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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months

Text

Finally Getting Help (prt 5)

Masterpost

It took a little convincing to get Jazz to come back with them, but she didn’t want to stay with Constantine because he ‘smelled like cigarettes and generational trauma’ and she couldn’t stay alone. So in the end she agreed to come back to Wayne manor with the promise that Tim would help walk her through the process of getting emancipated since he’d already done it before. Dick informed Agent A they’d be having another new person for dinner and asked Jazz if she had any allergies, which was also a no. Apparently the Fentons tended to be a very hearty family.

They took the jet back, dropping Jazz off at the manor before parking in the batcave and changing into civics as quickly as they could so they could go greet her. Before they could Alfred sent a video on the family group chat. The video started with Danny pacing in the foye, then the door opened and Jazz hesitantly let herself in only to be greeted by a battering ram of Brother hurtling towards her.

She managed to get her arms up in time to catch Danny with an Oof before they just clung to each other. Awww, why weren’t any of Dick’s siblings like that with him?! Something to bully them about later.

—----

“What happened?” Danny whispered against Jazz’s chest.

“The Justice League finally stepped up and dealt with it. Locked the portal, took away mom and dad and Vlad, I don’t know what will happen with any of them but it’s not our fault whatever it is. It’s not our responsibility or our problem, I’m going to focus on university and you’re going to focus on keeping yourself and the babies healthy and safe.” She said softly, feeling Danny wince.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the babies, I just didn’t know how too,” Danny said, and Jazz could feel how he tensed, expecting her to be angry with him.

“It’s okay little brother, I understand. That was a lot to process, I’m sure you would have told me soon,” She murmured and he nodded. “Danny, did he… did he rape you?” Jasmine forced herself to ask softly. She didn’t think so, but she just needed to know.

“No, he stole my DNA and tried to clone me. But it didn’t work and Danielle and the other clones were melting. I don’t know how many he tried but I can’t imagine he started in batches of ten. I could only save two, Daniella and one of the boys. It was awful. I don’t know how long they’ll need to stay inside me to fully develop but they can take all the time they need. I can feel them inside me, I can feel their love. I love them too, they’re my babies Jazz, I know I’m young but…”

“You’re going to be a great parent Danny,” Jazz promised softly, giving him a gentle squeeze. “And I’m going to be the best aunt and babysitter you could ask for.”

She didn’t realize he was crying until his laugh came out audibly wet. “I’m sure you will. Thank you Jazz.”

“No problem Danny. What about the Wayne’s, you trust them? You think you’ll be okay here? I’ll going to Gotham U so I’ll be close. I’d like to work at Arkham anyway.”

“Ya, they seem good, I’ll be fine here Jazz. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you little brother,” Jazz said softly and Danny laughed again, trying to wipe his face as subtly as he could before he pulled back and finally let go.

Alfred cleared his throat delicately to remind them he was still there, though Jazz was glad he hadn’t interrupted their moment. “Dinner is ready when you are Master Danny, Miss Jazz,” he said with a nod and disappeared back down the hall towards the dining room.

“Well I’m starving, I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast!” Jazz said as she started to steer them both after Alfred.

“I’m pretty much always hungry,” Danny admitted with a chuckle. “The little ones take a lot of energy and I need to replace it somehow I goes,” He said touching his stomach in a way she now realized he’d been doing a lot. How had she missed that?

“Well you eat as much as you need to, and any cravings too. They probably have nutrients you and the baby need. You should see a doctor too. I know you probably went to see Frostbite already but you’re still half human and if they’re cloned from you so are the babies. Ask Bruce about a doctor that you can trust.”

“I will, I promise. You’re right, I really do want the babies to be okay and with what you said about the Justice League doing their job I have a feeling my existence won’t be illegal for much longer.” Walking into the dining room just in time for the family to overhear the last of that conversation.

“Definitely not,” Bruce said firmly. “I know for a fact Martian Manhunter is absolutely furious hearing they did something like this to another sentient species just because they weren’t human.”

“You know Martian Manhunter!?” Danny said with literal stars in his eyes.

“Oh here we go,” Jazz said with fond exasperation.

“Yes?” Bruce said, he hadn’t meant it like a question but he was just surprised, and a little worried, there was no way Danny would be prejudiced right?

“Oh my god can I meet him?! He’s been my favourite hero for ever! He’s from SPACE! I love space! I want to know everything he knows about space, and about Mars! I’ve never been to space! Well I’ve flown to the moon a couple of times but I couldn’t go further and be back in time for school.”

He had started floating off the ground as he enthused about space, with fond exasperation Jazz grabbed the back of Danny’s shirt and tugged him back down into a seat at the dining room table. It was like Peter Pan with the joy lifting him up, and his excitement was both adorable and infectious. It was so good to see him happy.

While he was talking food had been being passed around, and Damian, who was sitting on Danny’s other side from Jazz, had been heaping his plate while the older boy was distracted. It was sweet to see him being… caring to another person, he was even putting some meat on Danny’s plate with an odd stubborn set to his jaw. He almost looked aggressive but that was really just his determined face. Damian had accepted Danny in record time, which was a little surprising but it also made sense, they all knew Damian really loved caring for people, and children, and with Danny carrying babies no doubt Damian was already staking his claim on the role of favoured uncle.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bruce promised with a little smile. He was sure J’onn would be happy to meet Danny so it wouldn’t actually be hard.

“Thank you!” Danny cheered, only Jazz’s grip on his shirt keeping him from leaping back into the air.

“Eat,” Damian reminded, shoving a fork into Danny’s open hand. “Pennyworth says you were too worried to eat much at lunch and you need the nutrients!”

“Aww thank you ghostling,” Danny cooed, roughling Damian’s hair who scowled and ducked away, but didn’t lash out At All! Huh apparently pregnancy was a shield against Damian’s aggression.

Danny did start to eat though, and to keep him on track the family started talking with each other. It seemed to make him more comfortable, if things were quiet he felt the need to fill the space instead of filling his mouth. It was honestly sort of nice, even Damian shared a bit more than he usually would have about school, and about his art, then started telling Danny in particular about his animals. Danny hadn’t met them yet after all and he needed to know everything! Which ones were friendly, how to appropriately handle any of them, what treats they could have.

The way Danny lit up and started questioning Damian about his animals was honestly a little startling, but it couldn’t be more clear that he was genuinely enthusiastic and Damian was preening. Rarely did he get such an attentive listening ear when talking about his pets, especially since everyone who had been in the family for a while had heard similar rants so many times they’d started to tune them out.

It was a testament to Damian’s self control that he insisted Danny finish his dinner before dragging him away from the table to go show him all the various animals he had collected over the years. Danny laughed as Damian tugged on him and waved back at the family, joking about being kidnapped again (which, worrying) but he didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s good to see someone with such a healthy and well supported obsession,” Jazz said with a little smile, watching after her little brother and Damian rush off. “Oh!” She said, snapping her fingers, “I should explain all that for you! If you’re going to take care of Danny you’ll need a crash course in Ghosts and Liminality. I uhh, I have a powerpoint?” She said, looking embarrassed and hopeful as she pulled a USB out of her pocket.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Miss. I’ll set up the projector in the family room,” Alfred said as he whisked the last of the dishes away.

“Oh! Thank you Alfred. Can I help at all?” Jasmine asked, already getting up from the table so she could follow.

“Nonsense, you’re a guest and you had a very long day already. I’ll set it up, and then fix a room for you next Master Danny’s for tonight,” Alfred said briskly, shooing her back into the dining room room with the family.

She looked like she was about to argue but she thought better of it. “Alfred is really the one in charge around here and we all know it,” Dick commented to her with a little smile. “No use arguing with him, and he usually knows best anyway.”

“Well, alright if you say so,” Jazz said with a little smile and tension slowly eased from her shoulders. When was the last time she got to relax? Having to worry about her brother and no one really taking care of the, how long had she been googling “how to stitch up a wound’, ‘how to help a 14 year old with ADHD study’, and various other things to try and care for a boy only two years younger than her.

“So I know you mentioned to Nightwing that you wanted to go to Gotham U? I don’t know how your grades are,” (a lie, they knew she was a genius and her grades were excellent), “But the Wayne family sponsors many scholarships and if you don’t qualify for any of those we would be happy to just pay for your schooling. What would you like to study?” Bruce asked

“I want to study psychology!” Jazz said, lighting up instantly. “That’s what I’ve wanted to study since I was seven. I want to be a psychologist, and I’d like to intern at Arkham. I know it’s a dangerous place, but I’m tougher than I look and I have Danny on speed dial so I’ll be fine.”

Well at least she had thought about the danger, and tougher then she looked meant something because she already looked plenty touch. “Well, I know Arkham can always use good doctors,” Bruce chuckled. “Just try not to become the next Harley Quinn,” He said it like a joke but he did mean it, the last thing Gotham needed was another evil genius.

“Don’t worry, she lacked grounding connections due to her upbringing. I’ll have Danny, and his babies, and I’ll make friends outside of the hospital. As long as nothing happens to Danny I’m sure I’ll be fine, just like as long as nothing happens to me, or the other people he loves, Danny will be fine.”

It sounded like a warning, and it probably was, but they already knew that. Zatana had warned them that Danny could be dangerous. He would need grounding connections, but everyone did, and the Waynes already knew they were going to be family. On their own any of the Bat clan knew they could go off the deep end, a lot of them had even seen the futures with evil versions of themselves but with the other to care for and about, it kept them on the right track… at least mostly.

#damian wayne #danny phantom #dc x dp #fanfiction #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Zatana #cassandra cain #finally getting help au #danny is pregnant au #trans!danny #mama danny #jazz fenton #alfred pennyworth #tw sa mention

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spencereidluver · 5 months

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D is for Diana

summary: you overhear spencer calling his mother and telling her about you. how hes finally found someone like him and who can understand him

word count: 675

warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing

It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.

“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him.

“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.

You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”

That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.”

Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.

_____

With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.

As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.

“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”

There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.

Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”

Work? The girl he liked was at work?

“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”

Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season.

You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.

You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it.

You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.

next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?

a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them, and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definantly my favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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ranhaitanisgf · 3 months

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Helloo!!! could you write a oneshot about ran dating fem!reader and she is like a total good girl i mean like good grades, a teachers pet and always listents to her parents.

Hope you have a good day you are one of my favourite writers<3<3

little miss rule follower

synopsis: moments w/ ran dating his fem!reader who is a rule follower

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ hiii thank you for requesting!! :3 +thank you for the message you are so sweet !! im so glad you enjoy my writings :D i wanted to include a lot of diff moments w this idea, so i did a little collection of mini oneshots, i hope thats alright ! i hope you all have an amazing and gorgeous and fabulous day & enjoy !! xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ ran haitani x fem!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 1.8k+

masterlist

“y’know, it would’ve been a lot faster if i’d just driven you home, right?” ran suddenly asked, his voice laced with playfulness. “is it just that you want to spend more time with me~?”

“hm? you know i’m not going to show up at home on the back of a motorbike, ran.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, jokingly trying to pull your hand from his. he frowned at the action, lacing your fingers together and keeping your hand in a firmer grip.

“you don’t want to be close to me? you don’t want to be able to hold me all you want? maybe even feel my abs-?”

“no.”

“...ouch. that one really hurt, sweets.” you giggled at his crestfallen expression, finding it rather cute as he pouted, side eyeing you to see your reaction. his jaw dropped dramatically when he saw your face. “you’re laughing?! wow, this really is a cruel world!”

“yeah yeah, the world is sooo evil to you, right?” you teased, your sarcasm evident as you laughed at him.

“yes, it really is!” he exclaimed, letting go of your hand and suddenly wrapping his long arms around your shoulders, putting his full weight on you. “(y/n), you understand, right?!”

“gah! r-ran! get offa me, you’re so heavy!!” you groaned, struggling to hold the both of you up at the same time. “i was joking!! of course i want to…ahh, of course i want to be close with you!!” as soon as those words came out of your mouth, he got off of you, smirking at you with a pleased look in his violet eyes.

“that’s all i wanted to hear~” he stated, continuing your walk home as if he hadn’t been laying all his weight on you two seconds ago. all you could do was roll your eyes at him, but your smile was still on your face as the two of you continued walking, ran’s hand finding yours again and lacing your fingers together.

“also…” you suddenly spoke up, “i know it takes longer to get home this way…but i get to spend more time with you…” you trailed off, feeling a bit shy about what you had just admitted. “i mean, i don’t want to be greedy or anything, but it’s nice that we can spend this time just the two of us, since you’re usually pretty busy with your…stuff, and i’m busy with school...”

when you looked to ran after you finished talking, you were surprised to see the soft smile that was across his lips, his eyes looking at you as if you were the only person on the planet.

“you can be as greedy as you want, (y/n). hell, i’m probably more greedy than you’ll ever be in your whole lifetime.” he squeezed your hand a bit, pulling you a bit closer to his side as you two kept walking. “if you tell me you want more of my time, i’ll drop anything and everything for you. so, just tell me.”

“...okay then.” you answered warmly, smiling at him. “also, walk a little slower. your strides are so long it’s hard to keep up with you.”

“hm? i’m already slowing down for you.”

“yeah, well, walk slower.”

“oho, you were serious about wanting to spend more time with me, huh? no problem then, doll~”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“c’monnn, you know nothing would happen to you, right? i wouldn’t ever let anybody hurt you, (y/n).”

“i’m not sneaking out to go out with you, ran! we have school tomorrow! why can’t we just do something after school?” you asked, already knowing what ran’s response was going to be.

“that’s no fun!”

“ohh, so you don’t have fun with me when we go out during the day? wooow, i see how it is, haitani.” you answered, making your voice seem upset. ran was always teasing you, so you could do the same every once in a while, right?

“hey, you know that’s not what i meant.”

“pff, ‘m joking.” you relented, laughing a bit at the sigh you heard from the speaker on your phone. “sorryyy, forgive me please~?”

“that was a mean little trick, but i’ll forgive you ‘cause you asked so nicely. you seriously won’t even consider it though?”

“no! i love you ran, but i also enjoy not being in trouble and i enjoy not breaking the rules. i know you’re not like that, which is fine, but you’ll just have to get over the fact that your girlfriend is unfortunately a stick in the mud.”

“well, i prefer to use the term ‘good girl’ ‘cause it’s cuter, but it’s okay, i can let it slide. can we go out after school, then?”

“that depends…are you actually going to show up to classes tomorrow?”

“hey, that hurts! i’ve been showing up to school a lot more lately!”

“and then all you do is pass me notes instead of taking notes.”

“in my defense, you just said show up, not to actually do anything.”

“please?”

“...fine, but you’re riding on my motorbike when we go out.”

“as long as you don’t drive me to my house, that’s fine i guess…”

“don’t worry, you can hold onto me as tight as you want~”

“h-hey!!”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

you look so beautiful today ♡ can’t wait to see you after school~

you immediately folded up the piece of paper, shifting your notebook to slip it underneath so that nobody could see it. you could already feel ran’s gaze on you, confirming it when you peeked over and made eye contact with his lazy violet eyes, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile.

you looked back to your teacher in the front of the classroom who was droning on and clearly not paying attention, so you decided it was okay to not pay attention for a little longer. you looked back at ran, who was now making a little finger heart at you and mouthing something.

“i…love…you.”

your heart skipped a beat and you could feel your cheeks flushing, which only made ran chuckle a bit as you continued with paying attention to the lesson, (he was satisfied knowing that he had successfully distracted you).

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“(l/n), can you make copies of this printout for tomorrow’s class?”

“sure!” you chirped, taking the handout from your teacher and glancing over it. “i’ll leave them on your desk when i come back!”

“thanks, i appreciate it.” you hummed in acknowledgment before leaving the classroom, making your way down to the printer room where the copier was.

“where’re you goin’~?” the sudden voice in your ear made you jump, though you didn’t do anything more drastic since you recognized it almost immediately, your mind suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be going out with ran right now.

“ran! ahh, i’m so sorry, just let me do this and then we can go?” he joined you at your side, looking into your pleading eyes for a second before sighing, a bit of a frown on his lips.

“fiiine, but let’s make it quick. i found a sweets place i think you’d like.” you raised a brow when he continued to follow you to the printer room and he raised a brow back, wondering why you were confused. “you thought i was just gonna leave?”

“i mean, yeah…this won’t take that long and it’s kinda boring.”

“sure, but i’m with you, so it doesn’t really matter to me either way.” he responded casually, opening the door to the printer room now that the two of you had arrived.

“you’re such an idiot, but you’re cute i guess.” you murmured, unsure of how to respond to his words.

“here’s the part where i get to say, ‘but i’m your idiot’~” you only rolled your eyes, opening the top of the copier and laying the worksheet down flat and closing it. you could feel ran’s presence behind you getting closer, so you weren’t surprised when he rested his head on your shoulder, watching your movements as you input the number of copies to make.

as the copier began to print out the copies, ran slid his arms around your waist, holding you firmly against his frame. there wasn’t anybody else in the room nor any windows, but you were still a bit anxious that somebody was going to come in and get the wrong idea.

“ran, someone could walk in.”

“what? i’m not even doing anything.” he teased, pressing kisses on your shoulder.

“this-! this is something! it’s like super pda!”

“it’s not like we’re having sex-”

“okay, stop!! forget i even said anything!!” you interrupted, wiggling out of his embrace to open the top of the copier, grabbing the worksheet you had put there and putting it on top of the stack of copies. “i’m almost done here, so go wait for me outside and i’ll be out in five minutes. bye!”

before ran could say anything to response you had already sped out of the room, leaving him there chuckling a bit to himself.

how cute.

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“i’m actually not so sure about this anymore.”

“hm? are you scared?” ran asked. you had thought that it would be worth it to agree to go on his motorbike if he came to class today, but now…you weren’t so sure.

“are you sure this is safe? there aren't even any seatbelts…!”

“you don’t trust me, doll?”

“it’s not you i’m worried about!” you exclaimed, feeling a bit panicked. “what if there’s someone else who’s driving drunk and they hit you! a motorbike versus a car, the car would definitely win! how can you feel so confident riding this thing all the time?! what if something happens to you-?!”

“hey.” ran suddenly said, taking two long strides to come face to face with you. “it’s okay.” he murmured, cupping your face and carefully smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “nothing has ever happened because i’m always careful. i’m always thinking of you, (y/n). i would never do anything that would threaten my own safety because i know how you would feel if something happened. okay?”

“...you’re not lying?”

“could never lie to you.”

“...okay.”

“how ‘bout we go get some cake for you, hm?” you nodded, wiping away the tears you hadn’t known you’d shed and feeling a bit ashamed at your sudden outburst over seemingly nothing.

“‘m sorry.”

“don’t be. i probably give you every reason to worry, so you can let it all out.”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“you feelin’ better now?” ran asked, an amused smile on his face as he watched you absolutely devour the slice of cake in front of you. you tried to respond but couldn’t, your cheeks full of cake. ran made a motion that told you to finish before speaking, giving you a few moments to finish chewing.

“yes! sweets fix everything!!” you declared, a big grin on your face. “see, if we had gone out at night this place wouldn’t be open!! isn’t this so much better?”

“mm, doesn’t really matter to me. as long as you keep smiling like that, pretty~” you coughed at his sudden flirty words, accepting the cup of juice ran offered you and chugging it to get the cake that was stuck in your throat down.

“s-sorry…”

“hah, it’s cute how much my words affect you.”

“shut up.”

“will do~”

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arieslost · 2 months

Text

sky full of stars | ln4

summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.

word count: 3,615

warnings: drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

2021

You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.

But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.

Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.

You needed a closer look.

So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.

When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.

“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.

You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.

You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.

“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”

He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”

That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.

Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”

At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.

“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.

The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.

2022

You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.

He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.

“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”

“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”

You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.

Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.

It was working.

Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.

“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.

“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”

You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.

“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”

He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.

“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.

“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”

Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.

You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.

“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.

“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

2023

You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.

Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.

“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.

“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”

Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.

At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.

“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.

“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.

“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.

“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.

He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.

2024

You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.

You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.

“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.

“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”

“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.

You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.

You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.

So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.

“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.

“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.

“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”

He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?

He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.

“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.

You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”

Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.

Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.

You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”

Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”

“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”

“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.

“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.

It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.

“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”

You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.

“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”

He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”

The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.

“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.

“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”

note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee

#full fic #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 month

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Picnic on the Beach

virgin!luke x reader

A/N: feel free to chat with me in the asks about characters even if requests are closed!

WARNINGS: SMUT!!, cockwarming, sub luke... until he's not

WORD COUNT: 816 words

Luke is a virgin and he so desperately doesn’t want you to know it. You’re so experienced and confident, while he’s confident in everything he does, except for talking to you. At least he can comfort himself with the fact that you have every guy at camp drooling over you but still chose him.

“You’re liking it then?” He asks as you take a bite of a chocolate covered strawberry, the drip of juice running down your chin making him gulp.

“Of course I do! What girl doesn’t like a picnic by the beach?” You ask him back with a giggle. It isn’t at all unnoticed by you how secluded this part of the beach is. You think that he must have chosen intentionally… you have been dating for a while now.

“I just wanted to make sure it was the perfect day.” He says, wiping the drip of juice from your chin with his thumb. It’s now your turn to be flustered.

“Are you trying to get lucky, Castellan?” Your wording makes him frown.

“A girl like you isn’t just for ‘getting lucky’. I want to give all my love to you.”

He leans in with renewed courage and you feel his lips press against your neck. He may be a virgin but he’s perceptive. He knows what his girl likes.

“Mmm that feels nice.” You whine out, one hand moving slowly up his thigh. He inhales sharply when he feels you start to palm him through his jeans. “Is that okay?” You ask due to the way he tenses up.

“Y-Yeah… sorry. I’m just uh focusing.” He attempts to explain, trying not to cum instantly when he notices you biting your lip at the sight of the rising tent in his trousers.

“Don’t be sorry.” You say sweetly, taking your time to give him a lingering kiss on the lips.

“You’re just so beautiful. I’d never want to disappoint you.” Your brows furrow when he says it.

“I know it’s your first time but you could never disappoint me.” You say tenderly.

“First time?” His face drops a little. “I didn’t think you knew.” He says with flushed cheeks.

“You did run off with very urgent ‘business’ to attend to halfway through our first makeout sesh.”

He cringes. “I thought it was a bit more believable than that.”

“I’m afraid not.” You peck one of his red cheeks. “I’m glad you want it to be with me though.”

“I’m glad it gets to be with you.”

You smile and pull him in for another sweet kiss as you unzip his jeans. He’s completely rock hard from only a few gentle touches. To make him more comfortable, you take off your shirt, making yourself equally as undressed. He’s seen you shirtless before but his eyes still light up with pleasure anyhow.

“Are you ready?” You ask, quickly receiving an eager nod from him.

“Yeah.”

You peck his lips once more and situate yourself in his lap, pushing your panties to the side so you can sink down on his long cock.

“Oh gods.” He murmurs as he feels your wet heat around him. Nothing can compare.

“You like that, Lukey?” You tease as you start to rise up and down on him.

“Mhm…” Is all he can get out as his eyes roll back a bit, his hands gripping so firmly to your waist.

You take your time riding him, going excruciatingly slow so that he has to watch each inch of his dick getting pulled in and out of you.

“You’re being mean.” He whines, needing so desperately for you to move faster.

“Aww poor baby.” You tease with a mocking pout before stopping your movement entirely so that you cockwarm him.

He juts his hips up and tries to move you as he holds your waist but you slap his hands off. That very much changes his perspective on things because before you know it, Luke is flipping you onto your back and pounding himself into you. He is no longer patient.

“Oh fuck, Luke!” You moan out, very surprised by the change of events as his hips slam against yours.

“Such a little tease.” He murmurs, thrusting in and out of you harder and harder as he starts to rub your clit.

“Mmm i’m sorry…” You mewl, squirming under him.

“Who’s the whiny baby now?” He teases, rubbing your clit harder, inching you closer and closer to your peak.

His hips start to stutter and his pace slows as you finally start squeezing around him. All he can do is groan and sheath himself fully as he creams inside of you. He could never have lasted a second more with your pussy fluttering and trapping his cock.

He collapses on top of you, feeling fully spent as he rests his head on your chest.

“And someone thought he was going to disappoint.”

taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween @10ava01

#luke castellan fluff #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

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phefics · 5 months

Text

veritaserum

ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed.

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins smut #hp fic #ophelia's fics

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emmyrosee · 5 months

Text

“Don’t look at me like that. Freak.”

Kiyoomi’s words have you snapping out of your daze of, indeed, staring at him, blinking lazily and smiling dopily at him. His fingers continue to thumb through his book, just as he has been for as long as you’ve been staring at him.

Usually, Kiyoomi won’t say anything in regards to your staring, normally opting to be quiet and merely continue with his day, but today, he knows something feels different.

You have to get closer to him.

Your perch on the couch has you strangely close enough, close enough you smell his curl cream and the natural scent his body has due to not applying cologne or lotion.

He smells so good. You have to get closer.

“Stop staring at me.”

“I can’t. It’s against the rules.”

“Well my rules are: I’m gonna beat you up if you don’t at least blink while you stare at me. Feel those damn eyes fixated on mine.”

You laugh but say nothing, merely scooting closer.

“I love you,” you purr, kissing his cheek. He hums contently before gently grabbing your chin to keep you close, and he turns his head away from his book to kiss you properly.

Even sitting, you’re weakened from the affection, elbow buckling under the weight of holding you up being tampered with by the affection.

You have. To. Get. Closer.

“Kiyoomi?”

“Yeah babe?”

“You know how sometimes I really like skin to skin?”

Kiyoomi flicks his eyes up at the sky, both in thought and in preparation for your question, “yes. Yes I do.”

“I love you,” you assure once more.

Before he can question, it’s too late. You’re getting closer.

“What’re you do- AYE! HEY! NO-“

It’s too late. With a smile, you force yourself under his shirt, his hands failing (and, to be honest, not trying very hard) to still you and get you back out of the shirt. He squirms slightly under the feeling of you jamming yourself under the fabric with him, trying to shove you out because yeah, he loves you, but what in the sam hell are you doing?

Threads in his shirt start popping, and he screams in agony once again, “I LIKE THIS SHIRT, NO!”

As if he’s truly trying to make you stop.

He could easily stop you, he’s done it before, he’s not fooling you any time soon.

“Just- hold on, let me-“ you show no signs of stopping your squirming.

“It ticKLES FUCK OFF!” He snarls, and he sends you a glare of rage once your head pops through the head hole with him.

Basically nose to nose with him, you smile and nudge him softly, “hi you.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, he lets out a hot breath of fury through his nose.

“Listen,” he whispers yells, and you let out a string of giggles. “No, you listen to me-“

“Okay.”

“This has got to stop- between you stealing them and you destroying them, I’m running out of shirts!”

“So don’t wear any,” you offer, and his face drops in annoyance and a roll of his eyes, and you laugh harder despite being pinned against him.

“No,” he snarls again, voices still pitched in a whisper, “no, you can’t keep doing this, just bite me for fucks sake! There’s no need for this!”

“Okay,” You say, and before he can even take his words back, you sink your teeth against his nose, biting softly while still giggling at his expense. He blinks unamused at you, clearly still in the act that he’s mad at you. “Sounds like you really just want me to bite you, Kiyoomi. Should I accept the invite?”

“IF IT KEEPS YOU FROM GRABBING MY TEETH, SNIFFING UNDER MY ARMS, AND CRAWLING IN MY SHIRTS, YES!” He barks, and you wheeze before thunking your head against him.

“You and I both know that those are not going to stop,” you assure.

He sighs, “yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” you say, giving him a small kiss for compensation. Then, you look around, your neck starting to hurt from being crinkled, “so… how do we get out of this?”

“YOU PUT US IN THIS!”

“Yeah but I have to pee.” You smack on a pair of puppy eyes and he rolls his, “unless… you don’t mind-“

“I’d rather rip this shirt to shreds and have you piss on it, than carry you to the bathroom and pee attached to you. I don’t love you that much.”

Liar.

Regardless, he pulls against you to try and pop the threads, back arching to force you up. You giggle and whine as you plant your hands on his chest, trying to push against him. The shirt stretches quite a bit under your forces, and with another grunt of effort, Kiyoomi reaches around you to grip the collar in his massive hands, and with one final shred, the shirt comes apart; it frees you both from the prison of fabric, and you let out a breath at the feeling of being released.

Now that there’s shreds of shirt in his hands, mouth releasing pants of adrenaline out, you do feel a little bad for it; with a small frown, you lean back next to him as he gathers the small bits of fabric, and you him for his attention. He glared at you from under his lashes.

“Thank you for getting us out,” you plant a compensatory kiss on his lips, initially to be used as a peck, but your heart beats wildly as one hand come up to cradle your head and keep you there as a proper kiss.

“I’ll always get you out,” he says simply against your lips.

When he doesn’t let go of your head though, your heart beats a little bit faster.

“Kiyoomi?”

“What?” The intensity of his kisses grow. You start to giggle against his lips, your hands planting on his shoulders to try and force some distance. “Why’re you freaking out?”

“Let me go!” Your words are smushed against his lips. He chuckles and pushes you impossibly closer, the entirety of his weight flipping on you and keeping you pinned. You squeal and try to fight more, only resulting in his kisses being planted down your neck and chin, making you erupt into more laughter.

“Thought you wanted to be close to me.”

“Too close!” You titter.

You feel him smirk against your skin.

“No such thing.”

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thegettingbyp2 · 9 months

Note

Can you do one where jasper hale and the reader are doing the deed and Carlisle and Esme walk in on the thing happening. Thank you ❤️

Also fem reader plz

DRINK WATER thanks love ya

Caught

You whined softly as Jasper’s hips pushed gently into yours again, one of his hands firmly planted on the bed next to your head in order to keep his weight off of your body as his other hand trailed softly along your body. Jasper was getting better with understanding that you weren’t going to snap if he held onto you a bit tighter, but when it came down to sex, he was still terrified of hurting you. Your whine caused Jasper to stop suddenly as he looked down at you, bringing his hand up to your cheek.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked, worry filling his eyes.

‘No,’ you replied, running your hands up his chest, gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled yourself up, pressing your chest against his. Jasper brought his arm around your waist to keep you against him as he buried his head into your shoulder, kissing your skin gently. ‘Jasper you’d never hurt me. If you wanted, you could go faster, you know, harder?’ you continued, your cheeks heating up, suddenly glad that he wasn’t able to see your face.

‘(Y/N), I don’t think I’d be able to control myself, I barely have it together at the moment,’ he said, chuckling into your shoulder, his chuckle turning into a groan when he felt you clench around him.

‘I trust you,’ you said, pulling his head up until he was looking at you. ‘You won’t hurt me, please Jasper, it feels so good.’

Jasper looked at you for a few seconds before pressing his forehead to yours. ‘You tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?’

‘I promise,’ you said quickly, nodding your head as he lowered you back down against the bed. You shivered when you felt his grip tighten on you ever so slightly as he thrust into you again, a cry being torn from your lips at the force. Jasper continued to pick up the speed of his thrusts until he had a gasp falling from your lips every time his hips met yours. Dipping his head back down to the column of your throat, your breath stuck as you felt him graze his teeth along your skin, silently wondering what if would feel like if he sunk his teeth into you.

He was so lost in you that he didn’t hear the sounds of Carlisle and Esme coming back home from a hunt. Carlisle and Esme heard the sounds of your cries and instantly ran up the stairs, following the sound to Jasper’s room, afraid that their newest son had lost control while they had been away. When the door opened, Jasper’s gaze shot over to the movement and, upon seeing who it was, pulled out of you and wrapped your naked body in a blanket before you could blink.

‘You’d gone out,’ Jasper said, panting slightly, his body hovering protectively over you.

‘We had, but then we came home,’ Carlisle said, a small smile appearing on his lips.

‘We heard (Y/N) and thought,’ Esme trailed off when he saw the look of sadness and guilt that passed across Jasper’s face.

‘You thought that I’d lost control and hurt her,’ Jasper finished for her. ‘I’m getting better and - ’

The combination of your hand coming to rest gently on Jasper’s cheek and Carlisle’s words cut him off before he could start to get worked up. ‘We know, son. But with a human in a house full of vampires, that’s the first thing that comes to mind when,’ Carlisle gestured in front of him, his shoulders shaking with supressed laughter. ‘But we can go back out, let the two of you, you know,’ he said, smirking slightly as he wrapped his arm around Esme’s shoulders and led her back downstairs, closing the door behind them.

‘You know, for someone with amazing hearing, you probably should have heard them come in,’ you teased, trying to cheer Jasper up. It worked as a small smile replaced that sad frown that had taken over his features and he turned his attention back towards you.

‘Well sorry ma’am if I was a bit distracted,’ he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. ‘I am getting better though right, being around you?’

‘Baby,’ you cooed, tugging him down until he was lying next to you and you curled your body into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. ‘You’re amazing, you didn’t need to get better at anything, you just had to get used to being around me. And based on what was interrupted, you’re definitely used to me being around,’ you said, unable to hide the smirk on your lips.

#jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale smut #jasper hale x reader #twilight

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brenbofen · 9 months

Text

Warmth

Sub Neuillvette x Dom AMAB Reader

Broadcaster Message - Wanted to try and figure out how i’d write for Neuvillette before Fontaine is out, such a pretty boy, need him beneatb me rn

Notes 🗒️ - Sub Neuvillette, Dom AMAB Reader, Mirror Sex, PWOP, Pet names (My love, Dove), Probably OOC Neuillvette, Really Short, Cock warming, Implied Bathroom Sex, Needy Neuillvette.

!! Not Proof Read !!

You hummed as you ran your hands along your boyfriends back, feeling him tremble beneath your touch. “Are you enjoying this, dove?” You mused, leaning down, Neuvillette arching his back when your chest pressed against him, soft whimpers escaping his lips at the feeling of you moving, your dick shifting and twitching within him.

You massaged Neuvillette’s sides, glancing up to see his face in the mirror before you, drool and tears making his face shine beneath the dim lights of your office, jaw slack and eyes heavy as he made eye contact with you in the mirror. You gently gripped onto his antenna like horns, tugging on him, forcing a whine from Neuvillette.“My love, I asked you a question.” You voice was so sickly sweet, sounding as if for the last hour you hadn’t been harshly teasing him to hell and back.

Neuvillette whimpered so sweetly when you tugged on his horns again, “I— I am enjoying th-fhUck—“ He squeaked out, cut off by your tugging on his hair, his soft locks tangled and balled in your fist. You hummed as you stood up, letting go of Neuvillette’s hair, resting your hands on the fat of his ass, gently squeezing the flesh. “I’m glad. So very glad your enjoying my gift, dove.” You gently began to rock your hips, Neuvillette moaning at the feeling of your tip grazing his prostate, unconsciously arching his back in an attempt to feel more of you.

Neuvillette whimpered when you pulled out, feeling you press your fat dick onto his back, gently spreading his hole with your thumb. “Do I have permission to cum inside of you, dove?” You stilly rocked your hips, dragging your dick across his back, Neuvillvette letting out small whines at the loss of your dick inside of him. “You can. Please cum in me, please…” Neuvillette made eye contact with you in the mirror, shivering when he saw a smirk form on your lips, crying out when you pulled your hips back and harshly thrust back into him.

Several minutes passed of you thrusting into him before he felt your warm cum spill into him, feeling you continue to thrust, shoving the liquid deeper and deeper into him, warmth comforting his poor fucked out brain. He didn’t want you to pull out, feel your warmth spill out of his tight hole, but you did. You always did, always cleaning him up, gently holding him as you told him you’d run him a bath.

Neuvillette now sat in a bathtub, eyes shut as you gently massaged his scalp, but as you did this, he couldn’t help but miss your warmth, miss the feeling of you filling him up. It wasn’t long before Neuillvette was begging you into the bath with him, soon straddling your lap with your cock deep in him, face pressed into your shoulder. Such a needy boy.

#📺 brenbofen’s stories #writing #sub genshin impact #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #Neuvillette x dom reader #sub neuvillette #Neuvillette x male reader #dom reader #male reader #neuvillette smut

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avis-writeshq · 6 months

Text

02 — haunted

summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.

“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder.

Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.

You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”

“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”

She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”

“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice.

Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”

Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused.

“So… Spencer, huh?”

You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”

You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.

“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”

“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.

“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”

“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you.

Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room.

“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”

“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”

He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”

You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”

It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp.

Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”

“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”

He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”

His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”

“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”

“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”

He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”

“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”

“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”

You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye.

“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back.

“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag.

“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?

“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”

You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”

“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”

***

“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.

Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”

“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you.

“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat.

Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.

“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.

“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case.

“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”

Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”

JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”

“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.

“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”

“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.

JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”

“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.

“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”

“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning.

Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless.

“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted.

“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.

Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.”

“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince.

“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.

Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”

***

You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch.

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.

You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”

He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”

“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”

“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”

“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”

You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”

Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”

***

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine.

The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

That is, until Spencer stood from his seat.

“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”

Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”

Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”

“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.

In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.

“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone.

“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.

“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”

Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”

“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder.

“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”

Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”

“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”

Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”

“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.

“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”

“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.

“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”

***

After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table.

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”

A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”

You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”

“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”

You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”

He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”

“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”

At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”

Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”

Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”

JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”

“Only one man?” Hotch asks.

“Apparently.”

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.

JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.

Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”

“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”

You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”

“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”

Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”

“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”

A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”

He smiles. “I will.”

JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.

Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”

You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her.

It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”

***

“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”

Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others?

“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”

You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”

“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone.

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob.

“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”

“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”

“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”

The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter.

You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly.

“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.”

She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics.

The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car.

“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house.

Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out.

“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after.

“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you.

“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.

The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.

“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”

It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this…

Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.

“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”

“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”

She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”

“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”

Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“(L/N), that’s enough.”

Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red.

“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”

“(L/N).”

“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”

“We’ll find him. Trust me.”

“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”

“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”

In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”

He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”

Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind.

“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”

Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”

“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”

“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”

“You’re too close to the case.”

A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”

“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.

“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”

“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”

The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him.

“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”

He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”

She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm.

“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”

She nods. “Okay.”

You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”

You don’t respond.

***

Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.

Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?

The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch.

“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.

The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”

“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery.

Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.

Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.

“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging.

In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”

Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair.

“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

Tobias doesn’t listen.

The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it.

“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.

Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”

“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”

“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”

He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards.

“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!”

The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”

“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet.

The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”

Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”

“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses.

“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.

His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–

“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”

You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett?

“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”

“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”

JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”

“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”

“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.”

Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does.

“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”

As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.

***

“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead.

“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”

Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”

“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”

It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on.

“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”

“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard.

“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice.

You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave.

“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”

“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”

“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”

“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.

“No! Wait, don’t hang—“

The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him.

You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys.

“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”

It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser.

“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”

“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”

You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know.

“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you.

“Yes?” You need something. Anything.

“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”

“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”

“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”

In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”

“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door.

“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”

There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet.

“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”

“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.

“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”

There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”

“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”

He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”

“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”

“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”

You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

***

The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.

“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.

He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology.

“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”

“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.

“Not if he can’t find us.”

Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”

“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.

“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe.

Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”

“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”

The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.

“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.”

He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp.

“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”

He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”

You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”

Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”

“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”

He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy.

“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”

Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl.

“They’re trying to silence my message.”

“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”

He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind.

“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”

Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”

“You’re a liar!”

Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves.

“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”

Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.

“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”

“No,” he whimpers.

Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap.

“Confess!”

“I haven’t done anything…”

His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.

“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly.

“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”

Spencer sobs. “No…”

In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again.

Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened.

“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head.

“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”

Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”

“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”

“Your team members. Choose one to die.”

He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”

Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied.”

“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”

Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”

Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think.

“Choose.”

“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”

***

“We got him.”

The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.

When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Spencer.”

His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”

The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here.

“I thought–”

You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm.

“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”

He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit.

“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound.

He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”

You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”

He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.

***

You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason.

“Come in.”

The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”

“(Y/N).”

You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”

“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”

Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”

You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”

“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”

“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”

“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen.

It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you.

“You’re leaving the BAU?”

You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”

“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”

JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”

“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips.

Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”

“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”

Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”

You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”

The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen.

“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”

He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”

Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”

“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”

“Why not?!”

“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”

Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense.

“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”

“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”

He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?

“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”

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