we can at least be nice,” Y/N interjected. “Can you tell us? We probably already know, but sti-”

“No.” The blond boy looked slightly amused at our curiosity. “You’re right. It’s so important that of course you would know. Pansy and I are just playing with you. That’s all you mudbloods are good for, anyways.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. Blood purity discrimination? That shit was outlawed years ago in the US. If anyone even mentioned the term “muggleborn” in a less than positive light, they were blacklisted.

“What did you just call us?”

“Perhaps you need to get your ears checked,” the girl shot back. “You heard him.”

Y/N sucked in a breath. She’d woken up at 5 for this.

“So tell me, Pansy.” Y/N leaned over the table. “Was it an accident? Or were you just born with a pug face?”

The girl turned bright red but maintained her composure.

“I’m sick of talking to you,” she finally said.

♥♥♥♥

“Oh, bitch, you got her!” Bella was cackling to Y/N in the privacy of her dorm room. “You were like, ‘do tell me’, and the second those words left your lips, I was like, oh no, here it comes...”

They both ugly laughed on the bed together until their sides hurt.

“Blondie was kind of hot though,” Y/N admitted.

“Kind of. I guess, if you’re into racists.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not.” Y/N chucked a pillow at Bella/s head, just narrowly missing it and instead hitting her suitcase.

A knock on their door sounded, stopping their shenanigans. Bella crept up to open it and saw Laurel, another girl from their year, with a few other kids.

“The Slytherins are throwing a welcome party for us in the common room,” Lucy informed them. “The nice ones are, at least.”

“There’s nice Slytherins?” Bella asked sarcastically. “Whatever. We’re in. Give us a minute to get dressed.”

Lucy nodded, shutting the door. Y/N could hear their footsteps walk away from their room.

The two rushed to get out of the sad looking sweats they were planning to sleep in, Y/N opting for a skirt and a short sleeved shirt. She’d always been a fan of old-fashioned plaid.

♥♥♥♥

Y/N did not get drunk. It was the unspoken rule between her and Bella: one of them drinks, the other one sips and plays the mom friend. Y/N was always the mom, something she didn’t mind that much, but at the welcome party, she indulged in two cups of firewhiskey. She held her liquor well anyways, and it wasn’t like anyone had to drive.

A few hours had gone by when a Slytherin girl who introduced herself as Daphne Greengrass stood on a table and yelled, “Everyone, quiet!”

The music quieted a little and the chatter erased itself as the room waited on her words.

“In Slytherin tradition,” the Greengrass girl said, “We’re going to play a game of Truth or Dare. The Firewhiskey has been laced with Veritaserum, so if you’re choosing truth, beware! We’re playing around this table!”

With that, Daphne stepped down and all the Ilvermorny students stood frozen. Y/N couldn’t believe that the Slytherins spiked their drinks. She also couldn’t believe the fact that she accepted drinks from people she didn’t know, violating every bit of party safety rules her father had taught he. He’d be so disappointed.

Against her better judgement, Y/N allowed herself to be pulled to the table by a very intoxicated but very cheerful Bella. She managed a smile--she loved drunk Bella almost more than she loved normal Bella. She’d always heard that people became their true selves when they drank. If that was the case, Bella was the sunniest person to walk the earth.

Unfortunately for Y/N, she was sitting next to Daphne, who announced that the person to the right of her would spin the bottle to see who the question poser would be. That was Y/N.

She sighed, already deciding on asking for a dare. She wasn’t holding back any secrets, but she didn’t want to answer anything with a dumb or embarrassing detail of her life.Y/N spun the bottle, praying for it to land on Bella.

Nope.

When it stopped, she looked up to meet the eyes of the girl she insulted in the Dining Hall: Pansy.

“Well,” she drawled, a smirk forming on her face,”Truth? Or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Hm.”

Y/N could nearly see the gears in her head turning to find the cruelest dare she could. Finally, her eyes light up and her smirk deepened.

“You know who I don’t see here?”

“Who?”

“Draco,” she responded. Y/N noticed Daphne grimace next to her. “Go wake him up and get him to come out. Of course, he probably won’t come out. But you have to at least make a valiant effort.”

“Ok.” Y/N gulped. “Where is he?”

“I’m going to assume his room.” The Slytherins surrounding her chuckled. “But if you want specifics: last door on the right of the boy’s dormitories. Zabini will let you in. You can go now.”

Y/N stumbled off with the boy she assumed was Zabini. He opened the door for her, whispering the password under his breath and looking almost sorry for her. “Good luck.”

♥♥♥♥

The dormitories were exponentially cooler than the common room, and Y/N felt herself shiver at the sensation of the air on her bare skin. The stone walls and flooring made her feel as though she was in a dungeon, something she found to be an interesting choice for a house with so many wealthy students.

Y/N slowly crept towards the furthest door on the right, pondering her options. She could, of course, just come back and lie, saying he didn’t answer. Then she remembered the Veritaserum in her drink. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could get herself to throw it up, but her logical mind struck that idea down. The alcohol was already absorbed and she would have to explain to everyone why there was a pool of bile outside the door she was tasked to knock on.

There was something else that was nagging at her, though, a morbid curiosity regarding what someone like him could be bothering himself with on a Friday night. If he wasn’t partying, was he sleeping?

It simply didn’t add up.

Y/N knew what she had to do. She raised her hand to knock on the door.

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sorenmarie87 · 6 years ago

Text

Everyone has flaws

Summary: You’re woken up by a beautiful woman grinding on your morning wood. Wait, you don’t have a dick, so what in the hell happened?

Square Filled: Body Swap (AU, Fluff and Kink)

Pairing(s)/Character(s): John x Unnamed Female Character, Reader x Unnamed Female Character. Sam and Dean.

Word Count: 1,056

Warning(s): Body Swapping, Consensual grinding, Noncon (Witch takes what she wants), Language. body image issues (the reader).

A/N: This was written for @spnaubingo, @spnfluffbingo2019, and @spnkinkbingo. Also, I don’t own the photos used in my aesthetic. Unbeta’d - so all mistakes are my own. PLEASE BE OVER 18 IF YOU READ THIS FIC!! Also shout out to @fictionalabyss, she’s the one who gave me the original idea for this fic.. I might’ve changed a few details though.

You knew something was different with your body the minute you woke up.

Your eyes fluttered open but you were pinned in place by a gorgeous redhead. “Mornin’ John.” She ground herself down on your morning wood and you groaned. Why did that feel so good and how could you make her do it again? “How’s about we finish what we started last night?” She whispered into your ear as her hips moved slowly against your dick. “Come on baby, let me hear you.” She kissed down your jawline and sucked on that pulse point, the one that always made you moan like crazy and continued kissing her way down your collar bone. “There we go baby. We got two options here one, we can get each other off slow and steady just like this or two you can fuck me into the mattress. Well big boy, what’s it gonna be?”

With the way she was moving, it was hard to decide. “Make me cum like this doll.” John moved his hips in time with hers and she grinned wickedly. “If you don’t, I’ll punish you, and you don’t want that, now do you?”

“I’ve been a bad girl, John. What if I want you to punish me?”

“Well sweetheart, that depends on what you did.” He slowed his hip movements and she pouted. You groaned at the feeling of her on your dick. Wait a damn minute, I don’t have a dick… what in the hell? Who’s body am in?

“What if I told you I did a little spell and swapped your body with some girl with self esteem issues at the bar?”

John (well you in John’s body) pushed her off of your lap and she tumbled to the floor. “Change me back!”

“You don’t even know where your actual body is, and why would I want to change you back? There’s nothing in it for me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? ‘There’s nothing in it for you?’ You get to stay alive, how’s about that?.”

“If I change you back, that just means the real John Winchester will hunt me down, and kill me. I’m sorry but I’d rather have some fun with you first. I’ve heard stories about John Winchester and wanted to know if half of them were true…”

“I’m not a sex toy, you bitch!”

She chanted something in Latin as she crawled up the bed and settled herself back on your lap. She grabbed ahold of your dick, pumped it twice and eased herself down on it. “Now, you’re going to get me off, I’m going to get dressed and leave and when I know for sure that my life will be spared, I’ll change you back. Do we have a deal, Mr. Winchester?”

You tried bucking her off of you, but she wasn’t going anywhere. She grinned once again and put her hands on your chest. “Do whatever, it’s not like I have a choice in the matter.”

As soon as her walls clamped down on your dick, the door was kicked open. “You son of a bitch, you promised I could go free!”

“Darlin’ I never promised anything. You basically just raped me to get what you wanted.”

“Dad, are you - wait, if our dad is in your body, then who the hell are you?” Dean asked with his gun raised.

“My name’s Y/N. Under any other circumstance, I’d say it’s nice to meet you but I’ve never actually been dick deep into someone when meeting them for the first time.”

Sam awkwardly chuckled and you glared at the redhead on top of John’s body. “Why?”

“Why what?

“Why did you swap us?”

“I was just havin’ a little fun. Now don’t get your panties in a wad, I’ll change you back.”

“At what price?“

“Let me leave here alive.”

"No. Look lady, either you change them back or I shoot you. Those are your only options. We don’t have time for you to play around.”

“Fine…” Dean still had his gun aimed at her while she chanted. There was no way she was leaving here alive. The boys knew that, and even though she was still on top of John’s body, you knew she wasn’t surviving. You closed your eyes briefly and when you opened them back up, you knew everything was right again. “Everything is where it should be, can I leave now?”

“No.” You heard the gun go off and you watched as she slumped over onto John’s body. “Dad, you okay?”

“How do you want me to answer that? I’m pinned under a dead witch, how do you think I’m doin’?”

“Thought you'd happier now that you got laid, but you’re still grumpy as shit.”

“What part of ‘I’m pinned under a dead witch’ don’t you understand, Dean? Get your ass over here and help get her off of me!”

“Fine.”

“Do you - Am I - am I free to leave?” John nodded but you didn’t leave just yet. You were standing in the doorway when you realized that your car was still at the bar. “Is there, anyway one of you could give me a ride back to my car? I’m pretty sure she drove us back here last night.”

“Hey Y/N, it’s Y/N right?” You glanced over at John who was now sitting up in the bed with a sheet over his legs, and smiled gently. “Give me sometime to get my shit together, and I'll take you, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You looked at a stain on the floor as John moved from the bed. You made the mistake of turning around as he was pulling his boxer briefs on, and your face flushed. John quietly chuckled and pulled on his jeans.

“We spent a night in each others bodies but yet your blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush.”

“I just, I just wish I had as much confidence in my body as you do in yours.”

“Oh sweetheart, everyone has flaws. Everyone has something they don’t like about themselves. You just have to find someone who will make you see yourself the way they do.” He gently kissed your cheek and moved away to slip on his shirt. “You’re a beautiful girl Y/N, don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

Forever Tags - @lovetusk @coffee-obsessed-writer @justballoonfishthings @mirajanefairytailmage @kazosa @wings-of-a-raven @docharleythegeekqueen @clockworkmorningglory@lefthologramdeer @ellen-reincarnated1967 @holyfuckloueh @idreamofplaid @buckyscrystalqueen @ilovetaquitosmmmm@n3rdybird @super-fan-of-all-things @disneymarina @sandlee44@babykalika2001

#spnaubingo #spnfluffbingo #spnkinkbingo #John x Unnamed Female Character #Reader x Unnamed Female Character

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dreamchester67 · 6 years ago

Text

Alone- Chapter 1

Characters: Dean Winchester (mentioned), Sam Winchester, Reader, Castiel (mentioned), Jack Kline (mentioned)

Relationship: (past) Dean x reader, (future) Sam x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of a death, sexual themes (not into much detail in this part), alcohol abuse

Summary: The reader and Sam both have just lost the most important person in both of their lives: Dean. Now that they are alone in the bunker together, what may come about between them? How will the rest of Team Free Will react, and what happens if Dean once again comes back unexpectedly? Who will the reader choose?

Authors Note: Hey y’all! This one took me a bit longer to write than originally anticipated. I plan on having 2 or 3 total parts to this, so it’ll be a very mini series. I hope y'all enjoy it :) Feedback is always appreciated! This is unbeta’d, so any and all mistakes are on me. xoxo

“You don’t have to be alone, you know.”

The amount of times that you had heard that sentence through your life was almost uncanny. You heard it when your mother passed, then again when your father passed, then again when Bobby passed. You didn’t want to hear it anymore, especially now. You had just lost Dean on a messy wendigo hunt, and Sam wouldn’t get off of your case about venting your emotions. Yanno, something ‘healthy people’ do.

“Y/n, are you even listening to me?” Looking back over at Sam, you rub your bloodshot eyes and mutter a sorry. Why your eyes burned so much, you were unsure. Whether it was from crying, the smoke from the pyre, or the lack of sleep, it really didn’t matter. What mattered was the date you had with a bottle of Jack for the rest of the night back in your room. Realizing that Sam had been talking the entire time, you tune back in right as he says, “Dean wouldn’t want this for you.” Feeling your anger boil over, you stand up and face the younger Winchester with fire in your veins.

“Well Dean isn’t here anymore, is he?!”

Pausing at your words, Sam hangs his head in shame. “Y/n, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” as Sam takes in a deep breath, you realize the state of mind he has to be in at the moment; bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair, bloodied clothing, and alcohol laced breath all served to the point that you were just coming to understand: the man just lost his older brother. The man who raised him, who practically never left his side through the entirety of his life, was gone and not coming back.

“Oh, Sammy.” Walking over to where Sam was sitting, you leaned over and pulled his head to your stomach, him wrapping his arms around your waist. Both of you stayed there for what seemed to be an eternity, cradling each other, mourning the loss of someone you both loved dearly.

“He’s not coming back this time.”

“I know, Sammy.”

Pulling out of the embrace with a sigh, Sam looked up at you impossibly darker bloodshot eyes. With a defeated sigh, he stood and carried his bottle of whiskey into his room, closing the door behind him. This was going to be a long healing process.

It had been an entire week since you had lost Dean, and it wasn’t getting any easier. Cas popped in from time to time to check on you two, but it was mostly a ghost town within the bunker. You and Sam were the only ones there, and stayed within your respective rooms. You wanted today to be different, though. If you were going to mourn, then you wanted to do it together. Heading over to Sam’s room with a bottle of Jack, yo raped your knuckles on the door before poking your head in the room, smiling when Sam noticed you from his bed. “Got room for one more, big guy?”

Three hours later, here you were getting shit faced drunk with Sam in the library of the bunker, sharing your favorite stories you two had of Dean.

“Do you remember when Dean had the ghost sickness? The cat jumped out at him and he went nearly three feet in the air,” laughing at your past memories of your late boyfriend seemed to ease the pain for both of you, and this was the most you had smiled since even before Deans passing took place. Taking another swig of your drink, you took notice as to just how Sam’s hair fell around his neck, his now rosey cheeks, and the way he licked his lips after each drink…

Stop it, Y/n. Just the alcohol talking. Shaking your head at yourself, you tuned back into the story Sam was telling about Dean as a child. Something about how he got his first concussion from riding on the handlebars of a kids bike. Truth was, you began to pay more attention to how Sam’s adams apple bobbed as he took drinks, and the way his lips wrapped around the glass each…

“Y/n?”

Snapping out of your daze, you look at Sam and shake your head. “Sorry, alcohol must be getting to me. What were you saying?” His hazel eyes searched yours for a split second longer than what was necessary before he decided to continue. Clearing his throat, he began again. “I was just saying I was always jealous of your guys’s relationship,” he admitted. “Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for him, but there was always something that bothered me.”

Taking in what he has said, you tried to wrap your head around the confession before formulating a reply. “Maybe because you’ve always wanted the domestic lifestyle,” you suggested, searching his face for any clues as to if he agreed with your thought process or not.

“Maybe. But I always wanted that, the feeling only increased when you two started seeing each other.” Sam stared straight into his whiskey, which he was now swirling around. While the confession came across as genuine, it was clear that he felt guilty, as if Dean was still around to hear what he had just told you. Maybe it was Sam’s sudden bashfulness, or the alcohol, maybe even both, but something compelled you to stand and make your way to where Sam was sitting, taking a seat directly next to him. Looking the younger Winchester in the eye, you had to work up your nerve before making your next move.

“Kiss me, Sam.”

He didn’t waste a second; crashing his lips onto yours, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap, allowing you to straddle him and begin to explore his body. Running your hands over his shoulders, your fingers barely graced the tips of his hair. Lacing your fingers into the soft brown locks, you gave a slight tug which provoked a guttural sound that erupted from deep within his chest, and something awakened within both of you. Tilting your head back, Sam attacked your throat with nips and delicate kisses while you worked on unbuttoning his flannel. Just as you reached the bottom of the shirt, Sam grinded his hips up into yours, earning a gasp from you. Taking his chance, Sam kissed you deeply once again, trailing his fingertips to the button of your jeans, popping them open. Pulling back, he gave you a sideways smirk before standing, wrapping your legs around his waist, and carrying you back to his room.

A night of nothing but moans, begs, and the sound of skin slapping skin later, you awoke with a groan. Rolling to your side, you quickly became very aware of the fact that you were very naked. Closing your eyes, you rubbed your temples and cursed yourself for drinking to the point that you did. There isn’t enough advil in the world to even put a dent in this hangover. A sudden, deep snore made your eyes shoot open, and you began to wonder what kind of trouble you got yourself into last night. Shifting to your left, you peeked through the side of your eye to get an idea of who you ended up spending the night with. Okay, long torso, broad shoulders, shaggy brown hair- oh god.

Flashbacks of the night you two shared began to infiltrate your mind; tracing your fingers over his anti-possession tattoo, fingertips digging into your hips as you were lifted off the bed, the feel of his hair in between your fingers as he did unspeakable things to you with his tongue. Shivers ran down your spine as you relived the previous nights events, while a familiar heat pooled between your thighs.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Smiling to yourself, you glanced over to the wide eyed Winchester propped up next to you. “G’mornin, handsome.”

Taking his hand and trailing his fingertips up and down your arm, Sam cut straight to the chase that you were hoping to avoid for a little while longer, “Do you think we made a mistake?” A sudden intake of breath caused Sam’s eyes to meet yours, and for a split second you could see the guilt, disappointment, and fear hiding in the murky depths. Leading your hand towards his, now stagnant on your arm, you let out a sigh before answering.

“I think we did what we both needed to have happen.” Nodding in response, Sam sat forward and began to gather his clothes, still strung about from last night. As he stood, you took the time to admire the way his muscles contorted just under the skin; dragging your eyes down his back, you eyed red scratch marks at the base of his spine, a blush creeping up from the base of your neck, spilling into your cheeks. Pulling the sheets around your body, you followed Sam’s lead and began to search for the clothes that were scattered around the room. Letting out a huff when you were unable to find your bra, you decided to go to your room for an entirely new change of clothes. If this morning was any indication as to how things would be, then today was going to be unbearably awkward.

Heading down to the kitchen, the smell of waffles and bacon captivated your senses. Tip toeing into the doorway, you came across an array of food on the counter, Sam whistling while working with the food on the stove. Not wanting to interrupt, but also not wanting to get caught watching Sam, you moved up closer behind him, “something sure does smell good.” Looking over his shoulder and smiling at the compliment, he turned his attention back to the stove.

“Yeah, I figured neither of us has eaten a sincere meal since Dean…” Clearing his throat, he scraped the eggs that he was cooking before continuing, “yeah. Anythays, I thought it’d be nice to actually have something to eat.” Making his way to the table, he took a seat before glancing up at you and gesturing to the open chair next to him, “take a seat.” Complying, you sat and took in the arrangement in front of you: fruit, eggs, waffles, bacon, the works. You should be starving by now, you really hadn’t consumed much other than alcohol within the last week; something was on your mind though, and because of the thoughts plaguing your mind, you were only able to nibble.

A few minutes after you started scrolling through your phone, distracting your mind from any more intrusive thoughts, Sam stood and began to clear the dishes. “Here, Sam, let me.” When he dismissed your offer, you placed your hand on his wrist and insisted, “really. You made breakfast, it’s the least I can do.” Taking the dishes and placing them in the sink, you glance over to Sam who is now leaning against the counter. Rinsing the pans that were used and placing them into the dishwasher, you glance back at Sam once again. “So, I know we both have been going through our emotions, but have you happened t talk to Jack lately?”

Thankful for something to talk about, Sam hopped up on the counter before answering, “Yeah. he’s handling it relatively well,” kicking his feet out in front of him, he continued, “better than we have been taking it, at least.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, Sam, I don’t want things to change between us,” looking at the younger Winchester, there was a twinge of hopefulness in his eyes. The context of said hopefulness, you were unaware of; but you considered it a step in the right direction. Calculating his movements, Sam slid himself off of the counter, sauntering up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, grazing your earlobe with the tip of his nose.

“What if I want things to change?”

#angst #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn #dean winchester #dean x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #alone

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unto-myself-together · 6 years ago

Text

Of Stories and Songs: Ch 7

A Haunted Mansion fanfic (Disney).

Author notes: So now we have come full circle here. We've come back to the original short prompt story that I wrote way back when on Tumblr. Now, since then, I think I've gone over and given this scene very important (but very subtle) changes. And Solomon Gracey did end up changing from the original person I had him be. Also this chapter. Took. Forever. To complete. It doesn't help that it seems to be the longest so far. Eventually, I did have to just cut it at some point, because it just didn't seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. Lots more references to Haunted Mansion myth/lore and media. I think one of the most important is the sailor aspect of it. The original story idea the Imagineers had was to write sort of a pirate tale, which some say is the reason for the ship weather vane attached to the Disneyland mansion as well as a certain blocked off tunnel. And so, I did very much plan for/liked the idea putting a more sea-worthy, sailor-y aspect to the story. It's interesting to note that ships of about this time period (late 19th century) had both engines and auxiliary sails (in case the engines failed, mostly). It remains to be seen whether sailors in the late 19th century shipping industry had accents, but I thought that, perhaps, since this character has likely seen many sights and was practically raised off of the sea that he'd have some unique way of speaking. Speaking of which, though, I didn't quite realize that the song from Pirates of the Caribbean 4 was an actual song from way back in the 17th century (guesstimate). Nobody knows for sure how old it is, because like most folk tunes the origins are unclear. It was collected by a man in the late 19th century, and published in a book alongside other folk songs and sea shanties. He didn't create the song, simply collected it. Finally, I would like to take this time to dedicate this chapter to my friend, Majora.

@majora-the-trekking-hobbit

Reasoning is partially because of a...erm...particular character that shows up here. But also because of all the support you've given me and this story! Thank you for always reblogging, and thank you for always taking the time to listen to me and give me advice! I really appreciate it! Art references used: Staircase:http://www.doombuggies.com/secrets_conservatory.php https://themeparkuniversity.com/disney/disneys-haunted-mansion-man-spiderweb-real-hoax/ https://hauntedmansion.fandom.com/wiki/Endless_Staircase Hattie:https://www.usatoday.com/story/travel/2015/07/15/disneylands-hatbox-ghost-mystery-solved/30216909/ https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS720US720&biw=1293&bih=665&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=yAuDXI2SD-vK5gLxtLPoAw&q=haunted+mansion+hatbox+ghost&oq=haunted+mansion+hatbox+ghost&gs_l=img.3..0j0i5i30l2j0i24l2.43127.44878..44976...0.0..0.210.1061.6j3j1......1....1..gws-wiz-img.......0i8i30j0i30.9t6rb10BpQM#imgrc=zew4FFwUqtcCOM: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hatbox_Ghost Cape (because I needed extra help with how to fold it): https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS720US720&biw=1293&bih=665&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=GAyDXLGEDIfZ5gKeoZjgDQ&q=assassin%27s+creed+cape&oq=assassin%27s+creed+cape&gs_l=img.3..0j0i8i30l8j0i24.120121.124788..125000...0.0..0.93.1629.22......1....1..gws-wiz-img.....0..0i67.bP3kELME6yc#imgdii=XUa-qMHbTqdtkM:&imgrc=yAsMXH24fr3GUM: ~~~~ Trigger warnings: ghosts, death concepts/discussions, murder, suicide, abuse, blood, lots of scary stuff (horror), implied sexual abuse, cursing (damn and hell), drug abuse, domestic violence, attempted rape (never completed; in a later chapter).

~~~

Table of Contents:

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 ,

Chapter 6 , Chapter 7

~~~

~~~Ch. 7: The Fearsome Foursome~~~

~ My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold, There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold. -1891 collection, Real Sailor-Songs by John Ashton ~

~~~ ~~

“Good evening, Master Gracey.”

The Ghost Host politely responded.

“Don’t give me that. You know precisely that my evening cannot possibly be good with you banging about the house. Must you ruin my reading?” Karen shifted back; the floor beneath her creaked. Solomon caught sight of her cowering against the wall, and he stared at her dispassionately. “Who is this?” He scowled, and it made him look all the terrifying because it gave an impression that he held no sympathy for her. “A mortal? Damn it, man. How many times must I tell you to stop letting mortals inside?! Get her out of here, now!” “With or without her companion, who seems to have been…mislaid?”

The man spun round, away from her, and stared at the empty void, the source of the voice, and the air seemed to shift dangerously around him.

“You’ve lost track of one of them? You’ve done that on purpose, haven’t you?!” “Perish the thought. I’m sure they can be reacquired. I’ve heard some of the vases in the west end shattering. Perhaps it’s them lugging their…hmmm shaken physical presence through the halls….”

Everything fell into an uneasy, unsettling stillness. “The west end…vases…you mean the burial urns?” Somehow, the anger that seethed off of the man was palpable, much like a thick fog permeating the air. Only it was a weighted sensation and not a physical appearance. “The burial urns? Where my mother’s burial urn resides?”

She could swear she could feel a rumble coming from the house, as if the floorboards had responded to his words. Underneath her palms, the wood began to tremble. “Breaking the burial urns?! You..You! Breaking the west end vases! Oh I’ve no doubt those urns are breaking, but it isn’t the mortal breaking the urns, now is it?! You vile, disgusting twisted little demon!” The man spat, and if anger had been a liquid she had imagined that it would have come spilling from his mouth straight to the floorboards with the way he spoke. “Come now. I can’t imagine why you would care…”

The voice purred in a low tone. “It’s just a speck of dust. And after all…. You never were that well acquainted with her anyways…”

That was the wrong thing to say that was the wrong thing to say That was the wrong thing to say. She wanted to scream at the Ghost Host, but she was quite sure he wouldn’t listen because his voice sounded far too pleased with himself.

The shaking had abruptly gone silent. Solomon Gracey stumbled back a moment, before his clenched, shaking fist mimicked the tremors. And the rumbling began anew, only this time it was STRONGER. “Care to repeat that statement, sir?”

The various vases and objects that scattered the halls seemed to dance and jump; some of them even floated in midair. Every breath she took became almost painfully heavy, as it had seemed that the air had availed itself of logic and chose to be swept up in some invisible gathering vacuum. “Now, now. Think of all the priceless objects you yourself are on the verge of throwing.” Master Gracey did not appear swayed, and Karen wasn’t willing to stick around any longer. It was getting far too difficult to breath, and she wasn’t exactly sure she knew what was happening to the hallway. She lunged for the nearest door, practically tripping through it as it swung open. And instantly fell into darkness. Not just fell though; she rolled. The room before her apparently wasn’t flat or level at all, and the act of falling through the door caused her to tumble down, down down. Until she managed to catch hold of a piece of wood and cotton. Her legs were dangling, a frightful change in orientation that left her clinging to the wood and cotton by hands alone.

She could hear the door swing close, and a whispering echoed off the halls before the room began to brighten. Candelabras quite near to her up on a pedestal inexplicably came aflame, and she dared to look behind and below. Staircases. Staircases as far as the eye could see. Going up, going down, going sideways, going upside-down. Any which way you looked, with no rhyme or reason or even a contextual explanation for why there was a gigantic, chasm-like room full of staircases. Her eyes grew wide to see it, and grew wider still when she felt the lifesaving wood she clung begin to creak and give way. She was apparently on a staircase too, albeit a decrepit one that was torn off into a sheer drop. Her legs flailed as she struggled to get back up, but she could not swing them properly to hoist herself up the sides. Already, it took all of her strength just to hold on, and with each attempted swing she could hear the wood creaking and tearing further. “H-Help…” She weakly cried out towards the door. Why oh why did the door have to close? She looked all around for another staircase to jump onto, but none of them looked close enough to make it. The pressure of gravity and the weight it bore down on was numbing her hands. She again attempted to hoist herself up, but only managed to get the length of her arms to cling to the wood. A relief to her fingertips, but the muscles of her upper body still screamed at her to release. “Help! Help me!” She cried even louder, hoping to attract the attention of either of the two bickering ghosts. Or any ghost at all. But only the echoes of her own voice came back to haunt her. Were they just going to leave her? Did they care? Did they even notice she wasn’t in the hallway anymore? She was quite sure that the Ghost Host wouldn’t care, but that man, Solomon, too? The wood bent further underneath her, and the resulting lurch held a tone of finality that she was forced to acknowledge.

….. This was it, wasn’t it? This was how she died. She tried to keep her eyes from watering up as she thought about Michael. He was already dead, wasn’t he? If he survived that fall, he likely had to deal with a lot of the same stuff she did. It would be just like that Ghost Host to string her along on a thin thread of hope. She tried another swing to hoist herself up, but wood bent again in a dangerous direction and she was frightened to continue, even as her arms were getting exhausted. Her parents. Her parents didn’t even know she was here. They were off on vacation visiting relatives in New York and wouldn’t be back until the day after tomorrow. What would they do when they came back and she wasn’t home? Would they even know where to look for her? Tears streaming down her face, they fell off her chin to the deep chasm below. This was how she died, wasn’t it?

The tears were making her eyesight blurry. The door in front of her, out of reach, taunting her with safety, started to wiggle in her vision. Bright and murky to her tear smudged eyes. “Please help….” Her cry was even weaker now. The strain of holding up her own weight. Feet dangling below. The crackling of wood underneath her arms.

Crack. No. Nothing to lose now, she swung herself again. The wood bent once more. CRACK. Please! One tip of her foot managed to make contact with the top of the wood she clung to. She tried to maneuver it so that she could use it as a hook to get the rest of hers-- SNAP! The light of the candles moving further and further….away…. Tears falling upwards. Stomach dropping down. Arms wildly reaching around. Something. Anything. .... . …Nothing… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Falling Falling Falling. We all Fall down. A little teeny tiny speck. In a Giant Well. The girl fell faster than expected. Gravity is so funny, isn’t it? Just before her body struck the ground, a flash of light came. Funny, funny, Gravity. And the girl was held, suspended and unconscious. Her tiny mortal frame, still breathing, looked so small against the majesty of the never ending stairs. Here it is. You’ve hit rock bottom, child. And the flash of light coalesced to wrap around the cut of her figure.

Floating. Glowing. She lay there. Inches from the ground…. ….But it would not be the ground for long. For the light twisted her around; the orientation of the staircases was too lopsided. Indeed, she was not facing the floor at all. For she had fallen upwards. She had just avoided the fate of becoming a splat on the ceiling. Another flash of light, this time pulsating. With each rhythmic spurt, the light turned into the shape of a spider’s web. And the girl like a fly in its center.

Foolish mortals they say. Foolish mortals. Why am I here again? What was I doing? Foolish mortals. The sound of the sea. Gentle waves, gentle. I smell a rat. Wiggling up the stairs. No. Not a rat. A gentleman. Who is that? Good man. Very nice man. I like him. Oh, I like him. He can pass. Sheep and shepherds.

A man appeared. Or rather, a figure materialized. Out from the wind of the hallway, his head, then his body, then his arms. Bent over, he walked with a cane. Even in spite of the fact that his legs had yet to appear.

There was a crooked man. He walked with a crooked cane. But everybody loved him. Just and all the same. On his head was a top hat. In his ghostly smile, a gold tooth. A cane in one hand. And in the opposite, a box. He raised the box up like a lantern as he came to the chasm that was filled with the staircases. And he tapped his cane. Once. Twice. The floating mortal’s body jerked in mid-air, another flash of light scattering and breaking the glow that had held a tentative spider web pattern. The body fell a few feet to where he was, before stopping again in mid-air right before it hit the ground. The man leaned forward, as if to inspect the mortal’s face, before letting out a grumble. In a swoop of his cape, he turned to go back down the hall whence he came from. And the unconscious body of the mortal floated along behind him akin to being pulled by invisible balloon strings. Down, down the hall, the unconscious mortal in tow. ~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Babbling and gurgling as it trickled along; it was a delight to hear the river and give herself a reprieve from the nightmares of the house. That’s why she came here…That’s always why. Her voice was carried along with the sounds of the water, just as the leaves were swept up in the current. She sang low enough that any passerby would have to strain to listen in, but that likely wasn’t even necessary. The little open space among the density of the trees wasn’t something people were likely to look for to begin with. And her emerald green uniform would surely provide camouflage at any rate. Her voice was wordless. It was just tones, going from high to low in whatever fashion pleased her. And she had loosened her hair so that the blond locks hung around her face like a curtain protecting her from the outside world. The tears would come to fall behind them. She sung of the pains of the day. She sung of what she would have to face should she return. She sung to escape. A bit of peace, a bit of paradise, a bit of comfort, a bit of calm. It would not last forever. Singing her life away in that glade. But in that moment, she sang for herself, even if it was just to bemoan the inevitability that she would have to stop. “They’ll take yer offer, you know.” Her voice caught off in a startle, and she turned to see a man beside her. The weathered state of his skin suggested long hours working in the sun and made him look older, but there was a certain youthfulness about his eyes that suggested he was perhaps only a handful of years away from her own age. He smiled rather good-naturely and openly, even as his back was bent over in an uncomfortable state and he leaned heavily on the gnarled cane in his hand. “Is this spot taken?” He asked with humor, nodding to the very empty surroundings beside her, “Or would you wish me to leave you be?” “You….are more than welcome to it, sir. I cannot stop you.” “But you can say ‘no’, miss. And I’ll honor that and be off with myself. Though not before I compliment the owner of the very pretty voice that I happened to come upon while looking for a spot meself on the river…” He had a strange accent about him.

“You come here often, then, sir?” “Aye. To fish.” “You’re a fisherman?” “Used to be more than that. I was a sailor once. But I’m content to dabble in what fish I can sell now.” “What happened?” She asked, a glance towards his crooked back. “A storm we happened upon, and one of the riggings broke and snapped me back as I tried to secure our cargo. Cargo ended up securing me; right on the deck I was pinned. Neither my leg nor my back have ever been a right straight since.”

“That sounds so awful. I’m so sorry…” But he waved her apology away. “It’s all right. My ol’ Captain gives me a stipend now. For bravery and the loss of my good work, and on the account that I’m young. Can’t do much anymore, but the fishing helps. And I can still manage to go out on the water a bit whenever I get lonely for the open sea. The adventure of it.” His eyes glistened. “I may not be the richest in the world, but I count my stars every day that I’m alive. And I’m happy where I’m at, and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?” “Yes…” She agreed, solemnly going back to staring at the river. Before she realized he was still standing. “Oh! Won’t you sit? That must be painful.” “Now is that what you want, Miss? I ask again, because I am not one to intrude upon a lady if she means to have a private moment to herself. And I didn’t mean to disturb you if that’s really what you came out here for.” Her eyes snapped to his at this. His chocolate brown eyes softening as she did, and they proved that he was genuine in his statement. People usually didn’t ask her what she wanted. Raised as a servant all her life, kept in that house all her life, it wasn’t really a concept that she was used to. It was hard to maintain ‘privacy’ or any semblance of independence when you had to share a room with three other girls, and were at the beck and call of others. “I want...I want you to join me,” She said. ”Please. And, perhaps, tell me what you meant before. That they would accept my offer…who is ‘they’?” “The mermaids, of course,” He said, grinning at her as he carefully settled down with his good leg going first. “They’ll come to ya, lured by the singing.” “I thought they were only out on the ocean.” She smiled back at him. The thought of mermaids never crossed her mind. She wasn’t even sure if she believed in them, but the man’s smile was infectious. And his relaxed air about him as he spoke was addicting. “No no, miss. Sure, they love the open sea air better, but they’re just as likely to be spotted in the rivers. Anytime you see a glint of scaly tails that looks too big to be a fish…and beautiful hair that’s too impossible to belong to a human….That’s when you’ll know. Mermaids about in these waters.” “And they’ll come to me to eat me, right? I’ve heard stories about their appetites.” “Appetites they have in spades, true. But it’s for sailors like meself or pirates that they’re most brutal.” He patted his chest. “Don’t completely blame them none either; a right lot of us ain’t always the pleasant sort. But for the young ladies who sit so mournfully, they’ll come to you and say so sweetly ‘Why, what a lovely voice you have! And how sad you look! Will you tell us whatever is wrong, that we might fix it?’” Here she gave a smile both sad and amused, because he had clearly noticed her distress and thought to ask about it in a roundabout method with a little story. “I’m a servant in a household…” She paused, thinking to edit out too many details. He was a stranger. “The eldest son of the master has been making things…difficult for me. He asks for things I do not wish to give. And I cannot garner sympathy from the other servants because they all either lecture me or shun me. I feel alone.”

The man was silent. She looked over at him to see him pensively staring out into the water. The river bubbled along the banks where they sat. “Well,” He said, flashing her a kind smile. “I suppose the mermaids would say then ‘Come away come away with us! We’ll take you down to the depths of the sea, and none will be able to reach you!’” She laughed, a noise that was nearly unknown to her at that point. “But I would drown!” “Not so! The kiss of the mermaid would give you the lungs of a fish, and you could wander the depths at will! And they may do more than that, and grant upon you the chance to join among their immortal selves. To swim freely through the ocean, and have all the reefs as your personal boudoir, and to dance among the dolphins as they leap into the sky!” He accented this note with a hand waving stretching into the heavens. “And then…” he continued. “You needn’t ever come back. Or, if the thought fancies you, you could return and unleash torment upon the young man of your former master. He will never know peace after hearing the siren’s song of the mermaids!” As his tale grew more wild and fanciful, she couldn’t help but giggle along to it. It sounded like the sort of story of her girlhood dreams, all the fairytales she grew up with. And she couldn’t help herself but to continue playing along. “Oh but I couldn’t! If the lovely mermaids would have me, I would be far too busy making friends with the fish and the whales. And learning about all the ocean life. Or perhaps simply gazing upon the waves as they crash on the shore.” But her smile faltered, and the solemnity returned a bit. “Besides which…I don’t think I could stomach taking revenge. Even if he is a beastly man at times. I suppose that makes me weak willed, doesn’t it?” “Not at all. I think that shows a strength of character. Few others would even hesitate; don’t judge yourself by their standards.” He touched her very gently at the shoulder, so much so that she thought she imagined it at first. But when she went to turn, it was clear he meant to attract her attention. “Even if you were not to return for the sake of revenge,” He repeatedly tapped his chest with a single finger with a sheepish demeanor, “Won’t you take pity on this poor fisherman, and perhaps return to show him all the best spots to catch his favorite striped bass?” And she laughed again, this time more freely and warmly as he grinned from ear to ear. “Of course, of course sir! And you will never go a day without a full boat or a full stomach!” “Aha!” He cried, and he held his cane to the sky like he’d proudly pulled Excalibur itself from the waters, “And I shall be wealthy! Wealthy in fish, that is!” He laughed alongside her, the two of the chuckling more like school children than the young adults they were. As they sat, leaning on each other for support, by the banks of the river. “…My name is Emily…” she said, as she continued to lean on his shoulder, not caring at all for impropriety in that moment. “May I ask yours, sir?” “Roland is the name, miss.” He said, making no move to push her off nor to take advantage of it. “Although folks always call me ‘Rolly’…” “Rolly…” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything ached. Her head, her arms, her legs. Her vision was blurry, but it became clearer as she attempted to sit up and gaze her surroundings. The actual attempt at sitting up, however, failed. She flopped back onto whatever soft thing she awoke on, a new ache of pain accompanying her back. Whatever did she do to cause this? Where was she? She remembered a river. …..No. That wasn’t her. That was someone else. ….That was another memory. And a hazy one, at that; she knew enough to recognize Emily as the one crying, but the man remained a bigger part of a mystery. He seemed so eerily familiar, yet the image of his appearance could not stay in her attention and blurred out like the remnants of a recently forgotten dream. A more comforting dream than she was willing to admit; though she ached, she felt calm. Complete calm. At peace with herself. But her backtrack through her own memories brought with it a steady uneasiness. She remembered that she was in a mansion, but she couldn’t remember the last thing she…. The fall!

Karen shot up in place, newly wide eyed, hands grasping around for purchase. She grabbed more soft things, her brain finally starting to wake up enough to register that she was laying on an old, but clean looking, mattress. A mattress on top of an old brass bedframe, a bundle of blankets piled on top of her explaining the warmth. Now that those selfsame blankets were removed from her upper half, she got a sense of how truly freezing it was. The cold was turning the gears in her head. If there really was life after death, how did you know if you’ve already died? She frantically grabbed at her own wrist, and was rewarded with a strong but quickened pulse. The remnants of spider bites still layered over her hands. She painfully pinched one of them to the point where a tiny drop of blood oozed out. Those were the telltale signs…right? A sigh of relief left her lips, and settled down under the blankets for a moment. Her aching limbs and even her head were starting to feel a little bit better, as if the little bit of movement eased her body back into remembering how to work. She wondered what part of the house she was in. The room was slightly illuminated with a bluish-green glow. And all around her were piles of…the best way she could describe it was “junk”. There was junk everywhere. Old trunks, old books scattered about, chairs, wicker baskets, vases, tableware, small statues and figurines, model boats, and portrait frames without any portraits in them. Her chest heaved as she took in a deep breath as she nuzzled the pillow. There were no Ghost Hosts to pester her, no memories currently assailing her, no creepy statues chasing after her, no dark chasms full of staircases to fall into. The bed, even though it sadly was not her bed, brought with it a sense of complete peace. She could get used to this. There was a gentle scratching sound in the room. She had ignored it until now, but her thoughts had come full circle and began to wonder how she had gotten in this bed. Surely, someone had put her here. And that, perhaps, they were still in the room with her. The bed dipped and creaked as she slowly rose. Her body was mostly better, but her arms still hurt. The result, no doubt, of hanging on for dear life not too long ago. The chill in the air forced her to take one of the blankets and wrap it around herself like a cape before she made her way through a tentative path marked through the junk piles. In a different setting, back in Mr. Vance’s shop, she’d have loved nothing more than to go through all of these old things and admire them. Perhaps even wonder about their histories. But now she wondered if touching things was partially to blame for all the memories she’d been seeing. She wondered if she would not cause herself more grief than it was worth to trudge through mountains of books or a pile of…

….Boxes…. She stopped at the boxes. Unusually shaped boxes…like luggage. They must have had a specific purpose, since they all looked similar, but she didn’t know quite know enough about travel history to be able to place what they were for. But one of them… …looked just like the strange fishing tackle that Mr. Mortimer always carried. She heard shifting nearby, she was getting closer to the glow, and she looked around the corner to find… A man with no head. She stumbled back into boxes, partially tripping on the blanket. In spite of all the creepy things she’d seen so far, this was still a sight she hadn’t been expected. The headless body was clothed in what looked like a buttoned down sailor’s raincoat, with a high collar cape paired over it. An overly fancy top hat hovered in midair above the blank space where a head ought to be. And the whole being was glowing in dull blues and greens.

Her noisy retreat apparently caught the attention of the headless man, or it would be assumed to be the case, for he stopped wilting a stick of wood and straightened up. “Awake, are we?” The voice caused her to shriek and back away from the boxes she’d just stumbled into. There was a head in one of them, shining with such a strong, green light that the box itself may as well have been made of a see-through material. Perhaps it was. The head chuckled at her reaction, and the whole box toppled over to roll across the floor towards the body. Denying physics, the box and its contained head roll jumped as it reached its destination, the degree of spin it displayed was just enough so that the handle of the box easily snagged the waiting hand of the body. Box in hand now, the body took a few steps towards her, the head disappearing from the box only to reappear moments later atop the pair of shoulders. The ghost giving her an all too familiar gold toothed grin all the while. Now that the two were reunited, and she had a moment to fully look at him… “…Mr….Mortimer…?” “Aye, young’un.” She did a double take. Looking from his newly completed self, all green and bluish see through glow, to the box he held. She recognized it as the very same box he often used as fishing tackle. Her mouth agape, she took in his extremely skeletal, glow-y appearance. “What….you…you can’t be dead!” “Oh? Am I not?” He said, clearly amused as he made a show of examining his own arms. “We just talked to you this evening! You…You were alive just this evening!” “A lot can happen in a few hours, young’un.” He said, completely stoney-faced. “Did you…did you die since then? It wasn’t of old age was it? It can’t be. You don’t look more than 40—“ “Thank you kindly,” He said, this time with a smile and even greater amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Who killed you then?! What happened?! It was that Ghost Host, wasn’t it—“ He raised a hand to stop her. “Young’un, it was a joke. Believe you me, I’ve been dead since long before you were even born.” It took her a few seconds to process those words. “But…..but you were alive…” She said again, softly this time, as she stared off at nothing in particular. “Was I, young’un? Or did I just look alive?”

She attempted, again, to think this through. He still glowed with an unearthly light, and she realized she could count ribs underneath the sheen of the raincoat. He was like a skeleton. A talking, walking skeleton in clothing. “…I’m still dreaming, aren’t I? Or maybe I’m dead. I-I’m dead…I…I-I-I really fell to my death off that staircase, and now my body is just lying there, or maybe it’s just gone splat and there’s nothing left but a bunch of c-cracked bones and blood an-“ “--Young’un, you’re not-” He stepped forward, and she stumbled back. He raised his hand again, but this time it was a gesture of surrender. “It’s all right, young’un.” In spite of the skulled visage, she could still see traces of the Mr. Mortimer she knew. It was there in the way he now looked at her; full of concern and consideration. “It’s all right,” He said again, softer now, “You aren’t dead, and I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m no different than all the times you’ve seen me before. You just know a bit more about me, that’s all.” Again, the gears in her head tried to work themselves around this. All those moments she’d seen him in town. All the people he’d talked to. “You’re dead…All this….all this time…? The. The people. In town…” “Been doin’ this for decades now. Not always here, you see. Every forty years or so, I’ve had to go the town over to make sure no one got too suspicious that I hadn’t died off yet. Age myself here and there so I look like I’m gaining years like everyone else. I fancy I put on a right good show; no one ever questions whether that ol’ fisherman stumbling around is alive.” He gave her a winning grin. “Although I reckon it’s pretty common to assume anyone and everyone who can stumble around is alive, eh?” He said. Her mouth went dry as she looked back up at him. “All the…all the times I sat by you while you fishing at the river...a-and you would tell me stories…” His smile disappeared as he nodded solemnly. “Yes….I was dead all of those times, too.” Her head was spinning. She felt betrayed, but for reasons beyond her grasp or understanding. He had felt cold all those times she had been near him. Cold to the touch, cold in his presence, cold just by looking at him; those inexplicable feelings were beginning to make sense. And something else clicked. “…That was you in the memory…” “That was what now?” “You’re Rolly…Rolly Mortimer…Is that…? That has to be…Your full name. And you were by the river. Emily Slater,” She said, facing him fully, the anxiety replaced with a strange sort of excitement as she regained the energy to stand.

Flickers of emotion consumed his face, but they settled on furrowed concern. “Emily…How did you come by that name?” She shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been seeing strange things. Ever since I came here. I don’t know. They’re kinda like funny daydreams. And bits of info just sort of pop into my head all the time…” His concern wearied off into contemplation. “Daydreams, you say? And do they happen a lot whenever you happen to touch something?” She nodded glumly. “Especially this.” Her hand almost automatically went straight for it; the ring in her jacket pocket. She had to stop herself and overturn her jacket instead. Guilt tripped her a little as the ring tripped out onto the floor. “Sorry, I just. I just don’t want to-“ “Touch it. I know.” Whatever he was thinking, it was certainly emotional. The profound sense of sorrow in his eyes laid bare the reasons for his slow reluctance to set aside his box and pick the ring up. “Is it yours, Mr. Mortimer?” He did not say anything immediately, but turned the ring over in his hand admiring its every facet. “….No, it is not. It belonged to Emily’s mother, and it was the only thing she had left to remember either of her parents by.” He tenderly put the ring into a hidden compartment in one of the old dressers nearby. His gaze still entranced enough to stare at the dresser. “I will have to...I will have to try and return to Emily when I get the opportunity…” That peaked Karen’s interest…and she couldn’t understand why. It felt like an urge, much like all of the strange emotions and images that had been assaulting her up until this point. “Is Emily here? In this house?” Mr. Mortimer paused. “She…is present in the house, yes. But…” “….Is….there something wrong with her…?” Mr. Mortimer stood staring at the dresser he’d put the ring in. Silently, he was shaking his head. Shaking his head and going to fetch a gnarled old cane from nearby that held all the markings of being a wilting project itself. “It doesn’t matter much, young’un. We aren’t likely to meet her at this time of night, so you needn’t get your hopes up too much. Besides, she’s not…” A wince of sorrow. “…She isn’t quite able to have visitors. She doesn’t respond much to any of us who knew her in life, she’s not likely to respond to a stranger.” “Is she like the ghost that I met that was stuck in the wallpaper?” “…One of the Wanderers…” “Wanderers?” He grumbled. “Now see here, young’un. Unlike some people ‘round here, I don’t mind too much the questions. It’s only natural to be curious. But that don’t change the fact that you have no business being here in the first place.” He lifted his cane and waved it in the air alongside his scolding. Never hit her, never touched her, but the way it danced it was clear he was a little peeved about this. And, for her part, she felt a little guilty. “I did tell you, didn’t I? I warned you not to go off and follow Nell home! And just what did you do, hmm?” His cane settled down again and he gave her a hard stare. “B-but we didn’t! At least, not really…” She thought back to Michael, insisting they get out of the rain… that Nell said Tom Sawyer's Road was said to be a faster.... Wait. We.

Michael! “We indeed. I’ll take a gander and assume that both you and young Michael came in here together, am I correct?” Michael! Her face went hot as she grew very angry at herself. How did she forget about him? Why was her head all full of concerns about Emily and not Michael???

Again, an eerie sensation overtook her, and nausea waved up. It was like her own thoughts and feelings were slowly being replaced, one after the other.

“The floorboards.” Her voice was meek as she tried to clench her stomach against the nausea. “We were together, but that Ghost Host pulled him underneath the floorboards and I haven’t seen him since.” She looked over with fearful eyes, “I don’t..I don’t even know how long I’ve been here, how long I’ve been asleep up in this room. You don’t think he’s…” “Doubtful. That wretch has been tricking mortals into coming inside for ages now, but he doesn’t often kill them. I think he finds it part of the ‘entertainment’. But we ought to leave right away, before he comes looking for you. Especially if you have the ‘gift’. This place isn’t kind to amateur psychics; there are too many of us for it to be safe…” “Wait. What do you mean, ‘safe’? What will….what will happen to me if I stay and be, I don’t know, ‘un-safe’?”

He paused again, as if deciding whether or not to give an explanation. “You said you met a soul who had been stuck in the wallpaper, right?” “Yeah.” “Was there anything you found a bit odd about them?” She thought about it. “She had pale white eyes and no pupils. And she thought I was Emily. At least, at first she did. After she got a good look at me, her eyes started to look more normal…” When she looked back at Mr. Mortimer, he had cautious hope in his eyes. “She managed to see you, did she? See you as you really are…” “What does that mean?” “Poor souls like that, they all have stark white eyes. Like the pupils had right been stolen from them. They’re called Wanderers. Or Wandering Souls. Or the Lost. It’s all the same meaning. They don’t immediately recognize you for a mortal because oftentimes they can’t. Most of the time, they don’t even realize what year it is….or that they’re even dead. Stuck in the past, some might say, and certainly not by choice. And many of them have to relive the same old horrors of their life again…and again….and again…” “That’s….that’s horrible! Isn’t there any way to help them or something? Free them?” Mr. Mortimer shook his head. “None of us really know how to help them. We have suspicions…” And here he looked her over with sorrowful eyes. “…But those suspicions have been met with disagreements. And they don’t always come with permanent solutions either. Not even the Madame, as all-knowing as she seems to be, knows exactly what to do for them. Elsewise, I’d think we wouldn’t have any Wanderers at all.” He tapped the side of his head, next to his own eyes. “When they get their pupils back, it usually means they’re starting to see their surroundings as it is. And we’ve managed this a few times for some of them, but they often just lose them again. And again….and again....” Karen grew silent. “The reason I mention them…young’un. Is because. If you remain, untrained, in this house where there are so many of us souls…You’ll become Lost as well…” She felt her own eyes grow as wide as saucers. “I’ll be stuck in the wallpaper??!” Mr. Mortimer opened his mouth, but that quickly spiraled into laughter. “N-No…No…young’un. You…You still got a body...Bodies can’t go off and melt themselves into walls, ya know…” He settled down into a cough. “But it’s your mind you ought to be concerned about. If you keep on like this, having everyone’s feelings and thoughts going through your head, you’ll eventually start to think they’re yours. You’ll start to forget stuff about yourself and start to ‘remember’ stuff about some of the souls here. And with nearly a thousand of us…well…you’ll be right swallowed up like a boat capsizing out in a storm.” “And I’ll…be someone else? I’ll forget myself …forever?” He gave her a kind smile and shook his head. “No, not forever. Mortal psychics have an advantage here; you’ve got a body still. That alone can help anchor you to the present in ways that we can’t. Mortals don’t get Lost for long, but that may require that they’re removed from us souls so they can recover…” “But if I’m not! If I end up trapped here. A-and I get Lost…” “Now don’t you go and worry about that. There’s a whole crowd of us here in this one single house; someone would find you and let you out. It’d be impossible for you to go unnoticed.”

“If I’m found by someone nice, you mean…” Karen said bitterly, thinking back to the Ghost Host. “Most of us are a right sort. A lot of the nasty fellows are locked up nice and tight; ya shouldn’t come across any of those.” “But what about the Wanderers?” “Wanderers are a right fright to a mortal, I imagine, since it can be hard to understand why they do what they do. There off in their own little world; can be hard to figure out what they’re planning next and how to react. But they’re not scary on purpose. Not vicious.” He went to go and grab his box.

“And they’re mostly harmless.” He said, “In all the century I’ve been here, never known one of them to kill a mortal. And never known them to hurt one on purpose either. Accidental injuries we’ve had, often cause the mortal’s busy scrambling to get away, but never death. Which is about twenty less than what I can say of the Host.” “The Ghost Host killed twenty people?” Her mouth felt dry. “That I’m aware of. Won’t be surprised if he’s killed more and did off with the evidence.”

“But why do you—“ “Now young’un. We’ve got to get you home and find poor Michael. We can’t spend all night talking here.” Mr. Mortimer motioned for her to follow as he began to hobble his way out of the room, a cane in one hand and his box in the other. “You’re both gonna need to get home, and the sooner the better.” She willingly followed him into the dark hallway, still burning with questions, but just was desperate to find Michael. The unearthly glow he gave off lit the way, and illuminated floorboards full of dust and cobwebs. She was just about to question him some more when the door slammed shut behind her on its own and she visibly jumped some feet into the air. “Sorry.” He said, looking genuinely guilty. “I’m so used to being free to do that here that I clean forgot you’re probably not.” He just opened up a million other questions related to how ghosts manipulated physical objects, but as they began their trek down the hall she went with something she was most concerned about. “Why do you all let a murderer free like that to torment…erm….m-mortals? What happens if he decided to go into town??? You’ve been to town, so he should be able to leave too, right?”

“That fellow is only free on the account that he’s one of the four most powerful in the whole house. Otherwise, I tell you, Young’un, he’d be locked up just as much as the other malicious souls. But the Madame likes him free, and I can’t be damned to know what goes through that woman’s head sometimes.” His cane clacked against the floorboards with each swing. “And yes, he can go into town. But he doesn’t like to do so, and I can’t be damned to know what goes through his mind either.” The dark gloomy hallways looked a lot like all the ones she’d seen before; stretched out and going on for miles. Yet it was remarkable how much friendlier it felt walking beside someone she knew who had their own built in flashlight. Who was their own built in flashlight. “Who are the other four?” “The Fearsome Foursome.” He gave a snort, “There’s the Madame Leota; I believe I’ve mentioned her before. She’s was a powerful psychic in live, and an even more powerful one in death. That damnable wretch, the so-called ‘Ghost Host’. There’s also meself. And Mr. Solomon Gracey. Any one of us is a match for the other, or so they say.” “Then…then you could drive off the Ghost Host? I don’t have to deal with him anymore??” Safety. Real safety. And she felt so much relief, even just thinking of it. The Ghost Host not even being able to touch her. “Normally I could… And I would…”

He gave her a sideline look of stern disapproval. “And he is exactly the reason why I didn’t want either of you coming ‘round here…” She winced and gave a half smile as an apology. He continued walking. “…But I don’t think you have a know-how into how much effort it takes to go into town like I did all this afternoon and evening. In here, the Madame’s power helps with making us…you know.” He waved his cane hand up and down his form to draw attention to it.

“Look like something.” He said. “Out there, you’re left to figure yourself out. Put up a complicated illusion that gets people thinking you’ve got a body like them; solid and everything. Takes the wind out of you, even after all these years of practice. May not have a body anymore, but can still tire out; remember that, young’un. So we best be avoiding him, just in case.” As they reached the length of the hallway, he opened up an old door with a gargoyle statue framing the top of it. Even in the gloomy darkness, she could see a set of stairs going down. Giant spider webs stretched from one end of the stairway to the other, and her queasiness returned to see what looked like a pair of eyes staring back at her. The house was still watching.

#fanfiction #haunted mansion fanfiction #the haunted mansion fanfiction #fanfics #my fanfiction

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