#i think if i drew in the pattern he would come after me and murder me in my sleep lsajhdlkshal
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Could you maybe do Alastor with a reader who is a big fan of his radio and serial killer work when from when he was alive?
I feel like he'd turn it into a game when he realises and keeps hinting but never outright saying he and this radio host they admired in life are one and the same.
The moment I stumbled upon Mr. Hartfelts radio broadcasts, my life changed. His voice, rich and captivating, pulled me in, and his dark humor kept me coming back for more. There was something magnetic about the way he spoke, a charisma that was impossible to ignore. I had devoured every broadcast, every hint of his dark deeds cloaked in the guise of entertainment.
He’d cover the local news, which of course, included crime. He seemed to have a particular fascination with the local murders, the most infamous of which was carried out by someone called the Bayou Butcher. The other murderers would disappear days after they’d been mentioned on the show, but he was the most consistent. The style of his killings was profound, easy to identify, and so was the pattern of who he targeted.
What was interesting was Mr. Hartfelts knowledge on the cases, how he was able to describe the events better than the police did in official reports. Most brushed it off as apart of his story telling skills, but I noticed more. Little details unavailable to the public, and in some cases, even the pi,ice. Details he wouldn’t know unless he was there- unless he was the Bayou Butcher. I wasn’t a snitch, and I had no hard evidence, so I kept that little secret to myself.
What fascinated me most was the way he targeted those who preyed on the weak. In a twisted sense, he was a vigilante, dispensing his own brand of justice. It was a dangerous admiration, but I couldn't help it. There was something thrilling about the idea that someone out there was standing up for those who couldn't defend themselves.
When I found myself in Hell, it was a shock to say the least. But the real surprise came when I met a fellow named Alastor. His charm was just as potent, his radio motif drew me in, and there was an air of familiarity about him that I couldn't quite place. He seemed to take an immediate interest in me, and before long, we became close. Close enough that I felt comfortable sharing my fascination with that infamous radio host from my living days.
"I was a huge fan," I confessed one evening as we sat together in the lounge. "Listened to every broadcast. It was like he was speaking directly to me."
Alastor's eyes gleamed with interest. "Is that so? Quite the mysterious figure, wasn't he?"
I nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! The way he dealt with those horrible people, it was... well, it felt like justice. In a way no one else had the courage to deliver."
He chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. "Indeed. A unique approach to morality, wouldn’t you say? What was it that drew you to him so much?"
I paused, considering my answer. "I guess it was the idea that someone could take a stand. Do something about the evil in the world, even if it was in such a drastic way."
Alastor's smile widened, a knowing glint in his eye. "A very admirable perspective. Some might even say... inspiring."
There was something in his tone that made me wonder, but I brushed it off. It wasn't the first time he'd said something that made me think he knew more than he let on.
As the weeks passed, Alastor began dropping more hints. Subtle, almost playful. He'd mention details about the broadcasts, things only a true insider would know. It was like a game, and I was eager to piece it together.
One night, as we walked through the streets of Hell, he turned to me with that familiar, mischievous smile. "Tell me," he began, "what would you say if you found out your admired radio host was still around, in some form or another?"
My heart skipped a beat. "You mean... here? In Hell?"
He chuckled. "Hypothetically speaking, of course. But if it were true, how would that make you feel?"
I considered it, a shiver of excitement running through me. "I'd be thrilled, I think. To know that someone I admired so much was... well, real. And still carrying out his work."
Alastor's eyes twinkled with delight. "Well, my dear, perhaps you should keep your ears open. You never know what you might discover."
The next day, I woke to find an old radio sitting on my bedside table, one that looked suspiciously similar to the model Alastor had described in one of his stories. I turned it on, and the familiar voice that filled the room sent chills down my spine. It was unmistakable. Unfiltered, no transatlantic accent. It was him, Mr. Hartfelt.
I confronted him that evening, my heart pounding with excitement and a hint of fear. "Alastor," I began, trying to keep my voice steady, "is it you? Are you the radio host?"
He smiled, that enigmatic, knowing smile. "What do you think?"
It was all the confirmation I needed. My admiration for him grew tenfold, knowing that the man I had looked up to, the man who had taken a stand against the worst of humanity, was right here with me.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, a mix of awe and curiosity in my voice.
He chuckled, pulling me into a close embrace. "Where's the fun in that? It's much more entertaining to watch you figure it out."
#alastor hartfelt#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#the radio demon#alastor hazbin x reader#human alastor#alastor hazbin#alastor x reader
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❛ i'm telling you, this is all playing out exactly like my dream. ❜ (nova bahahahaha)
🐝 * ― 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑬𝑺 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
( continued from x )
He couldn't get through the boundary, the irony it was his own damn spell keeping him from her was not lost on him, but he could stand right here. "I think you're missing the point," he replied, mimicking her measured, bullshit tone, "she may not have been my wife at the gala, but I would defend that girl regardless."
His blood was boiling, but in the way it had on the night in question, in a way that awakened every sense. It cleared his mind, fueled every ounce of vitriole about to come her way.
❛ i'm telling you, this is all playing out exactly like my dream. ❜
"You are new to the supernatural sphere, so let me once again remind you of your privilege in this world, Nov. You walked into the gala as a human, a name that whether you like it or not comes with both money and power. The OEA was always going to kiss your ass. 'Emotions were high'? I get that you saw some dead bodies, and you didn't know where your precious TJ went. He was hiding in a closet by the way, and if he told you I threatened him to get him to move his ass and do something, I absolutely did that. Billie, on the other hand, was forced to watch her friend, my best friend, brutually murdered, tortured, and then she was put back in a cage. All the death in that building, she could feel it. So when she made it out of that building and she told you to back off, that is all you should have done. Full fucking stop, Nova! What you did after that is on you. If anyone damned Nana, you did because Billie asked you and your fancy costume to walk away. I won't argue beliefs with you, but you're not gonna blame her for that. I'm not gonna stand here and listen to that. I saw her right before she left, I know what she looked like, so I know what you saw, what you ignored, what you used magic against."
Her apologies meant nothing because she didn't mean them. She wasn't sorry while she was still making excuses for her behavior. "Remember that day with TJ? The one you're apologizing for? Remember how I tried to walk away? Are you noticing a pattern between you and your beloved? Again, there's that privilege. I have tried to explain this to you so many times. The OEA wants us eradicated, it's that fancy little E in the middle of their name, and they are willing to do whatever it takes: murder, torture, experimentation, political games. They are doing it all. As a witch, you're gonna need to figure that out real quick if you're going to survive."
He was wasting breath, and maybe he couldn't get in but she couldn't get out. She made herself a little prison as long as he stood here. So he was going to stand here. The only good thing about him was Billie, but he was still no stranger to be an asshole when circumstances called for it, when making sure people who hurt her didn't come back for her.
"Maybe I should have been more succinct," he tossed back at her, as he stepped forward as close to the barrier as he could get, "and I sure hope you're listening to me." His eyes shifted into a glowing golden hue as he drew on the power from his wedding ring, and he looked directly at her. "If you lay a finger or a spell on my wife again, you better start runnin'. Not back here because this boundary won't save you then, but wherever your connections and your money can take you because I will come after you. And you will not want me to find you, do you understand?"
From one blink to the next, the shade of his eyes returned to their usual blue. "You gotta take accountability for your shit, Nova. I know you were probably thinking while you were apologizing that I wasn't going to believe you, and you're right. I don't. Because the very next breath, you're blaming Billie for reacting verbally after the hell that gala was while you reacted violently and physically. That tells me everything I need to know about what you still don't understand. I warned you about the OEA, and you didn't listen to me. You're still not listening to me, so how dare you say I'm not listening? You had the OEA escaping, but you didn't bother them. No, you came at the wounded banshee and demanded from her what you are not owed."
Exhaling, he had to stop at some point, but he had so much to say to her. So much he wanted to ask her, to understand. "But you said it better than I could: we were friends. We're not now. That has never been clearer. Hope your dream ended better than this."
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Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity
Characters: Kaoru Sakurayashiki, Kojiro Nano, OC
Warnings: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Physical/Verbal Abuse, Murder, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood/Gore
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: Arabian Nights AU. Kaoru's dancing has been gaining fame as his reputation precedes him. But a deep darkness lurks beneath the glamorous surface.
Kaoru danced along to the music that embraced him, his delicate veils fluttering around him as his arms traced graceful curves in the air while his slippered feet drew patterns in the ground to the beat of the kudüm. He'd practiced the routine enough that his body instinctively remembered how to move, so he didn't need to think about it at all as he gazed over the crowd with a proud expression that had brought so many to his feet. After all, he might only be a dancer, a mere entertainer, but he wasn't ashamed of his art or the effort that he'd put into mastering it. And he took great pleasure in watching others debase themselves in an attempt to earn his affections, if only for one night.
He never accepted such offers, of course. He might be an entertainer selling his body, but not in that way. He’d never seen the appeal of it, personally: what enjoyment did people get out of rutting like animals? It was hot, sweaty, messy… unless it was for the purposes of procreation—which he wasn’t interested in, either—he didn’t understand why others seemed to be so obsessed with it.
But he couldn’t deny that others’ dreams helped him make a living, so he could hardly complain. With a final swirl and a stamp of his feet, the music ended, the final notes of the ney echoing in the silence before the audience burst into applause and cheers.
“Kaoru! Kaoru!” Greedy hands reached out toward him as coins fell at his feet, but Kaoru merely smiled coquettishly, raising one of his veils over his mouth as he bowed before withdrawing. Still, the crowd surged after him, only to be stopped by a strong arm that barred their way. The other hand offered a glass beaded with moisture to him, and Kaoru favored the man with a smile.
“Thank you, my dear,” he purred, leaning forward to give Kojiro a peck on his cheek before he accepted it and continued toward his room. The jealousy of the onlookers was nearly palpable: a fierce heat that made the chilled coconut milk sweetened with honey all the more refreshing. Chuckling to himself, Kaoru took another sip of the drink before starting to change out of his costume into something more comfortable and practical. With the setting of the sun, the air would rapidly grow cooler, so he reached out to tug a cloak down… and he froze when a hand wrapped around his wrist.
Another hand pressed against his mouth as he opened it to call out, Kojiro’s name muffled behind the obstruction as Kaoru began to struggle, twisting and kicking as he was pinned up against the wall.
“Kaoru! Kaoru, I love you so much! You’re so beautiful, so talented… You saw me tonight, didn’t you? I was in the crowd watching you. Please, stop dancing for all those other people. Come with me to my house. I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you everything that you want. All you need to do is keep dancing for me.”
A hot and heavy breath painted the side of Kaoru’s neck, making him shudder in revulsion before he bit down, tasting blood on his teeth before his assailant’s hand jerked backwards.
“Ko—” he began to call out, only to be startled into silence when he was slapped across the face. His cheek and lips stung, and he wasn’t sure if the hot taste of copper was his own or the other man’s. It had been a long time since anybody hit him, not since he was a brat pinching a bit here and there from the market stalls, and it hurt. Before he could come to his senses, the hand was wrapped around his neck, squeezing tight.
“Shut up, you slut. I know you want this. Dancing like that, showing yourself off. I was trying to be nice, but that’s not what you want, is it? How many men have you taken up here? I bet you’ve lost count. You’re all the same: you’re just starving for dick. Well, then, I’ll give it to you.”
A strong knee insinuated itself between Kaoru’s thighs, grinding against his crotch hard, and Kaoru wanted to vomit. He tried to squirm away as he raised his free hand to try to hit the man, to drive him off, but it was easily caught with his other wrist before both of them were forced over his head, pinned against the wall.
“That’s right, you whore. You want it so bad that your body’s begging me for it, isn’t it? Humping my leg like a bitch in heat. Come on, keep going! I want to see if you can get off like this!”
Instantly, Kaoru stilled, glaring daggers at the man. Where the fuck was Kojiro? He was paid to handle things like this so that Kaoru didn’t need to worry about it. He had a few fans like this, though he didn’t recognize this one specifically. He watched him lean in, sealing his lips tightly as a disgusting tongue slid over them, followed by hot, wet lips that smeared over his skin. The man’s breath stunk of alcohol, but with the hand wrapped around his neck, he had no choice but to breathe: he was getting little enough air as it was. Nowhere near enough to raise his voice higher than a whisper.
The leg between his thighs began to move again, making Kaoru feel ill again… and then a knock came at the door.
“Kaoru? Are you done? Everyone else is ready to head out for supper.”
Kaoru’s eyes widened while the hand around his neck tightened, cutting off his air entirely.
“Kaoru?”
He couldn’t speak, but he jerked his leg forward, ramming his knee into the man’s stomach before slamming his foot against the wall with a heavy thud. His attacker bent over slightly, but perhaps he’d been expecting it, because Kaoru’s knee didn’t sink as far as he’d hoped, and he seemed only slightly winded. And his hands remained where they were. But the noise seemed to be enough.
“Kaoru? Are you alright? I’m coming in.”
The door creaked open, and Kaoru suddenly found himself wrenched off the wall, facing Kojiro with wide eyes as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and he felt something cold at his neck. Kojiro’s own eyes widened as he raised his hands slowly.
“Go away! He’s mine! He loves me!”
His breath scalded Kaoru’s neck, making him shudder with the contrast with the icy edge that hovered just above his skin.
“Okay. Let’s just calm down a little, why don’t we?” Kojiro’s voice was a quiet, reassuring rumble, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything to calm down the other man.
“He’s mine!”
“Alright, he’s yours. Why don’t you tell me about how you met?” Kojiro asked, slowly lowering himself to a seated position before lowering his hands to his lap, emanating a non-threatening aura. That seemed to mollify Kaoru’s captor a little more: the arm binding him to the man’s chest loosened slightly, though Kaoru still didn’t move, acutely aware of what was likely a blade at his throat. After all, no matter how strong Kojiro was, anything he attempted would be delayed by the need to get back up. Even so, he still took a step backwards, dragging Kaoru with him, to put more space between them.
“I first saw him a year ago, at Damascus. He was beautiful, and his dancing was ethereal, worthy of the sultan himself. But when he finished, he looked straight at me and smiled, and I knew that he wanted me too. I’ve been following him, to Beirut, then Nicosia, Rhodes, Manisa, Bursa… I’ve been waiting for him to call upon me, but he hasn’t, even though he keeps smiling at me. So I thought he wanted me to call on him instead!” He pressed a hot, wet kiss to Kaoru’s neck, making Kaoru shudder again. He hadn’t realized that someone had been following him for so long. Hadn’t realized that there was someone so clearly insane chasing after him.
“I see. His smile really is something, isn’t it?” Kaoru shot a glare at Kojiro, who was still taking things slowly. Too slowly.
“No! His smile for me is special! You’ve never seen it!” The blade pressed against Kaoru’s neck again, and he gasped softly at the feeling of something hot and wet sliding down his skin. The man noticed, too, and he was instantly contrite.
“I’m so sorry, Kaoru! But that man is getting in the way of our love. You’ll send him away, right? For us? Tell him! Tell him that you love me too! Let him know that he can never have you!”
This had been going on for far too long. Kaoru grimaced, his voice flat as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Kojiro’s.
“That’s right. I love you. I just want to be with you already.”
“I knew it!” The man sounded absolutely ecstatic as Kojiro nodded slowly, getting back up to his feet.
“Okay. I’m leaving now.”
Gritting his teeth, Kaoru watched Kojiro step out of the room, closing the door slowly. His captor finally relaxed, lowering his weapon… and Kaoru grabbed the arm wrapped around his shoulders before pitching himself forward. Both of them were thrown to the floor, and Kaoru drove his elbow into the man’s stomach before grabbing for the dagger, wrenching it out of his hand. Without hesitating, he raised it above his head before driving it down, stabbing the arm that got in his way.
“Kaoru! Kaoru, stop!”
The disgusting voice buzzed in his ears as his hand rose and fell mechanically, feeling splashes of hot liquid against his face. Eventually, the body beneath his stopped moving, but he continued to carve into it, struggling when another hand clasped around his wrist again.
“Let go!”
A face leaned away from him as the knife twisted toward it, and he caught a glimpse of green hair.
“It’s alright now, Kaoru. It’s okay. You’re safe. He won’t hurt you again.”
The soft voice was familiar and comforting, though Kojiro didn’t make any other moves, simply holding onto his arm as the strength left it. Kaoru’s fingers loosened, feeling the hilt slip out of his fingers before it thudded to the floor.
“Can you get up?”
The fingers wrapped around his wrist tugged gently, and Kaoru flinched when the other hand reached for him. But it only reached past him, tugging down the cloak he’d reached for earlier before dropping it. His eyes began to follow its drifting path, only to be arrested by a gentle hand under his chin.
“Don’t.”
Kaoru realized that he was trembling, and he let Kojiro pull him to his feet before setting him back down in his chair.
“It’s alright now,” he repeated, taking Kaoru’s hands between his own and chafing them gently to bring feeling back to them. His large hands were warm, and Kaoru just focused on the feeling of Kojiro’s palms rubbing the back of his hands, their fingers occasionally lacing together. His heart was starting to slow, his breathing evening out: he hadn’t even noticed them earlier. Still, Kojiro continued his gentle massage, murmuring quiet reassurances.
“The others?” His voice was slightly raspy, and Kaoru grimaced, but Kojiro didn’t react to it.
“I sent them ahead and told them we’d catch up.”
A weight on his chest that Kaoru hadn’t even realized was there lifted. He didn’t want anyone else to know about this. He wanted to forget about it. He wasn’t a weak woman in need of protection. He didn’t need the whispers, the looks of pity, the rumors. He’d made his own life for himself, without anyone else’s help, and he wouldn’t lose it because of something like this.
“Are you okay? Can I go fetch some water for you? You need to clean up,” Kojiro continued. Kaoru’s fingers tightened around his, not wanting to let him go, but after a moment, he nodded. With slow, deliberate moves, Kojiro stood, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the top of Kaoru’s head.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. Kaoru nodded again, remaining seated. Once Kojiro’s presence had disappeared, though, his eyes were drawn to the shape draped by cloth. It was a sort of morbid fascination… tinged by fear that it would move again. Sit up. Reach out for him. Draw a slimy tongue across his skin.
He didn’t even realize the other man had returned until something was shoved under his nose. The rich damask of roses filled his nostrils, and he looked up into warm, steady eyes.
“Don’t look. And drink this.”
Kaoru wrapped his hands around the chilled glass, raising it to his lips. Kojiro had had the rose water sweetened with honey, as well, though Kaoru still would have preferred coconut. Or maybe not: the strong floral smell was drowning out the hot, coppery scent of blood.
As he sipped at the drink, he watched Kojiro kneel in front of him again with a small basin of water and a washcloth. He soaked the cloth before squeezing it out and reaching out, rubbing it against Kaoru’s face. Kaoru couldn’t help leaning into it, breathing in the refreshing aroma of herbs that had been added to the water, before the hand withdrew and continued to carefully wipe down his face. His neck. His hands. The cloth was stained pink by the time he was done, while Kaoru continued to cradle the empty glass in his hands.
“I’m sorry, Kaoru. This is my fault. He must have snuck in through the window after I checked the room. Why don’t you use my room to change while I clean up here? What do you need?”
“You.”
He reached out, wrapping his arms around Kojiro’s neck. He heard the cloth drop back into the water before Kojiro returned the embrace carefully. Kaoru buried his face into the other man’s vest, breathing in the clean, warm smell of his skin. And then he shifted his grip, tugging Kaoru into his arms before he stood. Kaoru didn’t protest, simply clinging to Kojiro as they began to move to the other man’s room.
When he was lowered onto a bed, he let go, only to grab the hem of Kojiro’s vest to make sure that he didn’t leave. But Kojiro didn’t, simply sitting down on the edge of the bed and resting a comforting hand on Kaoru’s head. They stayed together in silence for several long moments, and then Kojiro began to hum softly. The familiar melody of a traditional lullaby wrapped around Kaoru, and he exhaled heavily as the tension finally began to leave his body. Kojiro’s singing wasn’t particularly good—there was a reason he was a bodyguard and not a performer—but it was good enough for Kaoru as his eyes drifted closed.
“Stay with me,” he mumbled. The humming didn’t pause, but the mattress sank beneath him as Kojiro climbed in next to him, wrapping his arms around Kaoru. Together, the warmth, the singing, and the vibrations of the broad, comfortable chest reassured the dancer that he was safe. And slowly, he began to fall asleep.
#sk8#sk8 the infinity#skate the infinity#fan fic#fanfic#sk8 cherry blossom#sk8 cherry#sakurayashiki kaoru#kaoru sakurayashiki#sk8 joe#nanjo kojiro#kojiro nanjo#mine
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MUN DARE TIME! Draw yourself dressed up as one of your favourite/main characters from game, only if you want to though! Have a nice day! uwu
#its me the mun#im not tagging aesop alkjdhflkahfjlsdahf#its quarantine and my house is perpetually at 34 degrees#so catch me slow cooking in my room as i draw akjfhlhdfashlas#aesop is my fav and my main yeeeee#tbh i would have mained like lucky if he wasnt so whiny#i just need a character that doesnt have any significant debuffs#and doesnt whine like that ajhflkshda#the coffin is a plus i guess XD its not like ill get to use it every match#though there are lots of matches i wished i had put down my own coffin at the start lakjdhflsdhflasf#anyway i made my shorts look a lot longer than they actually are#and they also have a hella ugly pattern on it that my mom loves for some reason#just for aesop cos i feel sorry he has to change out of his pretty damn sweet uniform into...... my tropical sauna wear HAHAHAHAHAHAH#i think if i drew in the pattern he would come after me and murder me in my sleep lsajhdlkshal
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19+The Feast of Scared Hearts- Yuta Nakamoto X Fem Reader 19+
L14R <-AO3 account
Requests:
Normal: https://blue-broken-heart.tumblr.com/ask
Anon: https://blue-broken-heart.tumblr.com/submit
Summary:
Yuta is a well loved priest in the village with a dark secret. You are a nun who notices the pattern of him leaving and coming back late at night...content to find out why without asking, he always seems to walk you back to your quarters.
Notes:
WARNING: Religious content used to set the scene! Religion is not being forced or pushed onto the reader. !IT IS SIMPLY A SCENARIO! The choice of religious beliefs fall to the reader.
TW: Blood drinking, Sexual Content, Murder, Heart eating, forest sex? Angst, Cursing
think this Yuta
Serial Killer Priest Yuta x Nun reader
!This Is A Work Of Fiction!
!This Is A Work Of Fiction!
!This Is A Work Of Fiction!
!This Is A Work Of Fiction!
The air grows cool and dark, The Rhine flows calmly on; the mountain summit sparkles in the light of the setting sun. Paris was beautiful as she looked down. The city’s glittering lights as soldiers marched patrolling the streets for any remaining traces of the prior opioid dealings.
A few days later, the assembly transferred the seat of government from Bordeaux to Versailles. Immediately after, it was confronted by a major civil war—the rebellion of the Commune of Paris. The event was complex in its entirety which drew fog around it by the myths that stemmed from.
The church held its place on a high mountain away from the chaos of the ground. Nestled in a branch of the towering butte montmartre. It’s name coined the mountain of the Martyr quite some months after he died.
A young novitiate, unable to sleep, was thinking about him, she roamed the church grounds anxiously. Hiding behind a stone wall as she caught sight of him sneaking back onto the compound. A well like priest, all because his presence felt like that of an angel. Gracing everyone with his all to humble presence.
He scurried in against the cold winds biting at his skin, tinting it with an ever so slight crimson. How odd. His dark brown hair shone under the moon matted to his head. He wasn’t in his robes. Where’d he go?
To meet his rumoured lover? Of course rumours about this man climbing the mountain flew around like wildfire but no-one dared to ask. He often snuck out at night dressed like a man of the world and came back in the wee hours before the sun kissed the earth. He was a mystery to many in the church.
She panicked looking back and not seeing him. Did he slip? Did he see her? Standing out of her hiding spot she looked around worried. She really didn’t want to be a witness to a crime. No matter how accidental it may have been.
“ Pleasure to see you under this night’s gallant moon sister ,” A voice kissed her ear. She almost screamed, grabbing at her rosary as the larger hand of the silent figure drew her mute. Looking back at the figure of Yuta Nakamoto.
“F-father,” She let out a heavy breath of air. Glancing at his high banded trousers and loosened waist coat. His delicately embroidered shirt undone a few too many buttons to be called modest. His skin piqued her interest. Little red stains perhaps?
Watching shyly as he adjusted his shirt to cover his chest. She cleared her throat to break the atmosphere, “Where have you been? It’s awfully cold out.”
“In dark ages, people are best guided by religion, as in a pitch black night a blind man is the best guide; he knows the roads and paths better than a man who can see.” Yuta spoke, his shirt buttoned again. Totally throwing her curiosity off with his words.
“I- Yes that is true,” She smiled, “Glory be to God in the highest.”
“Would you accompany me inside, Sister?” Yuta asked. That oh so warm voice coaxing the sleep to her eyes, dragging a yawn from her lips. He laughed lightly. The melodious sound drew parallels to the triumphs of holy beings rejoicing the miracle of a long silent God.
“If you’ll have me father,” She smiled. An eerie chill caressing her neck as she took a small stride at his side. A heavy waft of alcohol hitting her and a metallic smell that was all too familiar once a month.
“Something on your mind?” Yuta asked. He was too pleasant….perfect almost.
“Sleep….sleep is good,” She stifled another yawn,
“Death is better; but of course the best would have been to never been born at all.” Yuta coo’ed a dark sense in his voice as he spoke just below a whisper for her to hear alone.
“How- how could you say that?” She gasped, hitting his arm, “A life…a soul is a gift directly from the heavens!” A wet substance on her palm as Yuta flinched at the contact.
“It was but a thought, Sister,” Yuta laughed, stopping beside the door to her quarters, “Enjoy your rest now sister, you wouldn’t want anything to go bump in the night.”
“Nothing can harm me, I’m protected under the blood of the lamb,” She said softly. It was odd how he lingered a little longer at her door. Why?
Maybe to make sure she’d settled but why would he? He was neither a lover…nor family.
“G-Good Night father!” She called from beside the closed door. It wooden body shielding her from the piercing gaze the chilled her.
“Good Night,” He replied, still too close for her liking. Waiting for his footsteps against the cobbler floor to dissolve into the air, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Lifting a hand to her forehead to brush away some stray hairs…
Blood freezing as she looked back to the wet chill on her palm. A dark almost black liquid reflected the flickering of the oil lamp by her bedside. She wasn’t hurt. Wher- Yuta’s arm.
Maybe he really did go out to see his lover. She thought of wiping off her hand and dropping onto the simple stone slab. To wine and dine the person who he tried to defy authority to be with?
Yuta’s nightly expeditions were a mystery, but even more so his life. Only you could tell that he didn’t want to be here. To others he seemed made for this life. He was perfect.
__________________________________________
She didn’t see him again for a few days. Small glimpses at mass and meeting some people after. That is until while weeding the front yard with some others she ended up alone at the back of the church. An area where not many went to as it was dark and gloomy.
Straying from their talks of missing persons and the idle idea of a planned killer. The meaningless talk drew nothing but small laughs and little prayer for protection. Many of the ‘missing’ people must have ran off to find a better life or even been at home and became subject of such brutal rumours, the well fed would construct to drag others down.
Yet when she couldn’t sleep she’d carefully tread the fluff grass and jagged stones to sit under a shaded tree. The gorgeous view gave at an overlook of the country below them.
“Why do I keep feeling this..thinking about him?” She spoke softly at the chill in her stomach, an icky feeling. The odd chill she hated as she sat down. Idly ppucking the tall blades of weeds from the lush ground.
___________________________________________________________
Hidden behind a small shed that was so old even for her to venture into it. Gazing at the flowers, its small white petals swaying in the breeze was a dream. She lost track of time.
“Silence is an essential condition to happiness with you, I presume?” That voice again. It had her shivering as he spoke.
“Father? Pleasure running into you,” She lied through gritted teeth. Dropping the little daisy she's been holding, “Why are you out here?”
“I could ask the same of you, Sister____+” He smiled, dropping to sit near to her. Toned legs peeking out clothed in black garments.
“Weeding the yard,” She said, shifting a bit away. As he leaned back basking in the sun’s rays. Her eyes hit his arms immediately. He wasn’t injured. Why’d it have been covered in blood.
“A little too behind on that aren’t you?” He said, tilting his head to her. Looking through his fluttered lashes, “But I don’t mind.”
“Should you be leaning on your injury, Father?” She asked. Curious to hear his lie.
“Injury? I’m not-” Yuta cut himself short looking at her.
“Aren’t you though…father…the amount on my hand that night wasn’t light,” She prodded. What was his secret
“Would you really like to know?” Yuta asked, sitting up. Facing the nervous nun at his side.
“Yes, father,” She nodded. Heart pounding against her ribs, no one dared to ask him this…yet he was willing to tell her…this is strange...extremely strange.
“First you have to tell me why you keep showing up in front of me at night,” Yuta asked. He sounded as though he were joking but she could tell it was a weighted question.
“I can’t sleep at night…extra ‘energy’ as they call it.” She said, squeezing her hand under her thigh. Why’d she say it like that?
“I guess you’d need somewhere to burn it out?” He spoke smoothly. Unusually he’d never spoken like that before.
“Yeah…but I already do so much I can…guess I’ll have to figure it out,” She muttered. Yuta’s hand placed itself on her upper thigh. Wide eyed, she looked up at him.
“I can help,” Yuta muttered taking her hand to her thigh, “If you’d let me show you.”
“D-do I have a choice?” She asked, afraid of him being so close yet curious to know where it’d go.
“You always have a choice,” Yuta said leaning to her ear to whisper, “And this one is to experience heaven.”
Sweet May hath come to love us, Flowers and trees in their blossoms don; And through the blue heavens above us. The very clouds move on.
The chill leaves tumble, Frost kissing warm skin, A heated Hell’s called below’s rumble, Tantalized with sin.
“I-,” she quickly silenced herself as his other hand moved up her skirt. Kneeling in front of her pushing her to lean on the tree as he spread her legs, “What are you-Father you can’t-”
“Shhh~” Yuta mused a dark look overtaking his rich eyes. His brown eyes looked black under the sun as he looked down on her, “Give me your trust.”
“Mmmh,” She nodded, watching as the priest slipped his finger on the waistband of her panty. The high waisted fabric took less time than expected to slide down her legs. Exposing her to the nipping wind.
“S-stop,” She mumbled, somehow liking the feeling. Looking at the dark priest as he licked his lips.
“Do you always get like this around me?” He asked, brushing her lightly with his fingers. Watching as she quivered under his touch, wet pulsing out of her.
“N-no…I don’t l-” She stuttered, as his fingers grazed past her folds, pushing into her cunt, “S-sssss,”
“Don’t worry, Sister,” Yuta moved closer, lifting her legs over his, revealing a glinting hilt under his robe, strapped to his thigh.
She couldn’t ask him about it as his fingers circled her, slowly as his arm flexed as she turned, her stomach twitched along with her breath becoming laboured.
“I-Father stop please,” She begged tears prickling at her eyes as she lashed out at him. Striking him around his eyebrow. Her nails tearing open his skin as she did.
He forced her to the ground, towering above her as blood trickled down his face, “Why?” He mused. Leaning to her ear. Kissing small trails over her jaw.
“It hurts- a-and I’m- I don’t like….(you),” Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Instead moving her hand down to where he’d been touching, feeling the slick on her fingers, “This is how you make me feel?”
Reaching up and dragging him into a kiss, his blood tinged lips tasted sweet as his hands shuffled around his hips. Lips moulding against hers in a rushed passion. A temporary moment of ecstasy as she moaned against him.
“I’m p-putting it in,” Yuta said abruptly as she jolted at the feeling of a throbbing heat between her legs.
“What?” She looked down to see Yuta’s cock braced against her cunt. Slowly rubbing against her, “Good gods, that sends fire on my skin.”
“Really?” Yuta muttered as he helped her adjust her hips against his, “ It’ll feel even better when you’re dea -done-”
“What?” Her eyes flew open, hands moving to his thigh where the blade was hidden. Instead clutching his robe when her body flew up. A hot long cock thrusted into her.
“Hell you feel good,” Yuta moaned into her ear. As she gripped his habit until her knuckles turned white. He panted into her ear kissing her shoulder, as he moved.
“ Fucking good, take it like it yours, ” He moaned catching her off guard, “ Covered in my blood-fuck, ”
“What?!” She said a small scream as he dug into her thigh.
“ I said ,” He looked down at her, her wimple slipping off her hair as she braced against the floor, “ You look even better covered in blood .”
“Th-that’s not allowed,” She breathed, grabbing to hold her wimple from falling off. Gaining a small dizziness from him turning her to sit on his lap.
“ Would you like to see it? ” He panted as her hips found the rhythm. Bouncing on him as he bit down on his lip, hands reaching for his buttons.
“W-why- are you taking that off?” She moaned, the cold wind blowing hard against her ear. Uncaring as their bodies kept them warm with the other. Eyes widening as he took the beautiful sacrificial blade from his thigh, grabbing her hand, “D-dOn’t!”
“ Shhhh ,” He scowled, squeezing her wrist as he drew the blade against it. Dragging the pretty shade of lust from her forearm. Immediately stopping riding him she clutched her arm.
“What did you do!?” She yelled, voice lost to the wind. Watching as he broke her clutch and bore her arm aside, “Stop IT!”
Heart stopping as his lips drew against the wound. Saliva stinging as he licked up the small slit. Moaning as his lips and jaw were painted in life. Something about the hot, mysterious priest under her, lapping up blood from her arm was erotic. She felt her body tense, and Yuta groaned out, “ Do it again~ ”
Sucking blood from her arm as his other hand rubbed her waist. Thrusting into her roughly as he came close.
“ Look at me~ ” Yuta panted, moving his hand from her waist to her jaw. Clutching her attention onto him, “ Look at me while I full that tight c*nt with me. ”
Whimpering under his rough clutch, fingernails digging into her face as he broke, pushing deep into her. As she arched unknowingly clenching him as he relieved himself.
Full lips parting under the overhead bright sun, as its rays kissed their skin through the tree's leaves. Her heart was tight…afraid of what she’d just done. Breath ragged from the desire to feel that again. Mind muddled from trying to unie how her little questions lead to this sin.
“F-father?” She heaved, head dropped against his chest as he went limp, “W-why-when again?”
“ Again? ” Yuta laughed, “ You’re fucking nasty for a woman married to God. ”
“I-,” She moaned out. Unable to process this side of him. Was this why he left the church at night? To meet his lover? Or maybe prostitutes?
“ And here you are outside his house fucking riding one of his servants taking my cock like a painted whore ,” Yuta cursed the blade in his hand drawing up your thigh, and stomach as he spoke, “ Making me your first? Giving me your life. ”
“I-Wait!” She yelled again as his hands wrapped itself in her hair, tugging it back as his blade pressed into her throat, “Don’t kill me please~”
“ Why’d you think I’d kill you? ” Yuta asked, tapping the blade against her neck. A cold smile on his lips, “ Maybe I want to keep you in fear? Tittering around me during the day then eating my cock at night to get rid of the ‘extra energy?’ you called it? ”
“W-who are you!” She screamed against him. Feeling the urge to kiss his sweat ridden olive skin.
“Ah-ah-ah,” Yuta tutted, “ No so loud. You don’t want your holy mother to come out and see you like this, do you? ”
“Mmmf~” She hung her head as he rolled his hips in her, dick rubbing a little sweet spot, “I-I know that you go out every night and come back drenched in blood….who’s?”
“ You want to know? ” Yuta asked as the petrified nun planted her foot flat between his arms. Bouncing on his cock as she struggled to hold her skirt back. Her cheeks were flushed, as tears leaked down her face, “ You really want to know? ”
She nodded, pushing his knife away, dragging his hand to her wet pussy again, “Later.”
“Later?” Yuta grunted pulling her head back more as he rubbed her clit. Watching as she coated him in her arousal. Almost sucking him back into her velvety walls to mark her. To claim her…to satisfy her.
“Mmmmh,” She moaned, “F-fas-faster.”
“ Like this ?” Yuta asked, turning his forearm to the sky, flicking the woman, hard with his unkempt nails, “ want to feel me deep inside you…Want me to fill you and cum deep .”
So disarrayed she couldn’t respond, until he hit her, “ I asked you a fucking question. Answer.”
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Now I want more now~” She screamed into the air as he used a heavy hit against her arousal. Bloodied arm moving to cover it in shock.
“Fuck Yeah–like that…you wanna cum on my cock? You wanna fuck me through your blood and cum don’t you? Fucking nasty freak~ ” Yuta moaned letting her hair go to rub the blood into her.
Watching as their pelvises quickly turned red, mixing with his spilling seed and her slick as it slapped between them. As he caught sight of her riding him as she coated him in a heavy cream. Grabbing his hair back and clenching tight as milked his cum from him.
Oh! how they loved dearly; their souls kissed, they kissed with their eyes, they were both but one single kiss.
Habit dropping as she kept her head tilted panting for air frozen in time.
“Ahhh fuck,” Yuta groaned harshly pushing her off him, “Look at the fucking mess you made.”
“I-I wasn’t alone in that,” She panted, the side of her face pressed into the grass, laying flat, and feeling bruised.
“ And you feel proud enough to speak back to me? ” Yuta growled almost, stretching his hips and back a little.
“You felt sure enough to take me in the open,” She snapped back, “I’m sorry.” She said realizing she wasn’t keeping her temper in check.
“Oh?” Yuta mused, the harsh look on his face strangled and he bent over and sized her jaw. Forcing her to stand on shaky legs, “Why did you end up in the church?”
“It was my fathers choice, to keep me from the hand of men like you,” She scowled.
“What a horrid choice,” He smirked, “Now ____+, You’re mine.”
“Never!” She struggled as he dragged her across to the old shed. The closer they got the more well kept it became. It wasn’t odd or run down….just over run by vining. Its high stone walls stood the weathering and held its dirty secret inside well hidden and ventilated.
Pushing open the door with his back, Yuta shoved her into the room. Watching as she stumbled on the uneven earth floor that drank the blood of many sinners. Gaining her footing as she grasped a stone ledge of a sacrificial altar looking up to the foul smell right in front of her.
The familiar face with his wrists slit and bleeding into buckets at its sides. Mouth bound and gagged, his eyes pried out and hollowed with burns that showed a struggle. Screaming as she pushed back. Falling into the arms of the priest.
Struggling in the arms of the assaulter, warning bells cast the shadow of death of temptation onto the trembling sinner; fear of God falling out of her mouth, so vast that she chose to hide. Burying her face in his chest. Disdain for her curious nature as she began crying.
The weather-cock on the church spire, though made of iron, would soon be broken by the impending storms-wind if it did not understand its noble art of turning. Similar to _____+ in this moment, her heart resembled an ocean; has storm, and ebb and flow; with many a beautiful pearls lies hid in depths below.
The tear of the ocean Yuta found was brightly shining and salted with fear. As he coo’ed into her ear, “Don’t worry, Sister____+. It’s okay.”
Those constant words over and over…so commonplace for him to say, yet the dark meaning he’d hidden.
“H-how many?” She stumbled out.
“Depends, how many do you know of?” Yuta said, releasing her, gracefully moving into the room to retrieve a flesh bound book, its pages hastily bound and written on.
“Why?” The only question she could think of.
“To cleanse our world. Did you know? So many of those ‘perfect beings’ are broken, flawed and cruel. They were made in the most high’s image and likeness…yet they run around starting wars and killing each other because of what? Greed? Love? Money?” Yuta spoke, getting angrier as he dictated his feelings, “Sister it’s just-nothing. I couldn’t just let them be. As a man of God I had to create his perfect world. I had to become the cleanser of this world.”
“You can’t t-that’s what makes us -perfect- w-we grow and a-ade-adapt to adversaries,” She struggled. His words made too much sense to her, his reasoning was so unflawed, so logical. This was the shocking thing.
Yuta was often so poignant to resolve ones distress, for all his energy in life was something turned out to be hellish and inorganic. The most shocking of all was this slime of the pit that seemed to be a little piece of hell right here on earth behind the church, hidden away in the mountain. Standing in there as Yuta spoke the nun felt as though she could hear the cries of desperation from the amorphous dust gesticulating and sinned; of that who is dead.
Had no shape and held insurgent horror to knit the nun closer to this twisted priest…to keep her closer than a wife…closer than an eye… closer than his soul, Or part thereof.
____________________________________________________________________________
He’d keep her prisoner in her own, caged in her flesh, where he felt her deep, and muttered her desire struggling against him to give life to her lust. She’d feel his gaze at every hour of strength or weakness, in the bosom of slumber and she would sink her head to him, giving her life to him at every beck and call. Knowing how he'd sunk his dentals into the dripping organ that pumped a lowly sinner life. Claiming it divine. Claiming it to be the will of the Gods. Bathed in red soo after. Loving her in their life staining her skin crimson making her sink into the guilt that he should have, but didn't.
Her hatred born of him was different. It was born of terror of the gallows that he dwelled and drove him to madness. Drowned in the blood of sinners who’d confide in him during noon, fall for him in the evening and love him by night. The insatiable loathsome that bound him to earth was unparalleled at the time. As he’d sink his teeth into the unclean; woman or man, who’d threaded lightly on the word of his master. Relish in their blood and discard the perfect murders in a passionate cups, dragging his guilt into the arms of that curious nun.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
“Open up,” Yuta knocked at her window. Angry against the cold that bit at his wounds, “Fuck! Sister, open the fucking window!” Yuta shouted teeth chattering against the sudden flurries of snow that dropped from the sky.
Jolting awake she gasped below her pillow. He was back….who was it this time?
“I-I’m coming,” She stumbled, struggling to tie the nightgown around her waist as he banged on the window. Sure to be passed off by the others as the wind. Glancing back at the little blade hidden in her room....Would tonight be the night?
Swinging open the tightly locked wooden blockage, she grasped his hand as he climbed up into her room. Just like the last night she was curious about his late night expeditions, his embroidered shirt was undone to immodest depths. Waistcoat slack, and pants clinging to his skin.
“Get in quickly,” She complained, reaching down for his bag, as Yuta’s teeth chatter behind her, the cobbler floor providing no heat. Shutting the window quickly, blowing into her hands trying to warm them up. As she looked at Yuta shivering.
The distaste for him was strong but she couldn’t sink to his level. Lighting her oil lamp and moving to heat water for him, “Do you always have to swear at me?”
“I-i-I was panicking,” He shivered moving closer to her. Where it was warm.
“Don’t touch me!” She pulled away from him, “I can’t get blood on this gown.”
“P-P-please?” He said lips almost blue. Stirring her heart, the tall man was nothing to her but alast still human.
“Strip,” She said undoing his shirt, causing a large grin to break out.
“Never thought you’d be giving me orders,” He giggled. Moving him to sit on a little stool. She knelt next to him, dipping a cloth into the pot of warm water.
“Never,” She whispered, wringing it before wiping his skin, “Never.”
“What would I do without you on nights like this?” He mused, locking her into a short kiss. As she pulled back to clean the cloth.
“Die,” She replied blankly. Yuta laughed. Humming quietly as he let her work.
__________________________________________________________________________________
“You know…a few months back I’d never guessed the little peeping nun would be holding me like this,” Yuta mused, listening to her heartbeat, cuddled into her.
“Peeping? I’ve never peeped at you,” She frowned. She hated him so much now, but at the moment she was thankful for his body heat. It was the coldest night of the year or so it was projected.
“Did you really think I didn’t see you hiding behind the west side pillar all those nights?” he teased, running his hand down her body and up again.
“I didn’t hide from you…I was- I panicked okay?” She scoffed, “You were perfect, you were light walking in the church, but you were shrouded in darkness….what was I supposed to do?”
“Were?” Yuta questioned.
“Are….I mean…It’s cold,” She changed the topic. Moving to hug him. Wrapping her legs around his waist for him to lay flat, “The bed is small…and I’m cold…you’re warm…and I just want to sleep.”
“Mmmmh,” He nodded, pulling the animal skin blanket over the both of you, “Hey what happen if they find out about us?”
“What about us?” She muttered.
“If I don’t get up in time and someone comes in and sees us like this?” Yuta mused, his voice hushed and resonating in his chest. Referring to the person on duty who would make sure everyone was breathing, well it was more of a wake up call since the cold weather made everyone need more sleep.
“I don’t know, they’ll put me in a chilace? Maybe burn me at a stake? Stone me in the town centre?” She listed the normal way for women to be punished, “I am laying with an unmarried man…and he isn’t going to wed me.”
“Hmm,” Yuta nodded, “Can you handle that?”
“I don’t know….I’d be bleeding everywhere visible, crying cause it’ll hurt… I’d be turned away from home…the church…maybe have to flee the country if I make it that far.” She said, clinging closer to him.
“Fuck,” Yuta muttered holding his breath. It didn’t work…she felt the strain against his trousers, below his stomach as she moved to sit up.
“Really?”
“Not my fault an unwedded woman is rubbing me so tightly,” He smirked, running his hands on her waist, “Just a little?”
“Of course,” She smiled down at him. Pulling him to sit up as she kissed him. Hands training down his frim chest, strong waist and finally to his buckled hips, “Move back,” She breathed against his lips.
“I’m on the wall,” Yuta muttered, keeping his voice down.
Watching as she pushed the blanket to the floor and sat below his thighs, undoing the tie of her night gown. Exposing her naked body to him, “Are you sure? It’s really cold out…?"
“Shut up,” She muttered, leaning forward to kiss his tip. A heavy salt taste staining her tongue as she teased him until he was leaking, “ready?”
“Yeah,” Yuta moaned, “it’s nice for you to take the lead.”
“Well, it’s nice to be able to,” She smirked, mounting him, “Slow.”
“Fuck-” Yuta moaned as she moved lightly. Up and down feeling every bit of him, “How are you always so fucking t-tight?”
“Mmmnn,” She shrugged biting her lips as Yuta’s breath got heavier, “Can I ask about the lover who got you sent here?”
“What about him?” Yuta moaned, biting his inner cheek.
“W-who was he?” She asked, “From what you’ve told me…you were from a wealthy family…so who?”
“DongHyuk Yi’s husband,” Yuta moaned.
“The Yi family? You crossed the Yi family? Aren’t they all dea-Ohhh~” She moaned, reaziling as she hit her spot.
“Right therE?” Yuta asked, as she settled for a moment, thrusting into her, “Here you are sweetheart,”
“Gods~ Don’t~” She moaned biting the back of her hand, taking back control form him, “Just relax~”
“Yeah the Yi family, TaeYong,HaeChan, Jeno, the whole lot of them and their spouses didn’t like that Mark loved me.” Yuta muttered, “So the fiancée they wanted…DongHyuk, pulled some strings and jailed here.”
“H-how did you even end up with him?” She moaned, “Mark was known for hiding from everyone outside of his family.”
“I was in the family,” Yuta moaned, “Families very close.”
“By the Gods I hate them for doing this to you,” She shuddered, not expecting him to ask.
“Who was the man your father wanted to keep you from then?” Yuta moaned, leaning on his elbows to watch.
“Marquis Jay? Jung,” She moaned, “He wanted my hand at the cost of my family’s.”
Yuta's hand snaked around her throat squeezing it as she jumped, “Don’t fucking moan another mans’ name when you're riding me.”
“A-air,” She squeaked against his hold. Eyes rolling back as he came, “Ohh~”
His grip tightened throughout the ordeal, “H-hey, t-Yuta.”
Coming to his senses he let go, “I can understand why he’d want you.” Yuta muttered, breathing heavily and she came off.
Yuta’s skin was always suspiciously soft and blemish free, despite the cuts and marks you saw.
“If we weren’t sold to the church….just maybe…if I met you first…just maybe…I’d have wedded you.” Yuta mumbled out, sitting on the bed waiting for her to come back.
...........
I understand if you wanna yell at me after reading this....I'll take a scenario or request to make up for it <3
Requests:
Normal: https://blue-broken-heart.tumblr.com/ask
Anon: https://blue-broken-heart.tumblr.com/submit
#yuta scenarios#yuta nakamoto#yuta nct#yuta nakamoto smut#nct smut#smut#religious themes#serial killer#Serial killer priest Yuta au#yuta x y/n#yuta x you#yuta x reader
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I'm sorry if I already requested this of you I honestly have the memory of a walnut. But can I request headcannons of the boys + dia who find out MC has an emotionally abusive husband? Like fluff with some murder maybe?
thank you
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Additional Tags: abusive relationship mentioned, some are a bit murdery, I don't know how to write fluff for such a situation but I tried
A/N: If you are in an abusive situation in the USA and need to speak to someone, please call 1-800-799-7233. If you cannot call, you can also text “START” to 88788. If it is safe for you, you can also go to the website directly. Abuse takes many forms, but it is always about control.
Feel free to add the numbers/contact for other countries if you have them.
Lucifer
He got upset at MC once and they flinched when he yelled and they started apologizing like there was no tomorrow. That was how he found out something was wrong. They wouldn’t say anything, but he could tell that something was deeply wrong. Perhaps he had never noticed before the formation of their pact how MC shuddered around him whenever he got upset, but now he did.
He is very careful not to yell again and when he does he is quick to lower his voice the second MC shows distress, reassuring them that he is not angry at them and would not harm them. It sounds almost hollow after how he acted when they originally met, but he means it.
There was one time MC dropped a dish on the floor while cooking and it broke, spilling hot food everywhere. They started picking up the pieces in a hurry, not even paying attention to how the hot shards burned and cut up their hands.
Lucifer was quick to pick them up off the ground and tend to the fresh injuries, all while they kept apologizing and saying that they would clean it up as soon as they could and saying they would make something else. Lucifer forbade them from doing either and cleaned the mess himself. He did that a lot. Took care of their ‘mistakes’ and cared for them. They would almost believe he wasn't the same terrifying man they had first met.
It takes a long time for MC to get used to their new relationship with Lucifer and once they do they are far more comfortable and less skittish.
He is not pressuring the story out of them. He can wait, as difficult as it is, for them to open up. However, he is no fool. He knows who is to blame, and that man should be very afraid should Lucifer and he ever meet.
Mammon
MC always spoke so well of their husband when they first met the brothers. Mammon was actually jealous and wished MC would talk about him that way. They would always say how kind their husband was and how he loved them and how he wanted the best for them. It sounded like some kind of cheesy romance novel.
Things started to get weird though when he and MC started to get even closer. He would invite them out, only to hear “I don’t think my husband would like that” or “I shouldn’t be alone with you”. It was weird the first time, but it quickly became a pattern. A very worrying pattern. Mammon knew abuse when he saw it. He was the family butt monkey and a witch punching bag, after all.
The difference is that he’s a fallen angel that is used to such treatment and, as a demon, the things done to him do very little in the long run. Humans are far more fragile though; their minds, bodies, and hearts. And then Mammon started to hate MC’s husband with a passion that could not be matched.
He cared less about making that bastard pay and more about taking care of MC. Such treatment can ruin a person, especially good people like MC. He would do anything to show them that they deserved better than that man, whatever that eventually meant.
Leviathan
He and MC have a little too much in common for his taste. It is actually almost disgusting how little self-worth they seem to have, but he can also see how that was trained into them.
They play down their worth a lot: “It’s nothing”, “It could be better”, “I failed again”, etc. They never say anything positive about themself. They are really good at picking out their flaws, but almost incapable of pointing out their merits.
It goes against everything Levi believes in, but he has to start praising them since they won’t praise themself. He likes hanging out with them, the stuff they make is nice, they are a really quick learner. It feels weird to praise someone, but it’s nice to see MC start to feel a little better about all the things they do.
Although, he also has the mild thought of showing MC’s husband that there are more terrifying things in the world than the horrors a human is capable of. After all, Levi has seen the monsters that dwell in the deep; he is one of those monsters and there is a reason humans fear the darkest depths.
Satan
There are some wonderful upsides to being the avatar of wrath. Normally, Satan wouldn't be so crass as to give into them, but sometimes humanity is just so vile that he can't help himself.
One of those upsides is a mind filled to the brim with the instinctual desire to rip and tear anything he can get his hands on to pieces. It's an instinct he fights off constantly with his centuries of training and self-discovery, but just this once he doesn't mind becoming the beast he was born as.
MC's husband squeals like a stuck pig throughout the entire night, only the winds, spiders, and Satan being able to hear and appreciate the sound. And appreciate it he does, until the screaming stops and his hands are drenched with blood.
He really needs to get himself cleaned off before he sees MC again, otherwise they will be terrified. He needs to look his best when they come running to him worried about their missing husband. It’s sad how much they worry about him despite everything.
Asmodeus
MC was always so calm and docile when he wanted to spend time with them. He didn’t really get it at first but it was easier to dress them up and take them out, so he didn’t question it. At least, not until someone (read: Solomon) not so subtly pointed out that it is unusual for someone to be so passive, almost to the point of being doll-like.
Asmo didn’t believe it at first. How could anyone treat someone as sweet as MC so cruelly, especially someone that is supposed to love them? But from that day onward, his eyes were opened up and he started to notice things.
The way they didn’t put forth their own opinions and let him take the lead on everything, how they stuck close to him when they both went out, the subtle way their fingers reached out then drew back when they liked something.
“Do you like it?” He would ask and their response was “do you?”
It was so difficult to get them to start putting their own wants and desires above what they thought he’d like. When they showed interest in something, he would fawn all over it. If they liked something, he liked it too. He would buy them things they even glanced casually at, told them they were worthwhile and lovely, anything that other man would never say to them.
He tore them down so completely, but Asmo would work tirelessly to build them back up.
Beelzebub
He is the softest man in the world, and sometimes MC just lets things slip out. He’s very easy to open up to and they don’t think about what they say. He was the first person that they opened up to about what was happening to them.
Suffice it to say, Beel was shocked when they mentioned how terrified they were for the exchange program to end. Despite everything that they had been through over the past year, they didn’t want to go back.
Beel had only felt so powerless one other time in his life. He couldn’t go with them to protect them and they couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever to stay safe. It was painfully cruel just how much he couldn’t help them.
All he could do was hold them and listen to them get everything off of their chest, dreading the day that the exchange program would end.
MC has to hurry up and learn how to summon him, because he wants to keep them safe from that awful situation. He would never allow another person it the world to hurt them again.
Belphegor
Belphie likes exactly one human in the three realms and every other one is none of his concern. Or, they wouldn’t be his concern if it weren’t for the fact that the one human he cared about was the victim of this particular instance.
He’s not like some of his other brothers. He doesn’t do comfort and he isn’t the best at torture, prefering to get everything over with quickly so he doesn’t have to expend all the extra energy. But, for such a special occasion, he is more than willing to put in the effort.
Humans really do create their own worst fears. Their minds run a mile a minute and they have the strangest way of finding how their own terrors can overpower what little defenses they have.
He may not be able to touch MC’s husband, but he can certainly return every slight against his favorite human. Long, sleepless nights wracked with unending horrors that only that man can truly appreciate.
All the while, he will gladly hold MC when their own nightmares overtake them, trying to put their mind at ease for just this moment. How he wished that his powers could control the waking world as well as their dreams...
Diavolo
“Don’t go back.” It was the first time Diavolo had brought up the idea. It was one he had been considering for a long time, knowing that it was extreme given that MC was a human and had to live in the human realm. However, he couldn’t live with himself knowing the kind of life MC would return to once they left.
The shouting, the insults, discarding everything MC liked because their husband doesn’t care for it… Diavolo would never feel right knowing he sent someone dear to him back there.
He had the means to help them get literally anywhere but back to that man. Diavolo could help set them free from that life, even if they didn’t want to stay in the Devildom. He knew MC would have the support of everyone they had met.
All they had to do was say yes and he would move the Devildom itself to get them out of there.
#obey me#dark fic#mine#request#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor#swd obey me#obey me swd#obey me shall we date#headcanon#obey me headcanons
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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.”
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Confession (Colin x Fem!Reader)
a/n - I don’t know if Colin is only involved in missing person/murder cases but I decided to go arson instead because murder seemed way too serious for this scenario. Also, I’m not a lawyer, I have no clue what I’m talking about but we move
wordcount: 2.7k
warnings: NSFW, kinda dom Colin (putting this as a warning bc I know some of you don’t like that), fingering, mentions of arson
Colin’s eyes were dark and unwavering as he pinned them on you, his thumbs tucked into the waistband of his work pants as he lounged against the back of his chair, his eyebrows slightly cocked and mouth a thin line. A portrait of increasing irritation. Your own head cocked slightly, waiting for him to repeat his question for the twentieth time in an hour. Sighing, he pulled his hands away from his waist, shifting to straighten on his chair as he leant forwards, levelling an utterly unamused look at you.
His patience was wearing thin. Good.
A small smile curved the corners of your mouth upwards as your chin raised slightly, Colin’s eyes flashing in agitation at your increasingly insufferable attitude.
“I’m only going to ask you this one more time: where were you on the night of October 10th?”
“At home.” You responded easily, the same answer you had given him with each reiteration of the question.
His jaw clenched at your unrelenting impassivity, the muscles within feathering. He braced his elbows on the surface of the cold metal table between you, leaning forwards, his eyes never once leaving yours.
You bit back your amusement, leaning in slightly to meet him in mocking interest, your arrogance spilling onto the metal before you, pooling about the detective’s elbows, dripping from the table onto the concrete floor.
“Let me repeat this once more,” he began, his tone dropping and becoming somewhat condensing, as if you were a child incapable of grasping the concept of the situation.
“Several witnesses came forward and gave both your name and general description on the night of 10th, only several minutes after officials suspect that the fire was started.” Your amusement was momentarily doused as the image of the fire that you had ignited flashed, the memory of the pure ecstasy and sense of completion that had filled you the second you dropped the match onto the gasoline-coated floor of the large, abandoned building.
Pulling your attention back to the man before you, you merely shrugged, leaning back in your chair and bringing a hand up to your face, examining your carefully manicured nails. “It was dark, detective. They could’ve seen anyone. As I’ve already explained multiple times, I was at home, not fucking around setting buildings on fire.”
The lies came too easily to you. Colin seemed to be thinking the same thing as he tipped his head back to the brightly illuminated ceiling and let out a truly exasperated sigh. You quietly scoffed, folding your hands together in your lap and gazing at him with feigned innocence, allowing a patient demeanor to slip over you.
“You’re enjoying this far too much. This is serious, y/n.” He gritted out as he lowered his eyes back to yours. The small smile of indifference painted on your face as he surveyed you once more served as your second act of arson, fuelling his growing anger.
He knew it was you.
You knew he knew.
Your smile only grew.
“I know that you’re guilty.” He threw the words across the table at you, his voice low.
“If you’re so confident that it was me, why am I even here?” You pressed offhandedly, the front legs of your chair lifting off the floor as you pushed back on it. “Because I need a verbal confession.” Colin stated firmly.
“And you’re going to give me one.”
You couldn’t help the snort that bubbled out of you at his overly confident words, your eyes alight with flickering amusement. His own eyes flashed in warning.
“Of course you are. And how, exactly, do you plan on getting one from me?” You challenged, your chair falling fulling back to the floor with a dull thud. Colin’s eyes flicked down to the surface of the table, as if watching through the thick metal as you placed your feet back on the ground.
His own feet shifted beneath the table, his eyes lifting back to yours as his foot appeared on the edge of your chair between your slightly parted legs. You stiffened in confused alarm but kept your eyes trained on his as he slowly pressed his foot into your pussy, the pointed tip of his leather shoe spearing onto your clothed clit, too-sensitive even through the protection of your clothes.
A gasp ripped free from your throat at the sudden pressure, any amusement having fled from your features, now displayed proudly on Colin’s instead.
“What’re you-” the tip of his shoe twitched harshly against your covered core, the rest of your words dissipating into the suddenly tension-filled space between you.
“Talk me through your evening on the 10th.” He ordered, his eyes falling wholly dark as he tracked the movement of your lower lip catching between your teeth.
Your hands fell onto the arms of the chair you sat in, clenching tightly onto the cold metal as a spontaneous inner conflict took place within you.
Push him off or see where this goes.
This ‘interrogation’ had gone on for far too long, you were beginning to get bored. And so, you settled further into your chair, pressing yourself slightly further onto the tip of his shoe, an almost inaudible groan working its way out of you at the increased pressure.
“I’ve told you. I was at home.” He retracted his shoe ever so slightly before pressing it against you once more with even more persistence.
When he didn’t reply, his jaw working in annoyance, you sighed softly, not allowing any anxiety to worm its way into you as he put you on the spot, creating a vague alibi in a matter of seconds. You knew that stalling for a moment too long would only raise his suspicions.
“I came home from work at around five. I drove.” You added, reluctant to leave any room for further questioning, not as his shoe began to make small strokes up and down on your clothed cunt, dulling your vital concentration.
Your integrity lapsed at his increasing attention on your core, your legs parting more of their own accord.
“I, um, I showered for like fifteen minutes and then I went to make food.” The lie was weak; Colin’s mouth twitched, as if a smirk strained to formed on his thin lips. “You don’t live alone, do you?”
You swallowed but shook your head. “No. My roommates weren’t home.”
“Oh?” He uttered, urging you to present him with an explanation. You bit down on the inside of your cheek as he pressed the tip of his shoe against you even harder.
“They stayed at the college library to study.” Your tone wavered, your eyes flicking down to your shamelessly parted legs.
“Unfortunately, I spoke to two of your roommates earlier.” At his cruel contradiction, your eyes fluttered closed in defeat. “They were all home by four that night.”
His chair creaked as he leant forwards, your eyes flying open with a low groan as his foot was forced further against you. “What’s even more interesting, is that they didn’t see you at all that night.”
“What’s the point of this?” You muttered, lifting your gaze to his. “Why ask if you know I’m lying to you?”
“Because I need to hear you confess.” He answered simply, pushing back his chair and standing. Your hips rocked forwards slightly on your seat, trying to subconsciously chase after his foot as he stood. Watching closely as he slowly made his way around the table, small ribbons of nervousness finally began to unfurl within your gut, your unease growing as he reached you, coming to a halt beside the chair that you sunk further into beneath his scrutiny.
The hand that he snaked onto your shoulder was a warm weight and you took a steadying breath as his other fell onto your side, Colin taking a step behind your chair. Looking straight ahead, you didn’t dare shift so much as an inch as his hand slid from your shoulder to the crook of your neck, his fingers settling onto your skin. You resisted the urge to cross your legs, waiting for Colin’s next words, the hand at your side beginning to run softly up and down the length between your ribs and your hip. Your breathing hitched as he stooped down, his own breath hot on the side of your neck.
"What would happen if I was guilty? If I did confess?”
You chose the words carefully but your true intentions behind the cautious question was explicit: What happened when you confessed?
“Either I use the evidence I have against you in court and accuse you of being guilty. Or, you confess, and get a lesser sentence. Since no one was harmed and there were no malicious intentions, right now with no confession, you’re looking at a heavy fine and restitution.” Whilst he spoke lowly in your ear, his hand made a slow trail from your side to your abdomen and any information that he was providing you evaded your attention as all of your focus trained itself upon the hand that Colin was sliding lower and lower down your body.
He drew swirling patterns across your stomach with the tips of his fingers, dipping tantalisingly past your belly button before straying back up your torso once more. Your eyes dropped to watch the smooth movements of his fingertips.
A small part of your conscious scolded yourself for how wrong this was but the other, larger part sung with nervous excitement, willing his hand to fall even lower.
You were going to have to give him a confession at some point or another. He already knew you were guilty, what would be the harm in getting some fulfilment from it?
“But it’s ultimately not up to me. Just know that a confession will lighten the consequences.”
You merely nodded, your eyes never straying from the hand that leisurely explored the stretch of your stomach, Colin’s body a warm presence behind you, his hands roving closer and closer to where you ached for him, the sweet scent of your arousal filling the room. His lithe fingers made quick work of the buttons holding your pants together, your head falling back against his chest as he pressed his body further against the back of your chair.
He hummed lowly in approval as his fingers finally delved between your folds, gathering the wetness at your entrance and smearing it up to your clit. His fingers made tight, messy circles atop it as he spoke lowly in your ear:
“Let’s try one last time. Where were you on the night of October 10th?”
You took a sharp breath, Colin’s fingers straying from your sweet bundle of nerves to your opening, poised amongst the wetness gathered there as he awaited your answer.
“At home.” You whispered weakly, trying to lift your hips in an effort of bribing the finger that languidly circled your entrance. His fingers stopped moving entirely, drawing away from your cunt and simply resting in your pants. You groaned at his blatant denial.
“Okay. I left work early, around three, and went home to change -”
He plunged a single finger deep into you, coaxing a low groan from your throat. You turned your face into the warmth of his chest as he twisted that single finger inside of you, trying to organise your thoughts and remember your actions of that evening as he began to move his finger in and out.
“I was only home for about half an hour.” You whispered into the awaiting silence of the room as he slowly eased a second finger into your cunt, starting to pump them in a steady rhythm, the tips of his fingers curling to hit the spot within you that seemed to send shock waves throughout your entire body with each stroke of his rough fingertips against it, coaxing more information from you, using your own pleasure as a bribe.
"I drove to the property. There was no one there when I arrived so I waited.” You continued, voice accented with whiny need, the expert curling of Colin’s fingers within you as you opened up to him sending more wetness gathering around his long digits, a pleasant warm sensation spreading throughout your stomach.
“Why?” His voice was low in your ear and your eyes fluttered closed as his ministrations caused more pleasure to grow within your gut.
You let out a quiet moan as he inserted a third finger into you at your silence, wasting no time in establishing a steady fast pace, Colin fervent to pull the confession from you.
“Oh, shit.” You moaned out as his fingers thrusted relentlessly inside of you, seeming to reach deeper than you even thought was possible, his desperation to draw the condemning evidence from you apparent.
“Why?” He repeated, your confidence faltering as you realised that you had given him enough information and that now all he needed to hear was your reasoning to why.
“Why, y/n?” A drawn out groan floated from your parted lips, tugging your answer out behind it. “I was bored. I wanted people to see, I wanted them to talk about it.”
The heat within the pit of your stomach was fuelled with each stroke of his fingers and soon your legs were trembling and your toes were curling. The small triumphant smile displayed upon Colin’s face was evident in his tone as he asked you one final question, whispered lowly into your ear: “So you burnt the building down?”
Lifting your hips up slightly, you gripped onto the arm snaked around you body with both hands, trying to urge his fingers to go harder, deeper as your pleasure built and built, each thrust of his fingers ripping away a layer of the ball of ecstasy glowing in your gut, the orgasm hidden at its centre your only goal.
“Y/n.” Colin prompted quietly, your poorly suppressed groan almost drowning his voice out completely as your pleasure mounted, building quickly towards release. The groan turned from one of satisfaction to one of dismay as Colin suddenly withdrew his fingers from you entirely, your hips bucking up pathetically as he rested his hand within your pants. His message was clear: no confession, no orgasm.
“Yes!” You squeaked, your fingers tightening their grip on his arm, willing his fingers to resume their skilful exploration of your cunt.
“Yes. I burnt the building down.”
Colin plunged his fingers back into your awaiting entrance, victorious as you shrieked in alarm and pleasure, his digits filled you suddenly once more.
“Cum, y/n.” Colin encouraged lowly when he felt you clenching around him and he leant down further, his teeth latching onto the soft shell of your ear and biting down sharply. The slight pain pushed you over the edge and you came undone in his arms, your back arching off the back of the chair, your head pressing further against the hard planes of his chest, your head lolling to the side as you came, the unfamiliar scent of the man filling your nose, serving as a reminder of who was granting you your blissful gratification.
Colin’s tongue traced over the small hurt that he had inflicted with his teeth, his fingers stilling their relentless thrusting to move within you instead, curling at the perfect angle and coaxing every last drop of cum from you before pulling out entirely. Your thighs jerked and trembled, closing around his hand as you came down from your high with a gasp, regaining control of your body once more, your back collapsing back against the chair.
Withdrawing his hand from your pants, he stepped away from you, your laboured breaths filling the small room, your wetness glistening on Colin’s fingers beneath the harsh lighting as he pulled away, walking slowly back around the table and dropping into his own chair.
Your swallow was audible as he pulled his papers closer to him, taking up a pen and beginning to scribble messily formed words onto the blank sheet.
His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, triumph glistening there.
“You can go now.” He dismissed, his attention settling back on the paper he filled out. “Go sit back in the waiting room, I’ll send someone to talk you through what happens next.”
You rose from your seat in silence, your wetness smearing onto your upper thighs as you moved, your legs weak. With one final glance at the detective, you turned on your heel, trying to gather back some of your dignity as you left the room, Colin’s focus remaining fixed to the paper before him as the door closed behind you.
taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins @ananad1 @shlutnutt
#mare of easttown#mare of easttown hbo#evan peters mare of easttown#mare of easttown fanfiction#colin zabel mare of easttown#colin zabel#colin zabel x reader#colin zabel x reader smut#colin zabel smut#evan peters colin zabel#colin zabel fanfiction#colin zabel fandom#evan peters#evan peters smut#evan peters x reader#evan peters x reader smut#evan peters ahs#evan peters fandom#evan peters fanfiction
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Parallels From Another Life
warnings: angst, fluff, soulmate stuff, mentions of death, death, injury (tried not to be too descriptive)
in game au
a/n: was in the mood to write for sapnap and got this idea. This was way angstier than i planned, and i blame the fact that i was listening to taylor swift while writing it.
sapnap x gn!reader, james x gn!reader, mason x gn!reader
italics = flashbacks
masterlist (requests are open) | part two
You were baking like you did everyday. Though it was your job to do so. You owned a bakery in the small practically abandoned town. Despite the town being broke you made a fair share of money considering you fed them with your bread.
It was almost noon in the quiet town. You had sold all the bread you were going to today, so you decided to close the bakery. It wasn’t like any new people would arrive and if the bandits arrived you wouldn’t want them to think you were open.
You were upstairs in your home, that connected to your bakery, when you heard the sound of the bakery door opening. Your fault for not locking up, but no one comes in when it’s closed. You grabbed a sword from your chest and slowly walked down the stairs. When you reached the end and saw who was at the door you sighed and put down your sword.
“Mason? Shouldn’t you be out committing banditry?,” you asked smiling at him playfully. He smiled at you while walking up to your counter.
“You know that’s not all I do, right?,” Mason asked.
“Well, how would I know. It’s all I see you do,” you said to him.
“Well, if you went on that date with me you’d know I do more than just steal,” Mason responded. Mason had been wanting a date with you for almost as long as you’d know him and every time you’d reject him.
“Maybe in another life,” you smirked at him.
“Then I can’t wait for that life,” Mason said smiling at you. You rolled your eyes before offering him some bread like you do every time he comes over.
You didn’t live in the L’Manberg or the Dream Smp since you liked to keep out of all the wars, so you lived a little bit away in a smallish forest. You were tending to your garden when you heard footsteps that you recognized as Sapnap’s.
“Hello, Sapnap,” you said smiling to yourself, but not looking up from your garden.
“Y/N!,” Sapnap said greeting you excitedly like he did every time he saw you.
“What are doing here? Shouldn’t you be off setting things on fire and killing other people’s pets,” you said finally looking towards the brunette. He smiled walking towards you as you began towards your door with a basket filled with carrots.
“What? I can’t visit my dear friend, Y/N?,” Sapnap asked taking the basket from you and carrying it inside.
“It’s not that it’s that usually when you come over you end up asking me on a date and then I always reply...
“Maybe in another life. I know, but maybe one day i’ll ask and you’ll say yes and that “in another life” becomes “in this life”,” Sapnap said finishing the sentence for you.
You smiled at him. You did truly like him as much as he liked you, but with the wars and the constant conflict, and need for leverage any relationship that was romantic wasn’t exactly worth it. Especially when the person was so involved in the conflict and could die any moment.
You had known Sir Billium and his less rich friends for years. You had known Sir Billium since you were both children and James you had met at one of Billium’s part years ago. You and James were pretty close, but didn’t hang out too much since his wife wasn’t the biggest fan of you. That being because she thought James liked you and if anything it was the other way around.
You quietly entered the small mansion you were one of the last ones and despite everyone wearing a mask you managed to recognize them. Everyone except one person who seemed out of place. Once you said your hellos to Billium he introduced you to the newcomer. His name was Karl and when you said hello he gave you a weird look like he had known you for years.
The masquerade went on as planned even when a second unexpected guest came. And everything was fine until the lights flickered off. Everyone went to hide you following close behind James not wanting to lose him in the darkness. Once the lights were back on, it was revealed that the second unexpected guest, Drew, had died.
No one seemed bothered since no one cared for the poor, in money, man. The second time the lights flickered off you did the same following James once again. Afterwards it was revealed that it was Lyaria that was presumably murdered. The pattern continued on until the only ones left were you, Oliver, Billium, James, Karl, and the butler.
You planned to go with James and Oliver when the lights went off again, but found yourself lost in the mansion. You began walking through the dark mansion stopping when you tripped over something. You tried to get a look, but couldn’t because of the dark room.
“Hello?,” you heard a faint voice that you recognized as James’s.
“James? Are you okay!,” you said kneeling down to be near him.
“Y-yeah, i’m fine,” James said lying though you didn’t know that.
“Well, we should get help. I’ll go find Billium and Karl,” you said about to get up when you felt James’s hand on yours.
“Oh,” you said realizing what James’s fate would be. You sat back down next to him not letting go of his hand. You couldn’t see anything because it was dark, but you could feel his hand on yours. The two of you stayed silent not saying anything.
“I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered. James didn’t respond in words, but you felt him pick up your hand and place a soft kiss on your knuckles. The lights flickered back on, and he was gone.
It was late at night when you heard a knock on your door. You weren’t expecting anyone. but nonetheless you tiredly walked towards your door. Opening it you saw an injured Sapnap standing at your door. “hi,” he groaned.
“Oh, my god,” you said quickly helping sapnap inside and on your couch. You ran towards your bathroom getting what you needed to help him.
“What happened?,” You said as you hurriedly took a seat next to him and began to help him. You propped up his leg and began cleaning his injuries.
“Fight with Tommy,” Sapnap answered turning to look at you. You sighed and continued to tend to his wounds.
“You could’ve been hurt worse. You could’ve died,” you said starting to bandage him up.
“I know,” he answered softly. The two of you sat in silence even after you were done fixing him up. After you were done, you grabbed him a blanket and helped him lay down on your couch.
You sat down on the floor in front him and smiled softly. “You good, now?,” you asked. He just nodded clearly worn out from his fight.
“You gotta start being careful, because I really don’t wanna lose you,” you muttered softly as Sapnap drifted into a peaceful sleep. Well as peaceful as someone who almost died could be. You leaned in giving him a soft kiss on the forehead before walking back to your bedroom to sleep. You had always felt close to Sapnap almost as if you had known him for decades.
#sapnap x y/n#sapnap x reader#sapnap#tales of the smp#dream smp#dream smp x reader#mcyt x reader#mcyt#dream#dreamwas taken
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Time for @selfshipperapproved again, Day 5 - Surprise Gift!
These ‘short’ bits keep getting longer, whoops...
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me: hey
me: hey
…
sigh…
me: i miss you
… sugar sweet is typing…
sugar sweet: Aww, I miss you too, Sans <3
me: you still out right now huh?
sugar sweet: Yeah. Still have things to do unu
sugar sweet: Sorry
me: nah, don’t worry about it babe
me: just wanted to check in is all
sugar sweet: Aww, thanks Sans :)
Is he being clingy?
Sans rubs his humerus a little over his hoodie, sighing. He knows you, you would never be bothered by him, especially when he’s being affectionate like this. In fact, he’s pretty sure you’d get mad at him, if he stopped.
You’re not typing anything else, probably because you’re walking.
A grin comes across his face.
me: baby i can’t liiive without youuuuu
me: i neeed youuuu
me: im dyiiing here
me: come heeeeere or i’ll be goooone :’(
He lays down on his bed, watching his phone, waiting for you to see his messages.
Sure enough, after about 5 minutes, he sees you typing again.
sugar sweet: Omg, Sans!!
sugar sweet: Aw I really miss you too Sans, you know I’d go home now if I could
me: yeah you can
sugar sweet: Tickets are expensive???
me: i’ll send you money come home
sugar sweet: Asadgjkdfj
sugar sweet: I’ll think about it
sugar sweet: Also I gtg, this place’s busy, see you later Sans!
sugar sweet: ^3^
me: love you sweetheart <3
He sighs, covering his face with his arm, the other, holding the phone, falling limp onto his bed. He knows it’s not much longer before he’ll see you again he just feels… itchy.
But he promised you he’d get through this, he’ll get through it for you. He’ll get to see you soon…
He clings onto it.
He sighs, long out of his nasal cavity.
ah… maybe i’ll just go to nap now…
Always with the naps. He’s both been getting more active and lazier while you’re away, and even he doesn’t get it. He controls his breathing, planning on drifting on to pass the time…
“SANS!”
Ah, of course. Papyrus won’t even let him nap.
“what!! argh, ya don’t gotta scream my name all the time do you?” It’s like he just knows when Sans is trying to laze about.
“COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS INSTANT! YOU’VE GOT SOMETHING.”
Sans glowers at the ceiling, groaning “fuck, can it wait? i’ll get it later, jus’ put it near the door or somethin’…”
“I BELIEVE IT’S SOMETHING YOU’D BE INTERESTED IN.” is it as interestin’ as the bed is right now- “IT’S FROM YOUR DEAR BELOVED HUMAN.”
Papyrus startles a bit when Sans appears in front of him after jumping off his bed, scrambling for the package he’s holding.
“what what?? why didn’t ya tell me earlier?? what is it? ya didn’t open it did’ja??” He latches onto the little box Papyrus was holding.
“NO NO! THIS ONE’S MINE,” He yanks it out of his brother’s hand, pointing a bony finger to something on the sofa. “THAT ONE’S YOURS.”
It’s bigger than Papyrus’, but also in softer packaging, and Sans practically jumps over the sofa to grab at it. He almost tears the packaging open to shreds as soon as he held it in his hands, but he has half a mind to stop himself before he accidentally damages whatever it is you (his very important, special human) sent him.
He carefully cuts through the tape on his claws, smiling at the little heart shape (‘No, it’s not a soul!’) you drew over the packaging. Inside there was something soft, still in plastic, and as it crinkles and squeaks while he removes the packaging, Sans’ sockets go wide when he sees what it is; cutting through the soft plastic faster but just as carefully to get to the treasure:
A new hoodie.
You knew his taste- it was red on the inside, black outside with red patterns and swirls over it. It wasn’t too crowded or flashy to be gaudy or tacky- just enough to be eye catching.
“oh hell yeah…”
He quickly shifted out of his usual (and still-loved) hoodie to wear it, thinking about going to the mirror to check himself out.
Still in the living room, Papyrus had opened your gift as well, a small red and black tie with a similar pattern to his hoodie.
He smiles as he feels the quality of the fabric, putting it up near his neck. “I HAVE TO SAY, SHE HAS IMMACULATE TASTE…”
“of course she does,” Sans scoffs, “she l-“
“SHE DOES LIKE ME, DOESN’T SHE?” Papyrus chuckles his way, “PLATONICALLY, OF COURSE. I’M NOT SURE HOW SHE ENDED UP WITH YOU…”
“i swear i’ll fuckin’-“
“WAIT, WAIT!” Papyrus hold his hand out to him, already looking ready to murder his brother, “WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO SEND A PICTURE TO HER TO SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION?”
A retort was right on the tip of Sans’ unsummoned tongue, but he holds it.
damn him, he cursed silently, damn him using her to do what he wants.
“alright alright. make it quick ok?” Sans barks, giving Papyrus’ camera phone a sharp grin.
“… HMM… WHAT IF YOU LEANED A LITTLE BIT TO THE SIDE?”
Sans raised his brow. “like… this?”
“A LITTLE MORE.”
He does.
“MORE THAN THAT.”
He does, again.
“NO… STILL NOT ENOUGH.”
Sans leans enough that he’s sure he’s going to topple over if he’s asked to lean anymore.
“bro, i-“
“OK OK, I’LL DO IT FOR YOU. STAY STILL…”
“what the fuck-“
Sans starts to growl and snap at his brother as he tries to shove him to the side; obviously not trying to take a serious picture of him even though Papyrus takes pictures of his angry brother. It was bound to make you laugh later.
#sanship#sans x self-ship week 2021#day 4#uf!sans x reader#uf!papyrus#is there too#is this one a little rushed? im not sure#but#hehe i feel sans would love it#ofc the old hoodie is still his favorite#but this one's his second#bc it looks cool but also bc it came from his sweetheart uwu///
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Embracing the darkness | Alina & the Darkling
"Alina," he said, and I could see that he was fighting with himself, "can I come to you tonight?"
What should have happened if the Darkling visited Alina that night after the party.
The sound of the party carried all the way to my room. I had mingled for another hour, trying to appear as if nothing had just occurred. As if I had not just kissed the Darkling. As if my whole world had not just changed.
My fingers touched my lips softly, remembering the warmth he had radiated. His hands wrapped around my body lit a spark in me. The rush of adrenaline hadn’t left my system, and the only thing I could do now was pace back and forth. The Darkling had asked to come to my room. But I’d given no straight answer before he disappeared.
Would he even come?
I wasn’t sure if I even wanted him to come. I knew that if he showed up outside of my door, I would be unable to resist him. I should want to push him away — run from him, and find someplace safe. But every cell in my body ached for him. Resisting was futile, because in the end, I would always give in.
Never in my life had I felt more wanted than in his presence. The way he looked at me, like I was the most precious sight he’d ever seen. The Darkling also looked as if it pained him to be near me. It was as if he was fighting something within himself. Making a choice whether or not to allow himself to feel.
Pacing was doing me no good, and so I crossed the large room and peered out the window. People were outside in small groups, lingering. I knew that no one would miss my presence at the party. I had a nice time, I could admit that much at least. However, I did feel like I was playing pretend, and then come morning I would wake up back in reality — a poor girl from Ravka.
The Darkling could have anyone, so why did he kiss me?
If he did come to my room tonight, what would he do? Laugh at my inexperience? Or worse, force me to do something I didn’t want to.
A small laugh left my lips. As if I wouldn’t do anything he said. His power over me was overwhelming. Much as I tried to fight it, it was there. Lurking under my skin. One word from the Darkling and I would be on my knees.
My heart began to race as I thought about the way he would take me in his arms, and press his lips to mine once again.
I wanted him. More than anything.
For years, I had thought about having my first sexual experience with Mal, but it was clear now that he wanted nothing to do with me. Those were just silly fantasies. Of course, the visions I was having now of myself and the Darkling were fantasies, but I hoped they would soon become reality.
Time continued to pass, and as I looked at the clock, I realized another hour had passed. If he wanted to come to my room tonight, then surely he would have come already.
I sighed and walked over to my bed. There was no way I was going to get out of my dress without help, so I resigned to sleeping in it. My feet ached after a long day, and I knew that tomorrow I would go back to training. As I climbed into bed, I tried not to think about the Darkling. I tried not to think about what he was doing at this very moment, or possibly who he was doing it with.
In moments, I was asleep, dreaming of warm embraces and kisses in dark corridors.
++++++
“Alina,” someone whispered and I jolted upright in bed.
The room was covered in darkness, with only a sliver of pale moonlight shining at the end of my bed. A tall figure stood there, and it took everything in me not to scream. Was it him? Had he finally come? Or was this someone else and I was about to be murdered?
I drew forth the light from within me and let it rest in the palm of my hand, illuminating the figure.
“Did I startle you?” The Darkling said quietly, smirking as he bent his head. “That wasn’t my intention, Alina.”
“Don’t you know to knock on a person’s room before entering?”
He had the good sense to look ashamed, but only slightly. The light emanating from my hand cast a soft glow to his features, and he looked younger… warmer. The Darkling came around to sit on the side of my bed, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek.
“I did knock,” he nodded, and then smiled slowly. “But no one answered. I just wanted to see that you were safe.”
See me safe?
“Is that all?” I asked, leaning against his touch, and resting my face in the palm of his hand.
The Darkling sat there quietly, and I began to wonder if he would ever say anything. But then he moved closer, his other hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I didn’t know if you wanted me to come,” he replied. “Or even if I should.”
“So you broke into my room?” I laughed, my other hand moving to touch his cupping my cheek. I brought his hand to rest in my lap, my fingers lightly stroking his palm.
“Did I really break in though?” He cocked his brow, a smug smile playing on his lips. “You should have locked your doors, Alina. If you didn’t want me to enter.”
I knew he was right. I had even debated whether or not to lock them earlier, but decided against it for this very reason. The Darkling was here, sitting on my bed, our hands touching. He seemed so much softer when it was just the two of us, as if all the pressures of the world instantly faded away.
“Can I ask you something?” I continued to trace mindless patterns on his hand.
“Anything.”
“Why…” I began, then shook my head, feeling foolish for even wondering.
He tilted my head up to look into his eyes. Every time he touched me, I felt a rush of power surge through me. Confidence, and bravery came to me as easily as breathing when I was near him. All the things I never thought I could be.
“Why did you kiss me?” I finally said, watching the emotion play out on his face. First surprise, that I had asked the question, and then puzzlement.
His hand in mine flipped, and his fingers moved slowly to my wrist. A small squeak left my lips as his thumb pressed down lightly, and then continued to move up my arm.
“Which time do you mean?” He grinned, looking outright mischievous.
“Both… I suppose,” I laughed at the absurdity that he had even kissed me at all.
“I’m not entirely sure,” his brows furrowed. A strange look crossed over his face, and I recognized it as insecurity. “All I know is that I wanted to, and that if I didn’t kiss you right then and there…” he trailed off.
His eyes met mine then, their slate color boring into mine. That same urgency that had come between us earlier tonight still lingered. I may not have much experience with what might come next, but I was more than willing.
“Alina?”
My stomach fluttered like a bird’s wings every time he said my name. “Yes?”
“I’m going to kiss you again,” he said matter of factly. Then he was leaning in, his hand caressing my cheek before his lips met mine. The light faded from the room, shrouding us in darkness. A small moan left my lips as his hand slid into my hair, pulling me closer to him. Part of me thought this was all a dream, but I wasn’t clever enough to dream of something this good, this fantastic.
“I want you,” he muttered against my lips. “I don’t understand it.”
“Neither do I,” I sighed, my hands tugging his collar, eager to feel more of him.
He kissed me again, before releasing his grip on me and standing. I knew it wouldn’t last — he had finally come to his senses and would now laugh and leave me.
Instead, he offered me his hand, and I took it.
“I never got a chance to tell you how stunning you look in black,” he smiled as he raised my left arm in the air. Laughter escaped me as he began to twirl me around, the black silk spinning out in all directions. I’d never felt more beautiful.
Suddenly, his arms gathered around me, and he pulled me flush against his chest.
“Why did you send me this black dress?” I asked, peering up into his face.
Indecision flickered in his eyes — the choice of whether or not to tell me the truth. I had suspected it since the start, that this, us, was something neither of us could comprehend. Something powerful, and with care could grow to be something unstoppable.
“I wanted,” his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. “I wanted everyone to know that you belonged with me. That you and I are the same.”
“The same,” I repeated. My head dropped, and I rested it against his chest. That’s when I heard his heart beating, fast and quick like a hummingbird. He was as nervous as I was.
Like calls to like.
“Are you sure you don’t have someone else you’d rather be spending tonight with?” I asked, keeping my head down, unable to meet his intense gaze. His hands slid along my back, and I gasped whenever he began to unbutton my dress.
“Believe it or not,” he smiled. I knew he was smiling even though I couldn’t see his face. “I haven’t done this in a very long time. It’s never felt like this… with anyone, Alina.”
That made me curious, and I moved my head to look at him. His hands paused on the buttons of my dress.
“I’ve never…” I blushed.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Alina.”
As if I could stop him now, with half the buttons of my dress undone. My senses were leaving me, and as his fingers grazed my bare back, I melted against him. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
“I want this,” I nodded, smiling as my hand slid up to the buttons of his black kefta. “I want you.”
Color rose to his cheeks, and the pit of my stomach warmed at the thought that I could bring him happiness. The Darkling terrified me, as he did most people, but that terrifying feeling was also exhilarating. It made me feel alive, and when he bent his head to kiss my neck, I let my emotions takeover.
“Oh, Alina,” he gasped softly and I opened my eyes to see the whole room covered in a soft light. Looking down at my body, I realized that it was me who was glowing — light emitted from me, illuminating the darkness.
The look of awe and wonder on his face filled me with pride. He said he hadn’t given up on me yet, and here in his arms, I felt it. The balance between the light and the dark.
I stepped out of his embrace, looking down at my body still emitting a soft glow. Then, tendrils of black smoke began to dance around me. The Darkling held out one hand, making the smoke wrap around me. The rational side of my mind told me that I should be afraid, but feeling his power around me only encouraged me. I pushed against it, and more light filled the room.
“Take my hand, Alina,” he said, holding it out to me. “Be who you were always meant to be… with me.”
I stood on a precipice, staring at the very man who would change the course of my life forever. As the light continued to glow, I reached out, took his hand and embraced the darkness.
My fingers trembled on the buttons of his kefta, feeling unsure of myself. His hands returned to the buttons of my dress and one by one, I came undone. No man had ever seen me like this, utterly exposed.
“Don’t be afraid,” he smiled, tipping my chin up and then he kissed me gently.
The silk slid from my arms and down my body, leaving me bare before him.
I felt his gaze linger over me, and I wanted to cover myself. Shivers cascaded through my body as he reached out and placed his hand on my chest, just over my heart.
“Are you nervous, Alina?”
I nodded, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. I wanted to be bold, and take what I wanted, but first I would need some help.
The Darkling began to unbutton his kefta, followed by the shirt underneath. My eyes never left his as he removed the rest of his clothing. His hands found mind, interlacing.
“Go ahead,” he smirked. “Have a look.”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I grinned, but glanced down anyways, eager to see him. His body was lean, and muscular. Strong, and yet covered with small scars here and there. Battle wounds. My eyes traveled further down and settled on the space between his thighs. His cock was — well, it was huge, and I shivered, wondering how it would fit inside me.
“You’re…” I squeezed his hands. “Beautiful.”
He laughed, the sound making my heart race faster.
“That’s not exactly what men want to hear when they’re standing before a woman,” he teased. “But a compliment, nonetheless.”
His head bent and his lips were on mine. My lips parted to welcome his tongue, brushing against mine. Our bodies pressed together, and his length was hard, throbbing near my center. The Darkling slid his hands down my back, all while taking us closer to the bed. My body fell back gently against the soft mattress. He loomed over me, like a hunter stalking it’s prey.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “All mine.”
That thought thrilled me. His. All his. In that moment, I wanted him to possess me completely. I wanted to know him, and for him to know me. Reaching up, I took his hand and placed it over my breast.
His palm squeezed my tender flesh, then he skimmed it over my nipple. It hardened under his touch and he repeated the motion to my other breast. I could tell he was holding himself back, trying to be gentle.
“Please,” I begged, adjusting myself beneath him. This was my first time, but I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Tell me if I hurt you, Alina,” he said, worry creasing his forehead. I nodded, and then gasped as his mouth covered my breast. His tongue flicked out against my nipple. My back arched as he bit down, tugging on the hard bud.
Lightning raced through my veins as his hand moved along my body, down over my stomach until finally resting between my thighs. He was there, lightly touching me, feeling my wetness. His cock was hard on my leg, and I felt him lining up with my center. My body tensed as I prepared for what came next.
“Relax,” he suddenly grinned, moving one hand to stroke my cheek. “It won’t hurt as much if you’re relaxed.”
I took a deep breath, searching his eyes.
“Try to bring light into the room,” he suggested. “Focus on your power.”
His lips moved to my jaw, and down my neck. His length touched my center, and I moaned, parting my legs further. Easily, the light came forth, filling the space around us and creating a bubble of warmth.
“That’s it,” he murmured against my lips and then he was sliding forward, inch by inch. Gasps left my lips as he filled me, and the light continued to grow, only getting brighter.
Once he was fully inside me, he held still, letting me adjust. The Darkling rose above me, his hand cupping my cheek and in that moment, it was as if our souls were uniting, connecting beyond the limits of our world.
Then he moved, strong and powerful in each thrust.
“Oh!”
It hurt, badly at first, but as he continued to push forward, my body eased and soon I was moving my hips. Though he was large, my body welcomed him eagerly. I wrapped my arms around him, wanting him closer.
“You’re so good,” he said softly, repeating my name as he rolled against me. Our bodies slid together. I wrapped one leg around his waist, sighing at the sensation. The light around us shined brighter and stronger.
“More,” I begged, scratching at his back. “More!”
His hips jerked against me, and then his lips claimed mine, fierce in their desire. Our limbs intertwined, and I didn’t know where he ended and I began. Something was building inside of me, growing from the pit of my stomach.
“Alina, Alina,” he breathed my name. I slid one hand onto the back of his head and then I felt tears spring to the corners of my eyes.
I loved him.
This man I barely knew… who’s power should have scared me. I loved him. He moved within, simultaneously ripping me apart and putting me back together. I came undone, crying out as my body began to shake. Intense light filled the room and then a moment later, we were covered in darkness.
The Darkling let out a loud moan, his lips forever saying my name before he crashed on top of me. He cradled me in his arms and I chased that feeling, feeling the light creep up to the surface. I let it overflow until I could once again see his face. Carefully, he rolled onto his side, bringing me with him.
“I’m awfully glad I didn’t lock my door tonight,” I sighed, content.
He chuckled, his fingers smoothing over my cheeks before settling on my shoulder.
“You should probably lock it,” he said, still breathless. “It’s not safe. You never know who might come lurking these dark halls.”
“Like some villain, out to steal a girls virtue?”
Concern splashed over his face, but I wiped it away by placing a kiss to his lips.
“You are no villain,” I said softly. “You are simply a man.”
“Alina,” he sighed. “If only you were right.”
“I am always right.”
His hands pulled me closer to him, and I wondered when he would leave. Earlier at the party, Ivan had told him some important news about the herd. I knew we couldn’t stay like this forever, but I wanted to.
“You are who I say you are,” I spread my palm against his chest.
He was quiet, and his eyes were closed, but I knew he wasn’t asleep, only thinking.
“You make me want to be better, Alina,” he finally said after a long time.
I smiled and kissed him. “Together… we can be anything we want to be.”
The Darkling didn’t leave that night, but stayed holding me until the sun came up. As much as I didn’t want him to leave, we both knew that he needed to slip out of my room before anyone else woke up.
We’d made love twice that night, and my body ached in places I didn’t know existed. My lips still tingled from his touch. And my heart longed to be near him again. From now on, I belonged to him, and he belonged to me.
#embracing the darkness#alina starkov#aleksander morozova#the darkling#i will will their ending into existence#darklina#what should have happened in chapter 14#shadow and bone#the grisha trilogy#ben barnes#darklina fic#darklina fanfic#grisha fanfic#shadow and bone fanfic
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A Wrightworth Fic 3
(Finally, I was struggling with this chapter since I aim for 4 pages per chapter in Google Docs. TW Panic attack)
Beginning Previous Next A03
_____________________________
Any day that he spent with his friends or his Dollie was a good day in Phoenix’s book, though, he was pretty sure he’d suck at keeping track of anything in a book about himself. He couldn’t even put together a timeline unless he had something else other than his faulty memory to look back on.
It’d been about a month, he thinks, since the arcade meet up with Miles and Larry and Butzworth, the inflatable metallic purple alien, had since passed in an unfortunate accident otherwise known as falling on him and causing him to pop. Phoenix had hung up a piece of the deceased alien’s face on his wall and was currently glaring at it while he did what felt like expelling his lungs through his mouth. He couldn’t believe he’d lost his Cold Killer X medicine after lunch with Dollie, feeling like it was just him being clumsy and forgetful again. Dollie had promised him that she’d find the cold medicine for him, but that was a couple days ago now and he was sure that Dollie had given up by now.
A knocking on his door drew him out of his cold-induced trance and he got up to see who it could be, hoping it was Dollie with the medicine.
He tripped over a small pile of clothes as he made his way to the door, his face returning the pattern of knocking with one loud thud followed by a quiet “ow”. Pushing himself back up, he opened the door and spotted Miles’s handsome- no, not handsome, well, yes handsome, but that’s not the right thing to be thinking right now, face. He wasn’t sure why Miles was looking at him like he was a stranger though, that was weird.
“Excuse me, I am seeking my acquaintance, he goes by the name of Phoenix Wright?”
“Miles, I’m Phoenix.” He answered, brushing his hair out of his face. His bedhead must’ve really confused Miles or something.
“I am making a note to ensure you never run short of hair gel, you are not recognizable without it.”
“I’m sick, why would I be using hair gel?”
“Why would you not be? You’ve done many other ridiculous things in my presence, Wright, hair gel is no different for you.”
Phoenix could only let out an exasperated groan in response, stepping to the side so Miles could enter. He noticed his friend’s upturned nose at the sight of his dorm room, a frown prominent on his face, which still was not handsome and he’d never think about that ever again.
“I feel as if I am entering a bird’s nest.”
“Gee, why not help me lay a few eggs then? You’ve clearly got your feathers all ruffled by being here, I can tell by your neck frills.”
Miles’s face tinted red and his eyebrows lowered while his eyes narrowed slightly, turning his head away from Phoenix. He wondered if Miles really would inflate like a bird, letting out a laugh at the thought.
“...I’ll have you know it is called a cravat, you uneducated plebeian.”
“If I’m a plebeian, then what’re you?” Phoenix tilted his head and rubbed his chin in thought. “Are you a publican here to tell me the taxes have increased?”
“How on earth- nevermind, you’ve always retained odd information.” Miles pinched the bridge of his nose, his head shaking as he clearly fought a smile.
Phoenix’s nose suddenly began to burn and he inhaled air before quickly burying his nose in the bend of his elbow, several small sneezes being projected into his pink sweater. He coughed afterwards, his diaphragm aching heavily. He hated being sick, he didn’t like all the sneezing, the struggles to breathe, the copious amounts of snot oozing from his heated nose.
“Have you not been taking medication?”
Phoenix shook his head in response, unable to verbally respond with how clogged up his throat felt. He grabbed a plastic cup off the counter and quickly filled it up in the small kitchen sink, drinking the water until some dribbled down his chin.
“I lost it a couple days ago, Dollie was supposed to be helping me find it.”
“Is Dollie her actual name?”
“No, no,” Phoenix coughed again, his face flushed from a fever that was popping up, “her name is Dahlia, Dahlia Hawthorne.” He didn’t notice the look of shock and horror that spread across Miles’s face, distracted by his phone ringing.
He answered the phone with a nasally greeting, his mood visibly dropping when he heard who it was. He slipped the phone back in his pocket then grabbed a medical mask, stomping towards the door.
“I’ll be right back, some guy wants to talk to me.” Phoenix said before slamming the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With that resounding slam, Miles was left alone in Wright’s dwellings, his thoughts spiraling. He was filled with worry and dread at the thought of Wright being in a relationship with a woman that had murdered her own sister and framed someone else, a woman who had faked her own kidnapping years prior with help of another. Dahlia Hawthorne was very much not good news.
He glanced around the room he was in just to ground himself, noting that every single object or item in the room forced him to remember that Wright, his soulmate and childhood friend, was most definitely not safe. He could feel himself struggling to breathe and had to flee the building, his heart racing and his surroundings growing blurrier. His fists clenched and unclenched in an attempt to stimulate his nerves. The ground would not slip away from him, not today and not any day in the future.
The birds were chirping without a worry, but the leaves had turned up to expose their veins as clouds rolled in and all he could think about was the fact that Wright had no umbrella. He adjusted his cravat with a sullen expression, his eyes red with tears that refused to flow.
His soulmate, his Phoenix Wright, was enamored with a terrible, terrible excuse for a human being. Hold on, his soulmate, perhaps there was something that could be done with the chain that bound the two. He looked down at the ever-twinkling golden chain, reaching to touch it with his fingers, but feeling it pass through his grasp with a cold breeze, similar to that he’d heard of ghost encounters. Focusing on the bond, he envisioned Wright in his mind, the atrocious spiked hair and the mismatched blue and brown eyes being the first things to appear. The rest of his face followed suit, completing the imagined picture of his soulmate. He’d never given much thought about the chain before, but found that opening up to it resulted in something unexpected.
Wright’s feelings flooded him, a sense of irritation and contempt washing over him and nearly knocking him off balance. He could just barely find a slight tinge of confusion coming from Wright as well, wondering if maybe what he’d just done was not a one-way flow. Further anger boiled over his friend, forcing Miles to sit down on the dirty steps that led up to Wright’s dorm. His head was spinning and his surroundings were screaming at him, every little noise, every small cloud of smells, they all seemed to be attacking him, his senses being overwhelmed.
Miles’s world was going darker, yet darker, his body slowly shutting down. He forced himself up onto his feet, stumbling down the steps and making his way to a quiet area. His salvation in the moment turned out to be a small public bathroom, locking the door behind him as he collapsed to the floor. His breathing grew more uneven as he was disturbed by the ringing of his phone.
Lifting his phone from inside his coat pocket, he looked at the caller identification, spotting a professional image he’d snapped of the detective that often worked with him. He brushed aside his own reflection of his face falling apart in favor of answering the phone without even a polite greeting.
“Heya, sir! We just took in a suspect from a murder case and he keeps mentioning you! Do ya know anyone by the name of Phoenix Wright?” Gumshoe’s voice was boisterous through the speaker, yet Mile’s heart grew cold with fear.
“That I do.” He finally managed to get out, if not a bit hoarse.
“You sound rough, pal, you okay?” How could such a dense detective always manage to see right through him? He felt as if the entire world was closing around him.
“I am fine, detective, tell me of what happened this instant.”
“Right. Well, this guy was found near the body of another college student named Doug Swallow. We’re waiting on the autopsy report right now, but it’s clear as day your pal’s a murderer, sir. He’s in the detention center right now.”
Miles wasn’t sure if he was capable of responding further without dissolving into an unprofessional babble, simply humming in response and ending the call. Gumshoe had always possessed a loud voice and it was only now that that voice was assisting in his current downfall, the words echoing throughout his mind and ringing in his ears. Wright had been arrested for a murder. He could feel something near devastation through the chain that now burned his wrist. What could he do now?
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𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓶𝓮 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓮
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Conwoman!Reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected sex (do not recommend, pls be wise) Ransom's hurt ego/pride.
A/N: I love Ransom so much. I'd probably let him get away with murder, which is probs wrong since I'm a law student. Anyways, hope you enjoy!! Also the writing is crap and not at all intelligent, I just needed to let off some Ransom steam. ^_^
I post my stuff here and on AO3, nowhere else.
You took a sip of your martini. Perfect. The one thing about these high end resto-bars was that they never went wrong with their martinis. Always the right balance of sweet and intoxication. If only you could always afford these places.
You didn't mean to sound bitter, oh no no. Life has worked out better than expected. Your way of life got lonely sometimes, but survival of the fittest was the way of life, right?
In your experience, doing what you did, you realised that men were very literal creatures, always thinking linearly. Most of them lacked any depth to their thoughts, their way of life. The rich ones? They were as deep as an above ground pool. Throwing money every chance they got, flaunting their first row seats at the operas, trips to their villas in the French Riviera and what not. Their wives had no idea, always doting after their perfect husbands, with their Himalayan Birkins.
Imagine the surprise these men felt when you took what was most precious to them; no, not their families or children, but their money. A woman, no less. A woman who they had considered a damsel, in need of pearls and diamonds, and their strong strapping arms and care. And they didn’t dare report this. How could they? As far as their wives were concerned, you didn’t exist. You snorted. Good riddance, and all that.
That’s why you chose him.
Hugh Ransom Drysdale.
He wasn’t a different one, that's for sure. A pretty boy with arrogance dripping off of him like he had just stepped out of a swanky prep school. He screamed rich kid, with his perfectly coiffed hair, right to his buffed fingernails.
This should be easy, you thought to yourself.
You walked passed him, swaying your hips ever so slightly. Your look for tonight was carefully calculated: bait for a good, prize catch. There were many men there, sure, ordering crates of champagne for their "business associates".
But this one was different. He didn't pay heed to you as you made your way towards him, placing yourself next to him at the bar, nor did he check you out like most men did. He simply took a swig of his drink, focusing hard at something in his phone. Weird. You chose to give him the benefit of the doubt, calculating his next move. Surely, he'd ask to buy you a drink. He was just playing hard to get, you were sure. His next move stunned you, however.
He got up, slid a 100 dollar bill on the counter, and walked away, his jacket slung over his arm. You blinked, not really understanding what had happened. You ordered a red wine, quite perplexed. This was perhaps the first time something like this had happened, and it quite perturbed you.
You didn’t have time to dwell on your thoughts, however, as the bartender slid a coaster towards you.
“Mr. Drysdale sends his regards.”
You frowned. Drysdale? The famous real estate mogul? Man oh man, this was gonna be good.
You smirked as you read the scribbles on the coaster. To think you thought that he was gonna be different. Oh well. Room 537 it is, then.
You made your way to the room, checking your makeup and spritzing on a bit of perfume on the way. Standing outside his room, you knocked three times before the door swung open to reveal a treat.
Mr. Drysdale, sans shirt and his tight dress pants. Yum.
You composed yourself and entered the room, remembering the fact that you had a job to complete.
“So, that’s your game?” you asked, setting yourself down on the settee by the minibar.
“I don’t play games.” he said, pouring an amber liquid from the crystal cut decanter.
“Then why bother giving me your room number?” you drawled, accepting the glass.
“I know you wanted me to chase you. Knew it from the moment you entered. But that’s not how I work. I get what I want, and I wanted you.”
“A real charmer, aren’t ya?” you said dryly.
“Let’s cut to the chase sweetheart. You want me, I want you. Simple.”
“How can you be so sure that I want you? I could have just come up to confront you or something.”
“Yea, right. That dress says differently. You know what you want and you were going after it. I just skipped a few steps along the way. You’re welcome.” he smirked, raising his perfectly shaped eyebrow at you.
“So now that your plan has come into play, what do you suggest we do?”
He grinned and took a swig of his drink. Placing his drink on the counter, he took your hand in his and pulled you up, pulling you tightly to him.
Leaning towards your ear, he rasped, “I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.”
With that, Ransom didn’t waste any more time. He picked you up bridal style and tossed you on the bed, without any preamble.
“Last chance to leave, kitten. Whaddaya want?”
You gulped. You wanted this, you needed this. You didn’t bother answering him as you pulled him down by his tie, lips melding against his as you held onto his collar. He was surprised by your sudden attack, but reciprocated equally, if not with more ferocity.
Lowering you onto the bed, he yanked the thin straps of your dress down, sucking at your pulse point, his hands caressing your body. You moaned, feeling his actions go straight to your core, lighting you up from within. He pulled the dress down with urgency, freeing your breasts from their confines.
Taking a hardened nub in his mouth, he swirled it around his tongue as his hands wandered lower. He was about to pull your dress up, when you stopped his wandering hands, pushing him off you, as he looked at you, bewildered.
“What the-!” he began but you quickly silenced him with your lips, your hands working double time to undo the buttons of his shirt. You deepened the kiss pulling him by his tie, while grinding against him ever so slightly. He broke away from the kiss, panting; his eyes wide, an unknown emotion swirling in the midst.
“Oh sweetheart.”he growled, “You’ve awoken the beast, now.”
With that, you were lost in a frenzy of movements. He nearly ripped your dress off, throwing you on the bed, caging you underneath his body. Lowering himself, he nipped and sucked at your neck, your collarbone, your breastbone, his voracious tongue leaving fire in its wake. You gasped, fingers making their way to his messy locks. What had started off as a game, a new target, was quickly becoming something more, and that thought scared you.
Eyes on the prize, sugar. Let him lead.
His tongue was drawing circles on the tattoo at your abdomen, while his fingers were at your core, his thumb lightly nudging your clit. Jesus. Your hips moved of their own accord, tugging at his hair in silent plea. Looking up, he saw your need and whispered lasciviously,
“I’m gonna make you scream till all the other floors know my name, sweetheart. Just need to get you nice and ready for me. Wouldn’t want to break my promise now, would I?”
With that, you felt your entire focus shift to your core, as his intrepid tongue drew patterns on your clit, his digits moving within your wet channel. You groaned, tugging on his hair, bringing him closer to where you wanted him. You felt your walls tightening, the coil in your belly ready to unwind. He withdrew his fingers, moving up swiftly, gazing into your indignant eyes.
“Only time you’re gonna come is on my cock, sweetheart.”
With that, he thrust himself inside you, your walls engulfing him. Luckily for you, Ransom didn’t do sweet, slow thrusts. He set up an unrelenting pace, spearing into you, his shaft reaching places which no man had been able to reach before. You groaned, closing your eyes, your head jerking to the side, unable to handle all the sensations he was invoking.
Grasping your chin, he turned you to face him. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. I wanna see how good you feel while I’m taking you apart.” he rasped.
Something in his voice made you break; making you almost feral. You pushed on his shoulders, catching him off-guard for a minute, enough to push him on his back and straddle him.
Leaning down and catching his lips for a kiss, you whispered, “You should have the best view for a show like that, then.”
You sunk down on him, moaning loudly as you engulfed him to the hilt. Holding onto his hands for support, you began riding him for all your worth. Ransom watched on with awe, his eyes mesmerised by the sight of you; your eyes closed, mouth slack with arousal and your breasts bouncing with each bob.
You were quickly reaching your peak and Ransom could feel that too. He planted his feet down on the mattress, thrusting upward, meeting you thrust for thrust. Your thighs started quivering, an intense pressure building up with each thrust.
“Come on, come for me, kitten.” muttered Ransom, through gritted teeth.
You threw your head back, screaming as you reached your peak, raking your fingernails across Ransom’s chest. As your walls clenched around him tightly, Ransom grasped your waist, holding onto you as he thrust upwards, chasing his end.
Leaning down, you took one of his buds into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as you met his eyes.
“Come for me, tiger.” you said huskily, tugging on his lower lip.
Ransom grunted and cussed loudly as he poured himself into you, his grip on your waist tight as he held you in place till he filled you with every last drop. Rolling off him, you watched him catch his breath, slowly drifting off, his arm encircling your waist as he went deeper into slumber.
After a few minutes, you checked on him, just to be sure. He was out cold.
You smirked. Alright.
Time to start Part 2 of the Plan.
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Ransom woke up, feeling satisfied and smug. Yet another conquest down. He didn’t understand why women played these games women loved to play with him. Smirking, he looked over to look at you, but was surprised to see your side empty.
He frowned. Getting up, he checked the bathroom. Empty.
She left without even giving her name. Ahh, well, not the first time this had happened. Moving to check his phone, he noticed his wallet open, with all the cash missing.
Oh, so that’s why she left. Wow, what a surprise, he thought. Good thing she didn’t leave a name, for she was no more than a common whore, he thought, puling on his pants.
He was sorely mistaken though.
As he walked past the attached common area, he saw something which made him stop in his tracks.
The safe was wide open, with all of its contents gone. Every last thing.
He stormed into the area, his anger surging with each passing second. He couldn’t give less of a fuck about the goddamn valuables that were missing. But she had taken something which had taken him 3 fucking years to get.
She had stolen the documents; not just any documents, but the very ones which would have bought the Langleys’ silence and their company, making Ransom a very, very rich man. All gone, because of a quick fuck.
The bitch had stolen his ace of spades. And he would make sure that she would suffer.
Ransom would make her pay. By hook or by crook.
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A/N: Eeeeek, I was too nervous to put this out ughhhhh. Also, I have a taglist now, if you’re into that sort of thing. 😅 (link is also available in my bio)
Tags: @donutloverxo @ozarkthedog @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @readermia
#shamelesshoesforchris#chris evans x reader#chris evans smut#chris evans#chris evans blurb#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x you#chris evans x ofc#chris evans x reader insert#chris evans x woc#chris evans x fem!reader#chris evans x female reader#steve rogers#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fanfic#cevans smut#cevans#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x ofc#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom thrombey#ransom drysdale smut#ransom drysdale x woc#ransom drysdale x fem!reader#knives out#knives out fic#knives out fanfiction#ransom thrombey x you#hugh ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale fic
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Of Starlight
A/N: Enjoy ❤️
Warnings: mentions of blood
Word Count: 1847
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Chapter 14: Starlight
God, not this again.
The front door to the Academy was thrown open by (Y/N), allowing Allison and Diego to carry Five inside, the latter holding his feet and leading them backwards into the parlor as the former held him under his shoulders. (Y/N) followed close behind after shutting the door, her ragged breaths almost impossible to regulate.
Please, not this again.
“We should have taken him to the hospital.” Allison whispered.
“A kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions.” Five slurred in his half conscious state.
“Yeah, well, so does the murder shrine in Harold Jenkins’s attic.” They shuffled into the parlor, where Five was laid across one of the couches. (Y/N) immediately knelt beside him as Allison took off her jacket and bent down next to her. “He’s still losing a lot of blood. What do we do?”
“We gotta get the shrapnel out.” Diego answered. He suddenly caught sight of something. As his face dropped, he was quick to leave the room. Allison watched him go with a frown.
“Diego, where are you going?” Calling out to him was useless, he’d already disappeared. Her eyes trailed down to her sister, who was shaking from head to toe as she watched Five’s chest rise and fall. She was frantic and jumpy and she would be of no use to them like this. Placing a hand on her shoulder, and apologizing for making her jump, she whispered, “(Y/N), I need you to do something for me. We need to get the shrapnel out, so I need you to find something to help us with that. Okay? Can you do that, (Y/N)?”
“I-I can’t leave him. I can’t leave him, Allison.” The girl sniveled.
“It won’t be for long. Just… Just go upstairs and find something, okay? Come back as soon as you do.” Allison watched her sister stumble to her feet and bolt up the stairs. In truth, she just needed the girl out of the way until Diego got back to help. If she had actually managed to find something useful, well then, that would just be a bonus.
Please, please, please, not this again. I can’t do this, I can’t fucking do this again.
(Y/N) was aimlessly running down the hall where the bedrooms were, in search of something, anything, that could help. She had been so blinded by her panic and tears that she hadn’t been thinking clearly. Tweezers? Would tweezers work? Would tweezers fucking work?! She burst into her bedroom and flung to her vanity, knowing she had left tweezers there when she moved out. She searched the vanity and the first, second, then third drawer of her dresser before pulling out exactly what she was looking for. It’s dirty. It’s been here for years, she thought. She was in the bathroom within seconds, cleaning the tweezers the best she could before flying downstairs. When she entered the parlor, though, no one was there. There was a dent in the couch left by Five and Allison’s jacket was still hanging on the arm, but that was it. No other sign.
“Guys?!” She called out. Receiving no response, (Y/N) left the parlor and began searching. She checked the infirmary, the basement, even the kitchen. “What the fuck…” She muttered before making her way back upstairs. Her first thought was to check Five’s bedroom. Peeking in, she saw… Grace. She was back and taking care of Five, as if nothing had ever happened to her. “When did you guys get in here? I was literally just up here.” She asked as she stepped inside. Allison and Diego turned to her and began to answer, but she drew their voices out as her senses settled on one person. Grace had just begun patching him up when she came into the room, the boy now asleep. He looked so calm, so peaceful, so unbothered by everything that had been plaguing him since he got back to 2019. She could get used to seeing him like this everyday, minus the shrapnel wound.
“Five…” She quietly wept as she joined his side. Sitting on her knees, she rested her cheek on his sheets and watched him evenly breathe. Her (e/c) eyes were thoughtful, pensive.
“(Y/N), I think we should give Mom some space to work.” Diego whispered. The girl didn’t even react. Allison sighed and placed a hand on her back.
“Come on, sis, you need some air-”
“What I need is to stay right here. I’m not going anywhere.” (Y/N) turned her head to Allison. The woman gave her a stern look.
“(Y/N), come on. I know you’re scared for him, but I think it’d be best-”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She snapped, quiet yet venomous. Her eyes were cold and one even twitched as she set her jaw. Grace even hesitated. Raising her brows, Allison nodded and backed away.
“Alright, then…”
And with that, Allison and Diego slowly left the bedroom, standing just outside. Turning back to Five, (Y/N)’s entire demeanor changed. Her gaze softened and so did her jaw. Her hand gently ran down his left arm until she reached his hand, gingerly lacing her fingers with his. “Mom, will he be okay?” She murmured. Grace gave her a smile as she tore off some gauze.
“He just needs rest. I bet you could help with that. Make sure he gets a good night’s sleep?”
“Of course…”
“I know you can. You’ve always cared an awful lot for him, dear.”
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“Dad, why are we in here?” (Y/N) asked as she stepped further into the empty, dark room. The only response she got was the door swinging closed and the click of the lock. She rushed forward and banged on the door. “Dad! Dad, let me out!”
“You will not leave this room until you have successfully contacted Number Five through your clone.” Reginald’s voice sounded behind the heavy door.
“M-My clone? I-I didn’t-”
“Child, do not think that I did not see you summon that clone.”
“But I need the clone here to know anything!”
“You are growing to be one of my greatest disappointments, Number Eight. You have not reached your full potential. You do not want to. If you fail to contact Number Five, then at the very least this will be your chance to improve.”
“W-Wait. Wait, Dad!”
“Your dinner will be brought to you.”
His footsteps echoed down the hallway. She vaguely remembered a room like this when she was a small child, but this one was much different. This one had no light, no window. She was in complete and utter darkness. Letting out a sob, she smashed her fists against the door repeatedly. Even as blood leaked down her fingers, she didn’t stop. “Let me out! Let me out of here!” She sobbed, sinking down to her knees.
Three days. That’s how long she had been in that room. No light, no conversation, and no progress. For three days. The only joy she could recall was Grace bringing in cookies for a snack, but even then, they weren’t allowed to speak to one another. The fourth day had been the day she heard a voice.
“Delores.”
Her head shot up from where it was resting on her knees. Delores. Who the hell was Delores? Surely, she was beginning to lose her mind.
“Starlight…”
She was definitely losing her mind. By the fifth day, she was willing to accept that she’d be stuck in this godforsaken room for as long as she lived. She wouldn’t put it past her father to keep her in there until she died. (Y/N) had no idea what time of day it was, but she was so exhausted. Laying on her back and closing her eyes, she tried to drift off and avoid her solitude. Once her breathing fell into a slow pattern, her chest felt as if it was being pushed down forcefully. Images flashed through her mind so fast she couldn’t keep up or make out any faces. The visions settled on one. A boy had been pulling what she assumed was a cart or a wagon by a handle. Her gaze moved down to her legs that were crossed politely in front of her, hands clasped in her lap. The stranger before her was dressed in warm clothing, but she hadn’t felt any chill on her skin. The stranger stopped walking and took a deep breath before looking over his shoulder at her. She squinted to get a better look at him. Her love furrowed his brows in confusion. “What?”
“Five?” She whispered. He jumped, startled, and dropped the handle of the wagon she sat in. Suddenly, it felt as if every breath she ever took was being sent back into her lungs. Gasping, (Y/N) sat up. Her hands quickly slapped onto the concrete floor of the pitch black room she had been inhabiting for almost a week. As she caught her breath, the door beside her groaned. Light poured into the room as Reginald swung the door open.
“Anything to report, Number Eight?”
“Dad!” (Y/N) stood to her feet and ran towards her father, the man immediately backing up a few steps. “Five, he- he was- He looked right at me!”
“I will not tolerate any deception.”
“No! I swear, Dad! He was alone. I don’t know where, but he… h-he’s still alive!”
Her father didn’t have an immediate reaction to her words, only studying her swaying posture, her wide eyes, her twitching hands. Clicking his tongue, he turned away. “Very well. Grace, get this child to her room.”
“Yes, sir.” Grace grinned and gently held (Y/N)’s hand, briskly walking her to the first level of the house.
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The two now alone, (Y/N) was laying beside Five in his bed. Her eyes watched his every movement, not that there was much to observe. His chest rose and fell at a steady pace, that was enough for her. Her head was resting on his shoulder and her fingers traced the collar of the pajamas he now wore. “Why do you scare me like this?” She muttered to no one. Five, perhaps, if he would’ve been listening. “All I want is for you to be safe… to be here. You’re making that so hard when you’re running around, getting shot and not telling anyone. We care about you, I care about your stubborn ass…” She gently kissed his shoulder. “I love you… so much. You better be ready for that when you wake up, bub.” Reaching up, she let her fingers ghost over his dark brows, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips, until her hand cupped his cheek. She knew then that she made the right call not to read his note. She had a pretty good idea of what he wanted her to know. And she’d be glad to assure him the feelings are well reciprocated.
Her heart was his, and rightfully so. Forever and always.
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Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @narikyuwu @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @call-me-starstorm @rev-enviadhell @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men
#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy#umbrella academy x reader#tua#tua fanfic#tua x reader#tua five#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#number five#number five x reader#five x reader#of starlight
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Russian Roulette
Spencer Reid x Female Unsub Reader
Thanks to my beta readers! @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories
WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUT, MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING
Includes: Suicide, Attempted Suicide, Toxic Relationship, Gun kink, Angsty smut -There is no specific dominant person in the smut-
A/N: Please do not read if you are easily triggered or under the age of 18. This was really difficult to write but I am really happy the way it came out! I have a playlist I made for writing this if anyone is wanting it just ask! My requests are open for basically any character you can think of, I want to branch out and write lots of characters!
Word count: 3.2k
Masterlist
——
The warehouse that I had found myself masking my location in was in no doubt the most ghastly place I had chosen yet. I wasn’t sure what drew me to the abandoned depository, maybe I had subtly acknowledged to myself that I was at the end of my rope-I knew I couldn’t run forever. The smoke colored walls matched the ashes dropping from the cigarette I had lit to alleviate my anxiety. The cat and mouse game I had been playing with the team that was on my trail was coming to an end. They had an extra vendetta set out against me since I cruelly betrayed the trust built between us. Polluted air swirled around me as I dug my nose in a book, trying to distract myself from my impending doom.
A noise drew my thoughts away from Catcher in the Rye that I had been reading while sat on a shitty mattress, practically the only furniture in this hole in the wall. My manicured nails snuffed out the cigarette into the bed and discarded the paperback, knowing that this was the start of the end. The double doors swung open as the recognizable silhouette Dr. Reid, his shadow was tall and lanky, with noticeable wild curls that looked as if he had rolled out of bed. He finally graced my eyes with the details of his figure, every step he took had lingering hesitation. It had been weeks since I had last seen him, he looked considerably more tired since he had last graced me with his presence, purple dark rings sat under his eyes, his hair even more disheveled then normal, and his clothes lacked the crisp ironing that he usually sported. I hated that I was the one that had caused his disheveled state, I had found a kindred spirit in Dr. Reid. It seemed like we were made for one another, our interests were exactly aligned, the only major thing that separated us was my penchant for murdering people. He was the first person I had felt connected to since my mother and it pained me to see that my betrayal had obviously weighed heavy on his mind.
“I see you finally found me.” I stated nonchalantly as I stood up, he was standing as far away as he could, from my observation it was evident he was disgusted with me but he was still drawn to me like a moth to a flame. He nodded solemnly, the words that he wanted to speak seemed caught in his throat, so instead his eyes bored into my soul. We stood in contemplation just staring at each other, we were only a few feet away from each other but it felt as if we were worlds apart.
“Was it ever real?” He finally spoke up in a shaky voice, his lip quivering in either anger or sadness. “Did you feel what I felt?”
“I hadn’t been real to anyone in a long time until I met you.” I spoke honestly, though I wasn’t sure if he believed me.
I felt the memory of our first meeting flash before my eyes, a murderer had crashed into my hometown, killing important people with checkered pasts. Politicians, lawyers, and police officers- no one was safe. My job as a therapist put me straight into the cesspit of what I viewed as the worst of humanity, slimy high ranking fixtures of the community. I often felt my skin crawling as sick human beings put on a facade of perfection hiding their nefarious deeds behind closed doors, so I began taking care of them by slitting their throats in the dead of night.
When the BAU rolled into our city they immediately put everyone connected with the victims into protective custody. There wasn’t an immediately obvious motive so the team had collected anyone with an important role putting each person with a specific team member. I had been put with the genius of the team Dr. Reid. The stay in the safe house with him made our relationship blossom, we shared interests, hobbies, and even our backstories (I had edited mine a bit so they wouldn’t catch on). Usually I viewed the world as black and white good or evil and until I met Dr. Reid I hadn’t felt grey before just a dark cesspool of no emotion.
I had never even spoken his first name, I had told him that- “Someone who earned 3 PHDs should have their achievements recognized all the time.” I still couldn’t deny these strange feelings that welled up inside of me, no matter how hard I tried to distance myself.
When I had been spotted by the doctor running from the scene of a crime I could practically hear his heart break and to be honest mine did too. I never wanted him to see this side of me that I kept buried, I had wanted to stop for a while even after that first kill but what had first started out as vigilantism turned into a compulsion to kill.
His screams broke me out of my reminiscing my eyes snapped up to see the doctor holding his gun, pointing it straight at my heart.
“WHY?! Why you?” He broke out of his previous calm facade, letting me in on the anger I had stirred underneath.
“You know the profile Doctor you tell me” I asked, though no answer was given.
The gun was shaking in his hands, his fury boiling over, steam was practically coming out of his ears.
“Pull the trigger Dr. Reid. It’s what we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it? Let’s skip the reminiscing. So go on. Pull the trigger.” His grip faltered, he wasn’t sure where to go from here, should he take you in? Or completely screw regulation and take out his unbridled rage on the woman who had cruelly stolen his heart by shooting her.
The weapon was lowered, his hands still shook in fury as he put it back snugly in its place. I already knew he had called his team, no matter what he felt for me before there was no way he would risk his career to let me go. Even though I had accepted the cards that had been dealt I wasn’t going to let them take me alive. Tentatively I stepped forward, wanting to gain a semblance of closeness between us before I sacrificed myself, his body was rigid in its place as our chests touched.
I pulled the gun from his his side holster, it was an odd gun for an FBI agent to carry, a revolver to be exact. My fingers gripped the curved cedar handle, dragging it across Dr. Reid’s clothed collarbones, his arms were stiff at his sides unmoving. He was unsure of my intentions with the weapon. He knew logically that I was cornered in this abandoned warehouse with no escape, and obviously I couldn’t do much with a single revolver, that’s why he had only put one round in, reserved only for my heart if the trigger was needed to be pulled. Then I softly, with uncharacteristic tenderness, grabbed the good doctor’s hand with my free hand to guide his large palms to envelope my hand over the gun. He seemed flustered, which was odd to me, his resolve of hatred had never weakened around me until now. Our hands were clasping the gun in unison, the clammy palms of Dr. Reid cradled my own as I reached over and spun the chamber to land on a random spot.
I prided myself on the ability to read people but I couldn’t ascertain the reason behind the evident hesitation in his eyes as I encouraged him to carefully set the revolver snug against my jaw. Was it possible he had developed a care for me or did this just boil down to fear of having an unsub handle his gun. His breathe was mixed with mine, I held my pattern evenly while his had become ragged, strong enough to whisp my hair away from my face. With a flick I unlocked the safety and a genuine smile graced my face, if these were my final moment I was glad I got to spend it with Dr. Reid, he brought me a strange sense of comfort that I had never known before. His whole body was shaking as my forefinger moved to the trigger- he almost looked as if he was going to cry. A resounding click echoed off the dull gray walls of my hiding place, I had momentarily escaped my fate.
Dr. Reid suddenly smashed his lips onto mine breaking me out of the brief relief. My body had grown rigid against his movements, I wasn’t used to emotional connections with anyone and they certainly were never romantic. Just the delicate touch of his hand on my hip was more care then I had ever been shone before.
My cold exterior that I had carefully constructed was now in ruins because of Doctor reid. He was the only one who truly saw who I was, past my trauma and the trauma I caused. I melted into his forceful kiss, the unspoken tension that we had created finally was boiling over. It was full of tongue and teeth, our noses bumping as we poured our feelings into the kiss, speaking without ever making a sound. My back collided with the nearest wall, dust flying off to coat our bodies, his knee parted my legs and rested between my thighs. His spare hand left my hip to cradle my cheek practically engulfing my face with his large palm, raking the soft pads of his fingertips across my skin.
The silver barrel still rested under my chin being held precariously by our joined grip, Dr. Reid’s hand left my cheek, snaking its way down to the waistband of my pants. The tips of his fingers danced at the edge building anticipation in my veins.
He suddenly pulled the gun out from under my chin and set it under his own, my eyes widened in confusion my desire vanishing by the second. I tried to pull our unified hold away from his jawline but unfortunately he was stronger then me.
“I don’t know if I can live without you” he choked out, he had used his profiling skills deducing that I was going to sacrifice myself. He spun the wheel setting the bullet in another indiscriminate position, resetting the stakes all over again.
“It’ll be ok.” I begged desperately trying to talk him away from the ledge, just because I had wasted my life didn’t mean he had to as well. I brought my available appendage and covered the outside of his hand continuing my efforts to pull the gun away from his grasp. He shook his head, tears were freely falling from the both of us, mixing together to form a salty pool. His fingers slipping underneath my encased hand finding the trigger with ease, he pulled it quickly a sickening click resounded through the stale atmosphere. Once I was satisfied that he had survived air quickly left my body releasing the breath that I had held tightly in my lungs.
Mimicking his reaction from earlier I submerged us into another kiss, this one was tinged with my anger from his reckless move. I voiced my displeasure surrounding his actions by biting into his lip, bruising the plush tender skin. A groan escaped from him, the salacious kiss was now tainted with blood from his lips mixing together in gory harmony.
Undulating my hips onto the thigh that still sat between my legs, desire snuck itself back inside of me, rebuilding what had been banished. I suddenly had the urge to remove every cloth barrier that remained between us, I needed him now. Dr. Reid clearly shared the sentiment as he started pulling on the clothing covering my body. I did my best to shuck off his plum colored blazer with my available phalanges while he attempted to snap open the front of my pants. Our hands still were glued the wooden hilt of the gun that was rooted in its spot at the edge of the doctor’s jaw. The buttons of his dress shirt popped around us as my painted nails dug into the cotton, tearing the offensive fabric from his body. With frantic inelegant movement our outer clothing was ripped off our forms, the only barrier that lingered was our undergarments. His nimble fingertips wound around to the clasp of my bra tugging forcefully the clasp broke, freeing me from its confinement.
The lace was discarded in hast revealing my breasts to him he surged forward capturing my nipple in his mouth as my hips ground into his thigh. Circling my bud he glanced upwards, taking in the sight of my flushed cheeks, hair slicked with sweat, and the gun that I had swiftly moved to my temple removing it from his mandible. Excitement prickled in my core as he meandered down to where I craved him the most, he fisted the mesh- the last remaining remnant of clothing covering my body. A tearing noise filled the space, reverberating around us as the mesh separating us was torn away from me, revealing my full form.
His deft fingers gathered the building excitement between my folds, then he brought them to make contact with my clit. He rubbed slow harsh figure 8s against my pearl, I could feel myself getting wetter- which I didn’t think was possible. The ministrations continued for a while, but I was antsy to get his fingers inside of me. A beg almost fell from my mouth when all of a sudden with no warning his fingers plunged into my heat making my body convulse around him. He curled them expertly, nudging them perfectly at my g spot making the pit in my stomach grow and spread throughout my entire body.
Our hold had started to loosen on the gun so I clutched around the revolver tighter tugging our entangled fingers to rest the metal shaft perfectly against my temple. Upping the stakes further I rapidly clicked the trigger, the gun still had not administered its bullet into my brain, making the obscene act even better then before. His eyes held fear for a moment but couldn’t help his reaction to the clicks, a deep seated groan from deep in his chest. The sensations flowing through my body almost became too much to bear as he moved his thumb to my clit. My back arched against the wall as he sunk the blunt edges of his teeth into my collarbone while flicking against my clit with his thumb, sending me closer to bliss. He must have discerned that I was close to the edge and pulled his fingers away, his knuckles bumping against my g spot one last time which pulled a pathetic whimper from my throat while screwing my eyes shut.
I heard the tell tale sign of a belt buckle clinking causing my eyes to snap open, his full body was finally on display for me. My eyes drank in the sight before me, the doctor was just as I had imagined in my dreams, not too thick but long enough that I thought it might not fit. I reached forward to pump his length spitting into my palm as I jerked him off.
“Jump.” He whispered desperately into the shell of my ear, with careful precision my legs wrapped around his naked torso as I locked him in. The gun was the only barrier that remained between us as he lined himself up to my entrance and thrusted in one swift motion, breaching my walls for the first time.
“Fuck.” The soft expletive fell from his rose hued lips on the column of my throat making my toes curl.
His hips snapped into mine starting a pace with deliberate deep thrusts, my free arm wrapped around his neck trying to pull him in as close as possible. My fingers then wound through his messy curls yanking back so I could pepper kisses along the nape of his neck earning a sharp grunt from Dr. Reid as he picked up the pace. I bit the inside of my cheek in concern as he moved the gun to be placed under his jaw again. Tears started to fall again from my eyes as I silently pleaded for him not to pull the trigger, he ignored my pleas and reset the bullet to a random position once more. His rhythm faltered as the gun clicked for the fifth time, I knew we were testing fate too much at this point and that our luck was running out.
He kept the gun in its position while he picked up his momentum resuming his previous pace. My blood red nails dug into any part of him that I could grab onto leaving red streaks down his chest, back, and biceps as he reached parts of me that I didn’t even think existed. Our eyes locked together as his cock brushed against my g spot causing me to clench around him, we both moaned at the sensation hurtling us both closer to release.
I reached my hand down to rub harshly on my clit as I felt my climax coming just around the corner, my eyes rolling back in response to the added titillation. I then dragged our encapsulated hands away from Spencer pulling the barrel inside my mouth, his fingers flexed around mine anxiously as he soft whispers into my ear attempting to save me from myself. We both had somehow sensed that it was the end, I thought it was very fitting to end my life in the arms of the only person in the world I could find myself caring about. He didn’t stop his thrusts but they were now at a slow languid pace trying to savor every last moment he had with me.
“Spencer” I moaned in bittersweet symphony as I let myself kiss his bruised lips for the last time, our tears were falling giving our kiss a salty taste. A feeling of bliss suddenly overtook my body as I came in glorious crescendo. I rode out my high before I accepted my fate, my blood pounding in my ears for the final time. The wall was painted with blood as I pulled the trigger, ending my life with a bang.
*****
The shot rang in Spencer’s ears, it took him a minute to realize what had happened and that the object of his desire was gone. He was still holding the gun as the body of his unattainable love slumped onto him in death, his face speckled with scarlet. Finally the offending object slipped through his fingers clattering on the floor as he cradled her body.
His sobs echoed the empty rooms bouncing off the the walls mixing with the police sirens in the distance.
“He loved and he loved and he lost her, and it hurts like hell”-Fleurie
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Just a post-Aeor fic where Caleb buys a house with Beau and Yasha in Rexxentrum, becomes a professor, and learns how to be a person and protect people from what he has endured.
Content warnings: Caleb's backstory (a lot of it)
Chapter summary: Caleb's mind was in overdrive. There were so many calls to make, so many spells to prepare, so many things that could go wrong at every stage of this delicate operation, so many plans and backup plans and backup plans for backup plans. He could not let the past repeat itself.
Chapter notes: Say hello to a major plot arc. Also, I did my best to figure out a vague layout of the relevant parts of Rexxentrum but I am bad with directions, so *finger guns*
Chapter title from Eight by Sleeping At Last.
****
Chapter 6: I’m just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence
Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.
“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.
“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”
Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.
The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.
“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”
“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”
“Do you want to talk it out?”
“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”
Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”
“Ja, of course.”
Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”
“I know. Danke.”
Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.
What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.
“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”
There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”
Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”
“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”
That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.
“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”
“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”
Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.
He was still losing his mind a little bit.
“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”
“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”
Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”
“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”
“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”
It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.
****
Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.
“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”
“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.
There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”
“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”
“Are you?”
“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”
They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…
Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.
Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”
“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”
Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”
As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”
“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”
“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”
“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”
“No fuckups.”
They ran.
As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.
Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”
Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.
“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”
“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”
They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.
Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.
As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.
Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”
Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”
Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.
Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”
Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”
“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”
Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.
“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”
“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.
Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.
Felix didn’t move. “Why?”
Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”
“It’s confidential.”
Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”
There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”
“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”
“All right. Lead on.”
Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.
****
Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.
Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.
“Where is he going?” asked Felix.
“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”
“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”
“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”
“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.
“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”
Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”
Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”
“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”
“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”
“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”
“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”
“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”
Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”
“Sixteen.”
Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.
Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.
“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”
“Fine.”
“What has Trent ordered you to do?”
Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”
“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”
Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”
Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”
“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”
“I… suppose…”
Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.
Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.
“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”
Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.
“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”
There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”
“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”
Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”
Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”
Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”
“What did you argue about?”
“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”
“And what did he want?”
“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”
“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”
“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”
“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.
“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.
Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”
Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.
“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”
Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”
Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”
“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”
Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”
“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”
“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”
“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.
The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.
Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”
There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”
Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”
Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”
“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”
“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”
“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”
Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.
“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”
“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”
Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”
“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”
Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”
“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”
“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”
Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”
Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.
Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.
“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.
“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”
Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.
The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.
“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”
“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”
“Do you want to talk it out?”
“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”
Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”
“Ja, of course.”
Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”
“I know. Danke.”
Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.
What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.
“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”
There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”
Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”
“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”
That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.
“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”
“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”
Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.
He was still losing his mind a little bit.
“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”
“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”
Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”
“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”
“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”
It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.
****
Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.
“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”
“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.
There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”
“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”
“Are you?”
“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”
They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…
Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.
Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”
“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”
Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”
As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”
“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”
“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”
“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”
“No fuckups.”
They ran.
As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.
Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”
Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.
“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”
“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”
They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.
Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.
As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.
Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”
Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”
Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.
Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”
Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”
“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”
Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.
“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”
“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.
Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.
Felix didn’t move. “Why?”
Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”
“It’s confidential.”
Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”
There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”
“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”
“All right. Lead on.”
Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.
****
Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.
Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.
“Where is he going?” asked Felix.
“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”
“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”
“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”
“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.
“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”
Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”
Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”
“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”
“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”
“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”
“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”
“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”
Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”
“Sixteen.”
Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.
Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.
“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”
“Fine.”
“What has Trent ordered you to do?”
Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”
“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”
Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”
Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”
“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”
“I… suppose…”
Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.
Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.
“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”
Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.
“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”
There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”
“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”
Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”
Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”
Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”
“What did you argue about?”
“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”
“And what did he want?”
“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”
“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”
“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”
“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.
“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.
Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”
Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.
“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”
Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”
Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”
“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”
Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”
“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”
“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”
“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.
The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.
Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”
There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”
Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”
Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”
“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”
“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”
“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”
Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.
“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”
“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”
Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”
“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”
Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”
“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”
“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”
Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”
Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.
#shadowgast#caleb widogast#professor widogast#critical role#astrid beck#eadwulf grieve#fanfiction#my fics#cr2#the pomegranate's professor widogast fic
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