#i got busy and I was at a con this weekend -- not to make excuses lol i need to get back in the habit of drawing for here
Text
𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Earth 1610! Miles x F! Y/N
𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓
𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎:For a date your boyfriend goes all out so you can have a good time
𝐀/𝐍: To all of you obsessed business lovers , part 2 should be coming out soon !!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:FLUFF
The smell of a strong perfume was roaming around your body , the smell was going to last hours which is what you needed . It was gonna have people smell you before you entered the room . That’s what you wanted and needed for your date.
Miles was going to treat you to a nice date, he told you to dress comfortable yet cute. He still didn't tell you why. So the whole date was going to be a surprise.
You had let your parents know and they already approved of it and it they wanted you home before midnight. You were happy it was a weekend and not a school night.
The doorbell rang. You quickly put on your sneakers that matched your outfit and ran downstairs.
“Y/n, Miles is here “your mom says, she opens the door
“She'll be down in a second” you heard her say.
You come down the stairs and see miles at the door with flowers. You smile “excuse me “ you whisper to your mom.
“Come in “ you tell him.
You would get your vase from upstairs and do your prep for your flowers than would put the flowers in the vase.
“See you mama “ you smile and give her a hug and kiss on her cheek and you and miles leave the house.
He opens the door for you and you get in the car .he gets in after and closes the door .
“You can play the Bluetooth, “ he says. You get seat belated and you turn on The playlist.
The playlist was a playlist of you and Miles's music taste combined.
It started on your music taste, starting with love galore by Sza ft Travis Scott.
You remember when you first forced miles to learn Travis Scotts part.
You sing szas part with vocals making sure it sounded good. You were about to tap miles hand before you realized he secretly already was holding your hand .
He would start to rap the lyrics while keeping his eyes on the road
Music would keeping playing until the car would be parked. He would get out the car first, than come to your side of the car to open the door for you.
You smile
“Thank you, but you didn't to “ you smile at him.
“I wanted to “ he says. You guys hold hands and walk into the place. It looked like a concert was going to happen.
You were confused as you guys kept walking down until it was the 3rd row . You guys would walk in and talk .
“So I know how you like sza , so I got you some tickets to see her , and I got the back stage pass “ he says you smile and give him a huge hug .
“Te quiero mucho ( I love you so much) “ you tell him . You keep giving him kisses on the cheek .
More and more people would come to the concert .
The it started , some tall guy was Infront of you , which caused kinda made you a little bit upset . Miles would see this and would pick you up. Putting you on his shoulders , at first you where scared on why he did this but that you got more happy , at the thought of it
When the concert was done you guys had your VIP access , y’all would buy some of the concert geer ,talk to her and then take a picture.
“Baby this date was the best” you say as you smile at him. You guys held hands “I’m glad I could make it special for you “ he says and gives you a kiss on his hand
You guys would drive almost home before he stopped and parked at a little diner . “ I understand you Might not be hungry ,Pero no puedo dejar que te vayas a casa con hambre” (but I can’t let you go home hungry )
You smile at his thought “someone’s been practicing their Spanish “ you joke to him
Y’all walk into the restaurant, y’all would talk about your favorite paper of the concert .
“Can I get some pancakes “ you ask them she nods then takes miles order .
You guys would eat the meal talk and enjoy spending quality time together.
Soon the night would end , On the porch with the light on .
“I’m glad I could experience this night with you “ you tell him .
“I’m glad I could see you happy , enjoying yourself “ he smiles .
You give him a quick peck on the cheek . “Love you “ you tell him , you go inside your house and close the door .
Then you go get the flowers off the counter . You hug them and think about miles
#miles molares#miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles morales fic#miles morales x y/n#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales x you#miles morales fluff#earth 1610#earth 1610 miles morales x reader
203 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Long Con, Pt. 1
Pairing: Max Burnett x Fem!Reader (no use of y/n, reader eventually has a nickname)
Summary: Max, having parted ways with Madeline, still can't let go of his lust for a lavish life. He now finds himself at upscale hotel bars scouting out wealthy widows and divorcees to bed and steal from to keep afloat while he cooks up his first big solo con. What seems like a business-as-usual one night stand could just end up being his perfect long con. Or hers.
Warnings: 18+ only, smuuuuuuuuuut (pretty much right off the bat, but there is a plot in there somewhere), oral, unprotected p in v, swearing, drinking, kissing, dubcon (sorta), kinda subby Max, Max and reader are both little assholes
Word count: ~4k
a/n: Hellooooooo! I don't really know what the market is for this kind of thing since I've been out of the fanfic writing world for over a decade now, but I've had this little story brewing in my head since watching Sharper when it was first released and finally started putting it into words and feeling courageous enough to publish it somewhere on the off chance someone will enjoy it. This will be a few parts, but I'm not exactly sure how many at this point. Anyway, I so hope you enjoy this if you stumble upon it and give it a shot. :)
___________________________
Max swirled the whiskey in his glass as he leaned coolly against the bar, scanning the dim Manhattan establishment for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to locate his next mark.
With what he’d heard about the clientele here, he had expected the evening to go much smoother—get in, find a desperate 50-something to leave with, pocket some cash and blank checks after fucking her to sleep, repeat—but, after an hour or so of misses, he was ready to call it a night. Weekday evenings were usually perfect for this little game he’d adopted to pass the time while he figured out his next big solo move since breaking from Madeline. The too-young girls looking for rich old men weren’t out until the weekend, and the mature divorcees were out scouting for their next fling, more than happy to accept his attention. But tonight was a quiet one, and he was growing more frustrated with each dud he spotted. Downing the rest of the amber liquid, he slammed the glass down on the bar and moved to head for the door.
“Easy there!” He heard from behind. He turned quickly to study the source of the honeyed voice. “Excuse me,” she asked, effortlessly getting the bartender’s attention as soon as she stepped up to the bar. “Could I get a vodka tonic, extra lime, and keep them coming, please? Actually, go ahead and make that a double.” She smiled softly at the bartender’s confirming nod and spun to face the crowd of patrons as she waited for her drink. Her gaze shifted lazily around the room, meeting Max’s eyes as he sized her up. “See something you like?”
She was perfect. Younger than his usual target, but old enough to have the resources he needed. Her glossy blown out hair and subtle designer label ensemble screamed trust fund baby. Her drink order suggested she was ready to loosen up for the evening, and she was at least regular enough here that she didn’t have to give a card for a tab. No ring on her finger. Cool demeanor. And she was much easier on the eyes than the women he had suffered the last few months to get by. Perfect.
“Absolutely,” he replied, pulling his most seductive smirk.
She chuckled amusedly, cocking her brow. “Forward.”
Max sidled back up to the bar to settle next to his prey, gesturing to the bartender for another. “Let me buy you a drink?”
“Not wasting any time, are we?” She took a sip of her cocktail as soon as it reached her hand. “No introductions, just right down to business. I respect that.”
“I’m—”
“No, unh-unh,” she interrupted with a fluid wave of her hand, “I don’t care. We’ve both got the same motive, so let’s just skip the unnecessary bullshit. Trust me, it’s so much more fun with no names.”
Max could hear the jackpot jingle ring in his brain as he registered her words. Beyond perfect. He wouldn’t even have to bother with creating an identity for the night or convincing her to take him home. Admittedly, it did suck some of the fun out of his scheme, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He clinked his glass against hers in enthusiastic agreement.
“Great. I’ve got this one, so next one’s on you.” She downed a few gulps of her drink and gave him a slow once over. “Not bad. I usually only catch old pervs here.”
Max snickered. “Glad to hear I don’t look like a perv.”
“You don’t look like an old perv,” she corrected.
“So then tell me what I look like,” Max prompted as he softly ran his knuckles up her bicep from elbow to shoulder, twisting her hair around his finger.
She studied his features for another moment through narrowed eyes before responding. “Attractive. New money. Arrogant, for sure. Devious— you’ve got that glint in your eye, I see it. And here tonight, so definitely a perv.”
“You’re here tonight, what does that make you?”
She smiled up at him teasingly. “You’ll just have to come back to my room and find out, I guess.”
_______________
The walk from the bar, through the hotel lobby, and to the elevator was a short one, and Max couldn’t have been more thankful. The flowing liquor and flirtatious banter coupled with the anticipation of his scheme playing out successfully had his excitement at peak. The attraction certainly didn’t hurt either. It had been months since he found himself entangled with someone he felt legitimate physical desire for—not that that mattered to him in the end so long as he left with his pockets satisfactorily lined, but it was a welcome change.
She kept her hands to herself as she led Max to the elevators, unable to leave behind the strict societal manners she was raised on and give in to her temptation to grab him and take him in the nearest secluded corner. It had been months since she’d had a good lay, and Max’s assertive air had her convinced that he’d be the one to break that depressing trend. Impatient and aroused as ever, she fought not to drum her fingers or tap her foot waiting for the elevator to finish its slow descent, not wanting to drop her poised façade and let Max see how desperate she was to be alone with him, to touch him, to taste him. She let out a silent breath in relief as the doors finally parted, quickly fishing a key out and stepping in.
Max’s eyes lit up watching her insert the key and press the accompanying “P” button. Penthouse. His cock jumped in exhilaration, and suddenly his hands were on her as the elevator doors closed. The touch of his hands on her waist and his soft breath on her neck threatened to break her and make her go feral. She fought her urge to whip around, grab his hair roughly, and pull his lips to meet hers—her resolve to appear as composed as possible still strong. As Max wound himself around her like the snake he was, pressing his body to hers and peppering lazy kisses along her throat, she counted down the seconds until the elevator stopped at her floor.
Stepping out of the claustrophobic box into the airy suite instantly flipped the switch on her demeanor. The freedom of absolute privacy from the outside world washed over her and she suddenly found herself unreservedly overtaken by the lust that had been simmering within her, pulling Max out of the elevator by the lapel of his jacket. Greedy lips collided while hands caressed skin and pulled hair. Neither wanting to waste another second, they clumsily made their way through the bedroom doorway, quickly discarding the last of each other’s clothing.
Max continued backing her toward the plush bed as she nipped and sucked at his neck. The groan he let out at her teeth grazing his skin told her he liked a little dominance. When the backs of her knees met the side of the bed she disconnected from him, looking into his eyes through her long lashes and shaking her head as she rounded on him and shoved him down instead. Max grinned devilishly as she straddled him and roughly reclaimed his lips.
“Touch me,” she said breathily between sloppy kisses, guiding his right hand from her hair at the nape of her neck down to her aching core.
“Right down to business. I respect that,” Max said, teasingly repeating her words from earlier that evening. Without hesitation, he inserted two digits, eliciting a deep moan from her right into his mouth. “So wet for me.” He gathered her slick and languidly drew out his fingers to tightly circle her swollen clit.
The sob she let out was nearly animal as he applied just the right amount of pressure but kept his movement frustratingly slow. “Fuck,” she keened, “faster.”
Max bit her bottom lip and quickened his pace ever so slightly. “’Atta girl, tell me what to do.”
She slid a hand down his chest and abdomen, grasping his firm cock, and quickly jerked his head back by the hair with the other to look him in his dilated eyes. “Make me cum and you can have whatever you want,” she promised as she stroked him so softly that he physically ached for more.
He tried to hide the breath that caught in his throat and laid back on his elbows. “Get up here,” he said, grabbing the backs of her thighs and pulling her toward his face. She laughed sensually as she shuffled her way up his torso. He greeted her throbbing bundle of nerves with a smooth lap of his tongue and hooked his arms around each thigh to draw her down until she was sat on him completely. He teased her no longer, tasting her sweetness deeply and sucking her clit, immediately turning her into a whimpering mess.
“Fuck, yes. Just like that, don’t stop.” Her cries of satisfaction and writhing on Max’s skilled tongue elicited his own moans and had him bucking his hips in anticipation of burying himself deep inside her wet heat. “Yes! Right there, right there” she chanted. Max increased the pace of his massage and shook his head, sucking her in impossibly deeper, his encouraging moans sending vibrations through her body and overstimulating her. She couldn’t form words any longer as the growing knot in her stomach came undone and she convulsed, crying out the god she did or didn’t believe in and releasing her orgasm into Max’s welcoming mouth.
Max—ever the proud lover—didn’t stop until she’d nearly collapsed. He finally freed her tender clit when she pulled his hair so hard it threatened to rip out at the root. Despite her promise, she didn’t wait for Max’s direction before taking her next steps, needing him inside of her as soon as humanly possible. She slithered down his body until her wanting core hovered just above his painfully hard cock. Before she could grip him herself, Max grabbed her roughly by the hip to hold her steady as he lined himself up and ran his leaking tip through her soaked folds. They moaned in unison while he repeated his movements once, twice, three times, until he abruptly thrust up into her. He bottomed out, sheathing her completely, and gave her a moment to adjust to his size.
Without a word, she ran a hand up his chiseled abdomen and placed it on his chest for leverage as she began to slowly rise up off of him. She stopped as the head of his dick reached her entrance, just before it could fall out, and sank back down as slowly as she had risen. Max threw his head back into the mattress, eyes rolled far back in his head, and cried out in ecstasy. She lifted herself again, reiterating her slow descent and moaned proudly at the sight of Max’s nods of pleasure. “You like that, huh, baby,” she cooed.
“Mhmm,” Max nodded again.
“Use your words. Tell me what you want,” she said, continuing to lazily ride him, drawing out each lift and descent.
Max grunted as her cervix bumped his sensitive tip once more. “Need you to ride me,” he said. “So fucking tight and wet for me. Bounce on my cock.” He gave her no chance to quicken her pace herself. He took hold of her ass cheeks brusquely, spreading them slightly, and guiding her down hard over his length, meeting her in the middle with a thrust.
She didn’t protest, giving up control and allowing Max to set his desired pace. It was fast and raucous by this point as Max’s need for release had steadily built up in the act of giving pleasure.
“God, you’re so fucking good,” she sighed out through a hazy, cock-drunk smile.
Max practically growled at the praise, tightening his grip to hold her in place and giving her everything he had. The bottom of his spine was starting to tingle and his need to cum was taking over.
She intuited the meaning of his increased intensity and woke slightly from her sex-induced fog as she remembered they hadn’t used a condom. “Shit, wait,” she exclaimed. “You can’t cum inside me, you have to pull out.”
“But you feel so fucking good,” he said without really processing the bigger picture. She was right, of course, and had he been in his right mind he would have agreed in an instant.
“Please,” she said through her moans. “Fuck me on my back. I want you to cum all over me.”
The sound of her begging and the thought of her with her legs spread for him, covered in his cum, got his full attention. He flipped them over and kept his rhythm, throwing her legs over his shoulders and hitting even deeper now than before. He watched himself fill her over and over as she writhed beneath him and grabbed at whatever she could get her hands on. The tingling at the base of his spine formed again and his hips jerked erratically. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he let out through gritted teeth. He pulled out just in time and she quickly grabbed his shaft, pumping him fervently and letting his ropes of cum spread across her stomach and chest.
Max stayed hovered over her for a moment while he caught his breath, eventually flopping over next to her. As he recovered, she raised herself onto her elbows, surveying the mess they’d painted onto her body together, giggling in her pleasured, post-coital daze. “I’ll clean this up in a minute,” she muttered, collapsing back down with a smile and closing her eyes.
_______________
Max slowly left the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty next to him. She was gorgeous, and she’d been the best fuck he’d had in quite some time, but he had a job to do. Somewhere in the well-decorated penthouse was the money he’d come for. He had no trouble finding and pocketing the cash in her purse that she’d so carelessly left right by the elevator, but $1,500 wasn’t going to get him far—he needed the trust checks. Based on the state of the place, it was clear she had taken up permanent residence there. As stealthily as he could, he tore the place apart searching for the coveted checkbook, growing more and more irritated as he continued to find nothing.
Time passed quickly, and he found himself scavenging through her purse yet again. Knowing nothing was likely to magically appear, he decided to take a moment to study the contents of her wallet. He pulled out her ID card, finally putting a name to the face. He smiled to himself when he read her last name, recognizing it instantly and feeling pride in his ability to successfully spot old money types in a crowd. He was still silently patting himself on the back when the sound of a throat clearing behind him broke the early morning silence he’d been working in. Fuck.
“You’re robbing me,” she asked flatly, seemingly unsurprised. “Pathetic.”
Max chuckled darkly, dropping the charm he’d laid on mere hours ago. “You let a nameless stranger fuck you raw and spend the night in your pretty little penthouse suite. Yeah, I’m pathetic.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as he approached her, ID still clutched in his fingers.
“What’ll you tell daddy when your money’s all gone,” he taunted, brushing a featherlight knuckle across her cheekbone. He was taken aback as she broke into laughter instead of starting to break under his touch like he expected.
“’What’ll you tell daddy when your money’s all gone,’” she mimicked through her laughter. “Man, you are funny. See, for you take all my money, I’d have to have it first, you fucking idiot.”
Max’s eyes widened. Admittedly he hadn’t inquired about her age, trusting that she looked old enough to be an adult, and he hadn’t checked her date of birth on her ID for lack of interest. She stared him down, enjoying seeing the wheels furiously spinning in his head.
“Calm down, I’m not even close to a child,” she assured him. “Daddy is just a misogynist.” Max’s expression turned from alarm to confusion. “We’ll get to that in a second. First, your name.”
“Fuck off,” Max said.
She scoffed sarcastically. “Well, that’s not very nice. It’s only fair now that you know who I am, and you’re trying to take me for everything I’ve got.” She waited a moment, but Max stayed silent. “Ah, come on. You tell me your name, and I won’t have your kneecaps shot out by daddy’s friends.”
Max’s eyes darted toward the window as if he’d be able to see in the flesh the burly henchmen he was now imagining. He’d never been in this position before and he couldn’t confidently call her bluff—how else do these old money types keep their money and connections but through brute force? He resigned with a sigh. “Max.”
“Max,” she repeated. “I’d say nice to meet you, but—well, you get it. Anyway, Max, you can call me Doe.”
Max sneered. “Dough? Like money? The jokes really wri—”
“No,” she interjected. “Doe, D-O-E, like a deer. For my eyes.”
Max snorted derisively. “Okay, Doe.”
“Oh, shut up,” she snapped. “Anyway, misogyny. You know what that word means, right? Maybe a big one for someone of your… station.”
“My station? God, you fucking people. Yes, I know what misogyny means.”
Doe nodded, smiling up at him in jest. “Impressive. See, daddy does have me set up with a trust—you’re right about that. The problem is, daddy doesn’t think women can handle millions, let alone billions of dollars, no matter how old we are or how much education we have or how long we work our asses off to prove ourselves. So, daddy set my trust up with one stipulation: I get married, I get the money.” Max raised a brow as he took in her predicament. “Right? You see my problem, then.”
Max shook his head as if to clear it. “Wait, so you have a billion-fucking-dollar trust waiting for you—billion with a ‘b’—and you won’t just do what you have to do to get it?”
“No, I will not,” she exclaimed, disgusted at the notion of even considering it. “Not in his way, anyway.”
“The will,” Max said, seemingly connecting the dots. “You think he’s leaving it all to you? He won’t let you touch your own trust and you think he’s leaving his entire empire to you?”
Doe glowered at him. She had thought that a possibility at one time, of course, but had long since admitted to herself that he would never entrust her with the family fortune. She’d even hoped that he would at least leave her enough by her standards, but that wasn’t going to happen either. Deep down, Doe wasn’t much different from Max. She wanted her money, she wanted all the money, and the thought of losing the luxurious life she’d grown accustomed to all her life made her sick. She wasn’t cut out for a boring, regular life. And, thus, she found herself here.
“Fuck you,” she retorted. “No, not the will—I’m not a fool. I have a plan, and that’s where you come in.”
Max stared at her in silent confusion.
“Please don’t drool on my floor,” Doe teased, patting his slack jaw. “Here, let me spell it out for you. I went down to the bar last night to hunt, just like you. I’ve been scouting and, like I said, only finding old pervs. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be face to face with a 70-year-old man’s flaccid penis while you wait for the blue pill to kick in? Not worth the fucking money. I physically could not do it anymore. Anyway, I pivoted to the leeches—at least you’re hot, ya know?”
“Leeches?”
“Yes, leeches. You look for money, that’s all you want, and you’ll bleed it from any woman who has it and is charitable enough to look past the Brooks Brothers sale rack suit and take you home,” Doe continued. “Call me altruistic—I scoped you out, caught you in your most desperate moment when you were just about to throw in the towel, and reeled you right in. I’ll admit I wasn’t sure how it would turn out at first, but you’re a fantastic lay.”
“Truly pathetic,” Max muttered.
“Aw, Maxy, don’t be mad,” Doe tutted, running a hand through his sleek hair. “Really, you were so talented even just as a quickie. And then, even better than I expected, I woke up for a little morning round two only to find you trying to burgle me. I mean, truly, what a perfect set up.”
“You’re pitiful,” Max spat, trying to gain some control over the unforeseen situation he now found himself in. “And the saddest part is how easy it all could’ve been. Look at you. You’re beautiful, smart, you could cut practically any man down with that fucking mouth of yours, good in bed, and fucking loaded. You could pull any sucker out there and live happily ever after. Hell, just pick one, get married, get the money, then divorce him.”
“Just good in bed? Not even great?” Max blustered in annoyance at her quips. “Don’t get huffy with me. Anyway, you just laid out the whole plan.” She paused, waiting for it to click for him.
Max’s expression quickly shifted from annoyance to an amused smirk. “I’m the sucker, huh?”
“Now you’re getting it,” Doe smiled back.
“No,” Max said, dropping the smirk in in instant. “Absolutely fucking not.”
Doe laughed sweetly. “Oh, but you are. I wasn’t kidding about the kneecaps.”
Max stepped away from her, pointing an angry finger in her face. “You’re a fucking psychopath. I’m not fucking marrying you.”
Doe rolled her eyes at Max’s aggravation. “Chill out, you’ll get your cut.”
That got Max’s attention. “My cut?” He could feel his frustration diffusing from a boil to a simmer.
“Of course,” Doe said. “What, you didn’t think I’d leave you high and dry, did you? I’m not a monster, like you.” She teased, sidling her way back into his space, gently caressing his chest. “I told you last night, make me cum and you can have whatever you want. You kept up your end of the bargain and I plan to keep mine. We’ll just get married, get the money, split it, and we can go our separate ways. We’ll be set for life—do whatever we want. Billions with a ‘b,’ remember?”
Doe’s soft touch and devious mind coupled with the thought of money the likes of which Max couldn’t fully comprehend had his cock twitching in his briefs. It was extreme—far beyond anything he’d ever planned—but he couldn’t deny it was genius. He’d striven to not be tied to another person in his game again after working with Madeline for so long, ultimately becoming completely unable to trust her as a partner, but this allowed him a freedom to walk away that he’d never had before so long as Doe kept her word. And even if she didn’t, the marriage would grant him access to the funds whether she liked it or not. He had nothing to lose.
Doe placed a delicate kiss on his neck. “So? What do you say,” she asked, pulling him out of his contemplative trance. “60/40?”
Max smiled widely, cupping either side of Doe’s face and, just like the night before, led her backward into the dimly lit bedroom. “Billions with a fucking ‘b,’” he shouted excitedly and captured her mouth in a heated kiss. Doe would get her money and her morning round two.
#max burnett x reader#max burnett#sharper#sebastian stan characters#max burnett fanfiction#max burnett x female reader#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan smut#sharper movie#max burnett smut#sebastian stan x reader
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bearded Beast - Kinktober 13
Summary: A sex tape. Andy Barber. And you.
Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Kink: Beard fetish 😈
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: angst, coercion, extortion, sex tapes, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Andy, hand around throat, rough sex, creampie, doggy style, I’ll label this one dub-con, beard kink, degrading kink, dom/sub underlines, dirty talk, praising, choking (a hint, arm and hand)
A/N: Please read the warnings for this story. It contains scenes of dub-con.
Words: 1,9 k
Kinktober 2022
You thought he was a nice guy. You thought he was the domestic dream. You thought he’ll treat a woman right.
You were wrong.
While you lie next to him, covered in his cum and bruises again, you think about how you ended up in the bearded beast’s clutches.
It’s a short but intense story…
“Morning, Professor Barber,” you give your new colleagues a soft smile.
He’s new to town, freshly divorced, and a loner. That’s why you made it your mission to help him settle in. You already helped him chose wallpapers for his house and baked a pie for him.
“How was your weekend?”
“You know…boring…lonely,” he sheepishly replies. Andy is always a little shy when you are around, and it makes you wonder if you are too pushy. “I finished the kitchen. Maybe I can take you up on that promise and you cook for me one day.”
“I’d like that, Andy.”
You watch Andy run his hand over his beard, humming as you try not to stare. He can never know you have a weakness for bearded men.
Especially when they look like Andy…
“No horny thoughts, Y/N”, you think to yourself as you watch Andy talk to one of your colleagues. She touches his bicep, making you square your jaw. “Stop staring at your colleague. He’s not on the menu. Even if his beard is to die for, you barely know the man.”
You decide the moment Andy starts shamelessly flirting with Sarah Ann, that he’s not the man he thought he is. Your bad that you believed he’s into you.
In the coming weeks, you will keep your distance and stop pretending something is going on between you and Andy.
A few weeks later you feel Andy’s eyes on you. He always seems to be around and tries to talk to you.
“Morning, Y/N. How was your weekend?”
“Always the same,” you lick your lips. It’s been a while since you talked to Andy. He was busy flirting with every female colleague at the college you are working at. “I guess yours was a little more exciting.”
Andy furrows his brows at your angry tone. “Exciting?”
“I heard you made plans with Sarah Ann or was it, Allison? No, it was Chantal,” you quip. You’re angry at yourself for falling for a man not being interested in you. “If you would excuse me now. I got to check on my appointments.”
“Y/N, what’s wrong with you lately,” Andy acts as if you didn’t just tell him what’s wrong. “Wait. Don’t run away from me.”
He grabs your arm and stops you from running off. “You won’t turn your back on me when I’m talking. Got it?” you end up pressed against the wall in the hallways leading toward your office. “I asked you a question!”
“I got it.”
You breathlessly reply. Something in Andy’s eyes tells you to not talk back right now. His hands grip your upper arms to hold you against the wall.
“You promised to cook for me and then, you made yourself scarce. I don’t like people making promises they don’t keep.”
“I thought you are busy with all the other women roaming your house,” he smirks as you look up at him with wide eyes. “You don’t need me.”
“I decide what I need, kitten,” he leans closer to whisper in your ear. “After work, you’ll come to my office. I want to show you something.”
“I-no,” you try.
“Do I have to repeat myself?” his voice a little rougher he purrs in your ear. “Answer me!”
“No. I-I’ll be there.”
“Good girl…”
“Andy, I don’t like this one bit. What you did this morning was a no-go. I won’t let you treat me like that ever again. I thought we are on good terms or can become friends. But now I know, you are a little too aggressive for me.”
“Y/N, I will tell you this only once,” he steps closer to cup the back of your neck. “I had some fun, that’s true.”
Andy smirks darkly as you lick your lips and you stare at his beard again.
“But, I know having my way with you will be so much more fun,” he dips his head to whisper the next part. “I know you imagined being with me.”
“That’s in the past,” you try to sound strong. Seeing Andy with other women hurt. You won’t let him pretend you are someone special only to treat you like trash too.
“I was afraid you would tell me so.”
He steps away, and you sigh in relief. “Good. If you would excuse me now.”
You want to leave, but Andy is fast to lock the door.
“You won’t leave. I said I was afraid you would tell me no so…” he grins while unlocking his phone. “I made sure you won’t.”
“What do you mean?” you wonder aloud as he pushes his phone into your hands. “I don’t understand.”
“Have a look at the video.”
“Video?” you swallow thickly as he presses start for you. “See, I got a nice friend helping me find shit on the world wide web.”
You would chuckle at his dad word for the internet, but you are too busy staring at the video in shock.
“No…that’s impossible. He said he deleted it.”
“The world wide web never forgets, kitten.”
Andy’s eyes drop to your chest. “I wonder how you will look when I fill you with something bigger than the pitiful stick that guy calls his cock.”
“Why are you showing me this?” you ask, already knowing the answer. “Andy?”
“I wanted to ask you out, but,” he chuckles darkly, “this would take time and a lot of convincing. You would want flowers and compliments. I only want to know how you feel around me.”
“What do you want? A one-night stand.”
“Oh, kitten,” he’s on you again to run his hands all over your body. His lips and teeth nip at your neck as you try to fight your body, “I don’t want a quickie and to never see you again. You will become my toy. Whenever I want to fuck you, you’ll only ask how and where.”
“What?”
“If you don’t become mine, the video will get released on the college server. Every student and all of our colleagues will see what a naughty little slut you are.”
“He was my boyfriend and…”
“Look again,” he steps away to allow you to watch the video again. “You should take your time and look at his face.”
“What? The dean? I never had sex with the dean. That’s not…no…”
“You see, my friend can manipulate videos, photos, and websites,” Andy laughs as you throw his phone against the wall. “This won’t delete the video, kitten.”
“Why did you do it?”
“I wanted to make sure you are going to be my good girl.”
You stare at him, eyes glued to his thick beard. He cannot know that his beard turns you on, or that you give shit that he tries to extort you.
All you ever wanted was to be someone’s little sex toy. You yearn for a man degrading and using you in the bedroom and taking care of you afterward.
Sadly, none of your former boyfriends satisfied your cravings.
“Andy-“ you squeak when he grabs your arm to bring you close to his chest. He looks down at you, smirking darkly.
“You are going to play by my rules now,” he twirls you around to bend you over his desk, knocking his laptop over on his way.
You shriek, but don’t fight Andy when he shoves your skirt up to reveal your soaked panties to him. “Andy.”
“Fuck, you are a little slut, aren’t you? I bet you whored your way around the college for years. Did you spread your legs for everyone here to get your fill?”
He’s calling you slut, whore, and worse as he fumbles with your panties. “Lay still or I’ll cut you,” Andy warns as he uses the scissor on his desk to cut a hole in your panties. “That’s much better. A hole to use only for me.”
“Andy.”
The next moments are haze. You can hear his zipper come down and end up in his arms. One large hand wraps around your throat as he rubs his cock over your clit. “Be good.”
You close your eyes and let Andy bend your body to his will. His arm wraps around your throat as he lines himself up, thrusting hard to fill you in one go.
He immediately covers your mouth with his free hand to make sure no one can hear you squeak and moan. “Fuck, you’re still so tight for a slut. I bet I can ruin this cunt once and for all.”
“Hmph…” you don’t get to talk back. Not with Andy starting to slide in and out at you. He doesn’t go slow or let you adjust to his thick cock. He immediately lays claim to your pussy and makes it his home.
“You’re so sweet and soft, huh?” he rubs his cheek against yours, scratching your soft skin with his beard. “I bet you love cooking for your man and making sure he feels good. You’re such a good girl.”
His words a soft, almost loving. A stark contrast to the way he fucks you from behind.
His length pumps into you at a pace taking your breath away.
“Fucking take it.”
You struggle to breathe right as he gets even faster. He rams into you, all the while groaning in your ear. “Take me. Be good. Cum for me.”
All you can do is take every harsh thrust and cream all over his cock. “A-ndy.”
“That’s right, whore. Say my name while you cum on my cock.”
“Andy!”
“Louder. I want everyone to hear what a slut you are for my dick,” he pants heavily in your ear. His groans get louder as his warmth finally fills you. “Oh, baby kitten, this was just the beginning of a wonderful relationship.”
“Don’t move. I want you to relax, baby,” Andy is all over you to check on you. “I wasn’t too harsh, right? Was it good? Uh-was it all you ever wanted.”
“Andy, baby,” you laugh as he shifts from one foot to the other. “You were perfect. I know it was much to ask for to get out of your comfort zone. My kinks are not for everyone.”
“Uh-I loved it. The sex was so intense, and you came so hard,” he sits on the bed to run his hand over your hair. “If you want to, we can do more roleplaying. I could be your boss and you, my overworked assistant, going down on me for a raise.”
“Damn, Mr. Barber,” you smirk. “You thought about this a lot. Didn’t you?”
“Since you openly talked about your kinks…every day. I did research and look,” he points at the notebook on the bed. “I took some notes and have a few ideas. What do you think about breeding benches?”
“OH BABY!” you jump at Andy to push him down on the bed. “I guess you will walk funny tomorrow, Andy.”
“I’m all yours, Mrs. Barber…”
Tags in reblog.
#andy barber#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber smut#smut#tw: dubcon#andy barber x reader#andy barber x fem!reader#andy barber x you#defending jacob fanfiction#kinktober 2022#kinktober day 13#Bearded Beast
392 notes
·
View notes
Note
Jensen’s job isn’t what makes him a bad dad as much as he would like people to think that’s the reason. The blame is solely on his shoulders. Many people in Hollywood have children, and they all take different approaches in making sure they can balance a career and family. I’ve seen couples mention that they make sure only one parent is working at a time so that the children always have one parent home. A lot of actresses retire or take a short hiatus after having children so that they can be there for them. A lot of actors and actresses chose what projects they work based on how long they’ll take them away from their family, or how close to home they’ll be able to stay. Does this mean they have to make sacrifices and sometimes turn down projects? Yes, but that’s what being a parent is all about. You chose to be a parent, your child didn’t get a choice.
Jensen being a bad dad is his own fault. He hides behind work because it not only gives him a convenient excuse but makes him seem like an in demand breadwinner. He ditched his wife and newborn twins right after they were born to attend a con. He’s never been able to hide his favoritism towards JJ, whether it’s through his words or actions like both him and Danneel leaving the twins behind to bring JJ along. Half of his stories about his children involve him yelling at them, and the rest are a mix of apathetic weekend parenting anecdotes, praising of Danneel for doing the bare minimum as a mother in a way that is somehow both half-assed and over the top, and the occasional cute story so that he can get some “aws” from the audience. The reveal from this past weekend that he is rarely home and rarely sees his children is a result of him getting cocky. He’s so used to being praised for just existing, and you can tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t prepared for the audience to react negatively when he said that he hasn’t been home in two months. He thought he was going to get sympathy (poor Jensen is so busy he hasn’t even been able to go home!) and instead he had to backtrack so that he wouldn’t seem like an absentee dad, and very conveniently made Danneel into a potential bad guy like he always does. I wanted to stay after the birth of the twins, but Danneel told me to go to work. I wanted to take some time off and go on vacation after Supernatural, but Danneel told me to go back to work. I was only going to be gone for two weeks, but Danneel took the kids on a trip because it was too hot. He knows people don’t like his wife, and yet he always manages to paint her in a bad light instead of trying to uplift her or just shutting up because he knows people will think what they want. I don’t doubt a part of his bad parenting is a result of the two not wanting to be near each other and that there is a lot of pressure on him to work because Danneel doesn’t and they live an expensive lifestyle beyond their means. But it’s mostly on him. If A-listers can manage to be there for and connect with their children, he could do the same.
And I know the comparisons between Jared/Gen and Jensen/Danneel get old and are sometimes unfair, but it’s interesting to see how two men in the same boat have such different realities. When Supernatural was filming, Jared saw his family regularly because either he would fly down to Austin to be with them, or Gen would bring the kids to Vancouver and even sometimes the cities where cons were being held. When the show ended, his family was his priority and he was lucky enough to be in a position where he could say if I don’t work in Austin, I don’t work at all. Jensen also would fly down to Austin to see his kids, but now I wonder if he only did so because Jared was doing it. There’s years worth of pictures of the Padalecki kids and Gen in Van from various sources, and stories from cast and crew about Gen and the kids. No one except for Jared spoke about knowing Danneel until she got her season 13 cameo and the extras started sucking up to her, there’s only evidence of JJ visiting Van a couple of times, and Danneel’s weird schtick regarding her time filming for season 13 (posting her and JJ regularly on Instagram regularly with the location tagged so that people would know that she was with Jensen, trying to make it seem like she was both really close with the cast and crew and a great mom by saying she brought her kids on set and had the crew members watch them) suggests that she was overcompensating and trying to compete with Gen for the title of supportive wife. Danneel didn’t take the children to go visit him in Toronto when travel restrictions were lifted while he was filming The Boys. They called the nanny back two weeks into the pandemic because they couldn’t take it anymore. They sent their children to school pre vaccines during a deadly pandemic because even with nannies they couldn’t handle having their children around for more than a few hours a day. The kids don’t seem to be living in one place and are traveling around at Danneel’s whim, though hopefully that’s changing with the twins starting kindergarten. Both of the Ackles seem super self centered and like their children are just an afterthought.
"Both of the Ackles seem super self centered and like their children are just an afterthought."
THIS. Also, this post is written wonderfully, thank you Anon for taking the time to share your perspective with us.
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Amber Lounge
Lewis Hamilton x Reader
WARNING: 18+, NSFW, explicit, alcohol, drugs, unprotected sex.
Word count: 3,600+
What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a club all by herself?
Another party, this time in Monaco. Your glass, filled with what seemed like a very expensive gin, vibrated to the the loud music playing in the club.
Let loose. You thought to yourself slightly lowering your body-con black dress and searching for familiar faces.
You looked around the VIP party you had been invited to. Ever since your dad's business put him on the "Forbes Richest" list your reputation had skyrocketed along with it. You were an A-lister yourself at this point, everyone longed for your appearance at their events, and as if your life depended on it, you attended. Your social media and events presence had helped you befriend the hottest models and richest rappers in the game and you quite enjoyed the lavish lifestyle.
You and your dad had flown down for the Monaco GP weekend, courtesy of the team principal of the most popular F1 team, Toto Wolff. Surprisingly, it was your first Grand Prix, and probably your last. The hospitality was, as usual, amazing but you found watching cars go around in circles slightly boring.
You took a rather large sip of your gin and started to tune into the beat, your body processing the large quantities of alcohol you had decided to ingest.
Because you hadn't been invited to the Grand Prix by a driver in particular and had failed to engage with any during the "boring" weekend, you found yourself attending the party and having to fit in all by yourself. Making your way through the club you encountered a few drivers, whom you recognised and recognised you, and their respective guests. You knew you weren't an easy face to forget, so it didn't take long before a few people started commenting about your presence.
Making yourself comfortable around the younger squad of drivers, your body swayed to the loud music that hit your ears. Your eyes shut as you engaged with the environment, allowing the melodies and strong base to sway you in.
"You're a Mercedes guest, aren't you?" A familiar voice rang through. Russell. Your eyes opened to look at the briton who stood very close to your ear, making sure his words were getting to you just fine. You nodded quickly, downing your drink before replying to him "Well, my dad is. I just tagged along"
His lips turned into a small smile as he took a good glance at you, leaning closer again he chatted a bit more; "and what did you think of it?"
"Not my vibe" You shrugged jokingly. "This though, is!" You put your empty glass down in a nearby table and pulled George into what seemed like a circle of people dancing, as In Da Club by 50 Cent started playing.
You both started dancing to the song, George's friends joined, and in no time you set yourself in the party ambient, drenching yourself in alcohol as more bottles were brought in at the request of Russell, Latifi, and a few other younger drivers you hadn't gotten your way around.
0 To 100 / The Catch up - by Drake came through the speaker.
This DJ knew his set you thought, before excusing yourself from the crowd that had embraced you. Feeling the need for a switch of environment you made your way to the bar. On your way, you drunkly greeted a few familiar faces, Bella Hadid and what looked like some actors who had come down for the Grand Prix.
Sitting on an empty stool at one of the bars in the Amber Lounge you asked the bartender for a glass of your favourite, gin. Your head nodded to the beat, it pounded hard. You knew you were more than tipsy at that point, but there was no sign of slowing down.
"Ayo! Bring us a bottle of your most expensive Prosecco!" You heard a voice yell through a line of people standing at the bar. A familiar voice.
His voice sang along to the lyrics, you were tempted to turn around to check who was yelling right behind your ear but your motion to turn was interrupted by the glass of gin you had requested being brought to you.
As you fiddled with the purse that hung around your shoulder, looking for your card, the familiar voice spoke again: "I've got that for you. On my tab, Mikey!" This time much closer to you.
You turned to your left, wanting to finally put a face to the voice your alcohol-filled brain didn't seem to recognise. Looking at the 5'9 figure standing next to you, it hit you that: you had failed to engage with any driver during the Grand Prix except for one.
It was more than obvious that you weren't going to be at the Mercedes garage and not meet their prominent stars. Lewis Hamilton and Valtteri Bottas. It was Qualifying day and after an amazing performance from both drivers, Toto, at the request of your dad had introduced you to his prodigies. You had gotten the chance to meet the drivers and congratulate them both for their front-row quali positions.
Bottas was the quiet one, after meeting you and your dad he excused himself to his driver room. Lewis was more of a personality, he knew your dad from reading about him and their conversation seemed to flow from F1 to business to possible future lunch meetings. He glanced at you from time to time, the conversation didn't interest you but he somewhat did.
You knew Lewis was quite the party boy and a ladies man, it suited his champion attitude, so seeing him at the club did not surprise you at all. He had won the Grand Prix you remembered, your mind doing a little backflip to being at the back of the garage and giving him a quick hug after your dad had burst into "here's the man of the evening" compliments.
Your altered system forced you to bite your lip at the thought of Lewis Hamilton standing in front of you.
"Hey, it's you!" His eyes widened at the realisation, his breath smelled like nothing but expensive alcohol. He was drunk as a skunk, and to your liking, he looked extremely hot.
You widened your eyes jokingly, following his cue. "It is I!" you laughed slightly, trying to mock his accent.
"I met you on Saturday, no? Your dad is Toto's friend. What's your name again?" He grabbed the Prosecco bottle that had been handed to him and moved an inch closer to you.
"Yep, that's my dad! Y/N!" you yelled through the gap left between the two of you.
"And what's a beautiful girl like you doing in the club all by herself?" He asked before singing to a few lyrics of the song that currently burst through the speakers that were placed at the bar.
"Enjoying herself." You grabbed your glass and, nodding at him as a thank you for the drink, you stepped down the stool and made your way to the dance-floor. Nervously nibbling on your bottom lip at your choice of words you wondered if a little mystery was enough to keep Lewis interested.
Your hips moved at the sound of Ginza by J Balvin and almost immediately, you felt a body swaying along with yours. Him.
Lewis took a sip of the Prosecco bottle he was meant to take back to his group of friends as his own hips fell in somewhat of a sync with yours, his free hand grabbing your left thigh pulling you closer to his body. His motion felt like a cue for you to bend slightly and begin to grind on the "man of the evening", he deserved a little fun after the hard-work he put out on the track.
Eyes started turning to you two, as your bodies got carried away by the effects of the alcohol you had been consuming. You shrugged out the thought of being watched. If Lewis was comfortable, you were too.
"Y yo hoy estoy aquí imaginando. Sexy baila y me deja con las ganas" Lewis sang along to J Balvin but he sang it so close to your ear, he knew it was meant just for you to listen. His raspy voice sent chills down your spine, you didn't know what the words meant but he made them sound sexy and it empowered you. You chewed on your bottom lip as the DJ switched songs and moving away from him you sipped on your gin, cheering at the former drivers that had put you in the mood to party, who shot you back just as happy glances.
"Come to my table! Let's have some fun!" Lewis' drunk voice echoed through the pounds of your head. He was quick to grab your arm and pull you through the crowd to a more secluded area.
"Y/N everyone!!" He yelled once you approached a group of what looked like more mature and older people. Everyone turned their heads at the two of you and cheered loudly at Lewis' introduction of you, almost as if they were celebrating you tonight.
Daniel Ricciardo. Winnie Harlow. Neymar Jr were some of the faces you were able to recognise at first glance, everyone seemed as slapped as you, some of the girls were high as kites twerking on anything they could put their asses to. Now this was more your vibe.
As the night went on; more drinks came, you danced and enjoyed yourself. Sexual tension between you and Lewis had become hard to ignore and the amount of alcohol in your body had you craving him... all over you.
It's now or never you thought to yourself.
Downing your, God knows what number, cup you looked at Lewis who found himself having fun with his mates, his smile widely spread across is face, revealing his perfectly sharpened canine teeth.
If anything, we blame it on the alcohol.
You mentally thanked the Dj as Wild Thoughts by DJ Khaled started playing. Lewis' eyes darkened as he noticed you approaching him. Your dress hugged your body perfectly, making your figure hard to look away from. In a blink of an eye you had found your groins against one another's grinding on each other to the beat.
As the song went on, Lewis spun you around, having you against him drove him crazy. His hips thrusted your back, his fingers digging the skin on your thigh. He licked his lips at the thought of you, and almost as if he had been waiting for this moment the whole night, his lips met your bare shoulder.
Without ungluing his figure to yours, his tongue slowly traced your neck, sending chills down your spine. "Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He mumbled in between kisses on your bare skin. He didn't have to win you over with compliments, he already had you.
You could feel death glares from Lewis' female guests because of the moment you and the world champion were sharing. You used the uncomfortable stares as your cue to leave, turning to Lewis for the first time in what seemed like a long night, you stared into his - slightly droopy from the alcohol - brown eyes. Your arms automatically swung to his neck, he had yet another bottle in his hand but did not hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist.
"I don't think your friends are enjoying this little show we're putting on" You mumbled, signalling to the ladies who stood in the corner. Your eyes went from staring into his to looking at his lips, your breathing had become intense as you felt Lewis's body awfully close to yours, his member slowly caressing your upper thigh. He licked his lips, noticing how badly you stared. At that point of the night neither of you could contain how much you craved one another.
"They don't have to watch" Lewis whispered, shooting a quick glance at the models who seemed rather upset with his lack of attention on them; back to you, before grabbing your arm and pulling you through a back door that was close to the VIP area you were in, he mumbled: "I know a place".
You found yourself stumbling through the front entrance of a rather fancy building. Lewis lived conveniently close to the Amber Lounge, and in no time, his body guards had escorted the two of you to the penthouse.
Thanking his driver, you made your way into the elevator, and as soon as the doors shut close, Lewis had you pinned against the back wall. His eyes darkened again, his breathing hard over your lips.
Even drunk as a skunk, he looked and smelled amazing.
You watched him bite his lip as he leaned closer, making you crave his lips on yours even more.
It felt like heaven. When Lewis finally crashed his lips on to yours, his body weight causing you to lean further against the wall... it felt like heaven.
You groaned as the kiss didn't last as much as you wished to, the ding from the elevator interrupting it.
You were given no time to take in the surroundings of Lewis' perky home. He placed his arms on your hips and you automatically straddled him, the heat was back like it had never left, your lips were on his yet again. He kissed you so passionately you thought he was compensating from not doing it earlier. He knew his way through his home, and as your tongues met, he quickly found his way through his living room to his astounding suite.
Lewis dropped you on his bed, his eyes filled with lust and hunger. Behind him, the view of Monaco’s nightlife and beach shone through his large windows, the moonlight setting the perfect ambiance for what seemed like an exciting night for the both of you.
Your thoughts were distracted by Lewis’s touch. He had quickly removed his shirt and tossed it aside, his fingers now rested on top of your wet panties, his thumb caressing your clit. His body hoovered over yours, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, allowing your body to feel Lewis’ movements on your area.
“Look at me” He demanded, his voice as deep as you’d ever hear it. “You’re so wet” He mumbled once your eyes obediently met his. Starving for him inside of you, you pulled your dress up your waist not once breaking eye contact, which caused Lewis to smirk. He attacked your neck, sucking and nibbling on your bare skin, his fingers slid your panties to the side, and with a small bite to your neck he inserted two fingers into you. You gasped at his sudden movement and your walls clenched in pleasure.
“Fuck!” Lewis muttered as he felt your juices coating his fingers. As instinct your knees bent, allowing Lewis to get a better grip of your inside walls. He picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. As your moans started getting louder, you feared Lewis had neighbours so you instantly bit your lip trying to contain your pleasure-filled screams.
“L-Lewis” you stumbled on your words, he knew just how deep to thrust and how much to curl his fingers. You longed for him inside you, your fingernails digging his tattooed back and your head titled back.
“Yes, baby?” He was enjoying watching you squirm in pleasure, his member hardening at the sound of your voice in his room.
"Don't make me wait" you pleaded, not being able to contain your hormones any longer. You wanted him inside you: “I want you. I want you to cum with me”
As if your wish was his command, Lewis’ drunk figure moved his hand away, he stood in front of the bed, and you took the moment to remove your dress, revealing your perfectly shaped and tanned body. Lewis, on his turn dropped his jeans. Both of you stood in awe of one another for awhile, hunger rising. He observed your breasts, and you engulfed the length of his now erect shaft.
You slowly removed your panties and dangled it in front of him, teasing the man that was going to eat you alive, the room smelled like expensive cologne and Prosecco. Lewis jaw hardened, his tattoos made his muscles more prominent... You just wanted to dig your fingernails on his biceps at that stance. He grabbed the panties off your hand and threw them to the side along with your dress and swiftly made his way on top of you. Cupping your breast with one hand, his thumb played with your nipple whilst the other filled his mouth. You lowered your hand and began to stroke Lewis’ cock; as soft and deep moans leaving his throat, your spine shivered.
“I want you so bad” You whispered, placing Lewis right at your entrance, the tip of him rubbing against your wet and now throbbing clit.
“How bad, baby?” He asked, pecking your lips. With his voice in a demanding whisper, you were quick to realise how much of a tease Lewis was, he enjoyed making his victims beg for him. He knew how good he was.
“So… so bad” You moaned into his lips. Just as much as Lewis, you knew what you wanted and you too knew how good you were. Not wanting to waste another second you took charge, placing his shaft at your entrance you helped him penetrate you. Lewis broke the kiss he had engaged in with you, a loud moan leaving his mouth once he felt how tight you were.
It took you a second to adjust to Lewis’ length as he made his way in and out of you, although intoxicated, he noticed your slight discomfort: “Are you alright?” he questioned, his furry brows tightening.
“Shh… don’t stop” You reassured him. With your hand around his neck you brought his head down to yours, you had grown to love his soft lips around the flesh of your neck. At your call, Lewis lowered his weight on to you and steadily picked up the pace. Every thrust brought you closer to an orgasm, his cock rubbing on your perfect spot.
You clenched your walls, digging your nails through his tattooed back. “Fuuuck!” You heard Lewis scream in absolute pleasure at the tightness around him. Lewis’ thrusts became deeper and faster, his forehead had grown sweaty, the room steamy. As he picked up his pace, all you could hear was small grunts from his perfectly sound voice and the clapping of his thighs against yours.
“I’m gonna cum” He moaned through shortened breaths. His warning brought you to your dominance senses. The thought of having Sir Lewis Hamilton begging you to cum extolled your ego. Without thinking twice you shifted your weight to the side, motioning what was well understood by Lewis. It was your turn to be on top.
Lewis, at the realisation that he was sleeping with a woman who knew what she wanted, eagerly obeyed and placed himself closer to the headboard of his king sized bed, not minding that you had interrupted his almost-orgasm.
Feeling good about impressing the seven-time world champion you slowly crawled up to the man that looked at you so hungrily, lust in his eyes only becoming more and more visible. His jaw clenched again as you straddled his waist, his now, thanks to you, cream-full cock entering your threshold again. Another loud moan, this time from the both of you. You bent over slightly, placing your hands on Lewis’ shoulders for support as you started bouncing on him.
“Just like that baby” He sang to you, one hand was tightly wrapped around your neck, and the other slapped your ass as hard as he could bring himself to. It drove you crazy, it made you want more of him in you.
Your breathing had gotten harder and your forehead had met his. “I want you to cum for me” You demanded. Lewis knew he was close to his finish line, but wanted you to finish with him. As you seemed to enjoy, he kept his veiny and robust hand around your neck, giving it light squeezes every time he felt you really deep.
His free hand moved to your clit and you shot your head back in utter pleasure.
“Right there… Keep it right there” You begged, knowing exactly what was going to happen in the next thirty seconds. Lewis, in satisfaction, rubbed on your throbbing bud whilst his own hardened at every movement of yours. His teeth met his bottom lip and his eyes fell shut. You knew he was ready to release, but you weren’t going to let him off easy.
“Look at me” You called. Your ego growing with every sign of obedience from Lewis. His eyes watered a little, you knew you had him, and every thrust brought you both closer to your orgasm.
“Baby…” he whispered, his hand still in circular motions around your clit, his grip becoming weaker “Please” he begged, at no point breaking the eye contact you called for. Pleased with his submission, you mumbled: "Don't stop", and he understood the assignment. You both picked up the pace, his finger on your wet clit in circular motions and you on top of his cock, bouncing up and down.
Before you could say knife you felt your legs shaking, your whole body trembled as you released all your juices on Lewis' hand and cock, a loud moan leaving your throat, your voice echoing in the penthouse.
Sorry neighbours.
And with no time to digest the wonders that Lewis had done to your body, he quickly pushed you off him and you obeyed, his pulsating cock releasing right then and there, on his six-pack filled torso.
You were both breathing heavily, laying on your backs. The comfort of Lewis' bed took you in, your head pounding again from the intoxication, the large amount of alcohol still in your system. He chuckled slightly at the turn of events of that Monaco GP Sunday, his gaze never leaving his ceiling.
Eager and starving for more of you, Lewis found in his deep breaths strength to ask: "When do you leave?"
#f1 imagines#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagines#f1 x reader#short fiction#short story#formula one imagine
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hypothetically | Chapter 1-5
summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.
friends to lovers, case of the week style story
A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.
Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy
Word Count: 15k
chapter 1
It took Y/N longer than she had hoped to finally catch up to him. He seemed to go from the cute little boy with a bow tie who sat beside her in her kindergarten class to working for the FBI by the time she graduated high school. It wasn’t fair that he happened to be smarter than anyone on earth, causing him to test out of elementary school before she even got to know him.
Spencer Reid had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the sweetest personality to match. Y/N saw him around as he grew up, coming home to see his mom often and minding his business as he wandered around in his free time.
He liked to sit on the swings at the abandoned park across the street from her house, it was a place he would go to at the most random hours of the day for years on end. Every time he was in the area, he visited the swing. And She’d watch him from her window seat in her bedroom. Pretending to read, but really she was watching him read.
It was years of watching, from the ages of 13 to 18 when he was coming back and forth from working on his second Ph.D., and she was still trying to make it through high school.
But she never walked out there and talked to him, she knew nothing real about him other than his name and that he was smart. The town told rumours about him being an alien or a government experiment because there was no way a kid could be so smart, but she never believed them. She liked to keep to the idea that he was sweet, smart, and special.
He stopped coming to the swing for a while after they turned 18, her mother had said something about Spencer Reid’s mother being admitted to the nursing home she worked at and y/n drew the conclusion that he’d finally left the small Nevada town she was seemingly trapped in.
Y/N kept tabs with him online, as weird as it felt to her she had a strange sense of pride when it came to Spencer’s achievements. That was the kid she sat beside in kindergarten out there working for the FBI, saving lives and changing the world. It inspired her.
So sure enough, when she moved to Virginia to join the FBI academy it was the perfect opportunity to finally be on an even playing field with him. An excuse to reach out to him and catch up, get to know him. She was technically older than him, by 10 months, and yet somehow he seemed to feel unreachable, wiser and more of an adult than she ever would be.
At 28 she finally bumps into him again. She’s carrying boxes into her new apartment with help from a moving company when he leaves the apartment across the hall from her.
“Oh my gosh, Spencer Reid?” she said with the biggest smile spreading across her face.
“Hi?” he says, not having any clue who she is.
“You might not remember me, I’m Y/N Y/L/N we were in kindergarten together in Nevada?”
He takes a moment to think, she watches his eyes flutter as he recalls the memory to his mind. She is mesmerized by how his brain works, like a filing cabinet he can just pull memories out. “Oh, yes we sat together the first day and you got in trouble later that afternoon for adding water to the sand because I had said it was too dry to build a model of the Pyramid of Giza.”
Her smile gets even bigger, “yes! I hope this isn’t weird but I’ve kept up with you over the years, I’ve always thought it was so amazing that someone from my town was off doing incredible things! I can’t believe I’m moving in across from you that makes it look so much worse oh god, I promise I’m not stalking you!” She rambled anxiously.
He laughed, “it’s okay I believe you! I’m surprised honestly that you remember me, we were what? 5? That’s a good memory you must have?”
She walked over to him and out of the way of the men moving her boxes into her apartment, that’s what she was paying them for anyway. She set the box down on the floor beside herself to free her arms, “I think your first ever friend would leave an impact on your memory.”
“We did have a good bond before I was transferred out,” he recalls with a smile.
“Well,” she smiled right back, “I also work with the FBI if you want to get coffee before work on Monday and catch up? See if there’s a possibility of being friends once again?”
“Yeah!” he answers abruptly, “I leave around 7:15 normally and I always go to the little cafe down the road, what department are you in?”
“VICAP,” she said, “just a floor above the BAU, surprised I’m only running into you now”
“You sure you’re not stalking me?” he joked.
She shook her head lightly, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. “Promise, just inspired by you, that’s all.”
He chuckled to himself, almost shocked that such a lovely person would be inspired by him. “Well, thank you. I’ll let you get back to moving in and I will see you on Monday Y/N.” he said with a small wave and walked down the corridor.
She sighed to herself, this was going to be amazing.
---
Y/N had barely unpacked anything by the time Monday had rolled around. She spent most of her time working on her bedroom organization, leaving a mess of boxes everywhere else. Going through her closet to find the best outfit for her first-morning commute with Spencer.
Her job didn’t require as much fieldwork as he did, so she could wear anything she wanted to the office as long as it was professional. She settled on black flared dress pants, a nice white turtleneck, the watch her family gave her when she graduated from the academy and her cute healed wedge boots.
She grabbed her purse and wallet, ensuring she had her keys and badge in there before unlocking her safe and clipping her gun to her belt. She grabbed her go bag and coat and draped them over one arm, holding her purse in the other.
With everything she needed, she walked to her front door, turning off her alarm just to change the setting to protect her empty apartment. She closed and locked the door behind herself just as Spencer walked out into the hallway.
“Good morning Spencer,” she said, cheerful as ever.
“You’re awfully cheerful for this time of day,” he yawned after speaking.
“Late night?” she asked, joining him as he walked towards the building entrance.
“We had an emergency case this weekend that kicked my ass, I’ve only been home for 15 hours. Hopefully, today is just a desk day,” he yawned again. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re tired as well, from moving this weekend.”
“Oh I’m exhausted, normally I don’t leave till quarter to 8, living farther away now is going to suck a bit.”
“At least our building is nice,” he adds.
“It seems wonderful so far.” He held the door for her as they walked into the parking lot, he dug her keys from her bag, “do you want to take my car?”
“Sure, seeing as I don’t have a car, I normally take the subway,” he said softly, walking to the passenger side and opening the door as he heard the door unlock.
“Well if you want a ride every morning I don’t mind, even If you need rides to emergency cases,” she smiled softly.
Spencer insisted on buying her coffee, saying it was only fair for driving him. But really it was because he wanted to spoil her, ever since she said she was inspired by him his mind hasn’t been able to stop playing that sentence on loop. He’s completely enamoured by her, willing to do whatever it takes to get on her good graces. Not realizing she’s willing to do the same for him.
In no time she’s pulling up to the main building, both of them showing their badges before being allowed access into the parking structure of their building. Y/N parked close to the main elevator, having impeccable luck with getting that spot in the garage.
“We still have time before we’re officially on the clock, if you wanted to come meet my team?” He offered, hitting the button in the elevator for floor 3. His floor.
“I’d love to meet the legend that is Penelope Garcia,” she smiled.
“She is wonderful,” he agreed with a smile.
The elevator dinged and she felt her heart drop into her stomach thinking of how Spencer was going to introduce her. He walked with her towards the glass doors, holding them open for her as she walked into the bullpen.
All eyes were suddenly on Spencer and Y/N, so many faces she’s never seen before, and 2 she knows too well from her research on the BAU. She smiled lightly as she walked towards them all. Spencer not far behind her.
“Good morning,” Spencer smiled a small pressed-lipped smile. “This is agent Y/N Y/L/N, she works up in VICAP, she was one of my best friends in elementary school.”
She smiled, so that’s how. “Hello!” She waved, “It’s so nice to meet you all,”
“Derek Morgan,” the tall dark and handsome one reached his hand out for yours.
“Oh, I don’t shake hands sorry,” she said, grabbing her right middle finger with her left hand and smiling lightly.
He laughed, “wow pretty boy, how come you never told us you have a twin?”
“Do you not shake hands either?” She asked him, “we really do have a lot of catching up to do Spence.”
“Emily Prentiss, it’s lovely to see Spence bring in new friends.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve always admired the BAU, I’ve actually compiled a few of the cases you’ve worked on this year, I’m pretty good at finding patterns even the system overlooks.”
“Oh yes, Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve seen your name on all the emails, thank you you’ve sent some of the best-connected cases to us, you’ve brought justice to people who we would have never connected to cases,” JJ said enthusiastically, “I was actually just about to tell Hotch about the newest one you sent me.”
“It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’ve been carefully looking over this case for 2 years now I knew you’d all be able to help with it. It’s right up your ally,” she nervously laughed.
“You sent in the files on the family annihilator that was going after people he believed to be decedents of Cain from the bible right?” David Rossi asked.
She nodded her head and sighed, “yeah everyone told me it was a stretch to catch onto but when I noticed all the men were from the same online ancestry family tree I knew you guys needed to see it.”
“That was specifically interesting, the death of his own brother led him to seek revenge on the father of murder,” Spencer agreed.
“So what’s this new one you’ve brought us?” Derek asked.
“Oh, would you like to pitch it to us? We’re all here we can meet you in the briefing room before your shift starts upstairs?” JJ offered.
“Oh sure,” she smiled, finally it was her time to show off.
Soon enough, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia and Jenifer Jareau were all staring at you in the briefing room.
“In Wichita Kansas, there have been a string of murders over the last 6 years that have all been incredibly, creepily similar,” she started explaining as she handed out the case files to everyone.
“Each victim is female, 16 to 24, they’ve all been strangled with rope while completely naked, signs of brutal sexual assault, binding and torture. They’ve all been found wrapped in shower curtains and placed in various public locations. Clearly a sign of remorse with how he keeps them covered but still a taunt that we can’t find him even now that he’s 6 victims deep.”
“Clarise Richardson, victim number 1 was raped, strangled with rope and left by an underpass. She was found in 1998, the M.E said she was dead 16 hours when they found her, COD was asphyxiation. Her family reports she was last seen at least 73 hours before she was found. So he kept her for a while. There were fibres under her nails of green carpet, either she was held at someone's house or in a van with carpet like they had in the 70s and 80s.”
“Were there any fingerprints or DNA on the bodies?” Prentiss asked.
“Yes, there was a sperm sample retrieved on victim number 5, Sharon Flynn. Most likely he wore a condom for the rest of his rapes and he wasn’t in the system already. Either he never ejaculated in earlier rapes before he grew to murder or his victims never came forward before 1998.”
“which is highly likely, we saw in the EARs case in California how hard it was to get the men and women who were raped to even come forward. There were 4 confirmed cases in the news before more came forward with similar stories. It’s seen as a shameful thing when in reality it’s just giving them more power if they believe they’ll never be caught.” Spencer explained.
“Yes, it’s very hard to come forward when it happens to you,” she agreed before quickly hanging subject. “I’ve been searching for any rapes in the area with similar MO, choking, BDSM, ropes, vans with green carpet, and I’ve found 3 women who claimed to be raped by a man at festivals the late 70’s who had an orange van with green carpet who bonded them up in a very intricate form of bondage that tightened every time they squirmed to entice them not to move. And from my research, that's the same pattern of rope as the rope burn on the 6 bodies we have.”
“All 6 of them are fairly similar it’s just their dumpsites that sets them apart. He didn’t have one strict area that he stuck to, he seems to have no problem travelling to them.” Emily said, flipping through the files.
“I’m thinking he has a job the requires him to still use his van. Like a travelling plumber, a phone or computer tech, home surveillance or maybe even he’s with Jehovah's witness or the Mormon church. It would explain him being able to get into these women’s houses and neighbourhoods long enough to pick someone, learn their schedule and grab them.” Y/N explained.
“Garcia, can you look into those businesses, as well as independent contractors, satellite companies, mailmen, and anyone else who might have been on the job by the victim's houses on the dates and times they were last seen,” Hotch asked.
“Absolutely, I’ll also run the DNA samples in my other databases.”
“I was about to ask you to do that, I think he might have children. There is a very large gap between the rapes and the jump to rape and murder, if you could run the saliva sample from victim 3 that's on her neck with any foster system or genealogy company to see if he has a son or uncle we can trace his sample to?”
“That's a great idea, I’ve never thought to do that,” Garcia smiled. “I like you, you’re a smart cookie!”
“Looks like we’re headed to Wichita,” Hotch said. “Do you think VICAP would be mad if we stole you for a few days? You have more connections with the Wichita police than we do, they might cooperate more If they know a friendly face.”
“Absolutely, let me grab my go-bag from upstairs!” Y/N jumped up, “I’ll be right back down!”
“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, And with that, she was out the door.
“Reid if you don’t marry her I will,” Penelope said softly.
“Okay.” He blushed.
—
She took a seat beside Reid on the jet, the two of them chatting amongst themselves for a while before they were called for the second briefing.
“So local PD think they have a recent victim from this weekend they want us to check out,” Penelope said over video chat. “she’s a little different than the others. Katie Newton, 27 was found bound to her bed, already having passed and was being assaulted when her husband came home. He screamed at the guy who was only wearing a ski mask and “tight-y white-y’s” as the husband described. He grabbed his bag and clothes with him but he left her tied up with the little time he had to knock the husband out of the way and run out.”
“Did he get any other identification marks on the unsub?” Y/N asked.
“He said he was pasty white, 5’8 and he didn’t talk. He didn’t scream, nothing, he just grabbed his things and ran. He does however remember he had a very large brown birthmark on his chest covering the right nipple down to his stomach.”
“Okay that’s good to know, why do they think it’s our guy?” Rossi asked.
“Blood found on the rope she was tied up with can match back to 13 different women. 6 of the murders that Y/N brought to us, 1 of the rapes she found and 5 other break-in and rapes of other women in the area.”
“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered to herself.
“Well done on finding this one Y/N, this one is going to be big.” Morgan complimented her with a smile.
“Thanks,” she smiled back, “I didn’t expect any of this when I connected the 6 of them originally. This is insane.”
“have you ever been in fieldwork like this?” Hotch asked.
“At the academy, I was combat trained, I have all my clearances and I’m a great shot. I’m good on my feet and I tested perfectly on hostage talk down.” She tried not to brag but this was almost as important as a job interview.
“Well damn,” Morgan nodded in approval. “We might just have to seal you full time.”
“I wouldn’t mind that at all!”
“Good,” hotch smiled, something he didn’t do often. “I’m going to send you and Reid to the M.E to see what else we can find out about these new break-in homicides. Prentiss and Rossi, I want you to travel to the last dumpsite and the latest crime scene to see what else could connect them. Morgan and JJ come with me to the station to set up communication with the local PD and media we don’t need them naming him like they did with BTK.”
“Garcia, would you also widen the search for anyone convicted of sexual misconduct, flashing, stalking, break-ins where underwear was stolen or and peeping toms? Go all the way back to the 70s. If any of them are now working for any businesses that have vans and require him to travel. This guy has to have a mistake somewhere that you will find.” Y/N asked one last time.
“Got it, genius girl, over and out.”
—-
The bureau had the funds for rooms for the main team, meaning Y/N had to double up with someone and she had to decide who once they landed and headed to the hotel.
“It wouldn’t be weird if we got a room with two queen beds right?” She asked Spencer, “it would give us a chance to catch up in our downtime like a sleepover we never had as kids.” She nervously rambled in the SUV as Reid drove.
“No I don’t mind, It would be fun if we get any sleep in this case. This one seems like it will be a bit of a brain rattler.” Reid agreed with a soft pressed-lipped smile.
They booked their rooms, dropped off their things and all headed their separate ways. The M.E’s office was close to the police station, the two of you in an SUV followed Hotch, JJ and Morgan in another down the road.
The bodies had all been cremated or buried shortly after being found, there wasn’t anything fresh enough to examine for them but they did have access to all the information on all the cases.
“I’ve been the medical examiner here for the last 30 years,” the nice old man said as he led them down the hall to the storage room. “These ones have all been some of the worst cases I’ve seen here. So much so that I keep them all in their own boxes just in case a day like today ever happens.”
“That is very helpful for us thank you so much!” She smiled at him as he held the storage door open.
“They’re all labelled by name and date. If you have any questions about tests or need me to run more with what we have left just give me a holler!” He said as he left the room.
Y/N sighed. “Why do I feel like this is going to take a million years?”
“I can read 20,000 words a minute, it will take me 3 hours to read everything in this room. Luckily we only need to read these few boxes.” Spencer pointed at the wall.
“Okay boy wonder, stop showing off,” she smiled, taking the Victim # 5 case box down first. “She was the first one I put into the system when I joined VICAP.”
“Is that why you sent this case to JJ?”
“Partly,” she sighed again. “There was the emotional attachment of this being my first case but there were just too many connections I knew you guys could bring justice to her family. She was so young.”
Spencer opened a box and she watched as his eyes darted across the pages as he flipped through them. She was mesmerized by how he could do that. But he was probably even smarter than god so it made sense.
“This is interesting. They found LSD in the system of the 3 rapes from back in the day which isn’t that uncommon for the time period or the places where they were abducted, but what’s strange is the amount. This is enough LSD to make someone go insane, no one in their right mind would willingly take this much LSD?” Spencer said.
“They were all found 2 days later dehydrated and alone in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way of knowing if more women didn’t have this happen and died where he left them.”
“He is probably in his 50’s now. How fit would he have to be to still be able to break into houses and rape and murder women?” Spencer asked.
“Well that might be just why he stopped dumping, he might have a bad back and can't lift the dead weight. He is more willing to get caught in someone's house so that he doesn’t have to do the dumping, he can just leave after. 5 of the 6 home invasions were with women who lived alone or husbands who worked night shifts. So they wouldn’t be home. He watched them long enough to know when he could successfully get away with this.” Y/N explained as she flipped through boxes.
“And the rope technique our last victim was found in is exactly the same as the rope burns as the others you’re correct,” Spencer complimented her. “He might have ex-girlfriends or even an ex-wife who he would have tried BDSM on and she didn’t like it, so now he feels like he has to do it this way. When we deliver the profile we should alarm the public about him to draw out any women who would have willingly tried something with our unsub.”
Y/N nodded as he spoke, agreeing with everything. “That could have even been the original stressor, all the women are pretty vanilla, I talked to the husbands over the phone and the original rape victims. They weren’t into trying anything like this in their free time. 2 of the rapes were also virgins. They all had good jobs and good grades, they were outstanding, low-risk members of the community. He might be getting revenge on the women who wouldn’t indulge in this fantasy.”
“He probably feels a lack of control in his personal life, maybe he even has a more dominating wife who he feels he can't stand up to so this is how he deals with it.” Spencer agreed.
“Let's go see Hotch, I think we should deliver the profile.”
—-
They walked into the police station, gliding through the doors like they owned the place. Emily and JJ watched as they walked over to hotch with the exact same energy. Both speaking with their hands and rambling about what they had found.
“So he’s a fit, early 50’s, white male. Married, probably with kids, works with or owns a van. He has a problem with authority in his own life, he feels like he is in a submissive role all day be it from a female boss who’s always on his ass or his wife. It’s possible he even has only daughters and no sons. He feels emasculated, surrounded by women, which is why he started taking these women originally to rape them with BDSM-like acts to finally have that control he lacks in his everyday life.” Y/N explained. “He wouldn’t be very handsome, he would have issues speaking with most women, he keeps to himself, he might have even failed out of jobs involving the police or security, he wants to be in a place of power but he has none of the social skills to accomplish what he wants. I would even look into local army cadets or boy scouts he could be a very old member or the father of someone in one of those groups. His affinity for binding them up and the types of ropes he used are very common BDSM ropes but the knots are reminiscent of ones my brothers would do in at Navy cadets.”
“You got all that from the M.E?” Derek said, shocked at how good she was at this.
“I’ve been staring at his work for 2 years, every time a case from this town came in I checked into it to tie it to this guy. I don’t know what it is but this one gets to me, like BTK or Ed Kemper, these men have specific vendettas against women, they need to dominate women because they have a strong mother or wife in their presence. I know the type of man he is and I want to see him rot in prison.”
Spencer walked over to another table, spreading out a map and beginning to look at the geographical profile. Making down the 3 rapes and their dumpsites, the 6 abducted women and their dumpsites as well as the 6 home invasion homicides. Narrowing down on the geographical profile to find his comfort zone.
Y/N stood beside him watching him draw perfect circles over the map, placing a dot right in the middle. “He either lives or works in this area. Everything is within 35 miles of this area.”
Hotch took out his phone and called Garcia, placing the phone on the table with the speaker on. “Hello my lovelies, what can I do for you?”
“Have you narrowed anything down?” Y/N asked.
“Yes, I have 117 orange vans originally bought in the late ’70s that are still registered to men in this area all between the ages of 45 and 60. 63 of them work in home security, 13 of those have a son in boy scouts and 4 of those have prior peeping tom allegations.” She explained.
“Any of the 4 look interesting?” Hotch asked.
“We have Travis Johnson, 55 he works for Acorn Security, he was doing service in each town that a murder took place the same week they went missing. He is married and has been since 1980 right when he stopped raping and his 5th and last daughter was born the same week that Clarice Richardson was murdered in 1998. They took in a foster child to give him a boy 3 years ago who is in boy scouts, and has all his badges in you guessed it, knot tying.”
“Do we have his home and work address?” Morgan asked.
“Yes of course I do chocolate thunder, they’ve been sent to you already. I’ve also sent a list of his appointments for today, he might be on the hunt.”
“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan smiled at the phone.
“It's what they pay me the big bucks for.”
She hung up and hotch immediately started handing out bullet-proof vests. “Time to catch him.”
Spencer rested a hand on your back as he passed you, smiling as if to say 'good job'.
Y/n grabbed her vest and her go-bag and quickly changed into something more suited for chasing after a runner. It almost always came to that in her experience. She came back out in jeans and a white long sleeve shirt tucked in, her vest on and her hair up. She placed her earpiece in and straightened out her gun. Making sure the clip was full and adding an extra one to her vest.
“Ready?” She asked Spencer as he tightened his vest.
“Let’s do this.”
They split up, Prentiss Rossi and JJ went to his house while Reid, Morgan, Hotch and Y/L/N took a squad of local cops to where the unsub was supposedly doing his house calls.
They slowly drove through the neighbourhoods, lights off just paroling up and down the streets. They saw an orange van parked on the side of the street, they watched as the unsub got out of the driver's seat, grabbing a bag and walking up to a woman’s house. Slowly they all got out of the SUV, Morgan and Hotch taking the back while Reid and Y/L/N took the front door. They waited for confirmation that he wasn’t alone in this home, before going in.
They could hear a woman talking and then there was a scream, “I’m going in,” Y/L/N said, Kicking the door down before Reid took the lead, Y/N following behind him.
“Travis Johnson? FBI!” Spencer yelled.
The two of them cleared the main room, working their way to the hallway, Reid let her take the lead to the bedroom where they heard the struggle.
“Travis put down the rope and let her go,” Y/N said slowly as he walked into the room, gun pointed.
“And why should I?” He panicked, holding the woman against his chest, she was crying gripping onto the rope he was holding tightly around her throat.
“I’m a huge fan of your work!” Y/N said. “I work for VICAP, I’m the one who had to put each and every single one of your victims in the system. I know exactly how much you’re into control and BDSM, it’s honestly surprising that you have to force these women into it, why are women so against letting a big strong man control them anymore?” She said softly as she lowered the gun and her voice.
“You know, I’ve always thought BDSM was super sexy, I’d love to be tied up and taken control of, if you put down the rope how would you like to have a willing participant one day?” She teased him, getting closer and closer, she could see he was rock hard. He loosened the rope and pushed her to the side, stepping forward towards Y/N who quickly flipped him to the floor and cuffed him.
“Travis Johnson you are under arrest for the rape and murder of over 12 women. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one will be appointed for you. If you chose to share anything without a lawyer present you have the right to stop at any time. Is that clear?”
She single handily lifted him to his feet and dragged him out of the room as the men in the hall just watched with awe.
“You’re a little bitch you know that?” The unsub said as he struggled in her grasp.
She slammed him against the hallway wall, pressing right up against his back, whispering in his ear “oh so now you have a big mouth huh, finally feel like you can talk to a woman who isn’t tied down? I’m in control here, you’re my little bitch you hear me? Only good boys get to speak to me.” She said as she pulled him back off the wall and handed him off to local PD. “Have fun being a little bitch in prison Travis.”
She stood there with her arms crossed catching her breath as the adrenalin shook through her body.
“Well done Y/L/N,” Hotch and Morgan put their fists out to give her props.
“How would you like to join the team for good?” Hotch asked? “we’ve been looking for an extra hand.”
“Absolutely!”
—
They were going to spend the night in Wichita, all agreeing to spend the night getting drinks at the local bar suggested by the PD. Piling into the SUV all together with Spencer offering to DD.
“How much time have you put into Travis?” Prentiss asked in the back seat beside Y/N.
“Sharon Flynn was the first case I ever put into my system 2 years ago. Her case looked so gruesome and evil it never left my mind. So then when Alice Webster, number 6 came in I did some more digging and found the 4 before Sharon and the 3 rapes, I knew it was cold for a while but something about him always stuck with me. And for some reason last week when I emailed the info to JJ out of the blue I had a gut feeling he was at it again.” Y/N explained.
“It’s a special talent to just feel when something is wrong.” JJ smiled back at them.
“I’ve always been, not fascinated, by serial killers but more interested in the chase of justice.” She explained, “if that makes sense. I love puzzles and finding answers and at least this way the end result is families finding peace.”
They pulled into the parking lot, all of them finding their way into the bar before the ladies went to the bathroom to freshen up.
“So Y/N,” Prentiss said, taking her phone out and calling Penelope. “The ladies of the BAU are very close, so welcome to our little group.”
“exactly.” Penelope said over the phone, “welcome to the group you’re going to fit right in!” She cheered.
“Thank you, VICAP was not a tight-knit group like y’all are. I’m extremely excited to get to know you all more.” Y/N smiled as she straightened her shirt out in the mirror.
“So you and Spencer?” JJ asked.
“We were in the same kindergarten class,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I thought he was going to be my best friend and then he took some test and was bumped into 4th grade. By the time I was in high school he had already finished his second Ph.D.”
“So you never kept up with each other?” Prentiss asked.
She shook her head. “I knew of him, my mom is the Activities Organizer at the home his mom is at, he used to go to the park across from my house, he now lives across the hall from me and works with me. I think we were always supposed to be friends but it wasn’t the right time till now.”
“Sounds like you have a crush,” Penelope teased through the phone.
“I do.” She smiled to herself. “I think I always have.”
“If pretty boy was here he’d say that there is a statistical likelihood that because you’ve been interested in him for longer than 3 years you’re most likely in love with him and you'll never not be.” Prentiss explained, “I heard him say that to Hotch once.”
She nodded along, “I guess I just need to get him to fall in love with me now.”
“It won't be that difficult.” JJ placed her hand on Y/N’s back and they all made their way out of the bathroom smiling.
The men were all sitting together at a table with everybody’s drinks already waiting.
“We didn’t know what you liked,” Spencer said as Y/N sat beside him. “So I said I’d go get whatever you want.”
“Or we can go up to the bar together.” She smiled.
The two of them got up and walked to the bar, the rest of the team watched them.
She leaned against the bar, ordering her drinks and pressing in close to Spencer. “It’s been so nice getting to spend time with you.” He said softly.
She was handed her drinks before she could even respond. Taking her tequila shot there and bringing her margarita back to the table as Spencer followed swiftly behind her.
They all drank and exchanged case stories from within and beyond the BAU, Spencer was able to add a lot of input but he was always cut off. Y/N leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “you can tell me all your facts later I really want to hear them.” She smiled so softly Spencer felt his heart about to burst in his chest.
Emily left the group to go flirt with the bartender, JJ was on FaceTime in the SUV with Will, Rossi had disappeared with a local woman and Hotch and Morgan were exchanging childhood stories over a beer in the corner.
The bar was playing old, slow music, almost everyone had filtered out but there were still older local couples hanging out and dancing in the middle of the room.
“Do you dance?” Y/N asked Spencer.
“I can try.”
She took his hand and led him to the floor. Drunk on the alcohol and his touch as she slipped his hands around to her back, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head on his chest. She felt his cheek rest on the top of her head as the two of them just swayed in a circle together.
“Do you have any other memories of me?” Y/N asked him softly.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “You lived across the street from the park, and your mom works at the nursing home. You have 2 younger brothers who have always looked older than you. They would come and go when I was sitting on the lone swing and I’d always see you in the window reading. I knew you were my age but it still never felt right for me to talk to you when I was in university.”
“I watched you every time you were on the swings, you looked so peaceful. You read at least a book a day every time you were out there and it became so special to me seeing you there every weekend.” She explained.
“The world works in mysterious ways.” He explained.
She held him as close as she could. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect her day to go like this. She expected coffee and a weird goodbye in the elevator and staring at a computer screen all day. Somehow she ended up in Spencer's arms in a different state after having caught the serial killer that's haunted her dreams for years.
He rubbed his thumb lightly over her back, “do you want to go back to the hotel? We have an early flight.” He whispered.
“Yeah,” she smiled pulling back but reaching down to hold his hand as they walked over to Hotch and Morgan.
They drove home quietly, everyone in the back was happily drunk and tired. They parked and wandered up to their rooms, saying goodbye at their doors and disappearing into their rooms.
Spencer let her take the bathroom first, changing into her PJ’s and then he did the same. She laid in her bed, facing his as he sat up and read.
“Can I come lie beside you?” She asked, knowing exactly how needy she sounded.
He nodded, pulling the sheet back so she could slip right in. She laid on her side and just looked up at him. Absolutely astounded that she was with him.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Spencer asked, putting his book down and sliding down the bed to be on her level.
“Yeah?” She said nervously.
“Today you said it’s hard for people to come forward after they are assaulted, it sounded like personal experience and I wanted you to know if you need anyone, I’m always available for you.” He explained.
“Oh,” her face dropped. “I was 12, he was 15. You were in high school at the same time as him. I don’t know if you’d remember him, his name was Christopher.”
Spencer nodded along as she spoke. “When my mom finally went back to work she didn’t trust me watching my brothers alone so her friend offered to babysit us during the days. Her foster son took advantage of me the whole summer and when my parents finally found out he went into Sophomore year and told everyone that the nerdy girl who looks like bugs bunny was obsessed with him, that I stalked him and that anything I said about him wasn’t real.”
“I’m so sorry.” He rubbed his hand over her shoulder to soothe her.
“It’s okay, they used to call me bugs bunny because of my overbite. I used to rest my front teeth on my front lip and they would throw carrots at me,” she explained further.
“It all makes sense now,” he said softly.
“What does?”
“When I was 13 the seniors had a cheerleader invite me onto the football field and convinced me to strip down to my underwear, she was about to kiss me when all the football guys ran out and beat me up, they tied me to the goal post and the one said ‘we should really hook you up with bugs bunny, you losers would be perfect together.’ And they left me there all night long.”
“Oh Spencer I am so sorry,” she cuddled in close to him, placing her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I think we went through our traumas separately all these years because something bigger than us knew we’d need each other one day.”
“When we get back to Virginia, would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked.
“I would want nothing more.” She hugged him a bit tighter.
They stayed like that for a while until Spencer felt Y/N slip into the night's slumber. He quietly reached for the lamp, turning it off and readjusting himself under Y/N’s grasp.
He fell asleep not so long after. Both sleeping soundly for the first time in a long time.
Chapter 2
They had 3 back to back cases once they arrived back at Quantico. They travelled from DC to California to North Carolina within 2 weeks of Y/N working with the BAU.
Meaning she had not yet gone on that date Spencer asked her out on.
“If we get another call as soon as I reach that elevator I am leaving and not coming back. I am exhausted,” Emily said as she packed her bag and all but sprinted for the door.
“I hope my car still runs, it’s been parked here for so long now,” Y/N added and she walked towards the door. “You coming Spence?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car,” he said with a smile as he waved her off.
Emily and Y/N waited for the elevator, Penelope and JJ quickly followed behind them with their bags in their hands. Penelope’s heels clicked as fast as they could against the floor as she tried to catch up.
“Girls night?” JJ asked, “Will said Henry is asleep and he’s about to go to bed too, so I’m free for a bit?”
“I have to go home, I’ve barely moved into my new apartment, I still have to unpack,” Y/N explained.
“How about we come have some wine and help you?” Emily offered.
“If I’m being honest, I kinda want some alone time with Spencer.” She blushed bright red.
“Oooooo,” Penelope and JJ teased.
“It’s about time someone gave Spencer the attention he deserves,” Emily laughed.
“Believe me he’s going to get too much attention now that I live across the hall from him, work with him and carpool with him,” she giggled right back. “Has he never had a girlfriend before?”
“Not that we know of,” JJ said, “he’s very quiet.”
“Have you?” Penelope asked, “dated before that is?”
“oh no, I’ve never dated anyone before, I haven’t even kissed anyone in years,” she said feeling bashful and embarrassed.
“I think that's what Spencer needs though,” Emily added, “He needs someone on the same level as him all ‘round, you two match in every sense it’s almost perfect.”
“He’s probably the only man who doesn’t make me feel scared like I want my first real love to be with someone I feel safe with, I don’t think I could do anything with like, Morgan or Hotch or any men like them. They’re nice, yeah but the aggressive authority side isn’t something I’m comfortable around outside of work.” She explained.
“Yeah, Spencer is a sweetheart. I think that’s why I didn’t end up with him honestly.” JJ said softly, “Gideon tried to hook us up years ago cause we were the youngest on the team, but I do crave that authority outside of work.”
“It’s probably because you’re in power here. You handle the media, you wear the pants and you get shit done,” Y/N said, “you want to go home and be taken care of by a man who knows how to run a household.”
“Exactly!” JJ laughed.
“I want to be taken care of, yes, but I rather be the caretaker at home. I just want someone who will do their own thing with me in the same room, to kiss me before we go to bed and make sure I know they love me.” Y/N said softly, only picturing a life with Spencer as she said it.
The elevator never moved the whole time they were in there, it dinged and opened to Spencer and Morgan waiting. “You guys are that tired you didn’t even make it to your cars?” Morgan teased.
“didn’t even push the button actually,” Y/N chimed in.
“We were having girl time,” Penelope smiled.
“well let’s go home finally,” Morgan and Spencer walked in, pressing the button to the garage and riding down in silence.
Spencer waited for Y/N to exit the elevator last before walking with her to her car. She unlocked it and got in, watching and waving as her new friends pulled out of the garage.
“Ready?” She asked, pulling out as soon as she saw Spencer nod his head with his cute little pressed-lip smile.
They drove home in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet for the first time in weeks. The drive was quick, 30 minutes in the cold, dark, Virginia wilderness.
She parked in their parking lot, yawning as she turned the car off. She grabbed her purse from the back seat and made her way inside with Spencer.
“You going to sleep?” She asked him when they reached her door.
“Probably not, my brain is still too caught up in the cases,” he said honestly.
“Would you like to come in for some tea? To calm down before bed?” She offered as she unlocked her door.
She stepped inside, unlocking the alarm with the 4 digit code. Spencer tried his best not to listen but he failed, he’ll remember the sound of the code forever now.
She flicked on the light and looked around at the mess she left in her living room. “God I forgot it’s a mess in here,” she groaned.
Spencer followed her inside, following her lead and dropping his bag on the floor. He watched as Y/N walked around the house with her hand on her gun, clearing each room to make sure it was still safe.
“Sorry, I live alone, I don’t take any chances,” she said as she came back into the room.
She unlocked her safe and placed her work gun inside, closing it and spinning the lock right after. She let out a deep sigh, stretching her arms out over her head. “It’s so nice to be back in this mess.”
“I can help you unpack this weekend?” Spencer offers.
“If you want to that would be nice, I’ll order us some take out too.”
She picked up the boxes on her couch and moved them to the floor, she cleared off her coffee table and took the lamps out of the box in the corner. She plugged them into the wall and set them on the end tables. Luckily her furniture was in place all she had to do was put out all her little trinkets, books and photos.
Spencer took a seat on her couch, opening a box with mugs and cups, taking them all out of their bubble wrapping and setting them on the coffee table.
Y/N managed to find her kettle, as well as the box of random food she brought from her old cupboard. She set out a variety of teas and digestive biscuits.
Spencer slowly brought the mugs over, placing them in the cupboard of Y/N’s choosing, making sure he left 2 mugs out for them.
“Can I have a green tea?” Spencer asked softly.
“Of course, is it your favourite?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I would like some caffeine but I’m not interested in having a coffee, so this is a good middle ground.”
“I’m not a fan of most hot drinks, that's why I drink ice coffee in the mornings,” Y/N poured the hot water into both cups, leaving room for milk in both mugs just in case. “But, Orange Pekoe is my favourite.”
She placed a tea bag in each mug and handed Spencers to him.
She watched him add a little sugar to his mug before picking it up and returning to the sofa. She followed him shortly after adding milk and sugar to her own, as well as a plate of cookies.
She sighed as she settled in to the couch. “Going to try my hardest to manifest a full weekend off, with no cases, if my spirit guides loved me they will listen.” She jokes.
“You’re spiritual?” He asks.
“A little?” She shrugs, “I’m very into natural medicine, lunar cycles, manifesting and affirmations. Basically what would be considered a witch back in the day.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Yeah,” she smiled. “I had a pretty invasive surgery when I was 17, and because of the body trauma, I developed fibromyalgia. And there really aren’t any answers or explanations for it so I had to turn to something to bring me peace and pain relief.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through that.”
“It’s okay, eating right, taking my supplements, sleeping and exercise help. Basically, if I take care of myself my body will thank me,” she huffed out a small laugh. “It’s annoying waking up in pain randomly for no reason. I rather wake up sore from taking down an unsub, at least then, the pain is more like a reward, you know?”
Spencer nodded along and smiled softly, “I’m glad you found something that helps you.”
“How about you? I’m guessing you’re a science-only man?”
He laughed, “yes.”
“So do you believe in soulmates?” She asked on a whim.
“In the scientific sense of the word yes. I believe when the big bang happened, all the atoms, electrons and particles that split to make the universe as we know it, still exist in us today. Who’s to say that they don’t pull back to each other, causing a cosmic connection,” Spencer explained softly, his voice low as he explained himself.
Y/N set her drink down, moving in closer to him on the couch. “And how do you know when you’ve met your other half?” She asked. Her voice was just as low.
Spencer set his mug down as well, he placed his warm hand on her cheek, “I think everything would just make sense with them. They’d orbit each other's lives for so long, observing and acknowledging one another and finally one day they’ll connect.”
He leaned in and pressed his perfectly soft lips against hers. She reached her hand around the back of his neck and held him into the kiss. Breathing in deeply through her nose, trying to keep the moment forever.
She pulled back, her breathing was deep as she opened her eyes to look into his. “If you weren’t just explaining the big bang to me, I’d think that was it.”
He laughed at her joke, making both of their hearts soar. She pressed him back against the sofa, adjusting themselves so that she was lying partially on top of him as they cuddled in her crowded living room.
They could hear the sound of the world going on around them. The subtle hum of the subway below them. The distant car horns, someone upstairs was walking around in their apartment.
They were completely quiet then, just cuddled up in their own world without any distractions. The two of them let their hands wander each other as they laid there.
Y/N slowly sat up, peeling herself out of Spencer's grip. “Do you want to spend the night here?”
“I’m just going to run across the hall and get ready for bed, I can lock up when I come back?” He said softly.
“Okay, the button with the person inside the house is the one you hold down on the alarm system after you lock both locks,” she explained before standing up and walking into her bedroom.
She changed into a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. She brushed her teeth and hair, throwing it up in a little bun. She took out her contacts, replacing them with her glasses. She washed her face, watered her plants and sat down in her bed finally.
She had her hand on her night side drawer, where she keeps her other gun, just in case the person coming into her house wasn’t Spencer. But then she heard the alarm system arm, both locks clicked, the sound of dishes being placed in the sink and finally the sound of a lamp being clicked off.
Spencer slipper clad feet against the hardwood floor is all she heard as he walked into her room. He took the right side of the bed, wearing his PJ bottoms and a regular t-shirt. It was really the first time she was him so dressed down.
She settled down into the bed, she put her glasses on her side table, plugged in her phones and turned out the light. Spencer spooned into her, cuddling in tight and holding her against his chest.
“Goodnight, Spencer.” She whispered.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
She didn’t fall asleep right away. She basked in the glory that was Spencer Reid’s warm embrace. The feeling of his breath against her neck and his hand on her stomach.
“I love you.” Was the last thing she thinks she heard before she finally fell asleep.
—
She woke up to her phone ringing. She reached over to the nightstand and clicked talk. “SSA Y/L/N,” she said.
“Hey, it’s Penelope.”
“What’s up?”
“Not a case don’t worry, I was just wondering if I could stop by with some iced coffee and breakfast sandwiches to help you unpack?” She asked way too cheerfully for whatever time it was.
“Uh yeah just give us a chance to wake up, can you come by in 30?” She said as she rubbed her eyes, waking up.
“Us?”
“Uh, yeah, Spencer came in for tea and slept on the couch,” she lied.
“No I didn’t,” he groggily chimed in from where he was cuddled into the crook of Y/N’s neck.
“Right okay, so I’ll bring Spencer some breakfast too then,” she said before hanging up.
Y/N placed the phone back on her night table, settling back into Spencer’s embrace.
“Why’d you lie?” He asked.
“Didn’t know if I had your consent to tell her about us yet,” she whispered into his hair as she placed kisses on his head.
“Morgan told me if I didn’t kiss you last night, he’d make me do another round of physical evaluations,” he smiled against her skin. “He wanted to win the bet everyone set to see who would kiss who first.”
“So you just helped the guys win?”
“Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch were betting for me to kiss you first,” he admitted.
“Well, that means Rossi, Garcia and JJ think I’m the one wearing the pants here. Good to know,” she giggled.
“You can wear the pants,” he said as he shifted his weight to look up at her, “as long as I get to take them off later.”
“Well, Dr. Reid, I never thought you’d have it in you,” she was pleasantly surprised.
“When I get comfortable around someone I’m a lot different than I am at work,” he explained, “I heard what you said about needing someone to take care of who still wants to take care of you.”
She blushed, “of course you did.”
He leaned down to kiss her jaw and down her neck. “I think we can work something out,” he whispered.
Her breathing hitched. She couldn’t believe the complete 180º his personality just took, and she wasn’t complaining. All the moisture left her mouth as she just nodded her head in agreement.
“We should get up before she gets here,” he said, kissing her one last time before crawling out of bed.
She laid there staring up at the ceiling, shocked, flabbergasted, enamoured, basically every single word that essentially meant ‘what the fuck just happened.'
She got up, turned off the alarm and waited to use the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and replaced her tank top with a sweater. Spencer slipped across the hall to change into jeans and a button-down shirt, almost like he couldn’t be in anything else around his friends.
Penelope was a hugger, she made sure to give Y/N a good squeeze as she walked into her apartment. “It’s literally the same as Reid’s just backwards,” was the first thing she said.
“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been over there yet,” Y/N smiled, taking the coffees out of Penelope’s hands and setting them on the counter.
“JJ and Emily said they’d love to come help later too if you want them to, but it doesn’t look too bad for just the 3 of us,” she said looking around.
“Everything is labelled, my room is all done so you don’t need to worry about it, set up however you see fit, honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss figuring out how to make this place feel more like me with what I have.”
“Alright, well,” she started, looking for the box with the cleaning supplies. “First we clean the kitchen then we put everything where it has to go.”
So that's what they did, they spent a few hours wiping down every surface in the house, disinfecting the floors, the walls, door handles, nobs, everything. Then Penelope got out all her pots and pans, hanging them on the rack above the kitchen island.
Spencer took all the plates out, stacking them neatly in the cabinet. Y/N stacked her cups and glasses, placing them on the shelf with the glass door. They organized her utensils, baking equipment, cookbooks and aprons, asking all about how much she baked.
She offered to make cookies for the team soon, that was a Sunday night with Spencer activity for sure.
In the living space, there weren’t many things. Spencer unpacked the books and placed them on her shelves in library-coded order. While Penelope and Y/N unboxed all her albums and records, cheering and singing along to their favourites.
Y/N had never quite had friends like this before, people who just fit into her life so easily. This was really the best family in the FBI, they knew how to make someone feel completely and wholly loved.
“I need to get some art and stuff,” Y/N said staring at the one empty wall.
“What are you going to do on the fireplace mantle?” Spencer asked, noticing it was still empty.
“Probably some of my spiritual stuff, like my crystals and candles and incense,” she smiled.
“oh, I do that too!” Another thing they had in common.
The day blew past them. They finished unpacking and breaking down all the boxes by 2 pm, finally sitting down altogether, exhausted. Ready to order a few pizzas and chill for the rest of the afternoon.
—
“I really appreciate the help today,” she said as she hugged Penelope. Penelope’s hugs were more comforting than her own mother’s, she thought. Holding her tightly and taking it all in. “I’m so blessed I ran into Spencer and now I get to be your friend.”
“I will cry,” she joked as she hugged y/n tighter. “I’m very blessed to have met you as well.”
She hugged Spencer on her way out as well, forcing herself to leave or else she would have stayed and talked for hours.
As soon as Spencer closed the door behind her, he set the alarm the way Y/N liked it. She smiled at him, seeing him remember how she likes to feel completely safe.
She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. “Would you like to make out with me on my bed?”
“Like horny teenagers?” He giggled, dropping his forehead to rest on hers.
“We never really got the horny teenage experience,” she said softly.
“Are you-?” He cut himself off before he could say the word.
She looked up at him, her eyes big and innocent, she nodded. “technically.”
“Technically?” He repeated softly.
“I don’t want to count my sexual assault as my first,” she whispered. “I’ve never let anyone touch me since.”
His arms wrapped tighter around her, pulling her in closer to be right against his chest. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, forehead, nose, and finally her lips. “I’m going to try my best to never hurt you.”
She kissed him deeper, her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting to part from him. But when she did, she whispered, out of breath. “Promise to only hurt me if I ask you to?”
He saw the way his breath hitched and the way his grip changed. His face went red as he nodded feverishly.
“Are you a virgin Dr. Reid?” She teased.
“No,” he whispered. “I uh had sex in college, just to get it out of the way.”
She broke out of his grasp, taking his hand and pulling him into her bedroom. She closed the door behind them flicking on her fairy lights and lighting a couple of candles. He sat patiently on her bed as he watched her nervously organize things that had no reason to be organized in that moment.
But he let her calm down until she was fully ready, or she changed her mind. Either way, he was going to hang out with her all night long, however she wanted him.
“Close your eyes,” she asked softly. “Lay back against the bed and don’t look at me yet.” She ordered him and he listened.
He pressed his eyes closed and scooted up the bed till his head was on a pillow, laying back with his hands over his eyes. He listened closely to the sound of her taking her clothes off. She tried to steady her breath as she pulled off her sweater and sports bra and replace it with something cute.
She put on her only pair of matching underwear, ones she got on sale at some department store that she only wore for herself so far. She crawled up the bed, sitting directly on Spencer's hips.
She took his hands off his eyes, noticing they were still closed, she smiled. She placed his hands on her bare hips. “Open them.”
He opened his eyes to the most stunning image he’s ever seen in his life. Blinking a few times as his mind burned the image into the back of his eyelids for the rest of time. “Fuck,” he whispered.
She smiled to herself, “thought you’d like it.”
She leaned down, arching her back and kissed his neck. His hands travelled from her thighs to her perched ass as she kissed up his jaw to his ear. He was nothing but breathy moans and thank you’s as she explored him.
She ground herself down on his growing erection, smirking against his skin. She sat back on his hips, wiggling as she undid each of his shirt buttons, way too slow.
She took her time, pulling the front of his shirt out of his jeans and finally spreading the shirt open. Her hands ran over his chest before she used her nails to scrape her way down to his jean buttons.
He reached for her hands then. Stopping her and looking up into her eyes. “Before we start, I need to know what will trigger you,” he said softly.
“Oh,” her face dropped a little, she was a little overwhelmed with the fact he was asking, but she knew he truly cared. “I can’t do blowjobs yet, I will probably have a panic attack.”
“I can live without them,” he smirked, “look at everything else you do, fuck you’re amazing.” His hands roamed her skin the whole time.
She tucked her ankles under his knees and in one swift moment flipped them from laying on his side of the bed to the middle. He was on top of her now, absolutely amazed that she could do that.
“Told you I was combat trained,” she giggled.
Spencer sat up on the bed, ripping his shirt off and pushing himself out of both his jeans and underwear at the same time. Her mouth couldn’t help but fall open and the sight of his perfect cock bouncing free.
He sat back, trying to tug his jeans off of his ankles when he fell back and landed on the hardwood floor, “Spencer!” She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her.
He huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she quickly bit her lip to try and stop laughing.
“When you said horny teenager phase I didn’t think you meant the awkward part too,” he smiled, standing completely naked in front of her.
“Get back here,” she giggled.
He got right back on top of her, between her legs that she wrapped immediately around him. Locking him in place. “How would you like it?” He asked.
“Well hypothetically,” she began with a smirk, “I think I would like to ride you, sitting up, tits in your face, the whole shebang.”
He forgot how to breathe, the most beautiful girl in the world just laid out how she wants to be fucked like it was a science experiment.
He was in love with her.
She flipped him again, “you have to stop doing that!” He gasped.
She laughed as she sat up, getting off him enough so he could sit up against the headboard. She shimmied out of her underwear before sitting down on him again, their most intimate parts just resting close to one another. She shivered at the feel of his hot skin against hers. She’d never been this close to another human before.
“Do you have a condom?” He asked, suddenly shy.
“If you want one yeah but I have an IUD in case I get,” she stopped herself, “you know, in the field.”
“Yeah that's smart,” he was so nervous.
She leaned in and kissed him. Holding his cheeks in her hands as his hands reached behind her back to undo her bra. She opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue as she felt the straps of her bra slip down her shoulders.
She let go of his face one hand at a time and peeled the bra from her skin. Flinging it across the room without looking and pressing her breasts against his chest.
She gets on her knees without breaking the kiss, reaching between them she grips the base of his cock. His breath hitches in his throat and she can feel his pulse in his shaft.
She drags the head through her folds, she breaks the kiss to breathe in his ear, “you know, you’re just a bit bigger than what I'm used to.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
She lines him up with her and slowly pushes down on him, pulling up and back down again, each time getting his cock a little wetter on her juices so he can slip in easier. “I think it was called the emerald stud, he’s in a box over there,” she whispers in his ear as she bottoms out.
She sits back, her arms around his shoulders, she rocks on his cock. His eyes slip shut as he dips his head back against her crossed wrists. “Fuck,” he breathes.
She shifts again, bouncing more on him when she’s used to his size. His hands are on her ass again, helping her bounce as he moved to kiss her neck and collarbones.
He’s all noises, hot breath against her chest and sloppy kisses. She reaches between them to rub her clit before he pushes her hand out of the way to rub her himself. Feeling how swollen she is, he squeezes her clit lightly.
She moans out a high pitches squeak that she had no idea she could make, covering her mouth as she bounced a little harder on his cock. “Fuck Spencer,” she whispered into his hair.
He kissed her ear again, “you want me to cum in you?” He asks.
“God yeah, fill me up,” she replies without thinking, tossing her head back and grinding down ever so provocatively on him.
She presses her front against him more, causing the friction from his index finger on her clit to get more intense as she bucks her hips faster and faster against him.
He’s gone. Absolutely destroyed. He cants even worn her that he’s about to cum he just tips his head back and fucks up into her, gripping her ass so tight that he knows she’s going to have 5 deep, finger-shaped, purple bruises around each ass cheek.
Her orgasm rips through her, losing balance with her shaking thighs she gasps for air, falling into him with her face in the crook of his neck. She is breathing so hard as she comes down, she drools on his neck a little.
He pulls his hand out from between them, flicking her clit on last time. Sending a tremor through her body. She twitches against him, tensing up and tightening around the cock still inside her.
He moans once more, and she feels the tiniest trickle of cum slip out of her as he lifts her off him.
They don’t talk. They just hold onto one another, breathing and rubbing their hands over each other's skin.
“Wow,” Spencer finally says.
“Yeah,” she agrees.
“Hypothetically,” he says with a smile, “I think the outcome we reached was the intended goal?” Only Spencer Reid would make a joke like that after sex.
She laughed and kissed his neck, “very successful, I would be willing to switch techniques next time to see if we can repeat this outcome.”
“Sounds like a date.”
chapter 3
They worked together perfectly. Every morning he’d head across the hall to his own apartment to get ready, coming back to a slice of toast and coffee in his travel mug ready to go.
She looked gorgeous every morning. She put time and effort into what she wore to work, just to chase psychopaths all day. He was in love with her, its the only thing he knew for sure when he looked at her. He was never going to recover from falling for her.
He’d hold all her things while she sets the alarm and locks the door. She would drive them to work each morning and even then he’d carry all her things up to the office.
Everyone noticed how Spencer changed around Y/N, he was always smiling, he was basically glowing from being in love, and having sex. Derek teased him constantly, but in all honesty, he was really proud of his little bro.
They had a slow day, which meant all the ladies filed into Penny’s office to shoot the shit when they were really supposed to be writing reports.
“So?” Penelope looked at Y/N with an arched eyebrow. “How is he?”
She shook her head and giggled to herself. “Really good.”
“Really?” Emily pried?
“He has this other personality that comes out when we, you know,” she was afraid to say fuck inside the walls of Penelope’s office. “I’m addicted, I was so afraid to have sex and now I’m like having an internal battle of is it really worth getting caught in the filing room for a quicky!”
They all burst into laughter, sharing stories of all the times each of them has fucked at work, “you won't get caught if you let us help you?” JJ said with a smirk.
“You’re kidding?” Y/N tilted her head, not believing her.
“I can ask Morgan and the team to lunch while you stay here, text Spencer saying to stay back to get work done but he can meet you in here.” Penelope planned the whole thing.
“No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable enough for that yet.” She was being completely honest.
“We need a code word for when you choose to use this plan,” Emily said. “Like you group text us the word ‘switch’ and we will keep everyone busy for you and Spence.”
“Why do you want me to fuck him here so bad?”
They all laughed, “because we’re not used to Spence getting this kind of love!” JJ said. “Emily and Penelope covered for me literally when me and Will made Henry.”
“having a hand in making my godson gave me a god complex,” Penelope joked.
They got along fabulously, laughing and working all afternoon before the boys came to get them.
“We got something.”
Y/N walked out first joining Spencer in the hall with a smile, standing close enough to him as they walked that their knuckles rubbed together. She sat beside him in the briefing room, opening the case file in front of her and flipping through the info.
“Wow,” she whispered to herself. “I know a few of the 13 women, I put them in the missing system.”
Spencer rubs his hand over her back softly, looking at the pages she’s flipping through.
Garcia wasn’t cheery anymore, she grabbed the remote for the tv and started her rundown.
“Over the last 6 days, police in Winnemucca Nevada have dug up 13 bodies of women who have gone missing in the last 10 years. He seems to kill sporadically without patterns. M.E has confirmed all 13 women, and de-comp shows they were all killed within 24 hours of going missing.”
“Cause?” Prentiss asked.
“All 13 were strangled with plastic shopping bags, that were left wrapped around their faces in the graves. They were all sexually assaulted antemortem, but not all of them died from asphyxiation. He also stabbed 9 of the 13 victims, 5 of which died from massive blood loss. But the real kicker was that all 13 of them had their wombs removed.” Penelope finished.
“Do we know if any of them were pregnant?” Y/N asked.
“Yes,” she said flipping through slides, “victim number 13, Traci Purcell was 17 and according to her autopsy, her HCG levels indicated she would have been 3 weeks along when she was murdered.”
“Are they able to see if the others were pregnant?” Hotch asked.
“They’re working on it, best bet will be for me to pull medical records and to ask the family.”
“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch nodded towards the door.
Slowly but surely they all filed into the plane, Y/N took a window seat, quickly burying her head in the file, looking at each and every victim carefully.
“Spence, would you help me place the geographical profile?” Y/N asked him softly as he got comfortable in the seat across from her.
“Once we take off we can spread out the map,” he smiled softly back at her. Even when dealing with the hard cases they managed to get caught up in each other's eyes.
“Okay love birds, can I sit here too or will I get more than air sickness?” Morgan said, pretending to feel sick as he sat beside Y/N.
She smacked his arm lightly.
“Speaking of,” Spencer said, stopping to swallow nervously. “Hotch I’m going to need 2 of the workplace fraternization forms when we get back.”
Everyone on the plane cheered at him, he got 3 high-fives and all the congratulations in the world. Y/N immediately felt her face warm up.
“Don’t worry, Garcia filed them for you that night she helped you unpack,” Hotch smiled into his paperwork.
“How did she even know?” Y/N’s voice went up 3 octaves as she panicked.
“At least we know when pretty boy lost his V card now,” Morgan smirked.
“No, just me.” Y/N corrected him. To which Spencer was given yet another high five.
Just then Spencer was handed $20 from Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan. Y/N raised an eyebrow, “why?”
“I bet them $20, years ago, that I am in fact not a virgin and they said they would and I quote ‘only pay me if a woman who has fucked me confirms it.’ So who’s going to tell Gideon to pay up?” He explains.
The team carried on like normal after all the excitement died down. Having side conversations, working on the case, sleeping. The trip from Quantico to Winnemucca was fairly quick.
Y/N sat with Spencer at the table, spreading out the map and watching him place where all 13 victims disappeared from as well as where they were found. They were spread over 3 subdivisions, all 35 miles at least away from the burial sites.
“The park,” Spencer said softly.
“Is that the middle ground?”
“Yeah there’s something significant with the park,” Spencer confirms.
—
Spencer and Y/N went to the M.E together, all 13 women were labelled and displayed under white sheets. They took their time looking over each skeleton and the bodies.
“Clean cuts on the stomach, I wonder why he didn’t stab her?” Spencer said as he looked at the 13th victim.
“She might have cooperated better, or and I hate to say it but, seeing as she was Asian there is a high chance she didn’t bear resemblance to the source of the unsubs rage meaning she got to go out a little easier,” Y/N suggested with a disgusted look on her face.
“The 5 who died of blood loss were all white, brown hair, green eyes. 3 were 26, 2 were 29. They might be exactly his type,” Spencer confirmed the theory.
“They were also murdered,” she flipped her notebook open to show a chart with 5 columns. “June, February, June, November, November. Could also mean something to him.”
“What is that?” Spencer asks.
“It’s a chart that has the name, their age, the missing date and last scene location, the estimated date of death, and the cause. So that I can easily refer to the most important info when making a connection,” She explained. “My brain works better if I can see everything, so I also have my own little hand-drawn map of the area on his page as well as all my ideas in case I don’t get a turn to speak.”
“That’s really smart,” he smiled.
“So June, November and February might be significant to him.”
“Let’s go tell Hotch.”
Spencer drove for once, Y/N sat in the passenger seat in the SUV, doodling into her notebook.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Spencer asked.
“I wrote down the first letter of each month,” she explained, showing him the notebook. “And I circled each of the 3 months that repeat, February, June and November.”
“Okay?” He followed along.
“From February to November it’s 10 months or 40 weeks which is the typical length of a pregnancy,” She explained further. “This whole thing is clearly about pregnancy seeing as he is taking wombs. It’s clearly not a woman seeking revenge because of the sexual assault so it has something to do with him seeking revenge for a pregnancy in his life.”
“Could even be his own, like he’s punishing women who look like his mother because he wishes he was never born,” Spencer ponders.
They pulled into the police station, she got out and walked in all with her head still in the notebook. “Find anything?” Hotch asked.
“Of course she did,” Spencer bragged about her.
—
They all took a break, going back to their hotels to get some rest. All agreeing that since the media hasn’t released anything about this case yet the killed has no idea. They take it in faith that he will stick to his 2 to 4 month waiting period.
They all returned the next morning, refreshed and ready to resume their findings. JJ and Emily spent most of the morning interviewing families of the victims, specifically asking if they knew the vic was pregnant as well as what significance the park played in or around their pregnancies.
Y/N sat in silence with a coffee, flipping through her notebook. Hotch and Morgan were running over ideas they all had with Garcia on the phone.
“Hey, Spence?” Y/N called boy wonder over from the map he had been staring at.
“Yes, my love?” He says softly.
“I think I have an idea, can you go over it with me before we tell the team?” She asked.
“Of course,” he took a seat beside her.
“Why do I have an IUD?” She asks him in a whisper.
“In case you get raped in the field,” he whispered back.
“More specifically.”
“So you don’t get pregnant as a result of a rape in the field.”
“The sexual assaults in his mind, are him getting these victims pregnant. But they’re already pregnant when he picks them right?” She explains, “So that when he removes the uterus postmortem it's his way of aborting the child.”
“So this is all about abortion?” Spencer confirms.
“More specifically to do with how you said he regrets being born,” she corrects.
“Do you think he’s the product of a failed abortion?”
She nodded her head, “yeah and that by taking the whole uterus, and the strangling, and the stabbing, both mother and baby are for sure dead.”
“Hotch!” Spencer called across the room. “Y/N figured it out.”
They waited for JJ and Prentiss to finish an interview before they all piled into an office to discuss Y/N’s idea.
“Is there even any way to know if someone is the product of a failed abortion?” Prentiss asked after Spencer and Y/N took turns explaining how they came to their conclusion.
“Probably the best way would be to search for babies born with the common disabilities that occur in babies of failed abortions, but make sure they were born in November,” Y/N explained.
“Why November?” Penelope asked over the phone.
Y/N took a whiteout marker and started writing on the whiteboard.
“The 5 victims that died from loss of blood were all exactly the same, they were murdered in June, February, June. November and November.” She explained.
Writing “J F M A M J J A S O N D” on the whiteboard. Circling February, June and November.
“February, conception. 10 months later, or 40 weeks, is November. June is 4 months along meaning that would be when the mother either had the abortion, be it medical or homemade,” Y/N explained.
“Last year alone 146 of the 164,045 abortions resulted as a failure. When this happens most women choose to have the second procedure, or a D and C. Or they can carry the baby the rest of the way to term,” Spencer explained. “Children brought to term from a first-trimester medical abortion failure often have limb or digit abnormalities while infants born from non-medical approved abortions are more likely to have congenital problems.”
“However someone without a limb would not be able to do what our unsub is capable of. Digging graves, abducting, dragging dead bodies, it’s a lot of effort,” JJ added.
“Exactly, which is why I think our unsub probably has a mental disability.”
“Non-medical abortions, most often referred to as the poor person’s method, is taking a non-FDA approved ulcer treatment drug called Misoprostol, which is causing an epidemic of birth defects all along South America and parts of Asia,” Spencer added. “It induces contractions, causing women to deliver babies far too early to survive outside of the womb. If taken after the first trimester, and unsuccessful it can cut off oxygen to the brain long enough to permanently damage development in the frontal lobe.”
“Did the families mention anything about the park?” Y/N asked Prentiss and JJ.
“So far 4 of the victim's husbands say their wives announced they were pregnant on park benches, near the children swinging. They said it was the typical, ‘that could be us one day, that day came sooner than you thought’ moments from movies.” JJ confirmed.
“Let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced, following them all into the precinct.
—
They spent the next few hours looking for anyone with birth defects or mental disabilities that could be a potential suspect. Asking the other officers as well as anyone around the park about the type of man they were looking for.
Morgan and JJ patrolled the park while Rossi and Prentiss asked around on the street.
“Lynette Hayward,” Y/N whispered to herself, standing up and rushing through all the papers on the table in front of her.
“She was the only one who wasn’t pregnant, she was the only one who wasn’t reported missing, she was the oldest and in her youth, she had brown hair and green eyes. What if she’s his mother?” Y/N expressed to Spencer and Hotch who were watching her scramble around.
She pulled her phone out and called Garcia, “what’s cooking good lookin’?” Penelope answered.
“Can you help unscramble my egg brain?” She joked right back.
��Sure thing, whatcha got?”
“Lynette Hayward, does she have children, was she ever pregnant, or put someone up for adoption?”
“Let me check into it and I will call you right back!” Garcia said, hanging up and going right to work.
“Is there anyone here who knew Lynette Hayward about 30 years ago? She would have been 26 to 29, my height, brown hair, and green eyes?” Y/N announced to the whole Police Department.
“I did,” an officer said, standing up from the desk on the other side of the room.
She waved him over, pulling out a chair and asking him to sit.
“Was Lynette ever pregnant?” Y/N asked.
He thought for a moment, licking his lips and harkening all the way back to his 20’s. “There was a summer that no one saw her."
"When was this?" Spencer asked.
"From June to November, not a single person saw her. We thought maybe she was doing summer classes somewhere,” he explained.
“Were there any children dropped off at a fire hall or a hospital that November?” Spencer asked.
“There was a baby left in the park, poor little guy had been left out there in the cold,” he said.
Hotch, Spencer and Y/N all took a deep breath and looked at each other. “That’s him.”
Garcia called back then, “I found 1 baby left abandoned in the park in November of 1979, he was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate, seizures, and later on he was diagnosed with diabetes, Crohn’s disease and Asperger's syndrome.”
“Name and address?” Spencer asked.
“That's the difficult part, he was born, operated on and handed over to the state and cared for by a foster family that named him Jake Alexander Ingrid. At the age of 6, he was adopted by them fully. When he was 12 he dropped out of the public school system due to bullying that left him in the hospital with a broken arm. After that, his trail goes cold.”
“How cold?” Y/N asked.
“If I didn't know better I'd say he was the one missing not Lynette,” Garcia confirmed.
“Does anyone live in Lynette’s house?” Hotch asked.
The sound of Garcia’s typing was all they heard over the phone, “her bills are being paid on time, someone is in her trailer. I’ve sent the address to your phones.”
“Let’s go.”
Hotch kicked the trailer door in, “FBI!”
He was asleep, startled awake in the bed that used to belong to his birth mother. He cried, overwhelmed with the 3 guns pointed in his face. Hotch sighed, cuffing him and reading him his rights.
“Why are the worst ones always the sadist?” Y/N asked Spencer as they watched forensics tore apart the trailer.
“Sad in what context?”
“His whole life was so fucked up, it sucks. All those women crossed paths with him and he took his fucked up life and ended theirs, as well as their babies,” Y/N couldn’t stop shaking her head as she spoke, disgusted with the whole situation.
Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, “if we spend all our time wondering why the world is like this we won't have enough time to bring justice to the victims.”
“which is the best outcome we can ask for,” Y/N agreed.
“Dr, Reid, agent Y/L/N?” An officer interrupted their hug and watched them awkwardly pull away from each other quickly.
“Yes?” Spencer answered.
“We found the wombs.”
The worst fucking sentence she had ever heard. “I can’t look at that.” She said, walking away to join JJ and Prentiss standing by the SUV.
“Good job kid,” Morgan said, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re almost as smart as boy wonder over there.”
“Just call me Mrs, boy wonder then,” she joked.
“Don’t tempt him!” Prentiss joked.
Y/N turned back to see Spencer walking out of the trailer, a shade of green spreading across his skin. “Excuse me,” she said walking towards the ambulance that was on standby.
“Dr. Reid looks like he might be sick,” she said, taking an EMT with her towards him.
Sure enough, Spencer leaned over the bushes and hurled before passing out into the EMT’s arms. Morgan and Hotch came running over to him, helping get him into an ambulance.
“What happened?” Morgan asked.
“He took a look at the recovered womb’s the forensic team found,” Y/N explained.
“That would do it,” Hotch agreed.
Y/N rubbed her hand along Spencer’s shoulder, “good catch,” the EMT complimented her as he took Spencer's vitals.
“I know him well.”
“Too well,” Morgan agreed. “You’d think you were cut from the same cloth.”
“No,” she said softly, gripping Spencer’s hand in her own as he started to stir a little. “We’re cosmically connected, made from the same space rock that split during the big bang.”
“I love you,” he whispered, awake the whole time she was speaking.
“Yeah, yeah,” she teased him, “I know, save your strength, you’re still all pasty white.”
“Gross,” Morgan smiled, turning away from the ambulance
chapter 4
Prentiss convinced Y/N and Spencer to take the weekend off in Nevada to go visit their parents. They agreed that it would be nice, seeing as neither of them thought to tell their moms that they met again let alone that they were together.
Y/N walked into the Nursing home first, looking for her mom in her office as Spencer walked in quickly to go find his mother.
“Hey mom,” Y/N smiled as she knocked on her mother's office door.
“Y/N!” She yelled, shocked to see her eldest baby standing in front of her for the first time since last Christmas. “What are you doing here?”
“Remember how I moved?” She started there.
“Yes?”
“Well, my new neighbour ended up being Spencer Reid, and he introduced me to the BAU and I helped them with a case, so they hired me, and now I work for them and we just finished a case in Winnemucca and me and Spencer are dating. He’s here too and we’re taking the weekend off to tell you and Diana,” she had never rambled so fast to her mother before in her life.
“Holy shit?” Her mother was shocked, “this all happened in the last 3 weeks? Is that why you’ve been too busy to text me?”
“I’ve been on 5 cases in the last 3 weeks, I was swamped,” she smiled, her eyes welling with tears.
Her mom walked over to her and wrapped her up in her arms, holding her close. “My baby, this is everything you wanted why are you crying?”
“I haven’t taken a moment to actually understand that this is all real,” she whispered.
Her mother pulled back, looking in her eyes with a stern look. “Is he good to you?”
She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He’s wonderful.”
“Diana is in the game room, let’s go see them,” she tucked her arm under Y/N’s and the two of them walked arm in arm towards the game room.
Diana stood up as she saw them walk in, “Debbie’s daughter?” She asked.
Spencer nodded with a large smile on his face. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, my partner.”
“I know you,” Diana said softly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. “You would read to me on Thursdays after Spencer left for CalTech.”
“Really?” Spencer asked.
“I knew you were here as often as you could be, and I felt bad she didn’t have any other children to come see her,” Y/N explained. “I know if my mom was here and my brother couldn’t visit I’d fill in.”
“It was lovely, I still have the book you gave me before you left for the academy,” Diana’s smile was as big and bright as Spencer’s.
They all sat together, sharing stories with each other. It seemed like their mothers enjoyed sharing embarrassing kid stories to make Spencer and Y/N blush back and forth.
Before they knew it, it was 3 pm and visiting hours were coming to an end and Debbie’s shift was about to end as well. “Where are you both staying?” She asked.
“At a hotel downtown,” Y/N explained.
“Nonsense, stay with me and your father!” Debbie insisted.
Y/N shook her head, “we can come to visit for dinner tomorrow, but we need some space.”
“You know how it feels to be in love especially this young Deb, I’m sure you understand,” Diana patted her on the shoulder.
“Go on, have fun. But tomorrow dinner starts at 6:15, Levi and Lizzie also home this weekend,” Debbie smiled, hugging both Spencer and Y/N before Diana.
“Would Diana be able to come to dinner at our place?” Y/N asked.
“I think I can pull some strings,” Debbie agreed, “have a good night tonight guys.”
“We will,” Spencer smiled, taking Y/N’s hand and walking with her to the parking lot.
They both sighed as they sat in their rental car. “That went well,” Y/N said softly.
“Why didn’t you tell me you visited my mom?” Spencer asked, holding her hand again.
“I was going to, there’s so much I want to tell you but we haven’t had enough personal time to get through it all, every time we talk lately it’s about murder,” she replied.
“Let's go get a table at a nice restaurant and tell each other everything.”
“I have something to do first, can I drop you off at the hotel and meet you there?” She asked.
“absolutely.”
-—
She drove to her parent's place as fast as she could, they were all just sitting down in the living room when she walked in the door. “Hi sorry I can’t stay I just want to grab a dress from my closet.”
She kicked her shoes off and ran up the stairs to her bedroom just like she would have after school. Her room hadn’t changed much. Her desk was still in the corner, her bed was made, and her mom now used it for storage. There were boxes, lamps, pillows and a million folded blankets all resting on her bed and scattered along the floor.
She shuffled some things out of the way of her closet door and quickly looked through all the bagged dresses she had left here. Minoring in political science and volunteering with government organizations in college meant she had a dress for every occasion, times the 4 years she was there.
“Cocktail, dinner, black tie, prom, homecoming,” she flicked through them all, “funeral,” she said as she stopped. “Why is this here?”
She pulled out a black dress she wore to a democratic representatives fundraiser, it was an off-the-shoulder, 3/4 length sleeve, plunging neckline, skin-tight dress with a slit to show some leg. It was perfect.
She placed it on the edge of her bed and dug out the black heels that she originally bought to go with the dress. She found a strapless bra in her dresser, and a cute pair of underwear buried at the back of her drawer.
She closed her door and quickly changed, walking across the hall in her heels to fluff her hair in the mirror and figure out how the fuck she was going to do her makeup here.
Just then her brother's wife came walking up the stairs, “Y/N?” She knocked on the bathroom door before coming in.
“Hey Lizzie,” she smiled. “Do I look okay?” She asked.
Lizzie looked her up and down with a shocked look on her face, “yeah what’s the occasion? I didn’t even know you were home?”
“It’s a long story, my boyfriend and I were here on a case and we’re staying for the weekend, you get to meet him tomorrow!” She filled her in as she searched the bathroom drawers for makeup.
“What do you need?” She asked.
“Do you have your makeup kit here? We’re like the same shade right?”
Before she knew it, Lizzie was making her sit on the edge of the tub while she did Y/N’s makeup for her. “Remember when you did my prom makeup?” Lizzie asked.
“Yeah,” she smiled. “You and Levi looked so good together that night.”
“Not as good as you look right now, he’s going to eat you alive,” she hyped Y/N up.
“You think so?” Y/N asked, standing up to take a look in the mirror.
“Absolutely!!!”
She took a deep breath and shook the nerves out, “okay I have to go,” she said running back to her room for her phones, wallet and badge.
“Go get him, SSA Y/L/N,” Lizzie smiled as she watched y/n steadily run down the stairs in heels, clicking on the hardwood as she ran.
“Wait!” Her dad yelled from the table, “don’t I get to see you before you leave?”
She ran into the table room, quickly hugging her father at the head of the table and kissing him on his bald head. “I’m late for my date, I love you, I’ll be home tomorrow,” she said running back towards the front door and to her car.
She was like a mad chicken running around with her head cut off. She took a breather in the car before starting the engine and making her way back downtown.
--
She left her car out front with the valet, saying she would be back in a minute. She dug her phone out of her wallet and called Spencer. “I’m in the lobby.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She waited by the elevator, she pulled her boobs up into her bra and wiggled the wire till they looked okay, then she straightened her dress out. She never felt this nervous when she wore this dress the last time, she’s never felt this nervous period, actually.
Spencer Reid did something to her that she couldn’t quite describe. But if she had to, she’d say he makes her feel alive.
The elevator dinged and Spencer walked out in one of his best suits. He was looking down at his button as he stepped out not seeing her at first.
She smiled at him, waiting for him to look up. When he did his eyes grew three times their normal size and his mouth dropped. He stopped right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lightly running his hands down her arms. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“Could say the same thing about you Dr. Reid,” Y/N teased as she pulled on his tie.
She pulled him down by his tie and pressed her lips against his. Never before had either of them been a big fan of PDA, but this was an exception.
She pulled back from him and tucked his tie back into his jacket. Smoothing out his sleeves before taking a step back and handing him the keys. “Lead the way doctor.”
He extended his arm to which she wrapped her arm around. He walked her to the front of the lobby, watching as the bellhop held the door for them.
Their car was still there, waiting with the valet who opened the door when he saw her return. She sat on the passenger side, fixing the slit of her dress to not show too much just yet.
Spencer joined her, sitting in the driver's seat he started the car and drove off.
He reached his hand over to place it on her thigh, where it belonged. He gripped her leg and felt down to where her holster was. She saw his eyebrow raise as he looked down, moving the side of her dress to see her gun strapped to her leg.
“Gonna shoot me if I’m not on my best behaviour tonight, agent?” He laughed.
“Nevada is a concealed carry state, and I don’t trust anyone,” she said. “Plus I look like this tonight, do you know what the crime rate is in Los Vegas-? Don’t answer that, of course, you do,” she teased him.
“It’s pretty hot,” he complimented her.
“What? The gun or my attitude?”
“The fact that you don’t take shit from anyone, you’re a badass and I never have to worry about you.”
“What if I want you to worry?”
“I’m always going to worry, I just mean you’re not a damsel in distress. I can go into every situation knowing you’re smarter on your feet than anyone on the team, and as long as you’re there we’re coming out alive,” he explained better.
“That’s the best compliment,” she felt bashful all of a sudden. She put her hand on his and squeezed it. “I love you, Spencer,” she finally told him.
“I love you too,” he smiled.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t said it back yet.”
He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant they were going to, returning his focus fully to driving. He pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park.
“I knew you’d say it when you were ready, I’m in no rush to hear it,” he leaned over the centre console and kissed her on the lips.
He got out of the car and walked around to open her door, helping her out before extending an arm out for her once more.
He made a reservation while he was alone at the hotel, getting a table in the back away from everyone else. It was a round table with a booth stretching all the way around the table. The back of the chair tall enough to enclose them in their own little world for the time being.
They were at a cute little stake house, one where you got to pick the exact piece of meat you wanted and they did it however you asked. They ordered drinks and enough bread to make the waiter look at them differently.
“Tell me the most random fact about you,” Y/N asked as soon as the waiter left to tell the kitchen their order.
“When my mom’s schizophrenia started getting bad, she thought that the government used dryers to take our socks for DNA and clone us, so whenever one of my socks went missing she freaked out. After that, I started wearing mismatched socks all the time so that that way she would never notice which of the pairs were missing since I never wore them that way anyway.”
She smiled the whole time he talked, absolutely in love with him. He was her everything. “So that’s why I’ve got so many random socks around my house.”
“It’s worse at my apartment,” he smiled again. “Your turn.”
“The first time I ever rode a bike without training wheels was because I stole my neighbour's bike and took off with it down the road,” she laughed.
“Why?”
“I think my mom said I couldn’t take my own training wheels off yet, so I took matters into my own hands.”
“See?” He shook his head lightly. “Badass.”
“When was the last time you were in Vegas?” She asked.
“Earlier this year when we reopened the Riley Jenkins case,” he said softly.
“oh, my mom was telling me about that one! Your mom went off her meds to help remember if your dad was involved right?” Y/N recalled.
He nodded, “do you know what really happened?”
“I have the gist, Lou killed Gary in revenge for Riley.”
“That's not all of it,” he said lightly. “Gary was watching me, and my mom told Lou that the way he looked at me, he might have been the one who hurt Riley. And then she witnessed Lou kill Gary.”
“Holy shit Spence, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Did you know Gary was my neighbour?” ,
“No?”
“Yeah we were 4, my brother was 2 and my mom was pregnant again, and Gary kept taking photos of my brother through the fence. My dad threatened to kill him a few times and then we finally moved across town,” she explained.
“How is it that our lives were so intertwined, and yet it took 20 years for us to actually connect again?” He asked.
“The same thing happened to my parents.”
“What’s their story?” He asked.
She moved around the table to sit closer to him, taking his hand in hers. “My dad is 8 years older than my mom, they met when she was 17 and he was 26 and they became good friends like he was her older brother. They realized years later that my dad delivered newspapers to the town my mom lived in, and he saw her basically grow up playing in the yard. Then his best friend always invited him to his cabin and when he finally went, the lot across from them was my mom's family cabin. They were always so close but never knew each other till they were meant to. And now they’ve been happily married for 30 years.”
“There's an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer explained.
“It took 500 years of coincidences to bring us together,” she said softly. “Which kinda makes the 20 years of admiring you from afar not seem so long.”
“From here on out let’s make every moment count then,” Spencer suggested, “we’ve been barely dating for 3 weeks I’m not going to ask you to marry me right this instant, but I do intend to spend the rest of my life with you in whatever capacity I can. Because I think you’re it for me.”
She could bask in the feeling of her heart fluttering like this for the rest of her life, it was like butterflies but completely calm. True happiness at its finest.
“Let’s make a deal,” she said softly, “in 1 year we come back here, and if we feel the exact same way as we do right now, you can propose to me.”
He put his pinky out for her, she wrapped hers around his, before kissing each other's knuckles. “Promise.” Spencer and Y/N said at the same time.
—
Back in the hotel room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash before slamming Spencer against the door. She slid her thigh between both his legs and boxed him in.
She undid the single button of his suit jacket, shushing Spencer. She pushed it off his arms, knocking it to the floor. She loosened his tie, tossing it to the side, still around his neck, while she unbuttoned his shirt.
He was completely silent and still. She was in control.
She tossed his shirt to the ground next. Holding onto his tie as she pulled him down into a heated kiss.
“Take my dress off,” she breathed into his mouth, feeling his hands reach around her back for the zipper.
He pushed the sleeves down her arms, watching the dress gather at her ankles before she stepped out and kicked the fabric out of the way. She tugged him by his tie towards the bed.
“Strip,” she instructed him. “Not the tie.”
“Underwear too?” He asked as she dug through his suitcase.
“yes.”
She returned with 2 more ties. Looking at him, butt naked on the bed. She stepped out of her underwear and the uncomfortable strapless bra. She set her gun in the hotel safe with her badge and returned to the bed.
“Would you be willing to try something?” She asked.
“anything,” he said, overly eager.
“Would you tie my hands to the bedpost and blindfold me and just do whatever you want?”
“Hold on,” he got off the bed and opened his go-bag side pocket. “I have a blindfold for the plane.”
“So you want to?”
Actions speak louder than words, he would always say.
He dimmed the lights down, got on the bed and roughly picked her up laying her back against the pillows. He tied her left hand first, and then her right hand. He took a hair elastic off the bedside table and put her hair back as best he could before he rested the blindfold against her forehead.
He hovered over her. “Anything I want?” Spencer confirmed.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“Ground rules?”
“Yellow for slow down, red for stop?” She shrugged.
“You really mean anything?”
“I trust you, Spencer Reid, make me feel good,” she smiled.
He kissed her on the nose before coving her eyes with the blindfold.
She had always wanted to try this, it was a kink she had always been determined to try. She took a deep breath and tried her best to listen to him as he moved to sit between her spread legs.
He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips before following the curve to her waist. He gripped her waist tightly and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, breathing her in as he kissed.
She wasn’t embarrassed about her tummy, for the first time in her life she loved her body. She felt him kiss all over her chest, dragging his bottom lip along her skin. He licked a stripe between her breasts, dropping his chin to her chest then to blow lightly over the wet trail.
She felt her nipples harden, she could physically hear the smirk that spread across his face.
He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands as he groped her lightly. She squirmed, trying her best to grind her hips against his.
He pushed her hips against the bed, “be patient.”
He disappeared then. She felt his weight shift and get off the bed. She let out a deep breath, knowing she told him he could do anything and that included punishing her. She literally asked for it.
“I picked something up after you dropped me off,” she heard him say from the other side of the room.
He walked around for a minute, taking something out of a hard plastic container. He struggled with ripping it, she heard papers fall the floor and something hard hit the floor. “Shit.”
She heard him walk towards the bathroom, she crossed her ankles and just waited.
He came back to the bed, moving her legs apart like they were when he left. “stay.”
He crawled between her legs once more, his hand brushed her thigh and it was cold and wet like he washed his hands.
“Can I touch you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head feverishly.
She heard a small buzzing, an all too failure sound. The first place she feels the vibration is in her belly button. Causing her to let out a shocked little giggle.
“Shhh,” he smiled.
He dragged the little bullet vibrator down her stomach, over her pelvis and finally, finally, against her clit. She let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh of relief.
All she wanted was for someone else to control her pleasure, surprise her, set the rhythm, the speed, everything. She spent so long pleasuring herself, she was so ready to sit back and just take it.
Spencer felt the same. He took his time, feeling every inch of her skin, kissing every single place he wanted to. He spent so much time just looking. Finding freckles and scars and kissing them. He was mesmerized by the fact she was real, that a beautiful woman would lay down in front of him, spread open like this and just let him explore. It felt like the best wet dream his brain could ever conjure.
She could feel him getting closer to her. His weight shifted and she felt his breath on her leg. She took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach in the anticipation of feeling a tongue on her for the first time ever.
He turned off the vibrator. Setting it to the side as he looped his arms around her thighs. Just admiring the view. Just then her whole body shivered as she anticipated the heat of his tongue.
He pressed a kiss to her clit first before flattening his tongue against her. “Sweet fucking Jesus Christ,” she gasped.
“I’ve never done this before,” he breathed against her.
“Explore away, sir,” she whispered.
He clearly did research, if he didn’t just say this was his first time eating someone out, she would think he was an expert. She regretted having her hands tied up at that moment. She squirmed, he held her hips down. She gripped the ties around her wrists wishing it was Spencer's hair.
She was never big into overstimulation or denial, never having the willpower to keep going after making herself cum once. Spencer, however, had the ability to bring her to the edge again and again without ever letting her spillover.
She didn’t beg, she didn’t complain, she sat there in the blissful feeling and waited. It was heavenly.
“Spence,” her breathing was heavy.
He hummed, letting her know he was listening. His tongue still wiggling back and forth on her clit.
“Can you please just fuck me now?”
He kissed his way back to her mouth. All up her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and jaw. She could taste herself on his lips, “untie me?” She asked softly.
He let one hand free, which she immediately used to grip his hair. The second hand was freed and she pushed the blindfold up and worked her way into a sitting position while he kneeled in front of her.
“Anything else you want to try?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes once again. She pushed his hair out of his face and just looked at him.
“Lie back and roll over,” he instructed.
He pulled her into a face-down, ass-up position and aligned himself with her. Pushing in little by little till he bottomed out. He reached around the bed for the vibrator and placed it in her one hand.
“You decide when you cum,” was all he said before he started fucking her.
She white-knuckled the pillow as he rammed into her, she was arched in the most perfect way for him to hit her g spot every time he rammed into her.
“My hair,” she gasped, wanting him to grab her by her ponytail as he fucked her.
With one hand on her hip to steady her and the other in her hair, he fucked into her like his life depended on it. Her legs were quaking, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t cum soon.
She flicked on the vibrator and pressed it against her own clit, feeling the familiar heat bubble in her stomach. “Fuck me, oh god,” she chanted.
Cuming with a shout, she dug her face into the pillow and all but screamed. Pushing back against Spencer as he bucked into her one last time and erupted inside of her.
His hips shook as he emptied his load before slowly pulling out and dropping down beside her.
She turned her head to look at him, eyeliner and mascara all smudged around her eyes, makeup all over the pillow. She was trying her hardest to catch her breath, staring at him with a smile on her face.
“If sex was an Olympic sport, I think we’d win,” she complimented him.
“you think?” He asked, his breath just as shaky as hers.
She rolled onto her back, letting him cuddle into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. “Everyone told me that the first time I have sex it’ll be underwhelming and uneventful, and yet every time we fuck I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I should invest in a wheelchair.”
He laughed, “would you put that in writing and send it to everyone from our high school?”
She smacked his arm. “and then I’d have to swat women off you with a bat if I wanted any alone time, you’re mine now.” She wrapped her whole body around him and held him there.
“I love you,” Spencer smiled.
“I love you, more.”
chapter 5
They packed everything into their car just to go to her parents house. There was something in Y/N’s gut that told her there was a case coming.
Her parents lived 30 minutes out of the city, on the edge of a cul-de-sac that faced a park. They had lived there since she was 5, it was her mom’s dream home. It was the only place in the town she had good memories in.
Y/N’s mother brought Diana home with her after work. They were waiting in the kitchen for Spencer and Y/N when they arrived. Tonights guests included not just them but Y/N’s youngest brother Levi, his wife Lizzie and their 2 year-old Chloe.
“There’s my girl!” Her dad cheered, standing up and rushing to give her a real hug. “Did you get taller?”
“it’s the boots,” she laughed, holding onto him tightly.
“You look great! The FBI is treating you well,” her dad was always one to compliment her. He pulled back and looked at Spencer. More like glared at him.
“Nice to meet you Sir, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid,” he said, shockingly extending his hand to shake her father's.
The profiler in her knew he was breaking his comfort zone to appease her baby boomer, ex-cop, father.
Her dad always did this thing when he met new men where he squeezed their hands to see how much they could take. “Harrison Y/L/N Sr.” She watched Spencers hand shake as he squeezed right back.
“Strong shake.” Her father complimented him. “She must have warned you.”
“No, he just knows how to read people,” Y/N laughed.
“Well come sit down Doctor Spencer Reid,” he teased him. “Let me interrogate the profiler.”
“Here we go,” Y/N laughed, placing a hand on Spencer's back as she led him into the kitchen.
They sat down together, Spencers mom, Diana, just across from him at the table. They smiled and nodded at each other in a quiet little hello.
“I would ask you to tell me a bit about yourself, but Y/N has kept me all caught up with you over the years,” her dad said. “You went to CalTech at 13, somewhere in there you got a degree from MIT, she idolized you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she blushed.
“It’s very flattering, but if anything I’m now huge fan of her’s. In the last 3 weeks she has been the one to find the major break in 3 of our cases. She is amazing at what she does, you raised an incredible woman,” Spencer replied, praising her in a way that made her heart flutter.
“Go on then, tell us about these cases then,” her dad asked.
And with that they got lost in all things horrific. Spencer explained, verbatim, how each case went down and exactly what Y/N came up with to solve them. She answered little questions here and there but mostly it was Spencer showing off how much he loved his girlfriend.
Her mom passed out dinner plates in the middle of the talk, some how all of them were able to discuss cases and eat at the same time. Her mom made burgers and potato salad for dinner, just something simple for them all.
“Did you really offer to fuck a serial killer?” Her brother asked, disgusted.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I knew in his sick twisted mind he wouldn’t be able to refuse a woman willing to let him do what he wanted and as soon as the weapon was down, so was he.”
“I always told you she’d be able to kick your ass, Levi,” her dad said. “Ever since she was a kid I knew she had it in her to wrestle someone to the ground.”
“Yeah, Spence didn’t believe me that I’m combat trained.”
“No,” Spencer interjected, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t ever think you’d be able to take me down.”
“And did you?” Her mom asked.
Her face turned bright red. “Yeah, I showed one of my combat maneuvers on him, we were all horsing around and I showed them how to go from being pinned to the ground to being the one on top.”
“How?” Her brother’s wife asked.
“Yeah demonstrate!” Her mom innocently cheered them on not knowing she was mid sex with him when she showed him how to do it.
“Um okay, Lizzie come with me,” she said, saving Spencer the awkwardness of having to straddle her in the middle of her family home.
She laid down on the floor, “you basically have to just pin me down how ever you see fit.”
Lizzie, sat on her, holding her shoulders down with one forearm. Y/N, quickly flipped her onto her back, making sure to catch her head as she did so. Not wanting her to smack it off the hardwood floor.
“Like that,” Y/N stood up and helped Lizzie to her feet. “Made sure all the girls knew how to do that.” She lied.
“As you should!” Her dad cheered, “nice to know your team all has each others backs.”
“How do they all feel about you two?” Diana asked. She had been mostly quiet all night, just enjoying time outside of where she was used to.
“They love it, they’ve been placing bets about us,” Y/N laughed.
“Like what?” Her dad asked.
“If he would kiss me first, if we’d tell the team ever, they even had one about who is most likely to say I love you first, they’re insufferable,” Y/N ranted.
“So what team one?” Her brother teased, just trying the embarrass her.
“He kissed me first, he told the team that we were together after like 10 hours and he was the first to say I love you,” Y/N blushed.
“Does she still have the I love you problem?” Her mom asked innocently but received a death glare from Y/N.
“Uh no, she says it to me too.” Spencer noticed the awkwardness.
“Any plans for baby number two?” Y/N asked Levi, changing the subject faster than ever.
She’d be lying if she said she was listening to the answer, her ears were ringing and all she cold focus on was Spencer’s hand on her back. Her mom was about to pass out cake when she excused herself to the bathroom, and ended up in her old bedroom.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing the words her mother said over and over in her mind. “Does she still have the I love you problem?”
She rubbed her hands over her eyes and just breathed. She didn’t want him to know about that yet.
Spencer knocked on her door, opening it softly and peaking his head in. “Do you want company?”
She nodded.
He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, running his hands along her thighs. “Are you okay?”
“I told you about Christopher?” She said softly.
“yes.”
“In order to get me to do what he did, he would always say I had to because he loved me,” she explained. A tear dripped down her cheek and landed on his hand. “And so for 7 years after I never told anyone I knew that I loved them.”
“That’s okay, you went through trauma. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he soothed her.
“I want to though because, before you, I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand love, I thought it was weird and forceful and something dependent on coercion,” her voice was so tiny, she didn’t want anyone else hearing her. “Loving you is light and fluffy and special and safe, I didn’t want you to think just now that I said it this weekend to get it over with or something because I truly do love you.
He pulled her into a kiss, “I love you, more.”
She laughed, “we’ll see about that.”
—
Y/N and Diana were doing the dishes as her mom packed the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Debbie was just about to ask who wanted coffee when Y/N’s phone started to ring.
She sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel before answering the phone. “SSA Y/N Y/L/N.”
“There’s been an explosion at a mall in Los Angeles and reports of 4 more planned, how fast can you and Reid get to LA?” Hotch asked.
“Um, we’re about 45 minutes from the airport.”
“We’re 4 hours out, we want you and Reid there ASAP. Is there any way we could send a helicopter to get you?”
“Yes, there’s a soccer field across the street from my parent's house, Garcia knows the address she can direct them where to go, we’ll be ready.”
“Debrief has already been sent to your phones, I need you and Reid to go to the LA field office and start communication with Garcia on victimology.”
“Got it.” She said as she hung up. “Spence we have to go!”
“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.
“We have an emergency in LA, they need us there immediately. There’s a helicopter coming to get us,” Y/N explained as she walked around the room towards her go-bag.
She unzipped it, unfolding her bullet-proof vest and putting it on. She adjusted her gun and made sure she had everything she needed. Spencer did the same at the table beside her.
“You are a badass,” her dad complimented her, filming her getting her gear on. “This is my daughter! FBI superhero! Kickass tonight kid!” He had an affinity for embarrassing her, but an even bigger obsession with showing her off.
He was like that with all of his children, first with her brother Harrison in the army, then with her other brother Levi and his swat training. Now his daughter was catching serial killers like it was nothing.
“Okay, we gotta go, the helicopter will be landing in that field in 3 minutes. Dad are you okay to take the car back to the dealership if this takes a while? We will be back for our suitcases after the case, I love you guys.” She said. handing her father the car keys and moving to put her shoes on.
“Got everything?” Spencer asked.
“Yep,” she smiled.
They walked out the door and across the street. Most of the neighbourhood watched a helicopter land in the soccer field as the sun was setting. They ducked as they ran getting in the chopper and strapping in.
“Agent Valdez, Nevada PD!” the officer in the pilot seat introduced herself. “We have just over an hour till we land, use the headsets to communicate with me if you need to!”
And they were off. She looked down to see her family waving up at them from their houses as the neighbours she grew up around took photos and videos of them leaving.
“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.
Y/N took out her phone and read over the debrief, “tonight at The Grove in Los Angeles, a small bomb went off killing 6 people and injuring 31.”
“Where did it go off?” Reid asked.
“Inside a small dress store that has been renting the space for the last 7 years,” Y/N confirmed. “I’m sure Garcia is looking into everyone who was injured or killed as well as the current and former employees.”
“It says here that the person who called 911 before the bomb went off warned of 3 bombs to come. Saying; ‘4 bombs in total the first in clear, the next is where her checks would clear.’” Reid read from the phone.
“So we need to find a connection between the dress store and a bank in the area,” Y/N said. “We need to go over that call more, have Garcia look into every aspect of the sound.”
“Where did Hotch say he wants us?” Reid asked.
“At the LA field office, he wants us working behind the scenes in correspondence with Garcia.”
Spencer sighed, “well, our weekend was fun while it lasted.
9:42pm PST
By the time the rest of the team landed and Hotch and JJ arrived at the field office, another 2 bombs had gone off at a Liberty Bank downtown LA.
“Garcia, do we have any connection from the dress shop to the bank yet?” Hotch asked.
“Nothing Sir, I have dug and dug and there isn’t a single person with a connection to both the bank and the dress shop within the last few months, I'm widening back 2-5 years but still nothing,” Garcia panicked over the phone.
“Is there any possibility our unsub is female? This to me feels like a scorned lover, maybe her husband is paying someone under the table who is cashing checks at that exact ATM that exploded and then went and bought a dress,” Y/N suggests.
“Garcia run with that as far as you can and call us back,” Hotch ordered.
“On it!” She cheered before hanging up.
Spencer looked around at all the info he and Y/N brainstormed while waiting for the team. “a female unsub would make the most sense.”
“Did we get any more clues for where the next bomb will be?” JJ asked.
Agent Cunningham from the LA field office shook his head, “nothing at the scene or over 911, we’re on the lookout for any suspicious calls and tips currently.”
“If you were cheating on your wife, after going to the bank and the dress shop where does she go with you next?” Y/N asked Hotch.
“Uh,” he shook his head, clearly faithful to his wife. “Dinner and a hotel?”
“So those are possibly the next two targets,” Y/N said, “but finding out what restaurant and hotel in the entirety of LA is like finding a needle in a needle stack.”
“I hate to say it,” JJ sighed, “but we might need one more explosion before we get a breakthrough.”
“All we can do is hope for minimal damage,” Y/N shot a soft smile over to her, “till then, what kind of woman in the area could make the type of bombs that are being used?”
“Almost anyone,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “I was just looking at the debris and shrapnel, it’s a fairly simple bomb that anyone with basic knowledge or internet access could make.”
Hotch called Garcia once more. “Can you start a search for women 35-55 who are married, ask the NSA if we can search through any women in the LA area googling how to make bombs in the last month.”
“Of course, I’ve also been looking at the past transactions of the specific ATMs that were targeted, 13 of the people depositing cash and cheques there, recently bought dresses from the store at The Grove.”
“Any of them look like they are partaking in an affair?” Y/N asked.
“2 of them are lesbian women, 3 are drag queens and the other 8 are girls in high school depositing birthday money,” Garcia explained.
“Well thanks for looking, hopefully, the NSA has some hits for us,” Hotch said as he hung up. “I guess we wait.”
11:56pm
“We’ve got reports of an explosion in an all-female dorm at UCLA,” one of the LA agents said as he burst through the door.
“Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi,” Hotch said, “go to the scene and find out everything.”
Y/N called Garcia, “as soon as we know what room the explosion was in I need you to go back 10 years of women who lived in that dorm room and their connections to older men. Sugar daddies, teachers, anyone.”
“The 911 call shortly after the bomb say it was heard on the first floor, possibly room 119 as that's where the blast was heard. Luckily the girl who was supposed to be in that room was with her friend down the hall so we currently have no casualties here,” Garcia explained.
“Thank god,” JJ exclaimed, placing her hand over her eyes.
“In the last 10 years, 6 different women have all had that room,” Garcia said as she narrowed down her search. “Okay, here we go this is the juicy stuff!”
“What is it?” Hotch asked.
“From 2000 to 2002 Maggie Burton was working on a science degree at UCLA. She was working part-time, both years, as the main Chemistry professor's teaching assistant, she was depositing money from him bi-weekly to Liberty Bank.”
“Okay, who was the professor?” Spencer asked.
“Michael Thompson, 56, but that would be too simple now wouldn’t it?” Penelope teased. “Thompson is gay and has been in a domestic partnership since 1998, his Partner Adam Pearson, however, is bisexual according to the sugar daddy website he’s on,” she explained further. “Whether Maggie knows it or not, she had been getting paid to be Thompson's TA, as well as his boyfriend sugar baby.”
“So our unsub is Michael Thompson?” Hotch confirmed.
“By the looks of it, yes. Maggie stopped being a TA when she graduated and now she works with a cosmetics developer downtown. Every week she deposits 500 cash to the ATM, which is the exact amount of cash Adam has been withdrawing for the last 7 years,” she kept explaining, they could hear her keyboard clicking as she kept digging. “Look’s like Adam is filing to remove the domestic partnership and he bought a ring last week.”
“There’s the trigger,” Spencer confirmed. “Do we have a home and work address as well as where the next bomb would be?”
“Adam checked into a Hilton hotel downtown, suite 613 which he has been booking once a month for the last 7 years,” Garcia confirmed. “Sending the locations now.”
“I need a bomb squad sent to the Hilton hotel, evacuations should be done floor by floor saving floor 6 for last, I need agents on floor 6 to evacuate all rooms, except for 613, quietly without making a scene.”
“Sir, suit 612 was booked only for tonight by Michael Thompson, using cash,” Garcia cut him off.
“All rooms but 612 and 613 are to be evacuated, I need a direct line on the scene to room 612 when we arrive,” Hotch ordered as they all hurried towards the elevator.
—
On the scene, Reid, Y/L/N and JJ were sent up with the bomb squad to floor 6. Red lights in the stairwell were flashing to alert that there was an evacuation taking place, but the building was silent.
There were 14 rooms on floor 6, 4 of them being rented that night. Rooms 601 and 608 were the only two they had to focus on to evacuate.
JJ quietly knocked on room 601, “Hi sir,” she whispered. “My name is Jennifer, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your necessities and any other guests in the room, an officer will escort you down the stairs. In the parking lot across the street, there are people issuing refunds and information about relocations for the night.”
The man nodded, he quickly grabbed his things and followed an officer down the hall.
Y/N knocked on 608 next, a young woman answered. “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor-“
“I have 2 kids with me,” she whispered.
“Okay, are they awake?” JJ asked.
“My daughter, she’s 2, she’s out cold. My son is watching TV, oh my god my husband isn’t here,” she quietly panicked.
“Ma’am it’s fine, we have officers here to assist you down the stairs and across the street, there are relocation preparations being made. If you don’t mind, I can help you carry your daughter down the stairs?” Spencer said softly.
“Yes, absolutely.” She said, running into the room to gather all her things.
Spencer lifted the little girl up softly, not waking her at all in the process. He held her against his chest softly while the mother grabbed their necessities and her 6-year-old son before followed Spencer down the stairs.
JJ and Y/N stood in the stairwell, Y/N picked up her radio and called down to Hotch. “All civilians on the 6th floor have been evacuated.”
“Any movement in 612?”
“Yes sir,” one of the bomb squad members said. “With our tech, we can see 2 bodies in 613 and 1 in 612, all alive.”
“Any idea how many bombs were talking about?” Hotch asked.
“Not yet, we need a clear look inside the room. Snipers on the building across the street say the blinds are closed,” he explained.
“Hotch, have you gotten in contact with him at all?” JJ asked.
“No, he won't pick up,” hotch confirmed.
“Would you like one of us to knock?” Y/N asked.
“Not yet, I want you both to come down. If we’re knocking on his door we need to have a full plan in place,” Hotch ordered.
“Over,” Y/N said. Following JJ back down the 6 flights of stairs.
Down at the base of operations, Spencer was still holding onto the 2-year-old as the mother called her husband. He shushed her and held her close with a blanket over her back as she slept.
“Hotch,” JJ got his attention. “I noticed each room has vents on the connected walls, is there any way to get into 611 and snake in a camera to see what we’re dealing with?”
“That was my next suggestion,” a SWAT office said as he shook her hand. “We’re prepping the equipment now.”
“Can we also spray a sleeping agent through the vents? If we knock out the unsub we can just drag him out and see what’s going on?” Y/N suggested.
“Yeah that would work,” the SWAT officer said, “we have a sleeping agent in a compressed gas form that we can spray through the vents.”
“Okay, just in 612,” Hotch confirmed. Y/N I want you and Morgan up there to assist in making sure Maggie and Adam are evacuated safely while the bomb squad looks at what we have going on.”
“On it,” she and Morgan said at the same time.
One of the SWAT officers pulled them aside, handing them protective gear for the gas that will erupt into the hallway. She waved to Spencer in the lot as she headed across the street with the SWAT team. They ran up the stairs, it was exhausting but Y/N pushed through, up the six flights. They quietly unlocked room 611 and filled the room with officers.
First, they snaked a small camera through the vent, the image showing on the screen right away, “you seeing this Hotch?” Morgan asked over the radio.
“Crystal.”
“It’s a wall of C4,” one of the Bomb Squad officers quietly confirmed. “Fairly simple to dismantle, it looks like it’s a manual switch. Wait till he crosses the room, and then spray the gas. We need officers to be in the room as it’s sprayed. He needs to hit the floor nowhere close to the detonator.”
Morgan quietly opened the door and assembled the team in the hall, making movements with his hands as he instructed the men. The door kicker was in place, the officers were ready to file in.
The swat agent deployed the gas, they watched on the monitor as the unsub turned to look at the hissing sound, inspecting it before hitting the ground.
“NOW!” Morgan yelled. The door was knocked in and the unsub was in handcuffs.
Y/N ran to 613, knocking on the door as hard as she could. “FBI OPEN UP!” She yelled.
A half-naked man opened the door, “what?” He yelled.
“We need to evacuate the building right now, cover-up and follow me.” She ordered as the two victims covered themselves and followed her down the stairs.
Halfway down, she got a call over the radio. “Bomb has been defused, all clear on floor 6.”
“Bomb?” The man questioned.
“Yes sir,” Y/N confirmed. “your partner, and your science teacher, Michael Thompson, has been bombing places around the city that you two have been to, and was planning to blow you up tonight.”
“What the fuck?” Maggie asked.
“He’s under arrest, you’ll have your chance to ask him questions in court,” Y/N confirmed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
She held the door for them and watched as they were whisked away by EMTs. She waited for another set for the unsub before turning around and running all the way back up the 6 flights to Morgan.
Morgan was standing over the cuffed, unconscious, unsub in the hallway. “Good job pretty girl!” Morgan high-fived her.
“Thanks,” she smiled, “let's get this bastard down into the ambulance. The elevators should go back up in a minute.”
“What? No more stairs?” Morgan teased.
“I might not be able to feel my legs tomorrow, I’ve been up and down those too many times tonight!” She smacked him.
“Sure that’s why,” he laughed as they waited for the elevator.
—
Spencer and Y/N packed up that night and took a short trip back to Los Vegas. By the time they arrived back on her parent's doorstep it was 5:32 am. 12 hours since they were last there.
She sighed at the front door and called her parent's home phone. “Hello?” Her father's sleep-ridden voice answered.
“Hey dad, it’s Y/N can you come open the front door for me? Please.” She asked nicely.
“Yep.” He hung up.
She watched the hall light come on from the front door. Waiting for him to slowly make his way down the stairs to the front hallway. He unlocked the door and welcomed them in.
“Your mom cleaned off your bed in case this happened,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
“5:30, go back up to bed, we’ll lock back up, thank you,” she hugged him and sent him on his way.
She sighed and sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She tugged her boots off and left them in the hallway. Spencer picked them up and moved them to be in order with the rest of the shoes. He locked her parent's front door and turned off the entryway light.
“You need water or anything before bed?” Y/N asked.
“No, come on,” he took her hand and walked with up the stairs to her bedroom.
She closed the door behind him, peeling out of her clothes and climbing into bed first. She got under the covers and moved the pillows around to make sure they were how she liked them.
Spencer crawled in beside her, wearing just his socks and underwear. He laid flat on his back while she cuddled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath as he settled into relaxation finally.
“I love you,” she reminded him.
“I love you, more.”
299 notes
·
View notes
Text
title : cigarettes and parfaits [3]
pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro]
Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au
Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?
Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs
Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!
Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next]
[updates; every saturday!]
“Y/N-chan!!!”
You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?
“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”
You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?
“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.
“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”
“So you don’t really remember?”
“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”
He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!
“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.
“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”
Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”
“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”
Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.
“Maybe you guys should try it out.”
The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring
“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.
“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”
“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.
“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”
“Well, I technically did marry you.”
“You were drunk.”
“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”
Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.
There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.
“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’
It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.
“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”
Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.
“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after.
As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)
“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance, “Are you alright?”
He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.
“Yeah.” he roughly replies.
“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”
Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.
Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.
You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.
No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.
“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.
You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.
“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”
You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”
“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”
“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”
“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.
“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”
“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”
The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.
You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.
It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-
“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.
All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.
Oh no.
Oh no, indeed.
There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory; crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.
“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.
Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.
“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”
You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?
Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.
Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.
“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.
“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.
You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.
“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”
“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”
You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.
“I understand. Thank you for that.”
“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”
You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.
Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”
“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”
You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”
“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”
You blinked.
Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”
You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.
“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”
“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”
“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”
“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”
Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.
“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”
You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!
“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”
“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”
You needed to get out of this conversation quick.
“Kento.”
Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.
“What?”
“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”
“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”
“Bye Y/N.”
He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?
taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]
; @coldbookworm ; @frankenstein852 ; @neavil ; @shephard17895 @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @pettybroccoli ; @nixxona ; @kiyoo-omi ; @omibaby ; @bokkunto ; @peccobagnaia ; @sangwoahbigbussy ;
@Kurok1717 ; @hcn421 ; @shinhiromi ; @airybnb ; @katshuya ; @atsuhaya
#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk imagines#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#cigarettes and parfaits
473 notes
·
View notes
Text
TCATC Chap. 6; A Celestial gift
*Author’s note*
Sorry about not updating this story last night folks, my internet was acting VERY slow and I was starting to get annoyed with it, but now I seemed to have worked it out (for now) and so I will deliver 6 chapters for you guys tonight before I go on a little hiatus with updates for I’ve got a convention this weekend GALAXY CON!! So this weekend I hope you all enjoy these several chapters I have in store for you all before I get back to updating on Monday (if I feel like it, i’ll have a long day of work then so we’ll see how I feel then if not then expect updates to resume on Tues.) Now enjoy this next chapter my lovelies :)
NEXT CHAPTER HERE
Taglist:
@plethora-of-things
@waddles03
@psychosupernatural
@ixchel-9275
@queensdivas
@queen-paladin
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels
@peter-parkers-cullen-nerd
___________________________________________________________
As the sun rose higher every one of us was finishing up or have already gotten fully dressed after finding all our clothes. I separated myself from the rest of the group so that I could put my suit back on and bless Gandalf for standing guard for me until I got myself decent enough to call him away.
After refastening one of my Celestial gauntlet and making sure no gem was missing or out of place, I left and fastened up the last one. I saw Gandalf standing in front of one of the troll before knocking it’s nose with his staff.
“Now these creatures I never cared for turning to stone.” Gandalf softly chuckled at my statement.
“Where did you go to if I may ask?” Thorin asked us as he came up towards us, fully dressed.
“To look ahead.” Gandalf replied.
“What brought you back?” Thorin asked again.
“Looking behind.” Thorin nodded once to the old wizard in gratitude. “Nasty business, still they’re all in one piece.”
“No thanks to your burglar. It was the Celestial who helped save our hides.” I narrowed my eyes at Thorin and I told him as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“He was the only one out of 14 of you to help me play for time. Now tell me again just who was it that saved your hides?” I tilted my head slightly challenging him. Sure I may have played a part in buying Gandalf time, but it was Bilbo Baggins that continued my rouse. Not even I could’ve came up with a good excuse like parasites and poison the way he did.
“They must’ve come down from the Ettenmoors.” Gandalf piped in before Thorin and I could rip each other’s throats out.
“Since when do Mountain trolls venture this far south?” asked Thorin.
“Ooh not for an age. Not since a dark power ruled these lands.” Gandalf replied before his tone turned ominous. I looked at him with my eyes slowly widening.
No he—he couldn’t be suggesting…
“They could not have moved in daylight.” Gandalf spoke as he looked up at the sky which lead Thorin to answer.
“There must be a cave nearby.” We searched for a few minutes and it was then we were hit with the foulest thing I had ever smelt before in my entire life. A troll hoard.
Gandalf, Thorin, Bofur, Nori, Glóin, and Dwalin went inside to investigate. I held my nose and turned away and stood by the others.
“Not brave enough to venture in a troll cave?” teased Fili.
“I would rather bathe in orc blood than go down there. One time my brother Kingo was dared to go into one by my little sister Sprite. Poor fool ended up smelling like troll for the next 100 years.” I nudged him. The brothers chuckled softly and I laughed at the memory. “Ikaris wouldn’t even let him near the dinner table with us cause the smell was that horrible. He believed his must’ve stepped on troll waste.”
“Oh you don’t mean…..” Kili laughed but also cringed. I nodded as both brothers exclaimed in disgust.
“Poor guy.” Fili laughed.
“But it definitely brightened up Sprite’s century after that. That girl was always causing some sort of trouble. Like two dwarves I happen to know.” They both gawked at me when suddenly I felt something. I stood up and looked down at the troll cave and could feel a familiar aura of power. “It can’t be.” I whispered.
“It can’t be what?” asked Kili. I didn’t respond to them.
“Hela?” Fili spoke to me as he touched my arm. Carefully I ventured down into the troll cave and walked along passing Gandalf and the handful of dwarves that went down there.
“Hela? Hela! Hela wait what is it?” Kili asked me. I could feel the power growing stronger and stronger. Soon I came upon an assortment of various weapons. Ranging from Elvish made to Orc fashioned, Dwarvish irons and Man’s steel. I looked through each sword, dagger and knife until I saw it.
Aeglos. The famous spear used by the last High King of Ñoldor, Gil-Galad. This spear hasn’t been seen since the War of the Last Alliance when Gil-Galad made his final stand and from there it had never been found again.
This beautiful nine foot long spear with the blade etched in brass filigree, and the handle made from dark wood but polished to a shine it could pass off as steel. I slowly walked up towards it and there I saw the famed Elvish engraving on the blade itself.
Gil-galad ech vae vaegannen matha
Aith heleg nín i orch gostatha
Nin cíniel na nguruthos
Hon ess nín istatha:
Aeglos
Which translates to:
“Gil-galad wields a well-made spear
The Orc will fear my point of ice
When he sees me, in fear of death
He will know my name:
Aeglos”.
But not only was I entranced by seeing the spear of a Lost King, but of what was radiating off of it. Celestial Magic. I reached out and took the spear in my hand before the circles and symbols of my kin formed around me.
I was lifted up a few feet off the ground and I could feel the Celestial magic surrounding me, as well as a voice in my head.
‘My power rests with you now אחות קטנה.’ Thena. Soon Celestial energy came out from Aeglos and shot straight into the empty spot at the top of left gauntlet. A stone soon began to form from the Celestial magic and my outfit began to change as well.
The stone soon fit a perfect white gem shape that if hit in the light correctly, you could see the gold shine to it. I landed on the ground, the Celestial magic finally fading away from me and I looked down to see that I was now wearing Thena’s uniform.
A gold circlet that fit snug against my forehead. It came down in a downward curve to where it met a circle that held the symbol of the War Celestials. A circle with a straight line going through it and another line going behind it. The line visible shown represents the spear while the one behind represents the hidden sword. For the Celestials of War never fight with just one weapon alone.
The attire was all whitish-silver color with golden armor plates around the chest that then curved like an hourglass down the stomach, shoulders, and forearm gauntlets. Two long and elegant flaps at my front and back that came down to about my ankles. I looked down at my hands to see that Aeglos was now being fused with a Celestial magic covering.
War Celestials can make any weapons or shield with their own Celestial magic, or in this case, they can encase a (im)mortal weapon with a special Celestial protection spell so that they would never break nor falter.
War Celestials were known for their weaponry skills and fighting styles, in fact they trained the very first Elves how to fight (and I know I shouldn’t mention this but Gil-Galad and Thena had a Courtship going on before the War of the Last Alliance). Guess that’s why her magic was found in his spear, she always did favor forging a spear above anything else.
“Hela, are you al—whoa.” I turned to see Fili and Kili standing there and staring at me in awe.
“Guys, remember how you told me you’d always find what you’re looking for when you’re not trying so hard to look for it?” they nodded softly, both their mouths still slightly opened at seeing my new attire. “It would seem I’ve found what I’ve been looking for. I’d like to introduce; my eldest sister Thena’s magic.” I summoned a shield to my left hand while I slammed Aeglos onto the ground which actually made a sound even on the slimy mud of the earth.
“The Celestial of War?” asked Fili. I nodded with a look of determination in my eye.
“Absolutely beautiful, yet deadly at the same time.” Kili said to me. I smirked at him before making the shield disappear as well as the protection spell around Aeglos.
“Come on, let’s regroup with the others.” I lead them out of the troll hoard and that’s when I saw Thorin and the few dwarves finally start to leave. Fili and Kili followed behind their uncle while I came up to Gandalf. He turned to me and said.
“It would seem you’ve found Thena’s Celestial magic.”
“That’s not all I found.” I showed him Aeglos and he looked at it confused until he finally recognized it. I nodded confirming with him that it was what it was.
“Her powers could not have been in a more worthy weapon. Nor would the weapon itself find a new bearer such as you.”
“As much as I would love to keep this weapon, it belongs with the Elves. Perhaps Lord Elrond would like to keep it, after all he and Gil-Galad were friends.”
“If that is what you wish. Come my dear, let’s get out of this foul place.”
“Agreed.” I walked on ahead but as Gandalf walked just a step ahead he looked down at the ground and moved some of the earth with the bottom of his staff. I turned back towards him and said his name. He bent down and picked up a small Elvish sword that looked like it could be wielded by a Hobbit.
He turned to me and I shrugged my head at him. He could have it but who knows if he’ll want to use it. But in this journey he may not have a choice, which is why I’ll give him the basic lessons on how to wield a blade.
We left the troll cave and I was finally able to be rid of the foul stench of troll surrounding me.
“Bilbo.” Gandalf called out to him. He turned around to face us as he came up to us. “Here, this is about your size.” He looked down at the sword before looking up at him and taking the sword cautiously in his hand. He looked at it like it was something so valuable that he felt so unworthy of it.
“I can’t take this.” He said offering it back to Gandalf.
“Bilbo, the blade is of Elvish make. That means it’ll glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby.” I told him.
“I have never used a sword before in my life Hela. And-and di-did you change armors?” I held up my left gauntlet to show it all the slots had been filled with the recent white gem that took the top spot along the center of my hand.
“Truthfully Bilbo, I hope you never have to. But let me tell you something my sister Thena once told me. ‘True courage is never about knowing when to take a life, but knowing when to spare one’.” I softly smiled at him and cupped the side of his face, stroking his cheek with my thumb.
I truly have grown fond of this hobbit. He was filled with many surprises Gandalf was right about that, but he was also clever, brave, and had a heart of true-gold. If more people and beings were like Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, the world would be a far kinder place.
“Something’s coming!” Thorin said as we heard the sound of birds being startled. Gandalf and I looked to each other and gave a nod. He withdrew his newfound sword while I twirled Aeglos in my hand as Gandalf told the dwarves to arm themselves for whatever was coming our way.
We left the troll cave and gathered around in a circle through a thick part of the forest. Suddenly I caught sight of a bunch of rabbits, big ones, coming out from the shrub. And pulling behind them was a sled and on that sled was a man in brown robes.
“THIEVES! FIRE! MURDER!!” the man exclaimed out as his sled came to a halt. I got a better look at him and recognized him immediately.
“Radagast. It’s Radagast the Brown.” Gandalf spoke up as he put his sword back in its sheath. Gandalf and I walked towards him and Gandalf asked him, “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you Gandalf. And you as well my Lady Hela.” He told us urgently as he got off his sled. “Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.”
“Yes?” Gandalf and I softly chorused together. Radagast went to continue his statement before his face fell as the thought had immediately left his mind. He kept opening and closing his mouth before he said.
“Just give me a minute.” He muttered and tapped on his temple before groaning. “Oh. I had a thought and-and now I’ve lost it. It was there on the tip of my tongue. Oh!” he exclaimed. His tongue curling inward as he poked it out. “It’s not a thought at all, it’s a silly little….stick insect.” Gandalf took the insect out from Radagast’s mouth before placing it on his hand.
“Radagast my friend, take my advice and find your animal friends new homes that don’t require being on your person, much less inside you.” I told him. Odd fella as we Celestials have always known Radagast the Brown but it’s always best to heed his word for he is still a wizard none the less, and if he is worried about something (and that’s sometimes a rare case) then Gandalf and I must heed him out.
The three of us separated ourselves from the company, Gandalf smoking on Old Toby whilst I was getting use to spinning Aeglos in my hand.
“The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf and Hela. A darkness has fallen over it, nothing grows anymore. At least nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worse are the webs.”
“Webs? What do you mean?” asked Gandalf.
“Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a wizard. I followed their trail. They came from —Dol Guldur.” hearing that name, I ceased my spear spinning and Gandalf stopped smoking his pipe.
“Dol Guldur? No that’s impossible. The old fortress has been abandoned for thousands of years.” I told him.
“No my lady Hela. Tis not. A dark power dwells in there such as I have never felt before. It is the shadow of an ancient horror. One that can summon the spirits of the dead.”
What? That’s not possible. The only being that is able to conjure the spirits of the dead is me. The Celestial of Death and there has never been another Celestial like me, not then nor ever since my kin perished when Sauron made his last stand in Mordor.
“I saw him, Gandalf and Hela. From out of the darkness….a Necromancer has come.” In his last statement he had this far-off look off horror as he remembered what had happened to him at that horrible place. He jumped as he snapped out of his trance before apologizing to us.
“Try a little Old Toby. It’ll help settle your nerves.” Gandalf wiped the end of his pipe with his beard before offering it to Radagast. He took a big drag in, his eyes going cross-eyed as he took in too much smoke than what you would normally want to take. “And out.” Radagast then had a pleasant look on his face as he exhaled, smoke coming out from his nose and his ears.
“Now Radagast, a Necromancer? Are you absolutely sure that’s what you saw?” I asked him. His eyes narrowed and his face grew serious as he took something out from his robes.
It was a brown tarp sack tied and roped up. It about the size of a medium sized dagger, it even looked to be in the shape of one too. He presented it to me, I looked between him and this dagger and reached out to grab it.
But as soon as I touched it I was greeted with a flash of a face I had never wanted to see ever again, as well as heard the agonizing scream of death itself. I shuddered and panted heavily, my mouth gaped in horror.
“You of all people would know, that is not from the world of the Living.” He told me in a serious tone. Gandalf placed a comforting hand to both my shoulder and cheek trying to get me to calm down as he went ahead and took the blade from Radagast.
However things would go from bad to worse as a howl rang out from the forest.
“Was that a wolf? Are-are there wolves out there?” asked Bilbo.
“Wolves? No that is not a wolf.” Bofur, the dwarf who was always so optimistic, spoke with absolute terror. A twig snapped and coming up from behind the two of them was a Gundabad Warg. It snarled and headed straight for Thorin but he and Dwalin managed to kill it.
Another one soon came up behind Thorin but Kili was quick with his bow and shot an arrow dead in it’s neck making it trip and roll down the rest of the hill. The Warg snarled and Dwalin and Thorin ended that one quickly as well.
“Warg scouts! Which means an orc pack is not far behind.” Oh great!
“Orc pack!?” Bilbo repeated in shocked tone.
“Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?” Gandalf demanded of Thorin as he walked up to the dwarf king.
“No one.” Thorin replied.
“Who did you tell!?” Gandalf demanded again in a more angry tone, demanding that Thorin not lie to him.
“No one, I swear. What in Durin’s name is going on?”
“You’re being hunted.” Gandalf replied.
“We have to get out of here.” Dwalin said.
“We can’t!” Ori’s voice spoke up as he and Bifur came down the hill. “We have no ponies, they bolted.” Warg-riders and no ponies, these dwarves were gonna be good as dead especially without ponies to give them additional speed.
“I’ll draw them off.” Radagast spoke up.
“These are Gundabad wargs, they will outrun you.” Gandalf interjected.
“These are Rhosgobel rabbits.” Radagast replied with a cocky-like attitude. “I’d like to see them try.”
“I’m coming with you.” I added.
“Hela don’t be a fool. Not that we don’t doubt your fighting skills, but you can’t take on an orc pack by yourself. Can you even master your sister’s abilities that long?” Fili said to me.
“I won’t be using Thena’s Celestial powers against the orcs.” I lifted up my right gauntlet and the red gem glowed as my uniform shifted from Thena’s Celestial armor to Makkari’s. I turned to Gandalf and signed to him.
‘I’ll also make sure Radagast stays ahead should things go sideways.’ He nodded and signed back to me.
‘Can you be sure you’ll be able to maintain your speed?’
‘Makkari and Druig’s Celestials powers come most easier to me since we were born at the same time. As my twin brother and sister I know they won’t fail me.’ I gave him a wink as I patted Radagast on the back and we took off running.
*3rd Person POV*
“Gandalf, what was that you and Hela were doing?” asked Bilbo.
“Celestial sign language. When Hela inherits her twin sister Makkari’s power she has to sacrifice her hearing.”
“But if she can’t hear, how will she know where the orcs and wargs are coming from?!” Kili asked worriedly.
“I wouldn’t worry too much master Kili. For her sister Makkari has a reason for needing to be deaf. Now come on all of you let’s get a move on!”
#the hobbit#the hobbit fandom#the hobbit fanfic#the hobbit fanfiction#bilbo baggins#bilbo baggins x reader#bilbo baggins x oc#fili#fili imagine#fili imagines#kili#kili imagine#kili imagines#kili x oc#kili x reader#fili x reader#fili x oc#tolkien#tolkien fandom#tolkien fanfic#tolkien fanfiction#tolkien imagine#tolkien imagines#bilbo baggins imagine#bilbo baggins imagines#thorin oakenshield
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stranger || Bakugou x Reader || { Anon Request } || Stalking
TW: Cursing || Stalking || Threats of violence || Implied desire for Non-Con (not from Bakugou tho)
Word Count: 5.5K
It started after the Sport Festival.
A DM that had been sent to your private social media account - a friend from your old school named Honoka. You hadn’t spoken to her since starting UA - and the moment you saw the notification, you felt guilty that this was how she had to reach out to you. She had been so proud of you when you got accepted, she almost started crying, hugging you tightly and telling you as much. She asked you to keep in contact in High School. You had promised her you would.
You had been so busy, it was hard keeping promises.
Honoka: Hey! I saw you on the TV - you were amazing! I can’t believe they wouldn’t let you pass onto the finals. Good thing though - you would have gone against that asshole.
Honoka: Not that you couldn’t have handled it!
It should have tipped you off that one of the quieter kids of school would have used such language, but it didn’t. It had been a few months since starting high school and people have changed faster. You didn’t think much about it aside from replying before your train pulled into the station. You might miss your stop and be late to school.
You were always punctual and refused to have something as stupid as that go against your record.
You waited until you were off the train, standing on the steps before sending a quick message.
Thanks! It was really terrifying. But I lost fair and square. Besides, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t make it to the finals. So I guess it’s okay. :)
You decided not to humor her comment about Bakugou. While it drew a hot, angry tie around your neck, part of you understood. Honoka wasn’t alone in thinking he was...less than pleasant. It had been a point of contention, something that bothered you both that day and since. People were just wrong about him. She didn’t know him like Class 1-A did. A few short clips from some televised sports festival didn’t do him nearly the justice he was deserved.
You didn’t have enough time to put your phone back in your jacket pocket when it buzzed again.
Honoka: Still.
Honoka: You were so strong. We all think they should have made an exception for you.
Honoka: We should meet up sometime. Gtg! Text me after school to set up a time!
You wanted to question it but you didn’t.
You really should have questioned it.
King Explosion Murder was a perfectly good name.
Miss Midnight just doesn’t understand art.
The conversation had been going on for a hour. It was the longest that you and Bakugou had texted. You had moved from a group text to your own private thread. He didn’t text you like normal boys did - no pictures, no emojis, no stupid memes he had found. It was...conversation, one that hadn’t been as hard to keep going as you thought. you tried to distract yourself with school work while he replied, but found it hard not to keep your attention on your screen as the text bubble flashed.
Bakugou: It was better than “Deku”.
Well Deku was less violent
Bakugou: AND IT WAS STILL BETTER
Bakugou: THAN FUCKING DEKU’S
Honoka: You still up?
You stopped. Honoka? Why on earth was she texting you...oh shit. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and kicking yourself for forgetting to text her back like she had asked. You had been so wrapped up texting Bakugou since getting home that it just completely slipped your mind. Though, to be fair, most things slipped your mind around him.
You opened your chat with her, trying to figure out how to apologize without seeming like too much of an asshole.
Hey, yeah, sorry.
I started talking to one of my classmates and totally forgot.
My bad, dood.
Once again, she replied quickly.
Honoka: Who were you talking to?
There was a small part of you that wanted to ask her why it was her business, but you bit your tongue. She probably didn’t mean anything by it and some residual bitterness from her comment this morning was probably lingering. You took a deep breath.
Bakugou.
We workshopped hero names today. His got shot down by our teacher.
It was so sad. 🤣🤣🤣
Honoka: Why are you talking to him?
It wasn’t a question, not really. It was a statement. Like you talking to Bakugou was taboo, you could practically hear her grasping her pearls. You shouldn’t have had to explain to her why you were talking anyone, let alone him, and it bothered you that she felt she was owed that right. That she even dare ask the question. Your brow furrowed as you sat up in bed.
What do you mean?
Honoka: Why are you talking to him? He seems like an dick
Honoka: And isn’t good for you.
Honoka: You need to focus on being the best hero you can be.
Honoka: He seems like he would only drag you down.
Rage filled your stomach. Your hands were shaking as you tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. She had never acted this way before...right? She had always been so nice and meek and unassuming and...
You were confused, finding yourself chewing on your lip as you tried to make sense of what the hell you were seeing.
He’s my friend. I really like him.
Look, he’s not as mean as he appears on TV. He’s actually a really good guy. And he’s really smart and he’s going to be a better hero than even me some day.
So I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about him like that.
The chat bubble popped up. Then disappeared. Then popped up. And disappeared again.
It’s funny - you had never felt so threatened by someone not answering. But as the bubble flashed for a final time, something told you that you had fucked up.
Honoka was always quiet, yes, but she was also amazingly sweet. She cried when you were little kids at the ending scene in All Dog’s Go to Heaven, always scrounged up change to donate to someone on the street looking for food, and volunteered every weekend to help with the younger students struggling in studies. She hadn’t been born with a mean bone in her body.
But by the end of the week, you were certain the person messaging you wasn’t the same Honoka you knew. She had changed - and not for the better. Not in the slightest. She was growing more insistent that you talk to her - every night. And if you didn’t?
The calls were incessant. One after the other until you finally had to shut your ringer off. And the voicemails - she never spoke. Just let it sit for a moment before hanging up. And you were grateful for it - you didn’t want to talk to her. Every chance she got, she showered you with praise and adoration while slinging hate at all your friends in 1-A. But no one got it like Bakugou did.
Honoka: Stop talking to him.
It’s not any of your damn business who I’m talking to.
Honoka: If you don’t stop talking to him, I’ll tell him what a whore you were in Middle School.
The water of your bath was scalding, but that didn’t stop you from shaking. Why was she doing this to you? Why was she so adamant about making your life miserable? This wasn’t Honoka - not even in the slightest.
I’m blocking you. Leave me alone.
Don’t talk to me anymore.
No matter what, he was pure evil to Honoka. He was disgusting, arrogant, rude, a monster, a villain hiding in sheep's clothing and would do nothing but drag you down. He would hurt you, she said.
Honoka: Go ahead. I’ll just make other accounts.
She was as good as her word. At least that hadn’t changed.
Your classmates were starting to take notice. After the first few accounts were blocked, she started using a calling app to randomly call you - only to hang up the moment you answered. Sometimes it was once a night, supplemented with texts about what a no good, lying whore you were. About how you were just some slut who’s opening you legs for the first guy who gave you any attention.
Honoka: Fucking skank.
Honoka: You’re so fucking worthless.
Honoka: You fucking him? Is that it? Is that why you want to defend him so bad?
Honoka: He’s probably fucking every other girl in your class.
Other times, the calls were every hour on the hour. It had gotten so bad, that you started sleeping in later and later.
You raced through the empty halls, trying to will time to back up. You had slept in, missing your first train. When you got on the second one, you fell back asleep until the stop after yours. The only thing you could do was get off and just run to school as fast as you could. Class had started 20 minutes ago. This had never happened before - in your whole life. You were always meticulous about getting to class early.
You were a good student. A good person. You were.
“Well, look who decided to join us.” Mr. Aizawa didn’t even bother to hide the annoyance in his voice. It made it all the more terrible
You wanted to cry. You felt the eyes of everyone in your class fall on you. It made your skin squirm, your stomach flip. You wanted to turn around and just...run home. To crawl into your bed and...
You bowed low, your head almost hitting the floor. “I’m so sorry I’m late, sir! It won’t happen again!”
“Be sure that it doesn’t.” His glare hardened. “We’ll talk after class about your punishment.”
Punishment. Shit. You couldn’t speak, resigning to solemnly nodding as you making the walk of shame to your seat, collapsing down. You had to take a minute, to steady your breath. To try and collect yourself. At least at school, you had an excuse not to answer her texts. To ignore her and pretend like she wasn’t out there being fucking crazy. School was safe. School was free from it all.
Almost by habit, you turned and looked over at Bakugou. A small part of you was praying that he was looking at you. That his glare would ground you in a way only it knew how. But when your eyes met...the only thing you felt was misery.
You fucking him? Is that it?
Your heart raced, panic flooded your nerves, and all you wanted to do was run. Get away from everyone and just...just go to sleep. You just wanted to sleep. But Honoka wasn’t allowing that. You couldn’t stop thinking about half of the things she said while the other half had been resting heavily in your stomach, making you sick. She was stealing everything from you.
You’re a fucking slut opening her legs for the first guy who gives you attention. And of course it had to be that fucking dog.
No...no you couldn’t look at him for too long, afraid that he would know. Terrorized as you were, you couldn’t run the risk of him finding out. Because...what if she messaged him first? What if she told him all of her lies and...what if he believed her?
No. No, that couldn’t happen.
You pulled away from his stare, folding in on yourself. Just get out your books. Focus on class and get out your books. Your phone dinged and your blood ran cold. You dreaded even looking at it, but as you tugged out your notebook, the piece of plastic fell, resting against the back of your bag. It was as if some higher power was damning you to be always aware of the vitriol Honoka was spewing in your direction. The lock screen shone bright: 21 missed texts, 44 missed calls. But the most recent message sent horror down your spine.
Honoka: Naughty girl, sleeping in late for school.
You slipped out of the lunch room and made your way down the hall. You were going to put an end to this - once and for all. You didn’t know what game Honoka was playing at, but whatever it was, you were fucking done. She was starting to seep into every facet of your life and it was ending now. Right then, in that hallway.
When you got a safe distance away from the double doors, to ensure no one could hear you when you started screaming, you searched through your contacts for her number. When you finally found it however...
God, just looking at her name made you sick. The fact her contact picture was of you and her, eating ice cream at a beach, grinning and giving the camera a peace sign, posing as only 12 year old girls knew how, it drove a knife into your chest, twisting it even deeper the longer you stared at it. She was making your life a living hell. It wasn’t right, it didn’t make any fucking sense. Why was she doing this to you? Did you do something to her? Were you cruel in your last interaction? Did you make a joke that went so poorly that she decided the only way to get back at you was to ruin your entire life? To push you so close to the edge that...
She going out of her way to make your life a living hell and for what?
Well, no better time like the present to find out.
Your thumb slammed down on the dial button. Each ring was like nails on chalk board.
Her voice was even worse.
She said your name so surprised, before crying it out in joy. “Oh my god, it’s been so long!”
Well...that...wasn’t...true?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Honoka went silent on the other end of the phone. “Uh...are you okay?”
“You’ve been harassing me since the festival and you’re just going to act like-”
“Wait...what?”
“The thousands of texts!? The millions of calls!?”
She didn’t answer. You couldn’t help the grin that spread over your face. You fucking got her. You caught her in her bullshit lie and she didn’t have anything to say for it. You hated to admit it, but part of you was excited to hear how she was going to explain it way. How she was going to break down and finally you could tell her off and it was going to stop and you could get a good night’s sleep and maybe your mom could make your favorite curry and you would be able to eat it and not throw it up later and -
“I haven’t been texting you.”
Well...you couldn’t have said you were expecting that. You stopped, staring at your feet. “I...what?”
“I...haven’t been calling you. Or texting you.” She said, her voice - that ever familiar voice - filled with worry.
...of course she would be worried. She was always so fucking nice.
“Yes you have!!” You shouted, gritting your teeth.
She said your name, so softly and so calmly, “No. I haven’t. I promise you, I haven’t. Are you okay? Is everything alright?”
The phone vibrated in your fingers and the screen lit up once more. Another unknown number was calling you. You didn’t hesitate and for the first time since this all began you answered the her-him-they-it.
“What!?” You screamed, pressing the phone to your ear. You strained to hear, to try and find out who was doing this to you. “What do you want!? Why are you doing this to me!? Leave me alone!!!”
...click!
The dial tone felt like a death sentence.
The hallway shrunk and expanded, growing larger and darker - like the mouth of the beast, it was going to swallow you whole. You pressed your phone to your forehead, slumped to the floor and realized...you were crying. No, not just crying. You were sobbing, each one wracking your body and shaking your bones. Shit...shit, shit, shit. You just wanted to go back to the way things were. You wanted it to stop, wanted whoever was doing this to leave you alone and -
Your phone buzzed again. Another message.
Another sob rocked your body, but you found the strength to turn it back into view.
UNKNOWN NUMBER :: [ MULTIMEDIA MESSAGE ]
Your fingers trembled so hard you almost dropped the phone. You didn’t want to look at whatever it was. Whoever was doing to you was fucking sick, was deranged and psychotic and out of their mind and...you had to do something about it. Maybe you could tell a teacher? But what could they do about it? Up security? Just for you? No, it was entirely out of the question. You couldn’t go to the police - since who ever this was hadn’t physically done anything to harm you.
You were on your own.
You opened the message.
It was your house. The sun was setting. Then another. This one was early in the morning. Then another. And another. Another another another another another another another another another different angles, different times of day...but all focused on one spot.
Your bedroom. Sometimes it was empty, but other times you were in shot. Sometimes working on homework, sometimes sitting with your cat on the window sill, other times pulling your shirt above your head, reaching behind your back for your bra and...
UNKOWN NUMBER : Stop ignoring me.
Your phone clattered to the floor as you gripped your hair, trying to steady your breathing. In two three fours, Out two three fours. In two three fours, Out two three-
“Hey.”
The scream was involuntary, as was backing against the lockers so hard that you slammed your head against them. Bakugou recoiled, staring at you, his eyes wide with surprise. It didn’t last long, quickly overtaken by gritted teeth and snarls. “The hell is your-”
He must have noticed the tears, the absolute panic on your face. The silence fell over the two of you, the echo of your scream now long gone. You wished you were. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face the shame of what was happening. How could you explain it.
“You alright?”
You pulled your legs up to you chest, hugging them tightly. “No,” You replied.
Bakugou was never one for consolations. So you were almost surprised when all he made his way over to where you were sitting and sat down beside you. You flinched, only a little, but it didn’t seem to bother him none. He shoved his hands in his pockets, but didn’t say a word, his bright red eyes focused out the window across from you. You...were grateful. For the first time in almost two weeks, you didn’t feel entirely vulnerable. Like everything was crumbling down around you. And in this small moment of peace, you felt horribly exhausted. Your mind ached, your body was sore, your eyes were so red and...and...
You rested against his shoulder and he didn’t make a move to stop you. It was like Bakugou was putting himself between you and...whoever was stalking you.
Stalking you. You had a stalker.
You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You offered.
“For what?” He barked.
“For crying.”
He didn’t answer for a moment, “Tch. Yeah, well...maybe suck it the hell up. Whatever it is, it’s not a big deal.”
Not a big...you turned to look at him, eyes narrowing. “Not a big deal...?”
He looked at you, a bored and disgruntled expression on his face. “Yeah.”
“It’s kind of a big fucking deal.”
“Oh yeah? Well then what the hell is it?”
“Whoa, it’s that kid who just won the Sports Festival!”
“Oh, wow! He’s so much scarier in person!”
“Do you think he would be mad if I asked for an autograph?”
“Yeah! Look at his mug - he’s obviously pissed off about something!”
Bakugou had stayed late, even through your detention, to walk you home. It was nearly dark now as you walked side by side down your street. The sun was struggling to peak over the row of houses and a purple ink had settled over the top of the sky.
It was taking everything in you not to apologize...again. He didn’t need to be dragged into your mess. But...shit, it wasn’t like you weren’t ecstatic that he offered to walk you home back in the hallway. He was a terrifying presence, unstoppable. As he stalked down the road towards your house, a scowl on his face as his eyes peered around every corner, it hit you that you felt safer now than you had the past few weeks.
“Hey.” You picked up the pace, making sure to stay close. “Thank you again. I just-”
“Ugh, stop thanking me!” He glared at you.
“I’m just-” You sighed and gripped your bag straps. “I...I don’t see the point of you walking me home. Not...that I don’t appreciate it, I just...won’t that make him mad?”
Bakugou scoffed. “That’s the point, you idiot.”
Sometimes, you thought you almost understood him. But then he blew up Rome and screamed at you to start over tomorrow morning. You stared at him in confusion though ultimately decided you didn’t have the energy to argue. You were just...thankful that he was here.
“This is me.” Your house was a small thing, nestled on the corner and surrounded by a garden that was meticulously maintained by your mom while you were at school and your father was at work. Sometimes the pictures had her in the shot, busy at work. Your lips thinned as you stared up at the second story window, Your white curtains lay still and your cat stared down at you, like she knew something was wrong. Like she knew...that things were amiss.
Well...Bakugou came all this way and the guy didn’t have the guts to show himself. As you had figured, you had completely wasted his time. It wasn’t like he was going to move in just to be your watchful protector. You didn’t want to think that maybe he was just patiently waiting until you were alone but...
“Do you want to come in for something to drink. It’s the least I could...”
Bakugou wasn’t looking at you. His attention was focused entirely over your shoulder. You blinked, taken aback by the cold, dead glare on his face. The way his eyes seemed to burn with...rage? Unbridled anger? Nothing seemed to do whatever it was justice. “You’ve been following us since the train station!” He yelled out. “Why don’t you stop being a fucking coward and come out of hiding!!”
…someone...had been following you?
You could see the reflection of someone in his eyes. With a shaking breath, you turned to look at who he was talking to.
You weren’t sure what you expected. But throughout the day, you had come up with an image in your mind of what your stalker had looked like. He would be the perfect embodiment of the horror you had suffered though, that was for certain. A Cheshire grin, wild unkempt hair, vacant, glossy eyes, maybe a knife or something - anything to solidify himself as the monster who had been making your life miserable. But...he wasn’t. As you got a good look at him, you realized that he looked relatively...normal. And for some reason, that thought alone made you sick.
He was about your age - maybe a bit older - in a school uniform you didn’t recognize. His hair was dark, pulled back and pushed behind his ears. His chin was dusted with facial hair and his eyes were darting between you and Bakugou. He had been standing by the cross walk and tried to pretend to be shocked that Bakugou was even addressing him.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t pull that bull with me.” Bakugou stepped around you, making his way towards him. “I saw you get off the train with us. You made every turn we did. Always stayed one step behind where you thought we couldn’t see you.”
The kid only got a word out before Bakugou gripped him by his shirt and slammed him up against the wall of the neighboring house. “Please!” The kid yelled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Bakugou!” Your legs finally remembered they could move. You bolted over to where he was standing, looking between the two of them. “Bakugou maybe it isn’t him! Maybe he-”
“Show us your phone then if you don’t have anything to hide!” He lifted him up and slammed him back against the bricks.
“I don’t have to show you anything, you fucking lunatic!”
You don’t think you had ever seen him on this street. You don’t think you had seen him ever but-
“HEY!” The boy tried to stop Bakugou from reaching into his pocket. But it was no use.
You caught it was ease, “Try the day of the sports festival for the password.” Was all he said.
This was fucking insane. What if this kid wasn’t the stalker? What if he was just some random guy who was meeting a friend. You looked back and forth between the two of them - Bakugou, hair wild and death in his eyes, and this guy who looked down at him with fear and...
...oh...
You swiped up, entering the date as instructed.
It unlocked.
And you were met with a pretty lain layout. Some photo editing apps, Youtube, a few games, and...
Texting and Calling apps. Your blood ran cold as you opened the first one up. Texts apon texts, all to the same unlisted number. Your unlisted number. You went to the photo gallery and there they were. The pictures of your house. Some of them were zoomed in and cropped to only show you. You wanted to be sick. You wanted to-
“I can explain!”
“What the fuck,” You breathed, scrolling through the pictures. Not just of your house, but of you - walking home from school, of hanging out with your friends, of you shopping. And that’s when you saw the edited versions.
Fuck. Oh Shit Fuck.
“I was only trying to help you!!” He cried, scratching at Bakugou’s wrist, making his skin bleed. “I only want what’s best for us!”
“I think I’m going to be sick.” You covered your mouth, trying to think of what to do next. Should you call the police? Your parents!? What do you do now?
His eyes fell on Bakugou, practically snarling. “I knew he would do something like this!! I knew he would try to make me look like some psycho, but I’m not. I know how he would treat you! He’s a rabid fucking dog, a mongrel! I couldn’t let him treat you the same way! I couldn’t! I’m just trying to protect you! But you wouldn’t fucking listen!! So I thought if maybe you and I could talk you would understand! You would see what I’m-”
“ARGH!”
Your body tensed as the smell of burnt stone and ash filled the air. You looked up and half expected his head to be blown clean off. But it was still attached, only now he looked terrified as he stared down at Bakugou. You followed his gaze, saw the look of pure, unadulterated rage. His hand had connected to the wall beside the man’s head, smoke dancing up and around them. And he was shaking. Oh, god, how hard Bakugou was shaking.
He spoke low, deep in his chest. “Listen close, you freak. You’re going to leave her alone from this point forward - you got that? If I find out you’re even thinking about her, I’ll kill you myself!!”
The world fell silent. No one said a word until. Your stalker was crying now, shaking as he nodded, quickly, mumbling apology after apology. You couldn’t find the words to say, but your heart. God, your heart was beating so hard in your chest as you stared at Bakugou. He...he was...
Oh.
The window in the house behind you slid open. An older man leaned out the window, his wife nervously peering over his shoulder. The looked to the source of the commotion before standing up straight, fumbling as the smoke continued to rise from the spot Bakugou...well...destroyed. “Hey!! If you don’t get off my property, I’m calling the cops!”
...the police.
...
The police.
Oh god, you had his phone. You could prove he had been stalking you!!! You perked up, smiling for the first time in weeks, “Yes! Yes, please, call the police!”
The man stared at you, confusion on his face. “....what?”
The weight of the situation only grew heavier when the police searched the contents of the guy’s backpack.
Rope. A knife. Some cloth. A box of condoms. And a jar of a clear, sickly sweet smelling liquid. You heard one of the officers say what it was, though you were sure you weren’t supposed to hear. But you did, and so did your parents. Your mom nearly broke down for the third time that evening as your father swore under his breath.
Homemade chloroform.
His name was Eito Moto - a second year at another High School near your home. You would find out later that the stalking had started long before the Sports Festival - ever since he started working at the coffee shop you and your mom would go to every Sunday for breakfast. Your neighbors, the ones who actually called the police, had seen him hanging around sometimes but didn’t think much off it.
They thought he had just been a fan.
They decided not to press charges against Bakugou for putting a hole in their fence. “Given the circumstances,” The man said, “I think I would have done the same thing.”
You had to go to the police station to file a report and request a restraining order. It took well into the morning hours, where you mainly spent your time talking to different police officers, retelling the same story, going over evidence, assuring them you didn’t know this guy so you had no clue why he thought you two had been dating for months.
They sent Bakugou home, your parents offering him their thanks and promises they would find a better, proper way to think him for essentially saving your life.
By the time you fell into a crumpled heap on your bed, it was 2 in the morning. It had been so long since you felt...okay. Your stalker was in police custody for now, you could at least rest easy tonight. You gripped your pillows, tugging them up and over your head to block out what meager light filtered in through the hallway. No more late night calls. No more insistent texts telling you what a no good whore you were. You were okay.
Everything was going to be okay.
Bzzzz.
...oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
You peeked out from under your pillow, trying to calm your racing heart. It couldn’t be him, you thought. He was in jail, so they wouldn’t let him call you - right? They wouldn’t let him do that, even if they did give him one call. With shaking fingers, you reached out and plucked your phone from your end table.
Bakugou is calling!
Oh....oh thank god.
You couldn’t press accept fast enough. You sighed, resting back against your pillows. “Hey.”
“Is that bastard in jail?”
A laugh, a good honest laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s in jail. Dad and mom are gonna to talk to a lawyer tomorrow about our options.”
“Did you get a restraining order?”
You nodded. “Yeah. That’s what took so long and why we have to go to court. They gave me an emergency one so...” You blew out a puff of air, watching as a lock of your hair jumped up and fell back into place. “At least there’s that.”
“You should have talked to me about this sooner.” It was softer than you anticipated, less of a bite than he normally had.
You knew you should have. You should have told someone but...it felt so...pointless? Like it wouldn’t have mattered. But, you had to give credit where credit was due. “I wish I would have.”
He didn’t respond. You had expected he would have started yelling at you, about hiding it from everyone. Chastised you for being so stupid and letting it go on for as long as it had. But no, he stayed quiet. You could imagine him laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling, and wondered what he was thinking about. What he wanted to say.
You rolled over onto your side. “Hey, Bakugou?”
“What.”
“Thank you.”
There was a long pause before he let out a soft noise.
“Don’t be stupid. I was only doing what I had to do.”
Stalkers are fucking scary, yah know. I had to listen to some voicemails left by stalkers to get the vibe down right - and I still don’t think Eito sounded perfect but hey. At least one blessing in that: I’ve never been stalked.
#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#bnha#bnha x reader#katuski bakugou#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#bakugo#x reader#mha imagines#mha bakugou#mha bakugo x reader#mha#mha x reader#tw: stalking#tw: noncon mention#if you need anything else tagged#let me know!
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
Watching You
Walter Marshall x Reader
Summary: Walter did not like to waste time on stupid things, and being asked by some young troublemaker to start following an ex-girlfriend around fell under that category. At least, it did, until he found out just who the ex-girlfriend was.
Words: 2334
Warnings: Cursing. Slight smut. Not Edited or anything of the sort, so expect little!
Note: This is just something I had saved that I thought I’d post while I finish up the Vampire Henry Series (Unexpectedly Bitten). I plan to post the rest of that fic all at once, most likely this weekend. As always, comments are appreciated :)
What a no-good loser. That’s what Walter thought the second Jimmy Masters walked through the front door of his office on a Saturday evening. He was a good six inches shorter than Walter, much scrawnier, ten years younger at least, and in desperate need of a haircut. He was the kind of kid Walter hated, the kind of kid that had probably seen the inside of a jailcell for a night or two for some stupid, petty crime, yet refused to learn his lesson.
Walter’s eyebrow arched in disinterest and he sat back in his chair, arms crossed as a coworker led the kid inside.
“We think this falls in your area, Marshall.”
Walter had only nodded and told the boy to sit to explain his reason for interrupting the first moment of peace in the day.
“I got a friend who says detectives know how to follow people real well,” Jimmy said, his voice an aggravating tone that Walter already couldn’t stand.
Walter cleared his throat. “Your friend is rather astute.”
“What?”
The detective blew out a breath, exhausted after speaking with the kid for less than a minute. “Just tell me what you want.” And when Jimmy was done with his pitch, Walter said with a sigh, “You want me to follow a girl that clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you?”
“No, man. She loves me. She does. She’s just confused right now, and I gotta make sure there’s no other guy, ya know? I don’t want her messing around. It’s disrespectful.”
Walter heaved out another long sigh, rubbing at his temples. “But she’s your ex-girlfriend.”
Jimmy shook his head, his shaggy, dusty-blond hair swaying vigorously with the motion. “That’s temporary.”
Snorting, Walter sat up in his chair. “Sure it is. Look, you think maybe she just isn’t interested anymore?”
“Hey, I’m not here for additional commentary. Can you help me or not?”
“From what you’ve said, she’s not breaking any laws, she’s not a danger to herself or others, so I have no reason to—”
“Please, man. Please,” Jimmy said, putting his palms together in lame prayer. Walter was sure this boy hadn’t prayed to anything in his entire life. “I’ll never step foot in here again if you help me out just this once.”
Walter eyed the kid, trying to weight the pros and cons of wasting his time on something so inane, but if it got the little, blond twit to go away, then he figured there were worse things. It had been a slow week as it was. He groaned and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. “Fine. What’s her name?”
------------------------------------------------------
“Walter,” You said, trying to hold back any emotion in your voice as you moved aside to let him pass the threshold into your small apartment. As habit had it, you were much happier to see him than you wished. Walter always had a way of lighting your every nerve on fire from just your bodies being in the same room. You couldn’t help wanting him, missing him, but you hid it well.
As he walked in, his body trailed the outside chill behind, sending a shiver down your spine. Then he pulled the beanie you’d bought him off his head and turned to face you. Though the irritated look on his face was not an uncommon one, you didn’t appreciate it directed at you.
You crossed your arms. “Well?” Walter hung around quite often until you had asked him to quit it, and though he didn’t usually listen to you--putting his own concerns above your wishes--you knew he held a respect for you that made him at least try to keep his distance. If he was stopping by now…well, it could only bring you trouble, but not seeing his face in so long had you more lenient.
“Why is some punk walking into my precinct and asking me to follow you?”
Your eyebrows rose. “What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me. How many punks could you possibly have hanging around?”
Being a decade older, Walter often made you laugh at his distaste for younger adults. You were the one exception, he’d always said, but all others were ‘punks.’ He feared the day Faye had to deal with boys your age, if she were ever so unlucky. “You met Jimmy?”
His fists kept clenching and unclenching, his shoulders somehow broadened, and the frown on his face made his eyebrows pinch and dip deep. “This idiot is really attached to you, Y/N.”
The more he spoke, the more you realized that ‘irritated’ may have been too sweet a word for what Walter really was. “He just doesn’t like his ego being bruised.”
Walter shrugged off his winter coat and tossed it on the couch as if it was still normal for him to do so, then ran a hand through the dark, messy curls you always loved. “Why the hell are you messing around with a--?”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not messing around with him anymore.”
“Well, he seems to think it’s temporary.”
“It’s not.”
Crossing his arms, Walter shook his head like a disappointed parent would at their bratty, misbehaving child; the way you’d seen him look at Faye every time he found out she was spending too much time on social media. “Stay away from this guy, alright?”
“You would tell me to stay away from any guy,” You mumbled to yourself with a snort.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
“Do not give me attitude,” He snapped back. “You’re not being safe! If you were, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation!"
Instantly, your shoulders stooped and the same old headache began to form. “Not this again, Walt. According to you I’m never safe unless I’m in your line of sight.”
“Yes!” He yelled, stomping your way, stopping just short of ramming his body through yours. “Now if only you could stay in it!”
“You can’t have eyes on me all day every day.”
“The hell I can’t!”
“You promised, Walter.” You let out a small whine. “I told you it was too hard for me to keep seeing you around wherever I went, and you promised you would stop watching me.” You wished it didn’t have to be that way. You wished seeing his face didn’t bring on such a potent punch of pain, but it did. Every single day when you left your apartment, you saw him standing by his car, a coffee cup in hand, unashamedly watching you like some creep. Eventually, you stopped looking in the direction you knew he would be, hoping you may forget he was there at all, but you always felt his eyes on you; such a strong stare, he might as well have been touching you. But you couldn’t take it. Months of your every move being tracked by the man you loved but couldn’t have was taking its toll, and so you begged him to leave you alone, to give you some relief.
“I did stop, and what happened? Barely a month after I made that stupid promise, some dumb, obsessed kid comes asking me to stalk you.”
You leaned back against the wall, growing more exhausted by the minute. “Well, with all the past practice you’ve had watching my every move, I’d say he was rather smart to pick you of all people. Shitty coincidence that he would though, since now I’m getting lectured.”
“I am not lecturing you.”
“Fine, but whatever this is you’re doing here, you’re out of line. My business is not your business anymore. It hasn’t been your business for the last five months.”
“Your little boyfriend came to me,” He said, pointing a finger at his chest, “so yes, it is my bus--”
“It is not!” You bit back. “You could’ve turned him away. You could’ve told him not to follow me around unless he was itching to get a restraining order, but you didn’t, did you? You took this opportunity to check up on me. Again!”
He stepped back, looking as if you had slapped him. His aggressive, guarded barrier of emotions cracked, and you could see the vulnerability he hadn’t shown since your relationship ended.
“Walter” You sighed, “You’re the one who stepped back. You’re the one who said it would be best if we weren’t in a relationship. You said I was a distraction and—”
“I said you’d be at risk, not that you’re a distraction.”
“It doesn’t make a difference.”
“Damn it, Y/N, it does! I only did it because I love you!” He said without hesitation, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know that!”
You blinked. “No, I did not know that! You seriously broke up with me because you love me? That’s ridiculous.”
“I broke up with you to keep you safe, but I clearly suffered for nothing seeing as you put yourself in unsafe situations even without my association.”
You wanted to believe him, so bad, but people don’t leave behind the ones they love. After all, you loved him and the thought of leaving him made you nauseous, even now. When you were together, he may have appeared in love, but after a year he still hadn’t told you and you knew you’d let yourself get a little too hopeful. If you were honest with yourself, him breaking up with you was not as much of a shock as it should’ve been. But as you looked at him now, you could see that he truly believed you already knew.
“It doesn’t make sense that you would do that,” You said. “People don’t just break up with someone they love.”
“Fuck, Y/N, did I ever seem unhappy with you? Did I ever come across like I didn’t want you every second of every day? My every other thought was of you,” He said loudly, like a rant, and you were having a hard time figuring out who he was mad at. “So don’t try to tell me how I felt, and feel now. I still love you and that’s not going to change, but I can’t have criminals, murderers even, coming after you because they are pissed at me for hunting them down or having a case against them. It would take nothing for the average officer or detective to figure out that you and I were together even if we were hiding it. How hard do you think it would be for some psychopath?”
You hadn’t realized a tear slipped down your cheek until you tasted it at the corner of your lips. It was salty but somehow bitter and left a thick burning path along your skin. You quickly wiped it away. “Why didn’t you tell me this months ago?”
“Because, stubborn as you are, you wouldn’t have listened. You would have told me it didn’t matter.” He fell backwards onto the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a groan. “I try to do the right thing. I try to protect you, thinking everything will be fine as long as no one can link you to me, but I can’t…stay away.” His eyes met yours. “And then you beg me to, and it’s excruciating to obey. When I was able to watch over you, it reminded me that I did the right thing. You were safe and I could constantly be reassured of that.”
You walked over to him, your heart thumping with every step, then sat on your knees in front of him, placing your hand atop his own resting on his thigh. His other hand reached for your face and his fingers softly grazed your cheek before they tucked some hair behind your ear. “Walt—”
“That kid…Jimmy,” Walter interrupted as he began tracing the back of your hand with his thumb. “He thinks you’re in love with him.”
“I’m not.”
“You swear?”
“Of course, Walt. I told you--”
“I know,” He said with a single nod of his head. “I know. Maybe I’ll actually get some sleep now.”
You rested your cheek on the inner side of his knee and said, “You could sleep here.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” You bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t even dare to count how many times you’d had sex during the course of your relationship, but now, asking him not to leave made your pulse thrum in your ears.
He leaned forward and looked down at you. “Because I don’t think I can say no to you.”
“Then why would you bother trying,” You whispered without a second thought and slowly inched up on your knees so you could connect your lips with his.
It lasted only a second or two before he broke the kiss, grabbed you by the arm, and yanked you onto his lap. His grip at the back of your neck pulled your mouth to his as your hand slipped between your bodies and quickly started to undo his belt buckle.
“God, baby,” Walter groaned against your lips when you wrapped your fingers around his thick cock and released it from his jeans. He pulled the ratty, old t-shirt of his over your shoulders and softly settled his hands on your hips. “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just…missed these,” He said, placing a kiss on one bare breast, then the other. “I missed you, so much.” He placed his lips to the curve of your neck, then met your eyes. “I miss you every fucking day.”
You kissed his forehead, and his arms tightened around you as you lifted your hips and sank down onto him. “I missed you too, Walter,” You said, but the words melted somewhere within the mix of your moans and his groans.
------------------
Tags: @agniavateira @forthebrokenheartedthings @summersong69 @starlite13 @mstgsmy @purplelove75 @defffcc @the-soot-sprite @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity @aquariuslavenderhoney @harrysthiccthighss @the-problem-of-leisure @meganwinchester1999
#walter marshall#walter marshall x reader#walter marshall fic#walter marshall fics#walter marshall fanfic#walter marshall fanfics#walter marshall fanfiction#walter marshall oneshot#walter marshall one shot#nomis#night hunter#walter marshall x female reader#walter marshall x you#walter marshall x y/n#henry cavill#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fics#henry cavill fanfics#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill oneshot#henry cavill one shot#walter marshall imagine#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x y/n
341 notes
·
View notes
Text
A case in suburbia, domestic dynamics, and a forever home. What could go wrong?
the moment i’ve been waiting for! chapter one is up now! read here or under the cut.
Cas and Dean were searching for a forever house. They had been pretty much since Cas got back from the empty. They were ready to distance themselves from hunting. Dean had always wanted a sort of suburban, white picket fence life, even if he didn’t admit it to anyone. And since he already admitted how he truly felt to Cas, why not throw his need for a domestic lifestyle into the mix. Cas was all for it. Ever since Jack had given up most of his powers to Amara, thus causing her to take his place as God and him almost human, Cas had been hoping for a place to raise him like a normal child. The bunker was great for hunting and a place for Cas, Dean, and Sam, but not so much for raising a 5-year-old kid.
House hunting had been a burden to bear, but they were making out alright. Up till this, they’d looked at about 3 other houses. They were all a no for different reasons. The first one Cas decided was in a school district that wouldn’t be good for Jack, the second didn’t have a big enough garage or backyard, and the third didn’t have enough bedrooms for all of their family to stay. With the whole credit card scam they’d been running for as long as they remember, budget wasn’t really a problem, but they didn’t want something extravagant.
There it was, 538 Chapel Street in Pine River Crossings. It wasn’t too far out of Lawrence, only a few hours' drive, and all the houses looked nice. Very cookie cutter, but that was sort of the appeal. They couldn’t guarantee that they would fit in with the traditional, upper middle-class people, but what the hell, if they could kill god they could take suburbia.
A few days passed, and they were set up to look at the home. They drove the hour and a half to the next medium-sized town with the belief in their minds that this was the one. It had all they needed, a two-car garage, a respectable school district, and two guest bedrooms. They were so caught up in this concept they made the mistake of not checking the news for the nearby areas. Once they arrived, a realtor who showed them around the dwelling greeted them. It was all they could ask for and more practically too good to be true, especially for people like them. The actual presentation of the house went over without too many problems. The person exhibiting the residence commented on how it had been on display for almost a month now, which was the first red flag. A house as nice as this, in a densely populated area, would usually not be on the market for that long in weeks unless there was some hidden con.
They signed on it not a day after seeing the house in person. It was all set up and they could officially start moving stuff in the next week. They officially shared the good news with everyone the day after they signed. Sam was beyond happy for them. Not only would he finally have a space to himself, he was proud of his brother for living the life he’d always wanted. Jack was thrilled that he would get to go to actual school and have friends that were his age and not cosmic entities. In the meantime, Cas did more research into the neighborhood. There was their hidden con. The newspaper Cas had pulled up on his phone said, “Local Couple Murdered in Own Home.”
“Dean, look at this.”
Okay, that was a setback. A murderer on the loose in the neighborhood they were moving into was not exactly what he had planned, but he had delt with worse. “Alright, that could be a problem.”
“I think it’s a little bigger than a problem,” Cas retorted.
“Is it our type of thing or just something local law enforcement could deal with?”
Cas read on in the article, “the couple was stabbed, there was no sign of forced entry, neighbors reported nothing amiss besides lights flickering before the murder. The weapon, as well as the perpetrator, was never found. No official suspects have been labeled, everyone has seemed to have an alibi.”
“It definitely sounds like our thing. Lights flickering, no breaking and entering, and all.”
They decided they could pose as residents, as it seemed perfectly normal for the newcomers to be concerned about the literal murderer on the loose. Since Cas was newly human, and Jack was, well, 5, Dean thought they might need outside help. Being out of practice to spend more time with your husband and child really had its fallbacks. Sam was off the table as backup. He was out of town and Dean didn't want to interrupt his first weekend without him in god knows how long. Plus, they needed someone who wouldn't draw too much attention to their family dynamic.
“Hey, Cas, what do you think about calling in Claire to help us with this one? You think she’d do it?”
“Calling her in for help is a good idea, whether or not shed actually do it is another question.”
“I’ll call and ask, and if she wants to help, and if not then I can think of something else.”
He kept his promise and called Claire not an hour later. He decided it might be best not to tell her it was undercover work, or that it was taking place in a white picket fence neighborhood, as that might turn her off from it almost immediately.
“Hey Claire, its been too long since we’ve talked,” he started.
“Hi Dean. what do you want, there’s no way you’re just calling to catch up if you’re starting with ‘its been too long.’”
“You got me there. I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me and Cas on a hunt. Its not too far from the bunker and we’d have you back home in a week.”
“Sure, that works. When do we start?” She hadnt seen Dean and Cas since they rescued Cas. That was over a month ago, she’d been meaning to visit, but she’d been so busy with hunting, and getting to know Kaia again now that she was finally back. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to reconnect and not miss out on anything too big back at home.
“If you could come down here by Wednesday, that’d be great.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” She was tempted to sign off with an ‘I love you’ but she was never a lovey-dovey person in that way.
On tuesday she promised Jody she’d be extra careful and would be back in under a week. Kaia told her to make sure to call every day and update her on what was happening. Claire agreed, promising to keep in touch. She spent the rest of the day driving down to Kansas.
Back on Dean and Cas’s end, they were trying to get the house set up for 4 people when they had no furniture prior to this. Cas had always loved furniture shopping even before he had a use for it. When he worked at the Gas-and-Sip, he would browse the home improvement magazines in his spare time. Dean was pretty much the opposite. He had never had reason to care for it, so he didn't. Maybe his hatred for Swedish furniture was rooted in his deep-seated commitment issues. It didn't matter much why he hated it, he just left most of the choices up to Cas. there was then the issue of appliances and such you couldn't find in a furniture store. That was left up to him. Cas sent him out to Walmart to get things for the kitchen. That was something he could do. He picked out a mixer, some silverware, and a pioneer woman kitchenware set. It came with pots and pans, mixing bowls, and a few normal sized plates. That was enough for him to consider it an absolute steal. He brought his finds home to the bunker, setting them on the table designated for things that were to go in the new house. Jack was sitting on Cas’s lap, pointing at things on the computer.
“What’re you guys finding?” Dean asked, hovering behind Cas’s shoulder.
“Djungelskog!” Jack exclaimed, showing Dean a photo of a large stuffed brown bear.
“I thought you were looking for furniture?” Dean directed the question more at Cas, but he was still looking at Jack.
“We are. Jack just got us a bit sidetracked. We found the majority of what we need. Among other things not of as grave importance.”
Dean looked over the shopping cart and then gave the go ahead. Not before adding the stuffed bear to the cart, though.
The next day Claire arrived. Everyone was thrilled to see her. Jack ran up and threw himself around one of her legs and Cas gave her an awkward dad side hug. Dean wondered when he would tell her what the hunt would actually consist of, but he didn't want to interrupt the moment.
A few hours later, Dean fixed everyone a real dinner and had them sit down at the kitchen table. The realization dawned on him that this was going to be his last sit down meal officially living in the bunker. Everyone sort of just sat in silence for a beat. Perhaps reflecting on their own lasts of officially living there. “Claire, I sorta forgot to add this when I called you, but the case is a lot of undercover work. Also its in a suburban area.”
“And why didn't you tell me this sooner?”
“Well to speak freely, I wanted you on this case and I was worried it would make you not want to come.”
“It almost does, but i'm already here now, and i wouldn't want to waste a days driving on something i'm not actually going to do.” She guessed this would probably take longer than a week. “And i'm guessing this isn't just something you decided to do out of the goodness of your hearts?”
“We bought a house in the area, and we just wanted to make sure it was safe,” Cas explained.
“Hang on, you bought a house for real and you didnt even think to tell me? You didn't think that that was valuable information?”
“It didn't come up in our phone call,” Dean said.
“And? That’s no excuse to leave your daughter out of major life events!” The ‘daughter’ part just sort of came out without her noticing, but seconds after she said it she regretted it. God, how embarrassing.
“You’re right. We should’ve told you sooner. It was kind of a recent decision, though, so you haven’t been out of the loop for too long,” Cas said.
The next day was moving day. Dean loaded the appliances into the back of Claire’s car, since the back of the Impala was already full. Claire took her own car, while Dean, Cas, and Jack rode in Baby. Their real furniture was being delivered as they spoke. Cas offered to ride with Claire, but she assured him she’d be fine by herself. The drive wasn’t even that long, especially compared to the distance she drove yesterday.
Dean was silently nervous. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but it was written all over his face. His first real stable house, with the man he loved, and his two kids, he could only hope that he didn’t mess it up. Cas put a hand on his shoulder showing he saw how Dean was feeling.
They turned onto Chapel Street and pulled up into the driveway of the house. It somehow looked bigger and more daunting than it had during the walkthrough. Claire arrived almost ten minutes later. Everyone just sort of paused in front of the house for a minute, reveling in the stability most of them had never had.
#pspspsps you want to reblog my hard work sooo bad#supernatural#spn#castiel#dean winchester#supernatural fic#samael speaks#sammy sires
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Every Breath You Take - Loki x Reader
Summary: Loki has been stalking you for weeks, and you have no idea why. One night, he decides to claim what is his.
Characters: Loki x female reader
Words: ~6300
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!
Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit language, stalking, dub-con and/or non-con smut (depending where you draw the line between those), breaking and entering, choking/breath play, fear kink, power dynamics, humiliation, praise kink, basically Loki being a dominant mother fucker
Author’s Note: Major song inspiration for this is “Every Breath You Take” by Devil + Winter. Yes, I know it’s a remake of an older song, but I looove that specific cover so much.
This might officially be my favorite oneshot I’ve written thus far, so I hope y’all enjoy!
Every Breath You Take
Glancing at the clock, you puffed out a breath at the late hour. It might be Friday, but you had refused to leave the office until all weekly projects were completed by their deadline, as well as a few extras that you wanted to finish ahead of schedule. You had snagged a government job, and there was no way in hell that you were going to slack off or cause anyone to second guess whether you were the most qualified choice.
Sending off an email to your supervisor with the attached completed work, you gave a triumphant grin before logging out of the computer system, grabbing your purse, and hightailing it for the elevators. Thoughts of a long, hot bath followed by curling up on the couch with delivery pizza and a sappy movie were beckoning, and after a week full of working early mornings and even later evenings, you deserved it.
Exiting the elevator and crossing the lobby, you waved and said goodnight to the evening security guard. He was unsurprised to see you leaving so late and wished you a good weekend. The sun had set hours ago, but the street was still semi-lit from the city lights, sections of darkness broken by circles of lamp light, car headlights, and the muted glow of lit windows.
And yet, he still managed to hide within the shadows.
You wouldn’t have even noticed, if it weren’t for the fact that he had been an unfailing constant lately. Each time you exited the office, even if it was just to run down the street to the nearest food truck, he was there. Standing right across the street from your work building, intense stare fixed in your direction, tonight was no exception.
The first time it had happened, you had been sure you were hallucinating. Especially because no one else seemed to notice the tall figure, pedestrians passing by with no acknowledgement. It was as if he didn’t allow anyone to see him. Just you.
Habit made you glance across the street again, and sure enough, the shadowed outline of his lean form was still waiting between the patches of light. It was as if he had molded them to his own benefit, wrapping the night around himself so that only the inhuman flicker of his eyes glinted at you out of the darkness.
Loki, the God of Mischief, had been silently stalking you for weeks. And you had absolutely no idea why.
Starting down the street, you felt his presence as a prickle on the back of your neck. He was there as you walked a block over to the bus stop, and it was only when you were safely on board and in a seat that the sensation disappeared. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief, knowing he was gone. The reprieve was short-lived, since you also knew that he’d already be there when you got home.
Sure enough, once the bus exited the city and stopped near your block, the sensation of being followed returned. You walked quickly up the front path of your suburban home, hands shaking slightly as they fit the key into the front door. He never came too close, never followed you across the threshold, but the idea that he could made your mouth run dry. Once you were inside with the door closed and deadbolted, you went around double checking all the windows and the back door. Yep, still locked.
Peeking out between the blinds in the living room, your eyes scanned the moonlit yard, looking for movement. You didn’t see any, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t out there, lurking. For the millionth time you contemplated reporting him, but also for the millionth time you had no idea who exactly to tell. It wasn’t like you were highly-ranked enough to have Mr. Fury or the Avengers on speed dial. And the police would think you were having a mental break, since it seemed as though Loki could cloak himself from being noticed, even when in the middle of a crowd.
You had just started working for S.H.I.E.L.D a couple of months ago, as a low-level data interpreter. To say you were at the bottom of the totem pole was accurate, but you were prepared to work hard to elevate yourself within the organization. Sure, you’d never be an actual agent or spy, but there were upper level positions within your department that would one day have your name on them. You weren’t about to jeopardize those possibilities by creating waves while still in your probationary period, especially since you doubted your by-the-book, no-nonsense supervisor would do anything other than laugh in your face if you tried to tell him that a friggin god had chosen to follow you around. Hell, even your own family would probably assume you were overworked and delusional.
Which meant that you were stuck dealing with the issue of Loki yourself...and so far your grand master plan had been trying to ignore him in the fervent hopes that he would get bored and leave you alone.
Though he was impossible to totally ignore, you had made some progress with not lying in bed awake all night, staring at the ceiling and fearing the moment he’d decide to come inside the house. You still did this for about half of the night, but hey, progress. When he had shown no interest in crossing that boundary, you wondered if you were supposed to feel more terrified at his lack of intent, or safe with the knowledge that he was lurking around the house like your own personal security system.
And while you had at first been too scared to leave the office for lunch knowing he was out there, after a week of huddling in your cubicle you had been furious with yourself. It had been a piss-poor day anyways, and you had barely made it to an 8am meeting on time thanks to forgetting to set your alarm the night before (probably because you had been too busy stressing over the god lurking outside). Deciding that enough was enough, you had walked outside with head held high, ready to march down the street to the nearby deli. He had been there, of course he had, piercing gaze immediately zeroed in on you the moment you exited the building’s doors.
Lack of sleep and frustration making you feel bold, you had actually stopped and glared black at him. It was the first time you had been assertive enough to acknowledge him without any visible fear, and you were damn proud of yourself.
That pride had quickly turned to ash when the corners of his mouth curved slowly upwards, lips parting to showcase a sadistic smirk that caused your heart to drop into your ass, legs doing a 180 and practically sprinting you back into the building. Turns out you hadn’t been that hungry, after all. You had left the office for lunch a few times since then, but always kept your eyes pointed down at the sidewalk, never daring to nonverbally challenge him again.
Now, after checking for the umpteenth time that all the blinds were closed, you went through with your evening plans, the hot bath relaxing tense muscles and greasy pizza filling your soul as much as your stomach. And when you crawled into bed a few hours later and drifted off to sleep, you almost forgot about the powerful god who was stalking your every move. Almost…
~ ~ ~
Startling awake a few hours later, you sat up in bed and grabbed for the bedside lamp, flicking it on. Eyes squinting at the sudden brightness, you scanned the room with a pounding heart, relief washing over you at seeing that the corners were empty. It was just a dream, you soothed. It wasn’t real…
Said dream had been filled with flashing green eyes, lips twisted into a cruel grin, and a large, powerful form pinning you to the bed.
Licking bone-dry lips, you got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen for a glass of water. You didn’t turn on any other lights, both because you knew the layout of the house well enough to navigate it in the dark, and in hopes that your movement wouldn’t alert a certain visitor who might still be in the vicinity.
The microwave clock showed that it was a little after 3am, which meant you had only gotten a couple hours of sleep before the raven-haired god had once again disrupted your life. There were enough windows with moonlight streaming in through the blinds that you had no trouble navigating the kitchen. Not wanting to open the fridge and risk him seeing the light, you grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and went over to the sink, glancing out the small window above it but seeing only an empty yard.
The glass was half full when you felt every hair on your body stand up in warning. All those blinds had been shut earlier. You had checked them multiple times before going to bed. Your eyes flew back up, breath catching in your throat at the sight. Only seconds ago the view of the yard had been empty, but now…
Loki was standing mere feet away, on the other side of the glass. Moonlight lit up his features, the pale unblemished skin giving off an eerie glow as his emerald eyes burned into you through what, suddenly, felt like a pathetic excuse of a barrier. Shock and fear made your suddenly shaky fingers loosen their grip on the fragile water glass, causing it to fall into the sink and shatter. The noise was like a gunshot to your frozen state; you jumped and screamed in alarm before realizing the sound wasn’t from the window. Eyes jerked down to the sink, where pieces of glass lay scattered and sparkling in the dim moonlight. When you looked back up again, Loki was gone.
Suddenly, a wave of anger flowed through you, heating your blood and overtaking the fear long enough for you to make what, looking back, was a really fucking stupid decision.
You were so done with his shit, done with living in constant hypervigilance and fear because some god had decided to play with you like a bug in a jar. Without allowing yourself to fully process the stupidity of what you were about to do, you went over to the back door, opened it, and stormed out onto the porch.
Breath puffing with adrenaline, you glanced to your right, where Loki had previously been standing. Instead, there was only empty air. This served to piss you off more, as it was obvious that he was just toying with you. Well, you were done with the games.
“Listen up, asshole!” you shrieked at the empty yard. “I don’t know what your problem is, but-” you cut off abruptly as logic finally caught up to anger. Your brain was frantically waving a big, red ‘this is a really stupid idea’ sign and telling you to get back inside.
The flames of rage quickly fizzled out, replaced by an icy wave of fear when the asshole in question suddenly appeared in the middle of the yard, seemingly out of thin air. He stood silent and still as the night, all-black Asgardian clothing molded to his tall and proud form so that he blended in with the shadows.
You felt, more than saw, his eyes trail slowly down over your body, expression unreadable in the dim moonlight. You were suddenly very aware that you were only wearing a lavender tank top and grey sleep shorts, bare toes curling against the cool wood of the porch. The sheer vulnerability of your situation kicked-started the flight response, and you took a slow step backwards, not wanting to lose sight of what your survival instinct classified as a wild and unpredictable predator.
The plan failed instantly when Loki burst forward, black cape fluttering out around his form as he strode across the yard. You weren’t sure if he looked more like a fallen angel or avenging demon, but the effect was enough to jolt your body into motion as you turned and sprinted for the still-open back door.
Crossing the threshold, you felt a small spark of relief, thinking how he never came inside, that you just needed to get the door closed and…
He hit the wood with such force that you were thrown into the kitchen, stumbling back against the opposite wall when he stepped inside. His gaze zeroed in on you as he lifted one booted foot and kicked the door shut.
The loud slam made you jump, vocal cords suddenly coming back online as you opened your mouth to scream. He moved so fast that you didn’t even have time to consider fleeing, his hand cutting off the scream before it even left your throat. He slammed you into the wall, his palm so large that it covered the entire bottom half of your face and effectively cut off your oxygen. His other arm caged you in, palm flat against the wall right beside your head, making you feel utterly trapped. Eyes widening with terror, you clawed at his hand, fighting to breathe. You might as well have been an insect trying to stop an incoming shoe with all the difference your struggles made.
“You will be silent. Attempt to scream again, and I will choke the life out of you. Understood?”
His low, dark voice made you shiver with fear, but you were so desperate for air that you would agree to almost anything at this point, and so nodded frantically up at him. His eyes narrowed for a few moments, as if assessing your reliability, before sliding his hand down so that it lightly encircled your throat and anchored you to the wall.
Gasping in blessed oxygen, you panted up at him with heaving breaths, eyes shifting back and forth as you tried, and failed, to come up with an escape plan. If you thought he had been intimidating from a distance these past few weeks, it was nothing compared to the vision of him up close. He practically buzzed with power as his lean, muscular frame towered over you, the ebony-clad chest and shoulders blocking any view of the kitchen and back door. The fingers at your throat flexed slightly in silent warning, as if he could read your thoughts and was reminding you that escape was futile.
You looked up at him, still in shock and trying to process the fact that a literal god was in your kitchen. And not just any god, but one who had terrorized your city, made a crowd kneel at his feet, and declared his intent to rule the planet. His arrogance was legendary, his powers terrifying. And you were so, so fucked.
Glancing up, you took in his face, semi-shadowed in the moonlit kitchen. Flawless porcelain skin showcased features sharp enough to cut glass, your eyes scanning over his sternly clenched jaw and lips pressed into a tight grimace. They gave off a coldness that sent a shiver down your spine, but then you looked up past his straight, regal nose and found the blazing heat of his gaze. He was watching you intently, those cruel lips curving up the slightest bit at your obvious perusal.
Horrified to have been caught staring, your eyes quickly lowered, taking in the expensive fabric that covered his tall, powerful body. You felt him bend down, every muscle tensed in fearful anticipation when his face stopped right beside your own. You could practically feel the effort he made to reign in his strength, the capability for violence coiled tightly right below the surface of his skin. Still too scared to lift your eyes, you heard as he slowly inhaled through his nose before exhaling through his mouth, so that warm breath ghosted over the side of your neck and caused goosebumps to erupt across your flesh.
Holy crap, had he just sniffed you?!
He gave a dark chuckle at the noticeable shudder that ran through your body in response to his actions. The hand at your throat moved up to tightly grip your chin, tipping it upwards until your eyes fluttered up as well and were ensnared by his gaze.
He was taking you in, noting your eyes dilated with fear and mouth slightly parted as your chest heaved to take in panicked breaths. He seemed to catalog all of your reactions with a piercing intelligence, as if storing away the knowledge for later.
“Do you fear me, human?”
The low, rumbled words shouldn’t have been enticing, but you’d be lying to deny the stirring low in your gut that resulted from his voice whispering in your ear. It actually took a few seconds for the question itself to filter through your brain. Unable to nod with his fingers still gripping your chin, you instead gave a soft, breathy, “Yes,” which caused him to smirk.
“Good girl.”
Okay, now that definitely caused a reaction, your body heating up at the mixture of fear and praise he provided. Dear god, what is wrong with you?! Scream, fight, do something!
As if he could read the thoughts in your gaze, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Ah ah, little one. You’re not getting away until I allow it.”
Attempting one last ounce of bravery, you asked in a pleading voice, “Why are you doing this?”
His eyes lit up, as if he were impressed that you dared to question his motives. The fingers at your chin loosened slightly, his eyes watching as he moved a thumb slowly back and forth across your lower lip.
“This planet is exceedingly uninspiring, and I have found humans to be particularly boring. So I had to obtain entertainment in one form or another, didn’t I?”
Well that sure wasn’t the answer you had been expecting. All the weeks of following you around, scaring you to within an inch of your life as you tried to figure out what reasons he had for singling you out, and it was all because he was bored?
You were grateful to feel a spark of anger return at his callous response and utter disregard for what he had put you through these past weeks. Looking back later, you’d think that he had verbally poked at you on purpose, had wanted you to showcase a bit more fight to add to his entertainment of the situation.
Through gritted teeth, you said, “If we’re so boring, then why waste your time following me around?”
His fingers trailed back down over your throat, and for a moment you thought that your words had been a fatal mistake, that this was when he decided you weren’t worth the trouble and strangled you. Instead, his fingers flitted over the pulse in your neck, pausing there as if to measure its beating, before gliding further down and across your delicate collarbone.
“I said humans were boring.” The tips of his long, cool fingers slid underneath the right strap of your tank top, pushing it towards your shoulder. “I didn’t say that you were boring.”
Shocked into silence, you felt the fabric being dragged down over your arm, the neckline lowering with it so that the top swells of your breasts were visible. You felt like a rabbit caught in the hunter’s crosshairs, too scared to move outside the involuntary trembling that started in your knees and traveled up the length of your legs and torso.
“Please,” you whispered, staring up at him helplessly, beseeching him to let you go. Wanting this to all just be a dream in which he would suddenly disappear and you would wake up in your warm bed.
“Begging already?” he taunted. “But we’ve barely begun.”
With that, he grabbed the neckline of the tank top and yanked, the fabric no match for his inhuman strength as he literally tore it from your body. The cool air hitting your bare nipples was what thrust you into action, as you reached up to shove against his shoulders with all your might, hoping to make him stumble back long enough so that you could dart to the side and make a run for it.
Instead, you might as well have pushed against a stone wall, even the adrenaline-laced strength not making him retreat so much as an inch. The only reaction your action caused was him to huff out a dark laugh of amusement before he flung the tatters of the tank top to the side and leered down at your exposed flesh.
You watched, wide-eyed, as a large and surprisingly warm palm cupped your breast, testing the weight of it. The whimper that left your throat was purely out of fear, you told yourself, and had nothing to do with the sensation of him pinching your nipple between two of those slender and graceful, yet powerfully masculine, fingers.
“What delightful noises you make, pet. I’m eager to learn how many others I can wring from your lips.”
Oh god, this couldn’t be happening. The whole situation was too surreal, too overwhelming. Your brain couldn’t compute all the mixed signals it was getting from the rest of your body. Thighs trembled with fear and the desire to run, but your traitorous nipples were hard as stone, and not just from the chilly air.
Loki noticed as well, of course he did. He was a master of lies, and of reading them in others, so there was no way your body was going to fool him. A pleased look lit up his eyes, and the emerald blaze was too much, causing your own to squeeze tightly shut when he leaned in close.
The words were whispered from mere inches away, and they brought with them a pang of arousal that shocked you to the core. “Don’t fight it, girl. You were made to be ruled, to be owned. And I’m going to make you mine.”
You gave a little sob in response, but didn’t argue, didn’t struggle. Not even when the hand at your breast continued its pleasurable torment while his other hand left the wall to trail down over your ribs and waist until it met the top of your sleep shorts. The tips of his fingers hooked inside the fabric, and with one graceful movement he shoved both shorts and panties down over your hips, so that they fell in a pile at your feet and left your body completely bare.
“Step out of them,” he commanded, fingers dancing softly along your hip bone.
Frozen with indecision, your breath came in audible gasps as the mixture of fear, anxiety, and burgeoning desire made your head spin. The headstrong and independent mentality that was so self-ingrained insisted that you fight him to the very end. But there was another part of you, a hidden and previously unknown part, that wanted to do as he said. Wanted to give in and submit.
Before you could find out which side would win, the hand at your breasts leapt back up to your throat, the movement so quick that you barely had time to register it before your oxygen was cut off. Eyes flew back open in panic, but before you could even attempt to struggle, the long fingers of his other hand caught and held your wrists tightly together, effectively trapping you once again.
His face lowered directly in front of your own, his straight, white teeth bared as he snarled, “I said step. Out. Of. Them.”
At this point, you’d do just about anything he asked if it meant being able to breathe, and so obediently lifted first one foot and then the other out of the shorts and underwear. He used his own booted foot to shove the fabric so that it slid across the floor off to the side, but didn’t yet let up his grip on your throat.
Your vision was growing spotty from lack of oxygen as you choked and squirmed in his grip. He looked delighted at this, his gaze dropping down to watch your body’s involuntary twists and jerks before lifting back to your face.
“You’re a willful little human, I’ll give you that. But from now on, when I give an order, I expect you to obey. Do I make myself clear?”
You nodded desperately, and when that didn’t seem to satisfy him, sputtered out a barely audible, “Yes”.
“Sorry, pet, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again.”
Certain you were about to pass out, you put all remaining energy into gurgling out another attempt of the word. It must’ve been enough, because he whispered ‘good girl’ at the same time his grip loosened, allowing you to cough and gag as your lungs frantically filled with air.
His hand stayed in place this time, splayed across your throat in silent warning, as his other palm released your wrists, coasted down the front of your body and, without any hesitation, delved between your thighs. When you tried to close them, he used his own leg to wedge yours back open, pressing his erection into your hip and making it clear where this was heading.
Those cruel yet seductive fingertips ran along your slit before dipping into the humiliatingly apparent wetness and spreading it up to your clit. He gave a hum of male satisfaction at your pleasured gasp, exploring your body in a way that made both shame and desire heat your skin. The tip of his finger teased at your wet opening, barely dipping inside. Your hips bucked, and you didn’t know whether it was an attempt to get away or move closer.
His voice was more raspy than before, when he asked in a condescending tone, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, my pretty little girl?”
You hoped he didn’t notice the way your pussy clenched onto the tip of his finger when he called you ‘his’, but judging by his groan, he had.
Slow, achingly slow, he pushed his finger inside you, the long digit reaching places that your own hands never could. Your head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, baring your throat to him, as desire officially overtook the will to escape.
“Yes, that’s it,” he cooed, the thumb of his other hand tracing over the rapid pulse that beat in the side of your throat. “Show how you belong to me.”
His words should’ve scared you, and they did in a far-off and hazy kind of way, but you were more focused on how he was pushing a second finger inside you. He rubbed them with knowledgeable precision against the sensitive front wall, making you cry out when they found your g-spot. And when his thumb also started rubbing quick little circles on your clit, you decided that maybe belonging to him wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.
He continued that way, relentless, his breaths coming in heavy puffs against your cheek as he finger fucked you roughly until the tension between your thighs coiled into a tight spring of need. Whimpering, you dimly realized that your hands were grasping desperately at his arms and your thighs had fallen open wide of their own accord.
“There you go, pet. Take your pleasure, be a good little girl.” The hand at your throat tightened slightly, just enough to make you have to work a bit harder to draw breath. “And then, I’m going to fuck you...and I’m not going to be gentle about it.”
The orgasm slammed into you unexpectedly, and it was unlike any you had previously experienced. The combination of his praise and threat, along with the motions of both his hands, sent your body soaring. Your cries were hoarse and strained from his grip at your throat, and your legs shook as you came all over his hand, his eyes flaring down at you with delight as your body convulsed against him.
He removed the hand from between your thighs, lifting his wet fingers to your lips and ordering you to open them. Still drunk off the orgasm, you did so without hesitation.
“Suck them clean. Taste your own desperation,” he purred, teeth nipping sharply at your ear as he ground his hips against you.
Once he was satisfied with your work, he removed his fingers from your mouth with a pop before reaching down to his crotch and starting to undo the fabric. You watched in silent awe as he removed just enough of the unearthly clothing to release his thick cock, the head a dark red and already glistening with precum. Despite your recent orgasm, you still felt a bit of apprehension, knowing it was going to be a tight fit. He gave it a few firm strokes with his fist before he grabbed your hips and twirled you around so that you were facing the wall, his feet pushing your legs open even wider, spreading you out for him.
It felt so taboo, his still fully-dressed, muscular body pressing into your naked back, his bare erection bobbing between your spread thighs. He was so tall that when the hand at your throat pushed upward, forcing your head to tip back until your face was parallel with the ceiling, he was able to lean down over you and make eye contact. You tried to look away, but his fingers pressed into your windpipe in retaliation.
“Eyes on me, girl. I want to see that little look of pain in your eyes when I press into you.”
Your eyes widened at that, causing him to chuckle. The tip of his cock notched at your opening, but he didn’t press forward, drawing out the tension of the moment.
“Who do you belong to?” he taunted.
Licking your lips with both anticipation and nervousness, you whispered, “You.”
He made a deep, approving noise in his throat. “Yes. Say it. Say my name.”
“Loki,” you answered with a cry, as he started to press his cock forward, your body twisting as it struggled to adjust to the wide head.
“No no, don’t tense up,” he hissed. “Take it. Take it all.”
With that, he pushed inside you with one long, slow thrust. You felt the slight burn as your body stretched to accommodate every thick inch. It must’ve shown in your face, because his lips curled into a smirk at the same time as he groaned deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your back.
“Mmm, you suffer so beautifully for me. Look at you, taking all of my cock like a good little girl.”
The bastard knew what his words did to you, panting out a chuckle when he felt you involuntarily clench around him in response. Your hands were braced against the wall, back arched as he grasped your throat and hip with his hands and impaled you on his cock. You felt so full, so utterly overtaken when he ground his hips into your ass, as if to see just how deep he could go.
He withdrew slowly before thrusting back in, quick and harsh, causing you to cry out with the sharp pleasure-pain. He did it again, pulling his hips back agonizingly slow until the tip of his cock was resting at your entrance. He paused for a moment before pushing back inside, as if to recreate that initial claiming thrust. After doing this about half a dozen times, he stopped teasing and set up a steady and deep rhythm, each thrust sending sparks throughout your entire body.
Your eyes had started to flutter shut, but his hand cutting off your air caused them to reopen and focus up at him, his chiseled features hovering over you in the dim light, gaze searing down into your own. This time, you didn’t panic, didn’t tug at his arm, just stared up at him with desire-glazed eyes and let him do as he wished. You could practically feel his approval of your surrender, his fingers loosening long enough for you to draw a few breaths before tightening again.
“You’re so pretty like this, surrendering to me,” he growled through bared teeth, once again letting up on your throat so that you could gasp in air and let it out with a moan. “Every breath you take is mine. Every gasp from your lips, every flutter of your pulse...it’s because I allow it. And now, I’m going to fill up this cunt and claim it as mine.”
Your whimper was cut off as his hand tightened once more, hips picking up the pace as he thrust brutally into you, his balls smacking your clit and fingers pressing so deeply into your hip that you knew there would be bruises to match the ones at your throat. The edges of your vision were starting to become fuzzy when he let up for the last time, his hand lowering from your neck to run over your breasts, tweaking the nipples until you whined before continuing downward.
When his fingertips zeroed in on your clit, you let out a pleading noise which, under other circumstances, would’ve made you ashamed at how needy it sounded. You weren’t sure what exactly you were begging for, but you did know that he was the only one who could give it to you. The harsh bite of his cock dragging against your sensitive inner walls combined with the fast and skilled movements of his fingers drove you up to the edge, forehead dropping to the wall as you moaned uncontrollably, his answering grunts sending shivers through you.
The hand gripping your hip came up to wrap in your hair, pulling your head back so that you were once again looking up at him, and you couldn’t help but think that he was one of the most glorious creatures you had ever seen. His features looked as wrecked as you felt, cords in his neck standing out with stark relief in his pale, moonlit skin as his jaw clenched tightly, eyes focused unwaveringly on you. It was one of the most intensely intimate moments of your life, his piercing gaze breaking you wide open with nowhere to hide.
You started shaking uncontrollably, body balanced right on the knife’s edge of pleasure and wanting so badly to fall over into the abyss. His lips twisted knowingly as your pussy started to flutter around his cock.
“Yes, that’s it. Come for me.” The hand between your legs pressed in harder, moved faster. “Come for your god.”
As if the words were the final push your body needed, the orgasm flowed through you. It wasn’t as volatile a punch as the first one; instead, it drowned you in waves of blissfully intense pleasure that drew soft cries from your lips, the sound mingling with his own strangled groan. Leaning down, hand still fisted in your hair, he bit into your shoulder as he came. You felt his warm cum filling you as he did just as he promised, and claimed you as his.
Mind floating from the high of your orgasm and body trembling with little aftershocks, you felt his hips slow then still, his mouth moving from your shoulder to lick a trail of sweat that was running down the side of your neck. Whimpering, you couldn’t stop your hips from pushing back into his, grinding onto the softening cock that was still buried deep.
He hummed with approval, his hands running up over your sides, tracing your body with possession for a few long moments as both of your bodies calmed. Taking your earlobe gently between his teeth, he whispered, “You’re mine now. Anytime I want you, anywhere I choose. Is that clear, kitten?”
Part of you wanted to deny him, wanted to find the strength to fight back, now that the orgasmic stupor was starting to lift. Instead, your body responded of its own accord, head nodding with submission.
His lips pressed softly to your temple, making you gasp at the gentle touch. You realized dazedly that it was the first kiss he’d given you all night.
“Good girl.”
The words were said a moment before his body moved away, his cock slipping wetly from your body. The cool air hitting your back made you immediately miss his body heat. You turned around, unsure what to do or say next…
But he was gone.
The back door was slightly ajar from him disappearing into the night, leaving you standing there, naked and shivering, his cum starting to trickle down the inside of your thigh. Grabbing your shorts and panties, you put them on before finding the tatters of your tank top and holding it to the front of your chest. Walking over to the door, you closed it with a click that sounded unnaturally loud in the empty kitchen.
You went around to the windows and re-closed the blinds, stopping at the last one to glance out into the yard. It was empty, completely undisturbed, but you knew he hadn’t gone far...and that he wouldn’t be gone for long.
Leaving the broken glass in the sink to deal with in the morning, you grabbed another one, filled it with water, and headed for the staircase. As you tucked back into bed, body already sore in places that made your skin heat with the memory, you thought back over his final words.
You’re mine now. Anytime I want you, anywhere I choose.
You wondered when he’d return to make good on his promise...and as you drifted off to sleep, tried to ignore the dark part of you that hoped it would be soon.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Afterword: This is meant to be only a one shot. I know, I know, I left it very open-ended. But I like to leave something to the imagination, so y’all can create your own fantasy idea of what might happen to “you” next ;)
#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#loki laufeyson smut#loki laufeyson x reader#loki odinson smut#loki laufeyson fanfiction#loki laufeyson fanfics#loki odinson x reader#loki#loki smut#loki fanfics#loki fanfiction#loki x reader#loki odinson fanficton#tom hiddleston#marvel#marvel smut#marvel fanfics#marvel fanfiction#fanfiction#loki laufeyson x reader insert#loki odinson x reader insert#loki x reader insert#reader insert
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bad Bad Girlfriend
Prologue
Bucky Barnes x dark! reader
Warnings: Sex, stalking.Also murder, manipulating people,general mayhem, con woman, cannon level violence
Casey in the bushes with a machete
Will update warnings on each chapter if necessary.
Slight AU
Casey Piven was sitting at the bar of a club downtown. She was looking for her next mark, but so far the pickings were slim.
She'd chatted up a lawyer earlier but he'd been more interested in his next fix than her.
Too bad, he was hot.
Just when she thought she was going to have to move on to another bar, the night got a lot more interesting. The Avengers walked into the bar on a wave of laughter. They all seemed to be making fun of the dark haired man who was wearing gloves and a leather jacket in this heat. He seemed to be throwing their comments right back at them with a sweet smile.
"I'm just saying Buck if you lose another cell phone my assistant is going to kick your ass." Captain America said.
"Naa. She loves me. She won't get mad at me." Buck, you think he said answers as they sit a few stools away.
"I wouldn't count on that saving you." Steve Rogers says.
Casey tried not to look at them, and a redhead who could only be the Black Widow sits down on Steve's other side drawing his attention away from Buck.
When their eyes meet in the mirror behind the bar Buck smiles and Casey smiles back. He turns facing her and says 'Hi. I'm Bucky."
"I'm Casey," she replies, holding her hand out to shake. He turns it and kisses her knuckles. Then moves over to the stool right next to hers and orders them both a drink.
Casey doesn't know what to make of him. He chats with her, rubbing her arm, leaning in like he's interested. He puts his hand on her back when he's ordering more drinks. They talk for hours. When she looks at the time, she makes an excuse to leave. Work in the morning. Total lie but leave em wanting more.
Bucky asks for her number then says he will call tomorrow. After Steve's assistant gets him a new phone. He keeps dropping or losing them, he admits sheepishly.
"It was really nice to meet you Bucky" she says and kisses his cheek before heading for the door.
He calls the next afternoon and invited her to movie night with his friends. She arrived at the compound dressed in jeans and a decent top with her hair in a ponytail. Makeup minimal.
When she passed the front gate she stared in amazement. The big building was a lot of glass. Shaking it off she parked in a visitor spot and went into the lobby.
"Hi, I'm Casey Piven. I'm here to see Bucky." She said with a smile.
"Yes ma'am," he answers, checking her out. " Cap's assistant is going to escort you up. That's her," he says pointing to the harassed looking woman, having a heated conversation on her phone at the other end of the security desk.
"No, Sam I will not be able to get flowers before 6. I have to escort Bucky's date to movie night, pick up Cap's dry cleaning, order enough pizza to feed all of them, and you know that includes Clint so it's a lot. Then I still have hours of paperwork and I haven't even started on the packets for that presentation you are making on Thursday." She seemed pissed. Casey wondered if Captain Rogers' assistant needed an assistant. "Fine! Fine, Sam. I will call Shelley at the florist and see if she can bring you something but don't bitch about what you get. Next time give a girl some warning."
"Umm.. excuse me?" Casey said trying to not laugh at the disgruntled expression on the assistants face. "The security guard said I needed to have you escort me to Bucky."
"Right, sorry." She blew out a breath and dialed the phone while heading to the elevator." Come with me. Shelley, how are you? I need a favor…"
The assistant didn't speak to Casey again, but that was ok. She was busy looking around.
Getting off the elevator, they moved to a room with no windows. "The media room," the assistant said, leading Casey to a chair. "Friday tell Bucky his guest is here." She said to the ceiling.
"Right away ma'am." A female voice replied.
"Friday is an AI. She monitors the building." The assistant says, then goes back to her call."Shelley you are a lifesaver."
Bucky entered the room a few moments later, and greeted Casey with a kiss on the cheek. The assistant rolled her eyes.
"How are you?" Bucky asked.
"Not great," Casey says. "I got laid off from my job today. They waited until the end of my shift, but it's whatever."
She saw the look of speculation on the assistants face, but Bucky was all sympathetic and comforting.
That was the beginning of 3 weeks of being romanced. Wined and dined. Spending whole weekends in bed, talking about anything and everything.
Casey was in love, so when Bucky invited her to the compound on a Friday night she went without question.
In the lobby it was a repeat of the first time she had entered the place. Security guard says to wait for Steve's assistant, Steve's assistant on the phone arguing.
"No Natasha I can't get the new model until it releases on Monday. I called and they will ship it on Monday, you should have it by Wednesday or Thursday. No they won't let me pick it up. It's manufacturer is in Asia somewhere and I don't have time to fly there." The assistant said, turning she spots Casey and sighs."NATASHA! I have to go, Bucky's visitor is here. Yes, he wants me to do it again. I know it's fucked up."
Motioning Casey to the cluster of chairs on the other side of the room, Steve's assistant follows her over and tells her to sit down. The assistant takes the opposite seat and leans her elbows on her knees.
"Look Casey, I'm really sorry. Bucky asked me to let you know that he isn't ready for a relationship. He respects you and he feels too damaged to continue something that isn't going anywhere." The assistant sounds like she's said this before.
Casey stares at the assistant. "Why wouldn't he tell me himself? I want to see him, NOW!"
"He isn't here." The assistant answers, waving back the guard who started around the security desk.
"So he just had you break up with me? I don't believe you. This doesn't make any sense. He was at my place this morning. Why wouldn't he tell me?" She'd been played. What the hell? She hadn't seen it coming.
The assistant sighs again, sitting back in her chair. She is watching Casey way too closely. Casey thinks she is getting some sick pleasure out of this.
"I just delivered the message." The assistant says standing. "Your number has been blocked, your access to the compound is revoked. If you come back you won't get through the gate. I'm sorry but I have to go now. I'm busy."
When the assistant stands to leave Casey jumps up, grabbing the other girl's arm.
"Did he really send you or did you just decide you want him for yourself?" Casey practically screams at the assistant. To her shock the assistant starts to laugh, loudly, causing the security guard to sit back down with a smile.
"I can do better than that man-whore and plan to. You should go. Don't make a fool out of yourself over this." She walks away, answering her phone as she waits for the elevator."Yes Wanda?," She says."Ok, I'm on my way back up and I'll fix it."
She steps into the elevator and is gone. Casey stands in shock for a moment, then storms out of the lobby. She gets in her car and heads to the bar. Rage is taking root and she doesn't know what to do.
After drinking all evening Casey goes home to the apartment she rented for the last con. Her bed still smelled like Bucky's cologne and it makes her head spin.
She spends days following the assistant on errands and back to her little house. The assistant is never home for long. Flying back to the compound at all hours.
Casey took this as proof that she was seeing Bucky.
At 3 a.m. on a Saturday morning, Casey waited in the bushes for the assistant to get home. Casey had followed her to the Avengers Compound at 11pm the previous night so she should be home soon. Casey's hear thundered in her chest.
Jumping out of the bushes at the assistant she was shocked when the girl evaded her attack and pulled a gun. She smacked Casey in the head with the gun and called 911 on her cell phone.
Courts, restraining orders, a visit from Homeland Security and the FBI.
It all went by in a blur.
After it was all over Casey was heartbroken, branded a stalker and under observation from everyone.
And still determined to get Bucky back….
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Game Night
Rafael Barba x Reader. CW: Rough sex, dub-con to be safe, talks of dom/sub dynamics. NSFW. AN: Fills the mirror sex card in kink bingo. WC: 2371
AN: Y/B/F/N: your best friend’s name
--
Rafael hadn’t meant to overhear your conversation. He presumed you were asleep as he had to work late in the office finishing up a motion for summary judgment. You were standing against the door of the bathroom, talking to whom he assumed was a friend. He wasn’t expecting what came out of your mouth next.
“I wish he would do that. Just take me, bend me over and fuck me. God, that sounds so fucking hot!”
The Catholic guilt set in. He knew he should go straight down to your shared bedroom. Curiosity bested him and he took another step forward. The floorboard creaked and he automatically froze. You did too and peeked your head out. “Rafi! You’re home!” You turned to the receiver, dropping your head down. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow – Thai for lunch? Perfect.”
You hung up the phone and placed it on the mahogany stained console table before straightening the vase of roses that graced it – roses, Rafael had bought for you earlier in the week.
“Guapo!” You greeted him once more, wrapping your arms around him. “Welcome home. I’ve missed you.” You pressed a large kiss on his lips before nuzzling his neck. Rafael squeezed your close to him, his fingertips pressing into the dip of your waist. He returned your kiss.
“I’ve missed you too.” He murmured. “Who was that you were talking to?”
“Oh! Y/B/F/N – work had her overseas for a bit, remember? She just got back earlier today. We’re going to have lunch tomorrow.” You spun on your heels and made a move to break the embrace, when Rafael pulled you back closer to him. You let out a giggle, feeling Rafael’s hardened cock against your ass. Feeling lascivious, you wiggled against his erection. Rafael let out a small growl before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulders. Marching towards the bedroom, he gave your ass a resounding smack which caused you to squeal. And then in the bedroom, he made you come again and again and again.
--
You were surprised the next morning when you found Rafael sitting on the couch, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. You wore his old Harvard t-shirt, which had seen better years. It was tattered and frayed but extremely soft and comfortable. Rafael had purchased a new one and planned to toss that one, but you insisted on keeping it for yourself.
You threw yourself onto the opposite end of the couch, stretching out your legs, until they had just touched his outer thighs. “I thought you had work.”
Rafael put down his coffee and paper on the end table, before grabbing your feet. You let out a soft moan as he began to rub them. “I took the day off, figured we hadn’t had a long weekend in ages. We were overdue.”
You let out a squeal before your plans for the day smacked you in the face. “Ah shit, I have plans with Y/B/F/N for lunch, remember?”
Rafael cocked his head. “Well, go to lunch. I know you’ve missed her. In the meantime, breakfast? Russ & Daughters?”
You nodded in agreement. “Just don’t get the caviar cream cheese again.” You crinkled your nose, making a face. Rafael let out a guffaw. “Duly noted.”
--
While you had gone out to lunch, Rafael busied himself with errands. He dropped off his suits at the cleaners and picked up a rare two volume set at Argosy Bookstore. He was drinking an Earl Grey latte when he walked past the store front for a sex shop. Rafael paused, taking in the brick and mortar shop. The window front appeared tame upon first blush, but on closer inspection, it was the opposite. Frosted glass covered the majority of the window, but past the coated glass, there was very sensual black and white imagery: a woman moaning, an image of sinewy thigh – and the implication that they wore a strap-on, hands gripping someone’s skin tightly. Curiosity piqued and your comment haunting his mind, he took a large gulp and went inside.
The store was elegant, with curtain lights hanging off the ceiling. Floor to ceiling bookshelves were filled with books covering every kink and pleasure known. Vibrators, dildos, anal plugs of all shapes and sizes graced floating shelves. Rafael chuckled quietly at the handcuffs.
“May I help you? I’m Liria and I own this shop.”
Rafael jumped slightly and turned around. He came face to face with a petite woman in an off the shoulder billowing dress with a bemused look on her face. An obscene amount of bangles hung off her wrists and clanked together as she clasped her hands together.
“I… my partner…” Rafael began, finding himself at a loss for words. He had always assumed you and him had a healthy and happy sex life. You never once voiced that it was anything but. Your comment gnawed at him and he was eager to want to please, but he wasn’t sure how.
“Deep breath sir. Nothing to be ashamed of here.” Liria winked. “Tell me about your partner. Tell me about their wants and your desires.”
Rafael ended up staying in the shop for hours on end, going over details of his sex life with you with someone who was a complete stranger, but yet, felt comfortable being a complete open book with. As a lawyer, as a prosecutor, Liria explained, Rafael was a natural dominant. There was truth within that role that resonated with being a dominant. Thanks to the nature of his work, he was worried about taking on such a role.
“The goal is to alter your style slightly based on your submissive; you will still have a style distinct to you. You can keep those elements of what are true to you without compromising the needs of your submissive. You’re already going to be a good dom. In order to be an effective dom, it requires intuition, reading nonverbal communication and empathy, all of which you have. That said, submission is about the giving/receiving of power. Think about how you want to feel. Think about what arouses you. Think about what turns you on.”
Finally Rafael blurted out what he had heard you say. “She wants me to just bend her over –"
The sound of his phone vibrating interrupted him. “Excuse me.” Rafael apologized. Liria watched Rafael intently as he spoke with you. Murmurs of a game night invite popped up, to which he agreed to. Liria raised a finger, mouthing she would be back to which Rafael nodded. A few minutes passed and he was off the phone. Liria returned with a host of different items.
The air in the room changed with Rafael realizing he had to be on his way. Liria continued talking to him about dominating as he paid for a few items that he was certain would help spice things up. And then he was on his way.
--
A sucker for trip-hop and downtempo music, you had an eclectic mix of music playing loudly in the apartment when Rafael returned home. He set down his bags and walked down to the kitchen in search of you.
“Y/N?” Rafael called out.
“Bathroom, doing my makeup.” You called out.
Rafael made his way to the bathroom and felt his cock stir in his pants at the sight of you bent over, in just a loose tanktop, that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs and lacey black panties. From the reflection in the mirror, he can tell your nipples are hard. His eyes darted to the phone and your comments ring in his head once more. He walked over to the kitchen, poured himself a scotch and downed it in one gulp. He slammed the drink on the table and walked into the bedroom where he whipped off the sweater he wore and made his way back to the bathroom.
You felt Rafael’s presence behind you as you glued on a false lash. You squeezed your eye shut, adjusting and then opened them, batting your lashes repeatedly. Your lips were painted a bright orange-red and your cheeks were dewy. You smiled brightly at Rafael’s reflection and moved to coat them in mascara. A large hand trailed down your back, landing at the hem of your underwear. Rafael traced it ever so lightly before snapping the band. You were about to turn your head to say something when Rafael wrapped his hand around your hair and pulled tightly.
“Look at you, teasing papi like that… you make my cock so fucking hard.” Rafael growled in your ear.
“Do I now?” You breathed, your heart racing in anticipation. He let loose your hair and took your hand before placing it on his erection. You rubbed his erection and a rumble emanated from his chest.
Rafael braced you over the sink, his hand splayed down the small of your back, forcing you to assume a subservient, bent over position. An ache pooled between your legs and you felt yourself grow wet when he nudged your feet apart with the tip of his brogues.
Rafael rutted against your ass as his hands ran over the front of your chest, grabbing the swells of your breasts and pinching your nipples. “You’re going to take this cock, me entiendes?”
You let out a whimper and nodded. Rafael stood back and freed his cock, giving the length a few pumps before he got to the waistband of your underwear. Rafael pushed the material aside as he slipped two thick, long fingers inside of you. You moaned loudly in response.
“Did I say you could moan?” Rafael grunted as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You shook your head as you bucked against his hand, eager for more. In response, Rafael stroked you harder, his fingers curling to stroke that sweet spot inside of you. You could hear how wet you were as his digits moved in and out of you, twisting and scissoring. You gripped the edges of the sink, trembling as you felt your orgasm grow in your belly. Just as you felt your orgasm broach, Rafael took his fingers out roughly and you whined at the absent feeling. Rafael brought his fingers to your mouth and you accepted them eagerly, sucking them off as if they were his cock.
Rafael removed his fingers and bent you over again. “What do you want?”
“Please.” You begged. “Fuck me.”
You felt his cock at the tip of your entrance and he teased you, smacking his cock against your cunt. He slipped through your slick and settled at your entrance. “Is this what you want?”
You nodded. “Please, please.” You begged shamelessly.
Without warning, Rafael thrusted fully into you, burying his cock into you. You let out a gasp and Rafael began to fuck into you hard and fast, his balls slapping against you.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned. Rafael’s hands smoothed up your sides, pulling your tank top up roughly, exposing your breasts. He cupped your breasts, tugging on your nipples until they were more sensitive than they were before. One hand remained on the dip of your hip, pulling you down onto his cock, while another wrapped up into your hair, pulling you so you were flushed against him. Rafael’s breath on your neck was hot and you could smell the scotch he had earlier.
“Look in the mirror.” Rafael grunted and he moved his hand from your hip to your chin, forcing you to look in the mirror. The reflection of Rafael’s stern face as he fucked you from behind – him taking you without abandon, titillated you. “Look at how beautiful you look getting fucked with my cock.”
You let out a whine as he slowed his pace, teasing you with a circle of his hips. It didn’t last long as he began to fuck into you even harder, your ass jiggling with every impact of his hips smacking against yours.
“I am going to come…” you warned. Rafael nipped your ear, gripping your hair tighter.
“Better ask my permission.” He replied, his voice low and husky.
“Please… can I come?”
“You want to come for me? Come on that cock?” Rafael asked as he reached down to rub your clit.
“Please! Please let me come… oh fuck, oh fuck!”
“Come for me, show me how much you enjoy being fucked like a good little slut you are.” Rafael commanded. Your walls fluttered around his cock.
“That’s it.” Rafael encouraged. “Good girl.”
You wailed his name as you came. Your orgasm tore through your veins and your cunt gripped his cock tightly, triggering his own release.
“Oh shit. I am going to come!” Rafael grunted as he thrusted erratically. His fingers gripped your hips tightly as he stiffened. You could feel his cock pulse and twitch inside of you. He pulled out, stepping back on slightly wobbly feet. Rafael reached and fixed your underwear.
“That was so much better than I could have ever imagined.” You replied dreamily, as you felt his cum seep out of you and ruin your underwear even more. A thought occurred to you and you looked at him, eyes wide. “How did you know?”
“I heard you on the phone.” Rafael confessed. “But it was okay? It was good for you?”
You wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Of course.”
After a few beats Rafael asked you about the upcoming game night and you moved to freshen your makeup.
You went to change your underwear after choosing your outfit when Rafael stopped you.
“Leave them on. I want you to wear them the whole time at game night. Just think about me fucking you.” Rafael purred.
--
At your friend’s place, you and Rafael sat across from each other, as it was girls vs boys in charades. You shifted in your seat, your underwear thoroughly ruined from earlier. Rafael took a swig of his beer and cocked a brow at you, causing your cheeks to burn.
“Oh, Y/N?” Rafael called out to you oh so innocently. You looked at Rafael as everyone began to settle in.
“Remind me when we get home to tell me about a little shop I found. You’re going to love it.”
FIN
--
Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @prurientpuddlejumper @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne
123 notes
·
View notes
Note
Consider, if you will, a designated, pre-planned Lazy Weekend for Hancon in canon. Like, Hank says something offhand about "gee we've been so busy lately we haven't had a chance to just stay in and have a lazy weekend" so Connor straight up makes an itinerary for their Lazy Weekend, including calculating the exact amount of time Hank should sleep in and the percentage of droop Hank's old DPD sweatshirt has to determine if it's Lazy enough.
//I am in love with this
It was about midday on Friday when Hank went into the captain’s office. As soon as Hank stepping the captain frosted the glass and he could read their hear signatures but couldn’t hear what there were saying. He would have turned up his audio processors, but Gavin was listening to music at a loud volume yet again and he didn’t want to deal with the ringing in his ears that it left him with. So he was left to guess.
Hank had been going on for a couple days about how much they had been working, and that “humans need a breather from time to time, for fuck’s sake Connor.” So if he were going to guess the Lieutenant was asking for a few days off. He doubted it would be successful, but Hank could use a break. He wasn’t sleeping enough according to Connor’s scans. Perhaps if the captain said no he could put Hank in for a vacation time directly, he might get in trouble, but the Lieutenant deserved it, Connor would be able to handle the work on his own. There really shouldn’t be a problem workload wise, and according to Hank life wasn’t any fun if you didn’t break a few rules along the way.
Staring at the Captain’s office wasn’t going to help him get anything done. If he got more of their files done Hank might be allowed to go home sooner. He interfaced with his terminal and got to work, he hoped to be caught up by the time Hank got back. It was by no means a reasonable goal but he planned to try either way. It wouldn’t hurt anything, and if all else failed, he could catch up while Hank was at home assuming things stayed quiet.
“Pack up.” The suddenness of Hank’s voice startled Connor badly enough he broke the interface.
“Excuse me?” He said, he put a hand over his thirium pump regulator like that would slow its cycle. It was something he picked up from Hank.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Hank amended, “But pack up, we have the weekend off.”
“We?” Connor continued, “Lieutenant - Hank - I don’t need to take time off. You are the one that needs rest.”
Hank rolled his eyes, “You quite literally have not had a day off in your life, so pack your shit and let’s go.”
Connor blinked a few times but grabbed his jacket, it was a charcoal grey thing that Nines had gotten him to replace his CyberLife blazer. It was still just for show, but he liked to look nice. He stood and Hank gave him that half smile that did odd things to his thirium pump. He placed his hand over it again like that would somehow help. It didn’t.
Hank didn’t seem to notice, “I have the whole weekend planned. We aren’t doing jack shit. All I want to do is relax.”
Connor followed him out of the precinct making plans of his own. How much sleep Hank would need to get in order to feel well rested again and make up for at least some of the hours he had missed. He also looked up what someone was supposed to wear on a lazy weekends, pajamas apparently, which he didn’t own because up until now he hadn’t needed to own any. He frowned slightly.
“Hank I don’t have the things necessary for this kind of weekend.” He said as he opened the passenger side door of the old beat up car, “I have no need for pajamas.”
The way Hank looked at him was a mix of blatant amusement and annoyance, “Connor, relax. I’ll handle that.”
“And manage to get twelve hours of sleep?” Connor pressed after Hank joined him in the car, “Because in order to be awake at a decent time tomorrow and sleep enough you have to go to bed in exactly two hours.”
The sigh Hank let out in response was definitely one of annoyance, “Connor, it’s a weekend to relax there is no schedule. I’ll sleep when I feel like it.”
“But you need to catch up on your rest Hank.” He continued.
“And I will Connor, on my own time.” Hank said in mild exasperation as he pulled out of the parking lot, “I promise.” Connor eyed him skeptically and even without looking Hank seemed to notice because he took a hand off the steering wheel and flipped him off, “Have faith in a guy would you.”
It was Connor’s turn to look unimpressed, “Hank, the last time I had faith in you, you called me at two in the morning incredibly intoxicated and in need of a ride.”
“A guy messes up one time and you never let it go.” Hank remarked with a slight smile, “Would you believe me if I told you I’ll behave?”
“Will you behave Hank?” He shot back.
“Touche.” He turned on the radio after that and Connor let the conversation fall away.
He took sleeping of the schedule but didn’t know what else to put on the docket for the weekend. Movies? Hank seemed to like the science fiction movies from the early 2000s, Connor didn’t see the appeal but he was certain he could find a few Hank hadn’t seen.
“Stop it.” Hank said out of the blue.
Connor turned to look at him with his brows furrowed in confusion, “What am I doing?”
“Thinking, planning. You’re light’s been on yellow for like a whole minute.” Hank gestured to his temple, “It is a lazy weekend Con, be lazy. Turn all that off.”
“How?” He asked as Hank parked in the driveway.
“That’s what we’re gonna figure out. What does it take for one work obsessed android to unwind.” Hank opened his door and got out. Connor rolled his eyes and followed suit.
Sumo greeted them both when they went inside, he was excited to see Hank again, but nearly flattened Connor when he saw the android. Connor didn’t come across as often since he had gotten a place of his own. He was just as excited to see the large dog as well. He got down on his knees and greeted the dog with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Maybe he could spend the weekend playing with Sumo, that’s pretty relaxing.
“I’m gonna change and then see if I can find you some more comfortable clothes.” Hank said as he headed down the hall.
Connor nodded at him as he left, he didn’t feel much in the way of comfort. There were fabrics he liked better than others but he didn’t think in terms of comfortable or uncomfortable. He didn’t sleep so he hadn’t invested in pajamas, he kind of regretted that now. Sumo rolled onto his back and Connor leaned over him and continued to scratch at his stomach, smiling at the hammering of his tail against the floor. This was nice. His systems were calm and there were no pending notifications or tasks in his systems.
He was smacked in the head with a pile of fabric. He flinched and the clothes fell to floor, “Go get changed kid. The big lug will be here when you get back.”
“Alright.” He picked up the clothes and headed for the bathroom with the bundle in his arms.
Hank had given him a pair of grey sweat pants, they were going to be to big but they were pretty soft so that was nice and his old DPD hoodie. It was well worn and soft in a different way than the pants. Though the searches that came up when he scanned the hoodie mostly showed images of people working out, which he didn’t think fit Hank’s definition of relaxing. He changed anyway. He folded his clothes and then tucked them in the cabinet beneath the sink so they would be out of the way.
There was something about not being in business clothes for once. It was strange but in a pleasant way. It was almost like a visual way to tell people not to expect things of him, and he could see the appeal behind it. He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way back toward the living room. Hank smiled at the sight of him.
“See? Isn’t that better?” He asked and patted the spot beside him on the couch, “I ordered dinner while you were in the bathroom. Before you start, it’s healthy-ish and I come sauces for you to sample.”
“It’s different...” He found himself smiling at Hank’s thoughtfulness, “Thank you for that.”
“I do have one request of you though.” Hank continued as Connor sat down.
“What’s that?” Connor asked.
“As much as your able without hurting yourself, turn your internet off.” Hank said, “I’m gonna show you some movies I think you’ll like but I don’t want you looking them up okay?”
Connor nodded and turned off his external search function and leaned back against the couch, “There.”
“Great now relax, you look like someone shoved a two by four up your ass.” Hank said and tried to push him back into the couch.
“I am relaxed, I think.” He responded.
“Then, like fuckin slouch or something.” Hank remarked, “You’re so stiff its making me uncomfortable.”
“Your poor posture is why your back hurts.” Connor countered, “Is temporary comfort really worth that?”
Hank didn’t answer him, not directly anyway. He snapped his fingers to get Sumo’s attention, “Sumo, up.”
The big dog boofed his excitement and jumped up onto the couch pressing Connor both back into the couch and up against Hank. Once the beast was situated Hank started the movies. They fell into comfortable silence. With one hand absently petting Sumo and his head resting on Hank’s shoulder, Connor decided that this whole relaxing thing was pretty nice. They should do it more often.
@irrelevantbutfabulous
#Canonverse short#HankCon#dbh Hank#dbh Connor#dbh fic#dbh#Birthday Ask Event!#ask panda#panda has all the answers!
15 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
recoveryboot
Endurance Recovery Boots
whotfam-i
xid
lustsexlove1
Lust Sex Love
avecorviidae
there's ink in your blood!
fearless--swiftie-13
Emma