#matt was away because his wife was expecting but he dropped by after the case

[cecedownbad]

Hold On

Summary: A missing child's case resurfaced so many memories you wished to keep buried. Sure enough, seeking comfort from the heavy feelings came by as a form of a person. [Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader] Part 2.

Warning: Child abduction, death of a child, angst, no Y/N, made up last name: Cyrus, made up case, light fluff, hurt/ comfort, not too romance-y but alluding to it, not proof read, I don't think the mystery/crime aspect is good but let me hear thoughts guys. Something extra in tags, read after the story.

Word Count: 4.1k

Part 1

I'm so sorry this took so long, my exams, mental health, projects, assignments allll just rolled in the past months, and I've been doing everything to stay on top of writing. It's rushed towards the end but with all that's going on I hope it's okay. If anyone is up for part 3, I'm all for it .

Enjoy

"Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it."

-George Santayana

'Okay, let's see, Conrad Miller, 16 years old, went missing on June 12th, 2007. Last seen by the local church with one of the volunteers, she was questioned once but was never linked as she had a solid alibi, her name was Grace Cyrus.' Tara paused. 'So she took Conrad, no she definitely didn't just take him, poor kid is definitely not okay.'

'Right now Stephen is our priority, the anniversary of Steven's disappearance is in 4 days, so what does she want with him now?' You pace in the room, spinning a pen you grabbed in your hand. 'I think that's something only you can answer, what happened 4 days prior to Steven's disappearance?' Tara pondered, she sat down, looking at you, intent on finding answers. '4 days prior…that was the day my dad— Daniel had come to visit, they, Grace and him got into a fight and Stevie, Steven tried to "protect" Daniel in his own way, he thought Mom was going to hurt him…'

Was it then that this all weighed down on you? Words long lost had started pouring through the cracks of memories locked away. You were never in that station in that moment, no, now you were back there.

'Stevie, get back here! We can't stop them!'

'No! No let go! I don't want Dad to go, Mom's going to send him away!'

'Steven!'

No matter how hard you tried, he slipped from your tensed grasp, landing right between two enraged adults.

Pacing the floor helped gather your thoughts, a little better.

'What was the very last thing she said to you when you left?'

The thought of how it all ended passed through your minds, each time much like a bullet to the brain but you push it all down, now wasn't the right time for you. 'everything okay there?' Tara asked you, it's only been a few minutes since you and Tara confronted the idea that Grace might have done more than anyone could have put together.

'Yeah just a lot going on in my head, I think I need a breather.'

'Hold that thought, JJ and Luke are back with Daniel,'

Your hand now wrapped around the empty coffee mug, a dad you haven't spoken to for the last two decades, what would you have to say? or better yet, what would he say to you? This isn't an official reunion, it's an interrogation and who knows what will spill out of your mouth if you see the very first man in your life that disappointed you, taught you that having a person in your life was enough to make you fall apart.

'JJ and I will go in first, you sit tight.' Tara patted your shoulder giving it a good squeeze before heading out the conference room.

It was soon after that Rossi, Reid and Emily came back in, all three harnessing disappointment with their stride. 'Hey, what happened?'

'Well, Rosa was not in her home, we searched the house and by the looks of it, she hardly came back there.' Emily sat down with her legs crossed. 'but, her room had keepsakes, maybe from the time you lived with her?'

'What did she have?'

'She had pictures, some old folded drawings, and the weirdest one, an old juice box.' as Emily finished, you sat up from your chair, 'an old juice box? Do you remember what flavour?'

'I think it was Apple? Why? Does it have something to do with Steven?'

'…'

'Cyrus?'

'That, uh, it's nothing, I think sentimental feelings do surface no matter what kind of person you are.' You began fidgeting with your sleeves, your mind now slowly began recalling events that transpired long ago. 'Is there something else? It looks like you aren't sure about something.' Rossi eyed your movements, he knew something was keeping you. 'My mother, she'd never show any sign that she felt remorse, not even as far as I could remember.'

'Okay Reid, stay with her, I'm going to check in with JJ and the rest. Rossi? Do you mind?' soon after, Rossi and Emily exited the room, leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. 'Could you tell me what kind of person your mother is?' Spencer sat down right before you, urging you to take a seat right next to him and you did.

'She was an uptight woman, she loved to be in control of her life that meant being in control of mine too, it's why I left. She loved being seen.'

'Being seen? What do you mean?'

'She was always a respected figure no matter where she went, be it at work or in the neighborhood, she pushed for that at home too. When Steven had disappeared, I would always remember how she would tell me he was in a better place, and that if I do anything to disobey her or question her authority, I would be punished.' your head hung as you remembered more, 'I would study, day and night, that was the only life I knew, if my grades dropped by a mark, she'd lock me in my room, made sure I only had books on my desk.'

'Did Daniel ever drop by after what happened to Steven?' Spencer asked gently, 'No, I never saw him after that, I thought he finally got sick of mom and left, but I see now that wasn't the case.'

'Okay—'

'You know the one thing I can't seem to remember though?' you looked up at Spencer, his eyebrows now furrowed in question. 'My mother would always say how beautiful I am, and…and that I look just like her, her very own reflection but, Spencer, I can't…I can't remember her face.' your voice sounded shattered at what came out of it. You felt the tears fall, but you couldn't turn away or hide them, Spencer saw just how much this hurts you.

'You are your own person, no one can ever take that from you, no matter what, you are you.' He held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of your palm, that gave you a sign of comfort and you smiled at him. 'Alright, let's get back to the case.' quickly wiping away your tears and pasting on a smile, which you flash at Spencer, he in turn regained a more unmoving figure. 'When you said Rosa knew that Steven would never come back, what did you mean?'

'I was only a kid but to me it felt like she already knew that Steven had maybe...and all I could remember was a frown anytime I even remotely related to Steven.' You return with an answer. It was then the phone on the table went off.

'What is it Garcia?'

'So I dug into Daniel a bit more, and you aren't going to like this, so he was actually never in Bakersfield until a week ago, before that he was working as a cab driver in Nevada. He was in Nevada for a long time, but he touched base sometime in 2007, in the month of June. Looks like he tried several times to contact his ex wife but she never entertained any of it. What is concerning is that he was reported of stalking a young boy, said he mistook the boy for a boy he knew and he meant no harm but he was fired from his workplace and when was that? A little before coming over to Bakersfield.' Once Garcia had informed both of you, it was then JJ, Emily and Luke walked back in.

'What did the boy look like?' Spencer asked, 'I sent his picture to your phone.'

'Thank you Garcia.' You picked up your cell and scrolled through to find the image.

'No problemo.'

Upon quick inspection, you could tell at a glance the young boy and Steven shared a few similarities, nothing too obvious except hair colour and facial structure, age is the more obvious factor.

JJ walked in, arms crossed, she sighed but began asking what Garcia checked in for, 'Looks like Daniel was fired from his work place prior to coming to Bakersfield a week before Stephen's abduction.' You informed the three.

'If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a trigger for him.' Emily began, 'Yeah, I agree.' and Luke followed suit.

'So he not only gets rejected by his ex-wife, but fired from his work place for stalking a boy that looks like his son, then he goes and kidnaps a boy that Rosa seemingly dotes on? Something doesn't add up.' JJ looked on with confusion. 'How did it go with him?' you asked finally.

'Said he had something vital for the case but he would only discuss it with you.' Emily sat down, her voice already etching with exhaustion. 'He's hiding something and my gut is saying it can't be good.'

'I'll go talk to him.' You were close to leaving the room, but Emily had halted your motions.

'Wait,'

'Yeah?'

'Reid will go with you, Tara might want to step out.' You gave a quick nod to Emily's order.

Every step to the interrogation room, you could hear the pained voices of yours, more precisely, from when you were a child. A young girl, alone in a room with nothing but her thoughts, you swallowed hard as you stood by the entrance of the viewing room. When you entered, you let Spencer call Tara from the interrogation room to the viewing room. 'No matter what, don't give in to his requests, you need to break him down, and if you ever want to leave, you can.' Tara gave you a small nudge and she stayed back in the room.

This was it, you let Spencer lead you into the interrogation room, allowing him to get there before you creeped on behind.

'How many times do I need to tell you people? Can't you bring my daug—you, your—'

'Let me be very clear, you have something vital for this case and I'm willing to hear you out, but say or do anything and you will be escorted out of the door by agents, understood?' the firm voice you let out hid every sorry cry that was wailing in you, having not seen your father for 20 years was a shock but not something that should be seen. 'Look at you, what it's been 15, 20 years, oh my beautiful little angel, I missed you.' honey coated words slipped from his mouth and every cell in you twisted in anger and contempt, 'Mr. Carter, the case.' Spencer stepped in this time.

'Always in such a hurry, well, since you brought my little girl. I know where the kid is being held.' He sat there with no remorse, no care that a child, close to the age of the son he lost years ago, was missing.

'Where might that be?'

'I can take you there, but I'll only go if she goes with me.'

After so long, he cares or at least that's what he's showing but you knew what he was playing at, he thought he could get away light just because his flesh and blood was in the justice system, what a sorry bastard.

'I think we're done here.' Spencer had got up from his chair but you stayed seated, deal or not you wanted to break the man in front of you and that was what was nailing you down to your chair. 'Mr. Carter, what good will it do if I went with you? Was it not enough that you came in here demanding to see your daughter about a case I know damn well you don't care about?' you pressed, choice of words were clearly targeted but your composure remained cool. 'What do you mean, you know what happened to Stevi—'

'Your son that you never bothered to report missing? I don't believe you have a right to bring that up, Sir.'

'Now listen here—'

'In the time Rosa had left you behind, you did nothing but fail to bring yourself together, I have a question for you, what were you doing on June 12th, 2007? Why did you come back to Bakersfield prior to that date?' you swiped through the tablet that Tara handed to you, it contained everything Garcia had found including some case files. 'I don't know why you're asking me that, don't you have the life of a boy to save?' He avoided it with such harshness, you only wanted to pry further but somehow it felt like you knew the answer, but the words never fell into place.

'Answer the question Daniel.' Spencer sat back down now jabbing at him as well. 'I just had someone to meet, is that really so important?'

'Why did you need to meet them? Did you coming back here have anything to do with Rosa Cyrus, your ex-wife?' Your slowly tapped at the desk, it was a timed beat. 'I did visit her once but that—'

'Were you aware that a teenager was reported missing around the same time you arrived here? His name was Conrad Miller, he was 16 years old.'

'W-what? I-I don't know anything about that.'

'Really? Because it says in the case files that Rosa was the last person to have seen Conrad, but you knew that didn't you?' He flinched at the response, at this point he wore a sign that screamed suspicious.

It was then that Daniel remained silent, you believed that any word that came out of him at that point would dig his grave deeper.

You stepped out of the room and walked into the room behind the mirror. 'Now he won't speak,' Rossi now stood there with his arms in his pocket.

'We need to find Rosa and Stephen soon, the man is hiding something and Rosa is the key to finding out why.' Rossi took the words right out of your mouth, looks you both knew what he was playing at.

'I think I can help with that, how much can you guys bet on a gut feeling?' You asked the three of them, weary of their answer, 'At this point? I'll take it.' Rossi let out, the two soon followed. 'Rosa will most likely be at the house we used to live in, which is not in this area, I'm hoping that she's keeping Stephen safe,'

'Safe? How come?' Tara asked you, 'Daniel here, came a week prior to Stephen's abduction, not only did he lose his job before coming here, he needed to have a reason to come here,' you deduce.

'His reason being Rosa? But wouldn't that not trigger Rosa?' Looks like you still needed to elaborate your theory, so you continued. 'It did, Rosa having heard that Daniel came here must have caused her protective instinct to kick in, call me crazy, but I think Rosa is keeping Stephen away from Daniel.' you finally let out a sigh, your palms clammed from sweat but if you were right, the little boy you came here for was safe.

'A mother's protective instinct, I'm guessing that something happened 20 years ago that she didn't agree on, which caused her to completely reject this guy, I'll have Garcia send the address of her prior location.' Rossi curtly exited the room, Tara followed along.

Spencer stood before you in silence, you didn't register any movement from him because all your focus was on the man, sitting on the other side of that glass.

'You can go on ahead, Reid, I need to talk to him.' 

'But I can't let you go in alone...'

You huffed, your eyes did what it could but meet his but looking away won't make what you want go away, 'Given the chance, I might punch the daylights out of him—'

'More of a reason for me to stay.' 

Spencer interrupted, you returned with a sharp look in your eyes before you relaxed, 'Let me finish, I would want to give him a piece of my mind but I need to know, I just, he's the only one that has got to know something about Steven, maybe I can finally put him to rest.' 

It was selfish, that's what you called it, asking for just one more clue when you couldn't do anything before. Maybe now that helpless little girl all those years ago, can see her brother off. 'I need to do this, alone...'

'...' 

You stood there, waiting for something, a sound from him in response, anything at all. 'I'll wait here, being short of another agent will not slow down the rest of the team.' He'd finished but his response ticked you, it poked at the idea of a child being monitored by their parents.

'I don't need you watching my every move, Reid.'

'I'm just following orders.'

'Following orders? Do I look like a child to you? Do I need a leash around my neck too? I can handle him, he's one man!' Your voice raised, and you stared up at your fellow colleague with a ray of contempt.

'A man you can't stand being around for long, you sounded just fine in there earlier to anyone that watched, but do you want to know what I saw? I saw that you were holding back, hard enough your hands curled at his answers, your feet apart was enough for me to know that you would have given Emily a reason for you to be dismissed from the case.' He'd stated what was right, but it wasn't right to you, not right now, you don't know when it would be. 'I'll wait here, you can go in alone.'

Your feet put you in place for a good moment, his words tore right through you. He was right, somewhere in your clouded judgement, you understood he was right, but just because you understood doesn't mean you accepted it.

With a second left to pass, you turned from Spencer. All in silence, it was accepted that you had a job to uphold, no matter the personal toll.

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

The dial ups in the station, voices of police officers, movement all around you had become void. Nothing, that's what you heard when you left the interrogation room, you couldn't even hear one Agent calling out to you when you had left. Something gathered, something rotten had formed in your stomach. Your body felt hot, your head on a swivel.

You felt the acid burn at your throat, the half conscious part of you managed to drag your feet to a bathroom stall for you to expel the choux pastry you ingested.

Standing before the mirror now, you washed your mouth, feeling the remnants of the expelled food at your throat.

Nothing felt right to you, not right then, not right now. Having no mind to lose any more time, Reid waited in the conference room as you begrudgingly walked yourself back into it. You said nothing.

You dialed in Emily immediately, hoping she hadn't reached the house yet. 'What have you got for me Cyrus?' 

'I spoke to Daniel.'

'What did he say?'

'He'd been sending frequent messages and calling my mother, they met once, 2007. There was an argument and Conrad had gotten in-between the two of them, it didn't end well.' you informed her, almost mechanically.

'What did he say about Steven?' JJ chimed in.

'Steven was, he said he was never meant to be hurt and Rosa in the mess of things, covered up for him. He told me where...I know where his body is.' Your voice strained, as it got to harsher details.

Nothing came out though, you tried filling in the rest of the details but your voice was overtaken. A pleading look carried over to Spencer and he took over. 'He said that you have to ask where he's sleeping, Rosa's delusion right at this moment is that Steven would come back.'

'Okay, we'll get back to you as soon as we're done here.' The line cut. If you'd carried a boulder on your shoulders, the weight of it might be the same as your conscience. All that was left was you see a family reunited and you get the closure you've been searching for.

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

The team was back, so was the little boy, he was safe. The Turner family could now go home with their son safe and sound in their grasp.

'Nothing beats seeing that.' you stood, satisfied in a way, the others agreed in unison to your words.

'Cyrus, I need to have a word with you.' Emily called you to a secluded corner of the station, but you had no fear built in you, in fact you felt rather empty, exhausted enough to be emotionally drained. 'We found Steven...' she said quietly.

'Where was he?' you met her in the eyes, having nothing left to tie you down. 'Remains were found in the wall of a small bedroom, it looked like he was initially buried but moved there later.' Every word had struck you, the smaller bedroom was your shared one, no doubt. 'Was he, uh, covered?' a crack sounded in your voice.

It took Emily a moment before answering, 'He was...' 

The last bit of remorse. You'd promised yourself for 20 years that he was found. Part of you wanted him to be alive, maybe he ran off and just found a better life or he was on the streets, alive at least. But you knew how far-fetched that sounded, hope was the one thing you were aware that could end you. '...Thank you, can I, um, I want to be alone.'

'Of course, take all the time you need, listen, once this is over I need to speak with you, but only when you're ready, okay?' She patted the side of your shoulders, adhering to your request, she left you alone.

You let out a wavered breath, trying to breathe in and out to calm yourself. What you needed now was to mourn, you knew that but having a hard cry at this moment would slow down everyone.

Not long after, Rosa and Daniel had gotten arrested. You couldn't catch a glimpse at her face, or more accurately, you refused to see the face you'd forgotten. That didn't bother you that much, as a mother she never cared to look out for you, there wasn't any good reason to remain adherent to the details.

Bakersfield PD would have no more reason to have you stay, for now at least but before you could leave it all behind, Steven deserved a proper burial.

The Funeral was small, no relatives, just few friends from school and the BAU were attending, with Chief Marks as well to pay respects.

You stood over the coffin, looking at how small it was, how it all came to an end, all in silence. Quietly you watched as the coffin was buried, soil tossed over it but before it was over, you had to have one last goodbye.

'I did what I promised, took you long enough to come back from playing, huh? You must be tired, rest well, Stevie.' The Carnation held in your hand had been placed on the coffin, a mark of innocence now put to rest. Once it was all over, you stood, not waiting or expecting anything but just, letting the weight gradually let go of you. This was what you needed yet, it didn't feel enough, something remained in you. 

Footsteps were heard behind you, and you took a peak at the intruder before lifting the corners of your mouth to him. 'He was a handful you know, always wanted my attention no matter what, saying that one day he'd make it to the moon just so he could get me some space rock.' Spencer said nothing to your bouts of reminiscence, 'He told me once, "I'm going to be no.1, so watch me!" I thought he was being silly, Dad left right after and we were alone, it was us against the world.' It all came back, then you knew what you hadn't let go, knew what it was that made you feel utterly at loss. 

'Hey, Spencer, you don't have to do this, but, um, I...' You wanted to ask just for a bit, that little comfort that you so desperately pushed away.

Without another word, he lightly turned to face you. Your mind was too caught up on other memories that when you felt his arms wrap around you, you didn't think for that second. All it took was this to let it all go, no longer in silence but in wailing agony.

He didn't need another word, he simply knew. It was like some crazed superpower of his but it's like he's always known.

He couldn't let go.

Tagging:

@treehouse-mouse

#once again Im so sorry about the late update on the fic #the ending was a bit rushed I'm sorry about that but i hope it's okay #i actually wanted to add Matt to this but because of time constraints I couldn't so #here's a little of what happened afterwards for anyone reading tags #matt was away because his wife was expecting but he dropped by after the case #he got worried about you but you were more happy about him and his family #emily asked if you wanted to continue in the bau you said yes but she said you should take time off so you did #you and spencer have this insane slow burn office romance going on after #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #cm x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #self insert #kinda #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #luke alvez #david rossi #jj

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Somewhere to Belong | 1/3 | S.R

Gif does not depict the child’s appearance

A/N - this will be a three parter, written for @imagining-in-the-margins Family Challenge.

Part 2 | Part 3

Summary - You and Spencer have only been dating a few months when he drops the bombshell that he wants to start a family and it throws you into turmoil. And that’s only made worse he meets five year old orphan Wren Briar and is determined to do whatever it takes to adopt her. Even if that means destroying your relationship.

Pairing - Spencer Reid x BAU Fem! Reader

Warnings - found family, very brief mention of past addiction and Maeve storyline, post prison arc, age gap between consenting adults (Spencer is late 30s and reader is mid 20s), typical CM case related stuff, child losing her parents, crying child, arguing, swearing.

WC - 8.3k

Part 1

If Spencer Reid were perfectly honest, he’d never wanted for much his entire life. He’d grown used to just accepting what came his way, never letting his expectations or hubris desire more than he was given. 

Wanting for things only led to great disappointment. For example, wanting a mother who wasn’t sick and a father that didn’t walk out on them. Wanting to not have a drug addiction, or the weight of potentially developing schizophrenia. 

He wanted to not have witnessed his first love being shot to death in front of him before he’d ever had a chance to hold her. 

Maeve allowed Spencer for the first time in his life to want for something tangible. A relationship. A wife. A family. But that was snuffed out along with her life at the hands of Diane Turner’s bullet. 

He’d always liked the idea of having a family, the idea of it almost like a guilty pleasure to the young genius. It seemed so far out of reach, out of the realms of the possible for someone like him to accomplish. 

All he’d ever really wanted was somewhere to belong, something more than his mother could offer him; something deeper than the BAU could provide. Somewhere where he fit like a missing puzzle piece. 

He’d always been an overachiever, never having much trouble reaching the goals he set for himself, but that seemed to be one ideal he would never make a reality. 

He allowed himself the fleeting dream of having a family with Maeve but yet again it had been squandered, the flame of possibility extinguished before it really had a chance to burn. 

He’d spent years watching Hotch with Jack and JJ with Henry and later Michael. He’d witnessed Kate and her niece and then the birth of her own baby. Even Morgan with Hank. And later came Matt with his array of children so large it didn’t seem fair. 

As time drew on Spencer found himself growing more and more resentful towards his friends simply because they had achieved something he was sure he never would. 

And time was ticking on for him, he was much closer to forty now, his thirties slipping away in the rear view mirror, soon to vanish entirely from his vision. 

Perhaps it was his incarceration that put everything into perspective for him; maybe in some twisted way Cat had done him a favour by having him arrested. It was entirely plausible that if he hadn’t gone through that ordeal prior to the case that took place in Woodbridge, Virginia, just fifteen miles outside of Quantico, it may not have ended in the way that it had.   

It was his first day back after thirty days off and admittedly he was grateful to be returning to the BAU. He loved teaching, loved imparting knowledge but it didn’t compare to the rush of fulfilment he got when he worked with his FBI family.

Because that’s what they were, right? Family, at least the closest thing to one Spencer really had. Of course he had his mom, his biological family, but what he had with the team was different. 

In a strange way Emily and Rossi were like the parents, while Matt and Tara were like auntie and uncle and JJ, Garcia and Luke were his twisted siblings. 

Which left you. You who’d joined the team around the same time as Matt not long after his release from prison. You who had slotted into the BAU family as if you’d been there all along. 

You who he couldn’t look at like a sister the way he did JJ and Penelope without it being incredibly bizarre given how attracted to you he was. 

You’d shined a light on Spencer’s dark existence, giving him hope for the first time since Maeve. 

And maybe years ago he never would have even considered crossing that line with a coworker, maybe wouldn’t have even had the confidence to pursue you in the first place. 

But a funny thing happened to Spencer while he was incarcerated. In having his walls completely and utterly torn down, leaving him as little more than a foundation, he was able to rebuild, recraft and manufacture a whole new facade. 

This new appearance was more self assured, the walls he’d erected had locked his old insecurities out in the cold. 

Less was the innocence he’d once possessed but instead replaced by assertiveness. He wouldn’t wait around for what he wanted and hope it would fall in his lap. He would go after it and grab it with both hands.

And that’s exactly what he did with you. 

He’d told you in no uncertain terms that he thought you were beautiful and effervescent and that he wanted to take you for dinner. It wasn’t a question, he didn’t ask if you wanted to go to dinner, he told you that’s what was happening. 

You’d found his confidence to be dizzying and electrifying, and also arousing. You hadn’t even stopped to consider the ramifications of going on a date with your colleague. 

It had been the furthest thing from your mind after dinner, when Spencer kissed you outside of your apartment. You hadn’t given it a second thought when you invited him upstairs where you became privy to the true extent of Spencer’s dominance. 

It had been several months of this and as far as you were aware the rest of the team was none the wiser. 

Spencer lavished you with both expensive dates and also afterwards in the bedroom. He was a gentleman in the streets and a wild animal in the sheets. 

But he wanted more from you than you were able to give, that much became apparent two days ago when you were lying in a post coital bliss and Spencer had mumbled absent mindedly, “I want to have a family.” 

He was on the cusp of forty, it was understandable that he would be thinking of those things. But you were still young, close to fifteen years his junior and a family was the last thing you were thinking about. 

What had ensued had been a painfully awkward conversation which you would have rather had with more clothes on. A resolution hadn’t been reached, the discussion simply ended when Spencer told you he needed time to think and proceeded to leave your apartment. 

And you hadn’t spoken in two days.

With all of it whirring around in your brain you had completely forgotten Spencer was due back today and so when he strolled into the round table room, ten minutes later than everyone else and not apologising for that fact, you tried to hide your surprise by staring at the tablet in front of you.

He took the last remaining seat between you and Luke and flipped open the case file leisurely. 

“Nice of you to join us, Reid.” Emily rolled her eyes as she spoke. 

“Hmm.” He didn’t look up. “What did I miss?” 

“Uh, well, as I was saying,” Garcia shook off his slightly abrupt tone and continued her presentation. “Mister and Mrs Briar are the second couple to be killed in their home Woodbridge, both shot in the head, point blank. A week ago, Mister and Mrs Logan also met the same grizzly fate.” 

“And the police think they are connected? Doesn’t seem like a very specific MO.” Rossi frowned, sitting back in his chair.

“There is one piece of information that ties the two families.” Garcia clicked a button on her remote, casting away the crime scene photos in lieu of two pictures of two little girls. “Both the Logan’s and the Briar’s had a daughter who witnessed the whole sorry thing but were gratefully left alive.” 

Spencer skim read the file in front of him before looking up at the screen and the images of the two kids who had gone through something no child should have to. 

His eyes gravitated to the photograph on the left of a little girl with rosy cheeks and a bright smile. She had curly dark hair and expressive green eyes and Spencer felt as though she was looking right at him, maybe even through him. 

“This is six year old Freya Logan,” Garcia pointed at the blonde girl on the right. “And five year old Wren Briar.” 

Wren, cute, he thought. 

“Woodbridge is nearby, so we’ll work the case from here.” Emily pushed herself to her feet. “Y/N, Tara and I will go to the county police department and speak to the sheriff. Luke, Matt go to the latest crime scene. Garcia I need you to find the kids and get them brought in, they may have seen something that could be of help. The rest of you start digging.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement and started off on their separate ways. Emily mouthed to you and Tara to give her a minute before she left the room. 

Spencer left soon after and without meaning to you found yourself on your feet and following him. 

You trailed him to the kitchen when he grabbed his mug and started up the coffee machine. He had his back to you when you entered behind him but somehow he knew you were there. 

“Why were you late? You’re never late.” Your voice was so unsure, like you weren’t even certain you were allowed to speak to him. 

He turned slowly, leaning his back against the counter as he regarded you with his gaze. 

“I overslept.” He shrugged. 

“You never oversleep.” 

“Yeah because I usually get a decent night's rest. But for two nights I’ve been tossing and turning and when I do actually sleep, it’s fretful at best.” His tone was something akin to frustration, frustration that was clearly directed at you. 

“You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and walk off. I haven’t been sleeping either, Spencer.” You lowered your tone to a whisper in case any prying ears were around. 

“I didn’t realise wanting a family with my girlfriend would be such a bombshell.” He folded his arms across his chest, not being quiet with his words the way you were. At least the coffee percolating helped to mask his voice.

“I didn’t even know I was your girlfriend! We’ve never once talked about what we were, let alone having a family. We’ve been dating for a few months, I’m not sure I understand when this got so serious.” You mirrored him and folded your arms too. 

“Relationships are only ever going to end one of two ways, Y/N. They either eventually run their course or you spend the rest of your life together. I was just letting you know my intentions.” 

“Spencer, I’m still young. Marriage and kids is not something I’m thinking about right now.” 

“Well that's all I think about. And if you don’t want that then there really is no point in us being together. I’m not wasting my time with someone who doesn’t want the same things as me.” 

The coffee machine clicked, its sounds starting to fade out. Spencer turned his back on you and shoved his mug under the machine and hit a button. 

“That’s what this is to you? A waste of time?” You let your arms fall to your sides, feeling the weight of his words crash down on you like a tidal wave.

“You tell me.” He shrugged, not looking back at you. “I’ve made my intentions clear, Y/N. It’s up to you what you want out of this. And if it isn’t a family, then I guess yeah, it was a waste of time.” 

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it again quickly. You repeated this several times as Spencer turned with his mug of coffee in hand. He strolled past you without so much as a glance and you dumbly watched him go. 

You couldn’t even go after him if you tried as soon Emily found you and motioned for you to follow her and Tara towards the elevators. 

***

“She won’t talk to me,” JJ sighed exhaustedly, running a hand through her hair as she looked between Spencer and Rossi. “She keeps asking for her daddy. I think she’d be more open with a male.” 

The three of them stood in the corridor outside of the small disused office where Wren Briar and a woman from social services were situated. Her eyes stopped their back and forth and landed on Rossi. 

“Don’t look at me.” Rossi scoffed. “I’m old enough to be her grandpa.” 

JJ pulled a face that told him she agreed before turning to Spencer. 

“You are around her dad’s age.” JJ gave him a shrug. “And you’re great with Henry and Michael.” 

“And Jack. And Hank.” Rossi added. 

“Boys,” Spencer shook his head. “They are all boys. I have no idea what to say to a little girl. A little girl whose parents have just been murdered no less.” 

“Spence, you’re great with kids. I think she would really open up to you.” JJ was pleading with him with both her voice and her eyes. Spencer always did have a hard time saying no to her. 

He glanced passed JJ through the window and on the side of the five year old’s face. Since he’d seen her photograph this morning he had felt a strange emotion bubbling in his chest which he couldn’t quite place.

Maybe protectiveness? Did he feel the need to safeguard this little girl from harm? And if so, why?

He’d had dealings with hundreds if not thousands of kids in his years at the BAU and never felt like this before. He wanted to cushion her, wrap her in bubble wrap and take away all of her pain. 

But he didn’t understand why. 

He looked back at JJ and sighed louder than necessary to convey he wasn’t pleased about this. 

“Fine, but you owe me.” He rolled his eyes, stepping further forward and taking a deep breath before entering the room.

Her astute green eyes snapped up as the door opened, little eyebrows knitted together as she took in the man walking towards her. She seemed wiser than her years, the way she seemed to be curiously regarding him, sizing him up and assessing his threat level. 

Spencer offered the social worker a smile before focusing back on Wren. He crouched down when he reached where she was sitting on the couch so he was her height. 

She clutched a stuffed toy to her chest which appeared to be some sort of dog, maybe a cow, maybe even a panda. It was a dirty off white with splodges of black and long tatty ears. It was slightly ragged and threadbare and clearly a favourite with this little girl. 

“Hi,” he spoke softly, calmingly. “My name is Spencer, can you tell me your name?” 

Of course he already knew it but he needed an excuse to get her talking.

“Wren,” she sucked in a breath. “Like the bird.” 

“Wow, that’s such a pretty name.” His smile grew of its own accord. “You wanna know something cool?” 

She rolled her thin bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully before nodding her head, her nearly black curls bouncing around her face. 

“Y-yes.” She whispered.

“Wren’s eat spiders and insects that they find while hopping along the ground.” He wiggled his long, slender fingers towards her and to his surprise and delight Wren started to giggle.

“Eww!” she shook her head frantically. “I don’t want to eat spiders!” 

“I’m afraid with a name like that, you might have to.” Spencer laughed, her innocent giggle sending shockwaves through his whole body. 

It melted him from the inside out, as if he were made of chocolate and her laugh was a hot flame. He wanted a child more than anything in the entire world and it was killing him not to have one.

“Noooo!” She shook her head so frantically it was a wonder she didn’t make herself dizzy.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Spencer lowered his voice, leaning in a little closer to Wren. “If you can help me find out what happened to your mommy and daddy, I promise no one will ever make you eat a spider.” 

She pouted dramatically, her lip jutting out so severely it looked almost painful. She loosened her grip on the stuffed dog-cow-panda, patting its scruffy head before gripping its ears in her little fingers. 

“This is Rover,” she turned him so Spencer could see his face and confirmed it was in fact a dog. 

“Hi Rover, I’m Spencer. Do you eat spiders?” He cautiously took hold of one of the dogs paws and shook it. 

“Eww!” Wren giggled again, wrapping her arms tightly around the dog again and wrinkling her tiny nose. “Dog’s don’t eat spiders.” 

He wasn’t going to argue with the little girl that given half the chance most dogs probably would eat spiders. Instead he nodded in agreement.

“You’re right, I'm sorry Rover.” He half-smiled at the stuffed dog. “Did Rover see what happened to your mommy and daddy?” 

Wren once again held the dog tighter, nodding sadly as her eyes downturned. 

“The man made us go into the closet. I closed my eyes but Rover saw everything.” A tear trickled from her large green eye and Spencer couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and gently brushing it away.

She didn’t shy away from him, didn’t even flinch. And when he moved his hand away she grabbed one of his fingers in her own petite little hand. 

Her fingers wrapped so tightly around the digit, her fear evident in the small gesture. Her eyes were filled with tears making her already bright irises even more vivid. She looked Spencer in the eyes, keeping a firm grip on his finger. 

“He shot them. He killed them. My mommy and daddy are dead.” And with that a damn broke and her tears cascaded down her rosy cheeks. 

She let go of Spencer’s finger and fell into his arms where he knelt on the ground, nuzzling her little face against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. Tentatively he wrapped the girl in his arms, stroking back her raven head of curls and cooing to her that it would be ok. 

His eyes glanced up towards the window in the door where JJ and Rossi were staring right at him. Wren blew her nose on his tie and he shrugged lightly at his coworkers. 

“Damn, he’s good.” Rossi spoke on the other side of the door. 

“You expected anything less?” JJ smiled wistfully. 

***

When you returned to the BAU later that afternoon with Emily and Tara you were surprised to find the rest of the team, Garcia included, swarmed around Derek Morgan’s old office. 

The three of you approached curiously as the other members gathered around the lone window, clearly staring at something inside. 

“Uh, do we not have a case to be working?” Emily’s voice garnered the attention of the five other agents who spun to face her guiltily. 

You and Tara looked between their faces while they clearly decided who was going to be the one to answer. 

“You need to see this.” Luke spoke with amusement ripe in his voice. 

They parted like the Red Sea to allow the three of you to get to the window. You, Tara and Emily slowly stepped closer until the room beyond was in view. 

On the couch sat Spencer, head forward to his chest and eyes closed tightly. In his lap was a head of dark curls equally as unruly as his own, and a small body curled up next to him, clutching a stuffed toy. Both appeared to be sleeping, Spencer’s limp hand resting on the girl's shoulder. 

“That’s the Briar’s daughter.” JJ filled you all in. “Spence is the only one she would open up to.”

“The social worker got called away and he said he’d stay with her. How long they’ve been like this is anybody's guess.” Rossi added. 

“Isn’t it the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” Penelope gasped happily. 

She wasn’t wrong. It was utterly adorable. And it warmed your heart and froze it in equal measure. Spencer looked so at home with the little girl, it was only then it occurred to you what an amazing dad he would be. But it wasn’t what you wanted. You weren’t ready for a family, for a child, not like he was. 

You took a few steps back from the window, feeling your heart ripping apart in your chest. You were crazy about Spencer, you weren’t ready for your relationship to come to an end. But if this was how he saw his future, you weren’t sure you could be a part of that.

No one seemed to notice you slip away, too busy watching the man and child sleep peacefully. 

***

Wren took a shine to Spencer in the way no one ever had before. Sure he was good with kids, but with her he didn’t even seem to need to try. 

Over the next few days he learnt that she was incredibly smart, smarter than any five year old he’d ever met before. He wondered if her parents ever had her IQ checked because he would be willing to bet she was gifted. 

She was inquisitive, curious about the world around her. At her instance he’d told her more facts about her namesake, moving onto other facts about other animals and then just facts in general. 

She hung off of his every word, asking questions if she didn’t understand and probing for more knowledge. 

She was gentle and kind and even despite the trauma Spencer could tell she was a happy kid. He was sure if anyone could bounce back from an ordeal of this magnitude it was her. Wren was resilient. 

And the more time Spencer spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her. 

She liked it when he read to her so he went out and brought a ton of her favourite books and would sit in Morgan’s old office and he would read. 

He brought his chess set in, thinking her curious mind would enjoy the challenge. She did. A lot. Even if she struggled to grasp the game, she was only five after all. 

But his heart swelled every single time she cautiously lifted a piece, looked up at him with her electric eyes and whispered, “can I move this thing over here?” 

He adored the little names she gave the pieces and stopped correcting her after a while. He preferred her names for them anyway. The prawn. The horsy. The pointy head. The pretty Queen and the brave King. 

She also loved cartoons so after a quick lesson from Garcia on how to operate a tablet and download Netflix, he would sit with Wren and let her watch her favourites on the device while she rested her head on his shoulder. 

He held her when she got sad and missed her mom and dad. He let her shed her tears against his shirt and blow her nose on as many of his ties as she needed. 

He had learnt long ago not to want for anything in life but he couldn’t help himself. This small child had in the space of a few days completely wormed her way into his heart and he never wanted to see a day where she wasn’t a part of his life. 

One more couple met the same fate as the Logan’s and Briar’s before they caught the guy responsible three days later. 

Wren clung to him as the social worker tried to get her to leave, small arms wrapped around his waist while she sobbed into his side and begged Spencer not to let her take her away. 

“Spencer, don't make me go!” She sobbed and screamed at the top of her little lungs. “I don’t want to leave you!” 

“Hey now,” he whispered, crouching down to her height and wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “It won’t be forever ok? I just need to talk to Miss Carol real quick ok?” 

“I heard her talking on the phone, they want to take me away from you.” Her little lip quivered and it shattered his heart. 

“Wren, I promise you I will not let that happen ok? You just have to be brave for me and go with JJ for a moment. Can you do that?” He tucked her messy hair behind her ears.

Wren looked up with watery eyes at JJ who was smiling at her from behind Spencer. 

“You like books right, Wren?” JJ held out her hand. “I can read to you. Time will fly by.” 

Wren sniffled and looked back at Spencer who was trying to smile encouragingly at her. She suddenly flung her arms around Spencer’s neck and held him tightly as if he were her stuffed dog. He held her too, praying to gods he didn’t believe in that it wouldn’t be the last time. 

When she let go she reluctantly took hold of JJ’s hand so Spencer could be left alone with Carol, Wren’s social worker. 

Once JJ left the room with Wren, Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked at Carol. 

“What’s going to happen to her?” He scuffed his toe on the worn carpet. 

“She doesn’t have any living relatives.” Carol shrugged. 

“So she goes into the system?” Spencer felt his heart plummet.

“I’m afraid so.” 

“She’s been through enough.” Spencer swallowed, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“Unfortunately that’s kind of a prerequisite for foster kids.” Carol sighed. 

“What, uh…what if I could take her?” His words surprised even himself despite the fact it wasn’t the first time he’d considered it. He’d been thinking about it pretty much non stop since he met Wren, but this was his first time saying it out loud. “I know I can’t just take her now, I did the research.”

“You did?” Carol frowned curiously at him. 

“Last night.” He nodded. “I mean I’m an FBI agent so presumably the background checks and stuff would be easy and I know I would need to buy a bigger place with a second bedroom but I started looking at places near Woodbridge, so Wren could still be near her friends and go to school.

I know there are applications and home studies that would need to be done and I know it’s arduous and expensive but I don’t care. I know it takes time but I can wait. I can wait if it means at the end of it all she’ll get to come home with me. I’d even quit the BAU so I could be home more often. I teach in my spare time at the university, much more stable hours, no travel. I am willing to do whatever it takes.” He was rambling and he knew it but he couldn’t stop. 

Carol listened intently, taking in his every word and looking at him curiously. 

“Doctor Reid,” she sighed a little. “I’m not sure all of that would be necessary simply to foster.”

Spencer suddenly frowned at her, not angry necessarily but frustrated that she misunderstood his intentions. 

He cleared his throat, stepped forward and removed his hands from his pockets. He straightened his back and looked Carol dead in the eyes. He needed her to know how serious he was about what he was about to say. 

“I’m not talking about fostering.” He shook his head. “I want to adopt her. I want to be her father.” 

***

As it turned out, adopting a child was even more hard work than Spencer ever anticipated. 

That night after his talk with Carol and after promising Wren several hundred times he would see her again really soon, he went home and delved deeper into the ins and outs of this particular venture. 

The easy part was the fact she’d been orphaned and there were no relatives to have to give over parental rights. That was where the simplicity started and ended.

Adopting a child could take anywhere from six to eighteen months. Not to mention the fact it could cost him anywhere up to forty thousand dollars. 

He’d need a bigger home, that much he already knew and a job with more stable hours which was easy enough to achieve. 

He would have to fill out applications, go through home studies and up to thirty hours worth of parental training. He’d need health exams, proof of income, references from several people close to him. 

All relatively achievable. 

But he would also have to undergo a criminal background check. Although he had been cleared of all charges, his time in prison hadn’t been expunged despite Emily’s attempts. He would have to explain that he spent three months in a federal facility for a murder he didn’t commit. 

Also there was the very real possibility that being a single male would hinder his chances of adoption. From what he’d read it shouldn’t be used to discriminate against him, but it certainly wouldn’t be in his favour. 

If the state thought they could place Wren with a family with two parents instead of one, they were more likely to do that than allow a single man in his late thirties to adopt her. 

If there was ever a time for him not to want for something desperately, with his entire heart, it was now. But for the life of him he couldn’t stop himself. 

But the most important thing he needed to do was talk to Wren. 

She might have enjoyed spending time with him, it might have helped take her mind off of watching her parents die, but that wasn’t to say she wanted to live with him. He needed to stop getting ahead of himself. 

He took a personal day from work and drove out to the halfway house she’d been placed in for the time being. If everything went to plan she wouldn’t have to be here too long. 

The second she saw him her entire face lit up, not just her dazzling green eyes. A huge smile plastered on her tiny face and she ran at full pelt towards him. 

Her wild mane of dark curls was tied back into a ponytail and flew behind her with her speed. When she reached him, Wren threw her arms around Spencer’s waist and squeezed him as tightly as her little body would allow.

“Spencer!” She snuggled against him while he in turn enveloped her in a tight embrace. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” It was true, he had and it had only been one night. 

She let go of him before taking him by the hand and marching them both over to a nearby couch. She plopped down on it, he now noticed she had Rover dangling from one hand. 

Spencer sat next to her and she shuffled close to him, as though being near him offered her some kind of protection. 

“I don’t like it here.” She whined a little, choking the stuffed neck of her dog in tiny hands. 

“It'll only be for the short term.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But you do understand that you can’t go home, don’t you Wren?” 

Her bottom lip pouted in that over dramatic way he’d grown used to. Tears sprung to her eyes as she nodded her head. 

“I miss my mommy and daddy.” She sniffled. 

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head on his rib cage. 

“I don’t want to live here forever.” She whimpered. 

“And you won’t.” He squeezed her gently. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” 

She raised her head so she could look at him, those large, emerald eyes seeing right through to his soul. 

“How would you…do you think you might…” he trailed off, words failing him. “I was thinking, if you’d like to, maybe you could come and live with me.” 

She blinked several times at him, watching, reading him. It was sometimes hard to believe she was only five years old. 

“I can do that?” One of her little eyebrows raised curiously. 

“If you’d like to. Only if you’d like to. But I would love to have you live with me, Wren. Have you heard of adoption?” He tucked another stray strand behind her ear. 

“No.” She shook her head. 

“That’s ok, I can explain it to you.” He smiled softly. “So when a child like you, loses their parents, they need somewhere to go. At the moment you’re in foster care which is temporary. There are foster families you can stay with but it won’t be like your real home. You might get moved around between different families from time to time. 

Adoption is permanent and that’s what I would like. If I were to adopt you I would become your legal guardian…your dad I suppose. You’d live with me at least until you turn eighteen, maybe longer if that’s what you wanted. You’d have a home for as long as you needed one, a family with me. It isn’t an easy process but one I would very much like to go through if that’s what you want.” 

Again the girl blinked him, probably only really understanding half of what he was saying. 

“I had a dad. He died.” She frowned. 

“I know, and I’m not…you don’t have to call me dad. I’m not trying to replace your dad. But I would be responsible for you.” 

“Would I have a new mom too?” Her frown deepened. 

“Uh, no. No mom, just me.” He shrugged. “Look Wren, I think you are a wonderful little girl and I would be absolutely honoured to be your adoptive dad. But I want what’s best for you and if you don’t want that then-”

“Can we play chess if I live with you?” She cut him off. 

“As often as you’d like.” He smiled.

“And will you read me bedtime stories?” 

“Every single night.” His smile grew. 

“Can I have a My Little Pony bedspread?” She started smiling too. 

“I don’t see why not.”

“What about Rover?” She suddenly gasped, clutching the small dog tightly. 

“What about him?” Spencer frowned. 

“Where will he live? I can’t go without him!” She was suddenly beside herself with panic and Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“It’s a good job I’ve got room for him too then, isn’t it?” 

Her eyes lit up again and sparkled in that innocent way that fed Spencer’s soul. Her lip twitched at the corner. 

“Really?” She bounced a little in the chair.

“Really.” He felt tears gathering behind his eyes. 

“Ok!” Wren nodded. “I think we would like that.” 

Spencer wanted to collapse into tears at those words. If Wren wanted to live with him he would do everything in his power to make that happen.

He knew as he looked at her sparkling eyes and tiny pure smile, he would go to the ends of the earth for this little girl. 

He already loved her with his entire being. And no matter what the adoption process threw at him, he would make it through. He would do it for her. 

***

When he handed his letter of resignation to Emily a week later and explained his reasons for leaving, she’d quite rightly been shocked. 

But she’d also been incredibly encouraging of his newfound love of an orphaned little girl. 

He glowed when he spoke about her, happier than she’d seen him in such a long time. And although she hated to lose him from the team, she knew it was for the greater good. 

The next step was a new home, a family home, one big enough for him and Wren. Between looking at houses and starting to pack up his own apartment, he hired an attorney to aid him in his adoption battle. 

Although it was the more expensive route, Spencer decided to go down the path of independent adoption. It would mean he would have to do the work an agency would normally do but he always had been a control freak. And he was far more invested in the outcome and would therefore work harder to get Wren home. 

He visited her every day. He took books and his chess set and they spent hours together in the halfway home. He showed her pictures of the houses he’d seen and asked her what she thought. 

One in particular was a cute three bedroom suburban home with a canary yellow picket fence and a green front door. Her little eyes had sparkled when she looked at it and she jabbed her finger at the printout. 

“I want to live here.” She got a little shy as she vocalised it. 

He wondered if it was because she knew. 

The house in question was less than a block from the home she’d witnessed the death of her parents in. She probably walked it past it frequently. 

He wasn’t sure that living so close to a place that held so many bad memories for her would be a good idea, but he also thought it might allow her to feel close to the family she’d lost. 

“Really?” He asked tentatively. “Do you know where it is?”

He nodded defiantly. 

“Near mommy and daddy’s house.” 

“And you want to live near their house? Won’t it make you sad?” 

“I'm always sad.” She confessed, pouting her lip drastically. “Except when you’re here.” 

His heart doubled in size, practically leaped right out of his chest. God he didn’t think it was possible to love her anymore than he already did but she kept proving him wrong. 

“You mean that?” He smiled, tears brimming in his eyes. 

“Yes.” She nodded again. “You make the bad go away.” 

His emotions betrayed him and a few tears fell from his eyes causing Wren to gasp. 

“Oh no! Why are you sad, Spencer?” She grabbed one of his fingers in her hand and squeezed it. 

“I'm not sad.” He smiled. “These are happy tears. I’m just…I’m just so happy I met you. I wish I could make everything better for you, I wish I could bring your mommy and daddy back, I do. But I promise you, as long as I’m alive, you have a family ok?” 

With her free hand she reached for Spencer’s cheek and brushed his tears the same way he did to her. Her little fingers were soft and a little damp. 

“I miss my mommy and daddy all the time.” She whispered as though it was a secret. “But I think they would be happy that you want to be my new family.” 

God she was so smart. Way smarter than her years. He really would need to have her IQ tested. 

“I hope so, pumpkin.”

“Why do you call me pumpkin?” She sat back, looking at him curiously. 

“Because I love Halloween.” And I love you. 

“I love Halloween!” She clapped her hands together. “Can we go trick or treating?” 

Spencer chuckled, yet again tucking her rogue hair behind her ears and off of her little rosy face.

“We can on Halloween. But right now it’s March, we have a few months before October.” 

“But can we go trick or treating on Halloween?” 

“Of course, pumpkin.”

Seven months. He had seven months until Halloween. Seven months to bring her home. 

He hoped he wasn’t making promises he couldn’t keep. The last thing this little girl needed was more disappointment. The last thing he needed was more disappointment. 

After that he spent the next hour watching Wren draw pumpkins and witches and ghosts in crayon while he told her facts about Halloween. 

He left with a picture she’d drawn for him. 

It was of the house with a canary yellow fence and green front door. In front of the house was Wren and Rover who was drawn wildly out of proportion. 

And then there was a tall, slim man with crazy curls holding Wren’s hand. 

In the bottom corner she’d scrawled in her childlike handwriting: my new family. 

***

That same day Spencer called his realtor and made an offer on the house in Virginia whilst putting his own apartment up for sale. 

He knew buying a house took time but it was time he didn’t have. He’d sent off his adoption applications and the background checks were in full swing but without the house he couldn’t start his home studies which at minimum took three months. 

At least once the background checks were out of the way he would be able to take Wren out of the halfway home for a few hours at a time, supervised by a social worker of course but it was better than nothing. 

He was prepared for the questions about his incarceration and had already discussed as such with his attorney. He had transcripts from his therapist who had cleared him for duty, citing him mentally sound. 

He had Emily write a letter explaining the whole situation, how he was framed and all the gory details surrounding the case and the proof of his innocence. 

He also had letters regarding his character from people who knew him well and could vouch for the fact he would be a great dad. One being from BAU co-founder David Rossi, a name that garnered respect everywhere he went. 

And in the capacity as a mother, Jennifer Jareau who talked at great lengths about how Spencer was the worlds greatest godfather to her boys and how amazing he was with them. 

Emily, Rossi and JJ were three great people to have on his side. 

He’d done everything he could for the time being and for the most part it was now just a painful waiting game. 

His house sale and purchase seemed to be moving smoothly so in his free time when he wasn’t teaching and he wasn’t with Wren, he continued packing up his apartment so he would be ready to get into his new house the second the sale was finalised. 

His apartment was mostly boxes these days, sad, taunting boxes filled with his possessions while he waited for the phone to ring. 

On his last visit to see Wren she’d told him exactly how she would like her new bedroom so some boxes contained flat pack furniture and paint cans. 

She wanted her walls to be orange and when he’d frowned and asked her why she simply replied, “because pumpkins.” 

He couldn’t very well argue with that. 

He managed to talk her down from a bright and garish orange to more of a burnt autumnal colour. She picked out her bed along with a My Little Pony bedspread, and wardrobes from magazines Spencer had shown her and he’d purchased strings of pumpkin shaped fairy lights. 

At her insistence, he’d also brought a dog bed for Rover. 

He may be jumping the gun, wasting his money on such things when he still had a long road ahead of him before he’d be able to take her home. 

And there was also the very real possibility he may never be able to take her home. 

Honestly, Spencer couldn’t let himself think of that. If he let himself consider that outcome he would crumble. 

In such a short space of time Wren had become his entire world and he couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t lose her. 

He was packing up the last of his books when there was a knock at his apartment door. 

He spun to look at it, boxes piled so high it was like a labyrinth just to get to it. He frowned, mentally trying to ascertain a path but coming up empty. 

“Uh, who is it?” He called, trying to clamber closer.

A stretch of silence met his ears and in the meantime he stumbled over a box and narrowly avoided landing head first in another. 

“It’s Y/N.” You spoke eventually, sounding exhausted. 

He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. In all the stress surrounding him, he hadn’t given you a second thought. 

Fuck, I messed up. 

“Uh the door should be unlocked.” He called back and a moment or two later it opened.

You took a step inside, eyes quickly scanning the disarray in the room before finding Spencer’s face, poking out from between two piles of boxes. 

“Marco,” he joked but you didn’t laugh. 

“Were you ever going to tell me you quit the BAU?” You folded your arms over your chest, staying put by the front door. “And moving by the looks of things. Was I going to be the last person to find that out too?” 

“I’m so sorry.” He shrugged meekly, knowing he owed you more than a simple apology. “Everything is happening so fast. I needed to move quickly, the faster I get things sorted the faster she can come home with me.” 

Your frown deepened and he could see the confusion rolling off of you in waves. 

“What are you talking about? Who’s coming home with you?” 

He inhaled sharply, exhaled heavily. Of course Emily, Rossi and JJ knew of his adoption plans but he had asked them not to tell the rest of the team. If it didn’t work out he didn’t want them to be privy to his failure. 

But truthfully he expected them to spill the beans. He knew you’d all have a lot of questions regarding his sudden departure from the team and thought at least one of you would get it out of them. It appeared not. 

“Well, uh, I’m in the process of trying to adopt a little girl.” He shrugged and braced himself for your reaction. 

Your arms fell to your sides and your eyes doubled in size as you glared at him as though he’d told you he was going on a killing spree and not that he was adopting a kid. 

He supposed both would be equally concerning. 

“I’m sure I didn’t hear you right.”

“No, you did.” He tried to step closer to you but he seemed to have boxed himself into a corner quite literally. “You remember the couples that were killed in Virginia? I kinda bonded with one of the kids. Wren. Wren Briar. She’s in a foster facility at the moment but I’m working on adopting her.” 

Somehow the more he explained the less you understood. 

“Are you serious?” You scoffed. 

“Very.” 

“Jesus Christ, Spencer.” You shook your head in disbelief. “You bonded with a kid on a case and now you want to bring her home? Play happy families with a child who lost her parents?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do.” He tried to shuffle between the piles of boxes but was once again thwarted. 

“Do you realise how insane that sounds?” Your tone was incredulous. 

“Why does that sound insane? She needs a family and I’ve always wanted one.” He frowned at you. 

Of course he understood why you may be concerned but he hadn’t expected this reaction. 

“So you meet someone, you get married. And when the time is right you start a family.” 

“I have tried that! I’ve tried it the “normal” way and that’s never worked out for me. I am thirty nine years old, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” He was growing angry. 

“So you’re just skipping to the end? Spencer this is not how you dreamed of having a kid!”

“No, you’re right, it’s not!” He suddenly raised his voice, shoving over a pile of boxes in his way so he could get closer to you. “I dreamed of having kids with Maeve and then she was killed in front of me. Then I dared to dream of having a family with you but you shot that idea right down. It’s not ideal, I am aware of that. But goddammit I love that little girl and I will give her a home. I will be her family and she will be mine.” 

“Spencer,” you softened, his eyes wild and scaring you a little. “She’s what, five? She’s already on her way to becoming a fully realised human being. Her personality is already formed, she’s had five years of life where you weren’t a part of it and you just expect her to fall seamlessly into the role of your daughter? Have you ever even considered how hard it’s going to be for her? She lost her parents, they are dead. You really think you can just swoop in and pretend to be her father when she watched her real dad die?” 

“Get out.” He spat harshly. “Get the fuck out of my home.” 

“Spencer I-”

“No, don’t. If you’re not going to be helpful then you can leave.” 

You shook your head in sadness at him, sighing deeply. 

“I might not be ready for a family right at this second but I didn’t once say I wouldn’t want one someday. But you’re so determined to rush this, to skip to the happy ending. We could have had that one day.” 

“That’s not good enough for me.” He finally lowered his voice. “I’m in love with you Y/N, I know I’ve never said that before but I am. And I don’t want to wait to start a family because I love you. But if we don’t want the same things then we have no future. I’m adopting Wren, no matter what it takes and if you can’t be happy for me then walk away.” 

And without another word, that’s exactly what you did. You walked away. 

In another scenario, maybe even in another life you would have told him that you loved him too. 

Instead you simply walked away. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[hotchscotchh]

How bout Luke and Spence's first kiss 😳

Replacements & Kisses

Summary: Spencer isn’t sure want to make of Luke Alvez

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid, implied Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia

Warnings: referenced drinking, implied NSFW, post prison Reid, some whump but mostly fluff :).

Word count: 1.3k

Read on AO3

His life wasn’t supposed to go like this. Spencer was suffering from PTSS. That much was obvious, and honestly expected after what he had gone through. The man had been to hell and back with his whole prison experience. Being accused in the first place. Watching the only person that was even remotely friendly die in front of him. And if that wasn’t enough, the second he was released he was thrown into a case, which just happened to be that of his missing mother. Finding out that the hitman he put away was behind all of it was just the icing on top of the cake.

And if that, too, wasn’t enough, just weeks later Emily was kidnapped. Steven Walker died. With all this bullshit going on, Spencer realized that the people he wanted to comfort him most were gone. Well, they weren’t gone, but they were no longer a part of the BAU. And that was as good as gone. Derek Morgan had his wife and son, another baby on the way, he couldn’t bother him. He didn’t want to be a burden. He honestly didn’t know where Aaron Hotchner was. The man was in WitSec and then seemingly dropped off the face of the earth.

Of course, he still had JJ. Garcia. Emily. Tara. Rossi. And he took advantage of that, spending time with JJ, Will, and their children, geeking out with Garcia, just being with Emily (she has something about her that can make just sitting in silence together distracting), having debates and academic discussions with Tara, he was welcome in Rossi’s mansion (including his expansive library) any time of day (or night).

Then there’s Luke. Spencer’s still not sure what to make of the man. He knows he’s just Derek’s replacement as the “muscle” of the group, and Spencer doesn’t think he wants a new Derek. He wants his best friend back, not this “newbie,” as Garcia calls him. He just doesn’t fit. And it might be all in Spencer’s head. He might just be averse to the change and refusing to accept it. (He is.)

He slowly learns that Luke Alvez is not the man he appears to be. Spencer expected a man full of toxic masculinity, a god complex because of his strength, just another big, strong man with a big, strong ego. That wasn’t the case. Luke Alvez was completely secure in his masculinity, humble, sweet, kind, caring, and absolutelyridiculouslyincrediblygorgeous. Not that Spencer would ever admit it out loud. But Spencer Reid isn’t exactly subtle.

JJ cornered him in Garcia’s office one day when she had left them together in a flurry to tell Emily something about an ad she saw about the show they both watch. They were sitting in extra chairs that Garcia had, drinking coffee (away from the equipment, of course), and enjoying a companionable silence. Said silence was broken when suddenly JJ looked up at him, eyes wide, and declared, “You have a crush on Luke.”

Spencer spluttered for a moment, “W-what? I- I have no idea what you’re talking about, JJ.” JJ gave him one of those “don’t act like I’m stupid, I can see straight through you,” looks. He caved. “Fine, okay, maybe I think he’s a little-” (another one of those looks) “okay, maybe I find him extremely attractive.”

JJ smirked. “Of course you do, have you ever looked at him? What else do you like about him?”

Spencer just sat there for a moment, thinking. “He’s nice. He’s not at all like I thought he was going to be. He’s intuitive and smart, and- and he called me out on my PTSS once. I respect him for that. He’s been helping me out with it ever since. His dog’s pretty great too.”

JJ’s expression morphed into a sad smile. “Oh, Spence. I think you should just go for it. Tell him how you feel. He wouldn’t react badly, even if he didn’t return the feelings, though I’m pretty sure he does.”

“You- you think he likes me, too?” Spencer asked, a slightly giddy smile on his face. JJ didn’t offer an answer. “JJ, I don’t even know if he likes men. I can’t even imagine how embarrassed I’d be if I said something, and he-” Spencer cut himself off. “I don’t want to think about that. Besides, workplace relationships are strictly prohibited. And homosexuality isn’t exactly something the FBI jumps to defend.”

“Spencer,” JJ said softly, effectively cutting off his ramble. “Do you really think anyone in the BAU would rat you out? I can’t imagine anyone but us finding out about it. And I think I have a way for us to find out if he likes men”

----

That’s where they are now. Executing JJ’s ridiculous plan to get Luke drunk and have him spill all his secrets. It wasn’t going very well. He declared himself the designated driver fairly early on in the night, and hadn’t even had a beer. He and Spencer were the only members of their team that were even remotely sober. Emily and Penelope were grinding together on the dance floor (they thought the rest of the team didn’t know about their relationship, for whatever reason), Rossi and Tara were having a drunken conversation a booth over, JJ and Matt were off playing darts, which left Spencer and Luke alone in a corner booth of a too crowded bar with music thumping so loudly the bass made their table vibrate.

Spencer had expected it to be awkward, but the conversation flowed easily. Luke had steadily been moving closer to Spencer over the course of the night, and now they were nearly pressed together in the corner of that booth. “You know,” Spencer started after a brief lull in the conversation. “The point of tonight was to get you drunk and have you spill all your secrets, but here you are, stone cold sober.”

Luke laughed at that. “What secrets were you hoping to find out?”

Spencer blushed and looked down where his fingers had begun an anxious dance in their spot on the table. He had decided earlier that night that if Luke wasn’t going to get drunk, then he was just going to say fuck it and ask the man straight out. “I- it’s dumb. Never mind.”

“Aw, Spence,” Luke answered, causing Spencer to blush even redder at the nickname. “Now I really want to know. Anything that comes out of your genius brain can’t be dumb.”

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he said something he assumed he would quickly regret. He opened his mouth to speak and looked up at Luke, but when they made eye contact, it was like Spencer’s brain just stopped working. He forgot all of the words he was planning on saying, all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss this man.

So, he did. There in that corner booth, vibrating table and all. I don’t want to say it was magical, because that’s kind of cliché and nondescriptive, but it was. It was all the clichés. Fireworks. Butterflies in his stomach. And then Luke started kissing back, and it was even better. It was soft and sweet, everything Spencer had expected.

They drove some of their drunken team members home, having to call a cab for the rest as there wasn’t enough room in the car. They soon found themselves making out with Spencer pressed up against the inside of Luke’s apartment door before they fell into bed together. Spencer would be lying if he said that wasn’t magical too, or that Luke Alvez wasn’t a damn good replacement.

Taglist: @multixfandomwriter @doctorenby @sbeno22 @marsjareau @translukealvez

The form!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #Luke alvez #luke alvez/spencer reid #luke alvez x spencer reid #ralvez #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #whump #fluff #penelope garcia #Tara Lewis #Matt Simmons

[shelby-love]

KELLY SEVERIDE

Chicago's IT Lawyer And Girlfriend

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Authors note: /

"I hate this." You whisper sleepily while fighting the urge to yawn. With your head against the window you scan the area in front of you.

So much press.

"I have to go there and give them a 5 minute long statement at 6 in the morning."

Kelly Severide doesn't fear the press and easily manoeuvres his car onto the free parking space, reserved for Chicago's finest law fighters only.

The muscled arms of your boyfriend easily turn off the car and wrap around you.

Bathing in your boyfriend's cologne is just the right thing you needed to be able to fight through the day.

"You got this. You're Y/N Y/LN." You snort at his words. They have a drop of mock in them but you know what he really means.

Ever since this case got out in the public, where you're representing an Interpol agent in a case gone wrong, you've been the news' favourite plaything.

Chicago's IT lawyer, they call you. Y/N Y/LN now holds serious weight. Luckily for you, you managed to snatch the heart of this hardworking lieutenant before you became so badass at fighting the law.

"I wish we can go eat after your shift is over," You admit. "But the press has been on my tail since this thing blew up."

Kelly isn't a stranger to the news outlets, he had his own share of being in the centre of their attention.

The kiss he gives you melts you in a puddle. It makes you weak in the knees like always and suddenly your stoney facade crashes and you become Y/N. Just Y/N.

"Crush them babe." Kelly encourages. "I'll be watching the news."

"Channel 9?"

"The firehouse watches you on Channel 6?" He tells you. Kelly just found out that his girlfriend is more in the spotlight then he ever thought possible for a hotshot lawyer.

"No, no, no... Channel  6 is rubbish. They make things up." You're quick to explain. "And what's even worse... They edit me to make it seem like I'm a heartless monster. I don't wanna be a heartless monster Kelly!"

"Okay... So channel 9 then?"

"Yes! That way when I meet your friends they don't think I'm heartless."

"You're not heartless baby." He says, his long fingers tucking a strand of stray hair behind your ear.

You check your watch and realise that it's time to go. "I'll see you after shift?"

"Of course. Break a leg Y/N!" He yells once you're out of the car.

"Don't say that Kelly you know I'm clumsy!"

***

The 24 hour long shift is killing him. He spends more time in the common room than at the squad table because that's where the TV is.

After a lot of attempts he finnaly managed to get Mouch to switch the news to channel 9. Just how you told him to.

"Andy Holland. Never liked the guy." Mouch comments on the news reporter.

"Yeah like Miranda is any better. She just spreads lies." Kelly shoots back. The two channels are reporting things very differently and he's looking out for you.

"But it's kind of true." Brian agrees with Kelly. "Channel 6 makes it seem like Y/N's a monster. Andy gives her some credit at least."

"Thank you!" Kelly yells out to him.

"And why do you care Severide?" Cruz joins the discussion. "Sure she's hot and smart but there's no way you can get into her pants. Not hers."

This sparked Kelly's interest. They have no idea. "Oh really?"

Joe let's out a "mhmm" before retreating to the comfort of his bed.

At that moment, Kelly's phone dings, indicating a new message.

From Y/N [4:55 P.M]

Hey you left your wallet at my place. Want me to drop it off?

I'm meeting the client and my team at 7 and I'll be gone until the morning.

Night shift suckssss!

A smile sneaks up on his face without him even noticing. He types a reply quickly, full-heartedly inviting you to the firehouse with the simple message.

***

Just 15 minutes after the small exchange, you're outside the firehouse leaning against your sleek womanly car. You patiently wait for Kelly with sunglasses over your eyes.

You notice him jogging towards you and soon you're in his arms. "I missed you."

"We saw each other this morning Y/N."

You give him an offended look once you take your sunglasses off. "Can't a girl miss her boyfriend?"

"Yeah," He leans in for a tortured kiss, showing you just how much he missed you too. "She can."

You pull away blushing and move to grab your bag. Finally, you fish out his wallet and hand it to him. "Well. Here you go."

"Do you wanna come in?"

"Who? Me?" You're not really dressed to impress. You wanted your first encounter with them be normal. Normal as in you will dress up like a normal woman your age and act like it.

But in the outfit that consisted of a black pencil skirt, white blouse, black blazer and pointy heels you were meant for formality and formality only.

"I want them to meet you." He admits. "I realised how hard it will be to not talk about you. Everyone thinks that I'm way out of your league."

"Oh so your plan is to get me to meet them so you can brag about sleeping with me." For a second that thought hurt your heart.

"No, no, no, no... I just want to be able to brag about how amazing you are as a person. And how much I love you." He leans in until you're inches apart. "I want them to know that we're serious about each other."

He stays quiet for a moment before whispering "And also... They're fans of you."

"Well in that case." You loop your arm through his. "Let's go meet them."

***

"Hey Severide! Come see what they're saying about your imaginary girlf-" Mouch' words die right on his tounge when he sees who's on Kelly's arm. "Girlf-f-friend. Y/N Y/LN is that you?!" He points between the TV and your living body aggressively with his glasses.

"In the flesh... Mouch?" You remember his name because of the detailed description your boyfriend gave you.

"She knows my name! Oh my Trudy is going to be so happy." He puts his glasses back on and starts to work his way around his cellphone, eventually succeeding and calling Trudy Platt. "Stay right there." He tells you and dissapears. You can still hear him even though he isn't in your line of vision.

"How much did he pay you to play his fake girlfriend?" A dark haired man with an impressive mustache comes up to you. Absolutely chirping with joy, almost as if he isn't surprised at all. Mustache.

"Oh! You're Brian right? Or Otis? I don't know which one you prefer." You tell him shyly, embarrassed for not knowing what to call him.

"You can call me whatever." He wraps his hands around yours and places a kiss to the back of it. It brings slight blush to your cheeks and he sees that as the day's biggest victory.

"Okay Otis that's enough." Kelly steps in.

"Y/N Y/LN. I've heard so much about you." An older man comes up to you with glitter in his eyes. He enthusiastically takes your hand and instead of pressing a kiss to it like Otis did, he shakes it with such honor that surprises you.

"He's a fan." Otis fake coughs.

"Of course I am. Y/N I've been watching the news ever since it became public." He slowly pulls you away from your boyfriend and sits you at the long table. "I gotta say. You're great! Calm, cool, collected... A little bit cold but that's alright. My wife Cindy, let me tell ya. She loves you. Emphasis on loves."

You're lulled into his conversation that not even Kelly can get you away from him. Once you're done you realised one simple thing about the older gentleman - he loves to talk.

"Oh my my." Another voice appears by the door. "Y/N?"

"Um...hi. I'm here with Kelly nice to meet-"

The man pulls you into a bone-crashing hug. "You're with Severide?!"

The surprise in his voice and the knowing look on your boyfriend's face caught you off guard. "Yeah? He's my boyfriend."

You easily connect the name to the face. Joe Curz in the flesh.

"Hey, hey what's going on in here?" Another voice joins you and you recognise it. Truck's lieutenant and alderman, Matt Casey, joins you in the common room and stops when he sees you.

"Alderman Casey." You greet your old friend.

"Y/N Y/LN. Haven't seen you in a while." He gives your hand a firm shake for formality sake before you both drop the facade and pull each other in for a hug.

"Wait you two know each other?" Your boyfriend asks in shock. He did not expect this.

"Yeah. Matt and I met at a few events." You explain. "A few glasses of burbon and we were pronounced as friends. Didn't I tell you that?"

A pitch of guilt shoots through your body at the untold information but when you see Kelly smile you immediately relax. "Sorry I didn't tell you. Guess I forgot."

"Don't worry. How long until you have to go?" He asks you before sneaking his arm around your waist.

You check your watch. "An hour."

"Good. Let's have some fun." Kelly kisses your forehead and you join the rest of the buzzing firefighters.

When you leave the firehouse to go to work, you not only leave with the weight off your shoulders but a lot of new friends.

MASTERLIST

#chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 18)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, angst

-------

Daphne sat in a plush chair in front of a large solid wood desk. She was silent as she watched across to Mrs Grimes who was pouring over all of the evidence with silent rage. She'd gone through the file and was now on her fancy ass computer looking at the billion pictures she'd found. One of the large tinted windows in the room was cracked open, birds chirping from outside as a nice breeze came in. The weather was quite warm that day, the sun shining brightly as spring was well under way. Daphne had on a strappy black maxi dress with thigh high slits, her boots on and her deep purple hair was in two French braids. The most effort she'd put into her hair in a while. The nice weather had encouraged her to make an effort. 

She picked at her black chipped nails as she patiently waited for the older woman to look through all of the evidence. The silence was deafening and Daphne kept finding her thoughts drifting off. It had been two days since she'd last seen any of her new friends and Karen's words kept itching at her brain before she opted to ignore them. She’d had a few texts from Foggy checking in with her and thankfully she hadn't seen or heard from Matt at all. It was peaceful.

"That rat bastard! He's making a mockery of me, he's not even hiding it!" Mrs Grimes finally snapped. Daphne had sensed it was coming. She chose not to respond, not knowing what to say. Usually she would say a few mildly comforting words to her clients but Mrs Grimes wasn't heartbroken, she was just pissed at the blatant disrespect. Daphne couldn't blame her. Mrs Grimes stood abruptly, stalking over to the cabinet and pouring some drinks. She didn't ask Daphne, but as the glass full of alcohol that was no doubt the same price as a month of rent was placed in front of her, she didn't argue as she took a large pull from it. It was smoother than what she was used to but she wasn’t surprised since this wasn't the bottom shelf shit she was used to.

Mrs Grimes sat back down gracefully despite her building anger. She took a sip of her drink and looked like she was thinking things over. Daphne just waited patiently as she enjoyed her moment with the fancy scotch.

"I want revenge," the older woman said after a moment. Her voice was calm like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"Oh?" Daphne quirked her brows, curious where this was going. 

"He's making a fool of me and blatantly so. I want a divorce but there’s also another way to hurt him," Mrs Grimes mused softly. Daphne settled deeper into the chair, her curiosity burning.

"My husband has always kept the business from me, said I didn't need to be involved. But over the many years with him I've learned some things and he has no idea," she paused to take another sip of her drink. 

"My husband is a man in power. His job allows him access to a lot of private client information that in the wrong hands would be… catastrophic. But he's also a greedy leech, and I found out a few years ago that the Italian mob had been paying him. He's been selling clients information to them. Some of them would go bankrupt and others...well they just vanished, never to be seen of again. I think we're smart enough women to figure out where they went," she muttered tensely. The bottom of the Hudson no doubt. 

"Why are you telling me this?" Daphne asked bluntly. Mrs Grimes chuckled at her, seemingly enjoying the no nonsense approach Daphne often had.

"He's a criminal, assisting worse criminals to boot. I could take him down, get him locked away. His name would be tarnished and he'd have nothing left. After I divorced him obviously," she said carefully.

"Do you have proof?" Daphne enquired. Honestly, this was pretty big. The kind of thing Brett would like to hear. Mr Grimes would know all kinds of information they could use to try and get the Italians.

Mrs Grimes heaved a sigh and crossed a leg over the other.

"Not here. We have another house, he's stayed there more and more over the years and now I rarely see him. That's where he'd keep it all, in his study," she explained. Daphne pursed her lips. Another house? These fucking people.

"Can't you go and get it?" She asked pointedly. They couldn't do anything without that information and sending the cops to go and search would be useless. They'd need a warrant and she knew that would be difficult when it came to a powerful and wealthy man like Mr Grimes, who could easily pay people to sweep it all away. 

"Can I be frank with you, Ms Weaver?" She asked seriously. Daphne nodded, as if they'd been anything but during this unexpected conversation. 

"He's already taken the other house over. He has security and if I turned up they'd send me away. They have no respect. That's how I know where all his shady business goes down because I'm forbidden to go in there. I think he knows I know something. And I worry if I tried to force my way in, it wouldn't end well for me. All he'd need to do is say the word to the criminals he associates with and I'll be gone," she muttered bitterly. It did sound promising though that there was something in the other house worth hiding from his wife.

"How do we get it then? You're forbidden and it's heavily guarded, there'll be no chance," Daphne sighed. 

"That's where you come in," the older woman grinned. Daphne resisted the urge to roll her eyes and groan. Of course it was.

"My husband is throwing a ball next week, I'm not invited of course, but it's given us a way to get you in. It's mostly upper-class, no doubt some of the Italians, god knows who else. I can pull some strings, get you on the guest list. You can just say you're from a well-off family, no one will really care. But once you're in, you can try to get to his study and get what we need," she explained. Daphne was mildly impressed. It was a sneaky plan. But she also didn't like her part in it.

She stayed silent for a moment as she ran through the options. It was the only plan really, they didn't have another. She gave no shits about Mrs Grimes petty revenge on her husband but she did care about the Italians and this was another way in. That was the only reason why she was considering something like this when it could very seriously go ass upwards. Mrs Grimes watched her carefully as she mulled it over in her head.

"I know it's dangerous, which is precisely why I'm not turning up there. I will pay you handsomely for doing this and I know you can see it through," she pressed on. She scribbled something down on a piece of paper before sliding it to her. Daphne's eyes bugged out of her head for a moment as she saw how much the woman was going to pay her. Maybe it wasn't much since this was her life on the line if things went wrong but $8000 was a huge amount of money. She didn't really need it. She wasn't one for material things and she was fine how she was. She had a steady income that paid her well. She thought back to something Karen had said in passing the night she came over and it was similar to something Foggy had complained about numerous times to her. 

Daphne blew out a sigh, downing the rest of her drink.

"I have a counter offer," she proposed, a stern look on her face. Mrs Grimes nodded to hear it.

"I'm risking my ass by going in there. I have history with the Italians and one slip up, I'm bleeding among sharks. If I do this for you, then when you get the divorce, you hire Nelson and Murdock for it. You pay them the same amount you were going to pay me. And if you like their services, which I'm sure you will, you'll recommend them to your friends. But just so you know, they won't represent genuinely bad people, so be careful who you send there," she gave the older woman an expectant look unsure of what she should say. 

"I know you would have gone to some fancy ass lawyer to get it done but these guys are good and they care about their job. So much so that most of the time they take on cases for barely any money or none at all. They need that money and you need the evidence. That's my only offer," she added with a stern face. She could have taken it for herself, but why? She didn't care about it. But Foggy, Karen and even reluctantly Matt did care. She hated how despondent Foggy would get when he worried about the firm. How they were in the negatives. How he wasn't sure how much longer they'd be able to stay open. They couldn't even afford to pay Karen which is what led her to the Bulletin in the first place. And while she didn't like Matt and she'd never seen him or Foggy in action, she'd heard nothing but great things and praise about them at the station. Not everyone had money for a decent attorney, but that didn't matter to them. Everyone deserved that help. She had a chance to help with that and she was running with it. 

"Deal," Mrs Grimes settled with a nod. Daphne was a little shocked by how easy it was but then again she guessed she really wanted to nail her husband to the wall. She leaned over shaking hands with her before she grabbed her backpack and got ready to leave.

"Here. This is what I owe you from the investigation you already did. And I’ll pay for you to get a dress for the ball so you don’t stand out too much," she handed her $1000 in cash and Daphne stuffed it into her bag, watching as the woman scribbled something down on a small piece of paper. 

"I'd recommend these stores. Tell them I sent you in and it’ll be taken care of. It's a very grand affair, tell them it's a ball and they'll pick some things for you to try. I'll also put you down with a plus one on the guestlist. It might be a little less… conspicuous if you took someone with you," she murmured, gesturing to Daphne's purple hair. She squinted in slight offense but took the piece of paper anyway and put it in her hoodie pocket. 

Once again the driver had been instructed to take her home. She opted for him to drop her off down the street. Now she knew the Italians were involved in this somehow, she didn't want to chance people knowing where she lived. She didn't know if Mr Grimes was having his wife monitored or not. When she did finally arrive home, she was hot and tired. The sun was glaring through her large window by the fire escape and she opened it letting in some air since she didn't have AC. She kicked off her boots and lay on her back on the couch. She tried to run through how the night at the ball would go but there were far too many variables. She just had to hope for the best. It should be busy and filled with self important people who wouldn't think about looking into who she was too closely. Once they were all distracted, she could slip away and leave, hopefully without incident. 

She thought back to Mrs Grimes' advice on bringing someone and she grumbled. It would make her look less noticeable and if she was alone there was every chance guys may approach her to talk. She wanted to slip under the radar as much as possible. Having a date would fix that but she had no one. She wouldn't ask Foggy. Not only because he was in a relationship and it was weird even as friends, but because of how dangerous it was. She refused to ask Brett. She decided not to tell him about the intel she had until she got the proof. He wouldn't approve of her doing this and if the cops got involved prematurely then the evidence would get destroyed. Mrs Grimes would also most likely disappear and she refused to have the death of another client weigh on her conscience. 

The only person that kept coming to mind was Matt and she hated it. He would be perfect. The unassuming blind man, no one would suspect them. He also had his super senses that would prove to be incredibly useful and if things got hairy she knew he'd have her back. It would risk him exposing himself if it really came to it and he had to fight but that was the worst case scenario. She really just didn't want to speak to him though. The last time they spoke had really pissed her off and she'd been enjoying the peace of him not being around lately. Did she really want to disrupt that? As useful as he would be by her side, she didn't want to do that to herself. They'd have to blend in as a couple, dancing and being nice to each other. She didn't need the headache. 

She came to the conclusion she was better off going on her own and saving herself future annoyance when it came to the vigilante. She lay on her sofa for a little while just too tired to move. She wasn't sleeping much at all and she'd found herself going to Fogwell's gym everyday the last two days to take her frustration out on the punching bag. She always made sure to go at a time when Matt didn't tend to go so she didn't run into him. She wondered how long it would be before she burnt herself out completely.

A rhythmic knock sounded at her door that let her know it was Foggy. He usually did a weird little knock when he came to see her.

"Come in," she called from where she lay. The door opened and she glanced at the door as Foggy walked in.

"What is this? You're just too lazy to open the door and greet me now? That hurts," he pouted. She laughed but made no move to get up as he waltzed over and flopped into the armchair. 

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr Nelson?" She yawned softly into her hand.

"A weird thing just happened. We got a phone call from a Mrs Grimes, a real wealthy woman. She asks us to help her with her divorce. Her husband's a cheat and into some illegal things apparently. She says someone recommended us to her. She paid us $4000 dollars up front with another when it's all over with. $4000! Can you believe that?!" Foggy asked incredulously. 

"That's a lot of money," she murmured in agreement.

"Yeah… funny thing though, Karen seemed to recognise her name. Mrs Grimes is the name of your client and her cheaty illegal husband is the guy you've been spying on…" he trailed off, waiting for her answer.

"Small world, huh?" She smiled at him.

"Seriously? You think I don't know you had something to do with this giant heap of good luck?" He scoffed. She groaned as she sat up, rubbing her eyes a little before settling into a sitting position.

"Fine, you got me. She wants some extras for her case and offered me a lot of money. Money I don't need but I know you guys do. So I made a deal with her that you'd be her lawyers and she'd pay what she would have given me," she explained. Foggy still looked stunned and he shook his head.

"What does she need you to do that costs that much?" He asked bewildered. She sighed, wiping a hand down her face wearily.

"Oh god, is it that bad?" He asked hesitantly.

"Kinda. But since I just practically gave $8000 to keep your firm in practice, I expect no lectures from you when you hear it," she asserted with a raised brow. He nodded reluctantly, not able to argue with her. 

"The illegal stuff she said about her husband? He's in bed with the Italians. He sells them client information. She said that some of them ended up bankrupt and some just went 'missing'," she did air quotes and Foggy's jaw gaped a little.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

"She wants to get back at him for cheating. She said he humiliated her with how blatant he was about it. She wants to expose him, get him locked up but she needs proof and she wants me to get it. It's a whole complicated thing… but yeah. I'll be going to a ball Mr Grimes is throwing next week undercover and I need to sneak into his office at some point and look for proof. Some of the Italians might be there and who knows who else so I'll be dressed up and acting as a rich bitch," she blew out a breath after her attempt at explaining. 

Foggy blinked at her for a moment.

"I really want to tell you that this is a bad idea and you shouldn't go. But I agreed no lectures and you did just basically help us keep our doors open at the firm. But I will say that I'm worried. Very worried," he muttered tensely. 

"I'm honestly nervous too. But if it goes well then I'll be fine. I'll be extra careful and if it seems too hairy then I'll get out of there. I promise," she reassured. She meant it too. Mrs Grimes refused to go herself because of the risk so she'd get it if she had to duck out and try something else. 

"Okay… I guess I'll just have to accept that," he said reluctantly. She was happy he wasn't fighting her on this because it was already stressing her out.

"And you can't tell Matt," she pointed at him. He frowned deeply and sighed.

"What do you mean I can't tell Matt? He was there when Karen made the connection, you don't think he's gonna be curious about the amount of money?" He asked incredulously.

"Just tell him it was what she was paying me for the normal investigation. She's got more money than sense. He'll have to believe that. I really don't need him butting in with this, not when Mrs Grimes already thinks I should take someone with me to the ball," she huffed.

"Okay now I'm just confused. Wouldn't Matt be the perfect person to take with you?" He asked with furrowed brows.

"If he wasn't a dick then yeah," she glowered. Foggy nodded, leaning forward with his arms on his knees as he looked at her.

"I don't know what went down after I left the other day, but this feels way worse than normal and I don't like it,"he mumbled forlornly. She rubbed her temples and raked her teeth over her lower lip as she stayed silent. 

"Was it what he said? About Mr Lee?" He questioned gently. She'd almost forgotten he'd been there for that remark. Her lips stayed firmly sealed as she glared at the coffee table, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Talk to me, Daph. You and Matt are both my friends and it's hard being in the middle like this. He's done nothing but mope around doing his Catholic guilt thing since you last saw him and you seem miserable. I care about you. I'm not gonna sit here and force you to like him or even spend time with him, but I want you to talk to me," he implored. She took a deep breath, mulling over if she should tell him. But he’d wore her down and she found her mouth opening anway.

"His words really cut me deep. They hurt me and I didn't expect that. We've said a lot of shit to each other since we met but that was just… it was cruel. And I get it, he was scared and he lashed out. He said sorry and I actually believe him. But I'm mad at myself. I'm mad because I let him in somehow without realising it. I gave him the power to hurt me with his words. I'm mad because somewhere along the way something changed and I actually care about what he thinks of me," she whispered without looking at him. She almost felt ashamed to get it all out, lay it all on the table. But Foggy wasn't Matt. Being vulnerable around him wouldn't get her hurt.

Foggy scratched his chin, looking at her sadly. 

"I wanna say something and I don't want you to interrupt... I think that maybe you need to come to terms with the fact that feelings are involved in this thing with Matt," he started. She opened her mouth to protest but he shot her a look, promptly snapping her mouth closed. 

"You both can deny it until you're blue in the face, but it's there. It's always been intense with you two. Since the moment you met, up 'til now. No matter what emotion it is, it's strong. And there's a fine line between love and hate," he added.

"I don't love Matt!" She protested, unable to keep quiet at that ridiculous notion.

"Maybe not love. Not yet. But something. You both get under each other's skin so easy because you both care about what the other says. You get hurt when he's genuinely been a dick and he's hurt because he knows he's hurt you. I get it's weird and complicated with you both. And now there's intense sex thrown into the mix and its all blurry. But at some point you two stopped being mere annoyances to each other and denying it is just making things worse," he frowned. She clenched her jaw, really not wanting to be part of this conversation. 

"Matt's been through so much in his life. Like a rigorous amount of bullshit and I sometimes don't know how he keeps going. And he's lost a lot of people one way or another. He shields himself because he's scared. He doesn't wanna get hurt again. But you… I think you got to him. I think you chipped at the armor he wears and that terrifies him. So his only way of dealing with it is being an asshole to push you away. And something tells me you're exactly the same way," he murmured. 

"You don't know me," she snapped without meaning to. He looked hurt and nodded.

"Fine," he stood up and walked to the door. She scrunched her face up feeling like the worst person ever. Foggy was the last person she ever wanted to hurt and her chest felt tight.

"You know what? No, it's not fine. You're doing it right now and I'm not biting!" He frowned, whirling  back around and pointing a finger at her. She lowered her head like a scolded child but took it because she deserved it.

"I'm not saying you guys are in love or that anything will come out of it. But I know my best friend more than anyone and I know when someone's affecting him. And I've seen it with you two from the start, even if you both refuse to admit it. But what I'm saying is that maybe it's time you both just stop. Stop with the angst and the bullshit because you're only hurting yourselves. Try to be friends or something. Anything’s better than this endless loop you're both on," he groused and she stood up to face him.

"I'm not like you, Foggy. I can't just… I don't know how to connect with someone. The only way we became friends was because it's you. You just have this way about you and it's so easy to be around you. And I've tried with Matt, I've shared things with him, personal things and he threw them back in my face. So yeah, maybe I do shut down and I'm not easy to be around for him but it's because he makes it impossible. There is no way out of this endless loop. You told me that me and Matt are a lot alike and honestly I think you're right. Which is why it would never work being friends or anything else with him. I know he can be a great guy, I've seen it. But he's not that guy with me," she frowned. 

Foggy hung his head and nodded.

"I just think… if you guys moved past this crap, you could make each other really happy. But I'll drop it," he relented. She stayed silent as her emotions were all over the place. She didn't know what to think any more. 

"We're all going to Josie's tomorrow night to celebrate the money thing. Karen really wanted you to come as a thank you… but no pressure," he murmured quietly.

He gave her a hug before he saw himself out and she just stood there for a moment. She couldn't help but think back to what Karen said and how similar it was. She had no idea why people seemed to think there was something there with them both when they couldn't even manage to be friends. They were both hard headed and stubborn and lashed out when someone got too close. That wouldn't make anyone happy. But she couldn't deny the fact that Foggy had some points that rang true. Because it had turned into something somewhere along the way. If it hadn't then she wouldn't have been hurt by his words and she would have brushed them off like so many times before. Maybe feelings were involved but she had no idea which ones. She wasn't used to having them.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

[tired-college-student-writing]

A Match made in Therapy Chapter 3: Beginnings

Summary: JT and Dani know that outside of the Team Bright had very few people in his life. It was them, Gil, his mother, sister, therapist, parakeet, and his serial killer father. His circle of friends was small, but not as small as they seemed to think. Chapter 1

Chapter 2

 Chapter 3 (HERE)

________________________________________________

“Are you Matt?”

He was expecting Malcolm with the latest book he had gotten, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness by Kay Redfield Jamison, just like he had done for the last four weeks, on his lap but this wasn’t the bubbling acquaintance Matt had made. This was a man, mid-thirties if Matt had to guess, holding himself strongly, he was trained, the clink of metal on his belt said Police. Next to him was a small girl, maybe eight, long hair brushing over her collar as she looked at him.

“Why do you want to know,” He asked, hand reaching out to grab his cane, ready to scream and swing if the man tried to grab him, less likely with the girl here, but still a possibility.

“I told you,” The girl whined, “This is Matt, He’s always with Malcolm when we’re here.”

“You know Malcolm?” He asked quietly if it was an abduction then he was targeted for a specific reason, maybe Malcolm’s money?

“Uh-Huh,” She agreed, “He’s my brother.”

The Blind boy finally relaxed, remembering how the other boy had explained and detailed how much his little sister was amazing and annoying, “You’re Ainsley?”

“Yeah! Malcolm said we should find you.”

“Why? Is he okay?” He asked, realizing his fri- acquaintance wasn’t there. Why had Ainsley and this man (was he their dad?) come instead?

“He’ll be okay,” The man relayed, “ My name is Gil Arroyo, I work with the NYPD and Malcolm wanted me to tell you that he can’t make it today because he’s sick.”

Matt couldn’t stop his face from falling at those words, “But he’ll be okay?”

“He’ll be okay,” The officer repeated, voice soft and soothing, “He started a new medication a few days ago and had a bad reaction to them. He stopped taking them but he needs another few days to get back on his feet.”

“Oh...”Matt breathed, ignoring the knot in his chest that loosed as he heard Malcolm was fine, “That’s good. Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem kid,” Gil laughed, “He did say that you might be interested in hearing a few passages from his book though, would you like me to read them or wait until next week?”

“You don’t need to-”

“Gil does lots of things,” Ainsley cut in, “Cause he wants to, even when it’s my brother calling him at weird hours in the morning and not talk, just listening to Gil talk. He wouldn’t offer if he didn’t want to read to you.”

Matt scrunched up his face, but the man’s heart was steady and even as ever, comforting almost.

“No pressure, Matt,” He said, “I don’t have anywhere to be until six when my wife wants me home, but you can wait until next week for Malcolm if you’d prefer.”

Matt was silent for a long moment, he wasn’t supposed to ask for things, but would Malcolm come back if he was rude to Gil? Whatever relationship they had was clearly a very deep one if they weren’t father and son.

“It’s called The Summer of the Danes,” Gil read off, “by Ellis Peters. Malcolm said you usually share nonfictional books but this is a new medieval mystery novel from a series he enjoys and he has been itching to read it. The synopsis says that Brother Cadfael is pleased to join his young friend Mark, now a deacon, on a mission of church diplomacy in Wales. Traveling in the safety of the Prince of Geynedd’s train, they are brought to unexpected dangers, as they seek to keep a young Welsh woman free from harm.”

Malcolm almost squirmed, it did sound interesting… but make-believe wasn’t supposed to be something he looked for. Stick used to snap about how consuming too much fiction would make him disconnect from reality.

But Malcolm wanted him to hear it…

“Can you read a little of it please?”

He could feel Gil’s smile as the man sat down next to him on the bench, and Matt couldn’t help but stiffen as Ainsley climbed up on his other side, leaning into his arm lightly.

“I want to hear too! Malcolm always reads stuff to me,” She said not bothered that her bench partner seemed to turn into a stone statue.

Gil just laughed, patting his back lightly, “Breathe kid, she doesn’t bite, and she’ll move if you want her too.”

“No, I’m okay.”

Gil shook his head slightly, but opened the book and began to read.

“ The Extraordinary events of the Summer of 1144 may properly be said to have began the previous year, in the tangle of threads both ecclesiastical and secular, a net in which any number of diverse people became enmeshed, clerics, from the archbishop down to Bishop Roger de Clinton’s lowiest deacon and the laity from the princes of the North Wales down to the humblest cottager in the trefs of Arfon. And among the commonality thus entrammelled, more to the point, an elderly Benedictine monk of the Abbey of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, a Shrewbury …”

By the time Gil had finished the second chapter, Matt found himself relaxing, even if little Ainsley didn’t move far from his side, brushing up against him in a familiar way that made no sense since he had just met her a little over an hour before. The story was enthralling, the plotlines drawing Matt in swiftly as Gil’s low rumbling voice painted scene after scene for his sightless eyes to enjoy. He had even started poking fun at the man's voices for the different characters, barely able to keep a straight face once Heledd, the female lead in the book was introduced, but Ainsley insisted he continues the voices, something Matt wouldn’t admit he was pleased about.  

As the third chapter grew to a close, Ainsley’s attention seemed to waver. The quiet jangle of a bell told him why before she even opened his mouth.

“Can we get ice cream?”

“I don’t see why not,” Gil answered with no hesitation as he used the dust sleeve to mark his place.

“Yes!” She cheered hopping to her feet, “I want bubblegum, and chocolate, and strawberry-”

“You can get one flavor Ains,” Gil cut in, “What would you like Matt?”

“Oh, I’m fine, no need to bother” He quickly replied, even as  Ainsley grabbed his hand.

“It’s really no bother,” the man soothed, “It’ll be good for us to take a break from reading anyways.”

“I… I can’t,” Matt barely breathed, waiting for the disgust, “My stomach…”

Gil was quiet, his heart squeezing oddly, “Is this an ongoing problem? Being sensitive to different food?”

“Yes…” Stick would beat him for being so weak.

“That’s okay,” Gil soothed, “Food can be tricky, we could get you something lighter, like a popsicle or just some vanilla ice cream-”

“No,” Matt’s stomach twisted into an icy ball, “No vanilla.”

“Okay, what about citrus, how do you do with that?”

Matt thought for a second, “It’s usually fine, as long as it’s not overly sugared.”

The man nodded, “Okay. I’ll be right back.”  

As he walked away, Ainsley rocked lightly on her heels, “Gil doesn’t mind you know?”

“What?”

“He’s used to people not handling food real well,” She told him, “Malcolm is bad with food too, he has been since Daddy got taken away.”

“Gil isn’t your dad?”

“No, he’s the one that took daddy away,” Ainsley explained, “Mommy said Daddy hurt a lot of people and so he has to go away for a long time. Malcolm was really sad about it. Gil worries about us a lot so he comes and makes sure we’re okay now that daddy’s gone.”

“That’s nice of him,” Matt said with a smile he hoped didn’t look like a grimace. Malcolm and he had a sort of understanding that personal questions weren’t something they liked dealing with. He never asked and Malcolm never shared but for some reason, he wanted to know what had happened to his frie- acquaintance, His acquaintance.

He let Ainsley chat aimlessly to him until Gil returned with their treats, slowly taking his.

“Maybe you can read next time, Matt,” Ainsley suggested between licks to her ice cream, strawberry from the smell of it, “I think you’d do fun voices.”

“We’d have to find another book,” He hummed, not really registering the suggestion, too busy savoring the cool popsicle. It was amazing, one of the best things he’s ever eaten. The lemon wasn’t from concentrate, instead of using fresh juice and zest, just a little sugar to turn the overly sour taste into an enjoyable tart.

“Why?”

“The book is too new,” He replied easily, with a shrug, “I’d expect it to be at least a year before they make it in braille and for the libraries to get it. Though the new ADA laws being passed might get it out a little faster.”

“They don’t just make the books you can read when they make the books we can read?”

“No,” Usually these questions just felt tedious to explain to everyone, but the general earnest in Ainsley’s voice made the questions easy to answer, “They need a special printer to make a book in braille and they don’t have as many braille printers as text printers so it takes longer.”

“That’s dumb,” She whined, leaning into his side, “You like books almost as much as Malcolm, you should have all the books!”

“I think the nuns would protest to that,”

“Then they’re dumb-dumbs. I’m gonna get you all the books so that you can read them or I’m gonna learn to read really good and read them all to you!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her proclamation, “That sounds amazing Ainsley.”

It really really did.

________________________________________________

When Malcolm left the precinct early, instead of being drug out by Gil he could see the surprise on the team’s face, Dani quickly asking if he was feeling okay, but he just brushed them off, holding up the business card Matt had dropped off as they were leaving the station.

He was on a mission and he wasn’t about to wait any longer, especially since the case was on hold for a few hours as they secured a warrant.

The door opened right as Malcolm was about to reach it, Foggy sticking his head out.

“Matt heard me?” He asked, watching the blond pale.

“What no, of course not! You know all that stuff they say about the other senses compensating if bullshit.”

“Moth boy!” Malcolm called gruffly, as he pushed passed the stuttering lawyer swiftly “Want to tell me all about this Devilish handsome figure that’s apparently flipping through Hell’s Kitchen?”

There were two more people in the office, a pale blonde woman whose eyes had blown huge as he entered and a dark brunette that simply raised an eyebrow, holding herself defensively, but Matt didn’t look worried, instead, his face twisted in a worried snarl.

“Depends,” His voice was low, Malcolm only able to discern the anxiety in his tone from years of knowing him, “Want to tell me about Watkins and how your dad ended up in the hospital?”

“Ohh,” Malcolm hummed, “Someone did their research, but I asked first.”

“No I asked first,” Matt snapped, “Back at the precinct.”

“My escapades are well documented through the news, and by retelling of my sister for her new very loyal following, you, on the other hand, get away with only ghost stories, broken bones and a few shaky pictures of a man in an armored Halloween costume,” He shouted back, moving into Matt’s face, “I mean Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Anyone that spends enough time with you could piece it together, it’s not like  you don’t say ‘Murdock boys have the Devil in them,’ at the drop of a hat or anything!”

“Oh, I don’t want to hear the moral high ground from you, resident! You let your mom stab your father!”

Malcolm faltered, making Matt pause as his heart flipped.

The room grew silent as Matt glared at the other man, “You’re hiding something.”

“Always,” Malcolm slide in easily, their old inside joke falling short.

“Mal…”

“I can’t tell you,” He answered back, “Not about that, the trail hasn’t even started yet for Mother.”

“If I wanted to see boyfriend drama,” The brunette grumbled, “I would go find a case, what the hell is even happening, Murdock?”

“Yeah,” The other woman added, “I’d like to know that as well.”

“Hello,” Malcolm greeted, “I’m Malcolm Bright, this blind reckless idiot’s best friend, we’re currently discussing how we’re both lack sense of self-preservation and how we’re mad at each other for not sharing our latest escapees, and you are?”

“Karen,” The blonde answered with a raised brow, “I’ve been working with Matt and Foggy on for over a year now.

“Ah,” He smiled, “You must be the Page of the Nelson, Murdock, and Page then, and you Miss?”

“Jessica Jones,”  She offered, “ Thought Nelson was Murdock’s best friend?”

“He has two,” Foggy shrugged, “He’s known Malcolm for longer and they both have the same dumbass martyr thought process.”

“Not a martyr,” The pair answered in unison.

“Not from a lack of trying,” Foggy mumbled, “But either way, I guess you figured out Matt’s night job?”

“Profiler. Didn’t even know about Daredevil until today, guess the only good news is someone has to know you pretty well to see the clues, Moth.”

Matt scowled at him, “Can we go back to the fact you were kidnapped and then witnessed your mom stab your father through the heart?”  

“No. Can’t tell you anything about Mother anyways.”

Matt squinted at him, or rather at his ear, before holding out a hand, “Wallet,”

“Why?” He asked even as he handed it over. Matt fumbled through it a little pulling out four bills.

“Are these all the same amount?”

“Yes, hundreds,” Malcolm answered with a raised brow.

“Rich boy,” Matt mumbled with a fond eye roll, “One for Jess, one for Karen, one for Foggy and One for me. Congrats Mr. Bright, you just hired three lawyers and a PI. You now have attorney-client privilege and PI level discreetment. Tell us what happened with your mother and the carousel killer.”

Malcolm just sat there blinking in confusion for a long minute before he let out a soul-weary groan, “I hate you.”

Matt just smiled back, “No you don’t.”

__________________________________________________

Taglist: @ofvalkyrja

#prodigal son #daredevil #malcolm bright #matt murdock #gil arroyo #ainsley whitly #foggy nelson #Jessica jones #karen page #Matt and Malcolm are childhood best friends

[ironwoman18]

We found love in a hopeless place part 10

Chapter 10: Poker Night.

That same night, somewhere else.

"Hey Emily" said a female voice when the BAU boss answered her cellphone.

"Hey JJ. Is everything ok?" She asked walking in her apartment.

"Yeah everything is ok. They kids are in bed and will is reading a book before bed. How are you?"

"I'm perfectly fine thank you. And can I know why are you calling?"

The blonde sighed at the other side of the phone "did you talk to Spence?"

Emily took of her jacket and sat down in her couch "yeah I did. I just returning from my talk with him"

"And how did you see him?"

"Perfect. He looked relax and happy"

"Just like he was when I saw him when we went to the zoo" she said "but did he tell you why?"

"No" JJ cursed under her breath and Emily understood her "JJ... He is a grow man and does need a babysitter"

"I know Emily but the last time he kept information from us, he ended being in jail for three months and almost got kill by an ex FBI agent..."

"Yeah I know but if he kept information to himself it doesn't mean it's something bad. He knows the consequences if he does something like that again" said the black headed woman "he is a genius and I know he learned the lesson"

"And yet he keeps information..." She said bitterly.

"Ok let's imagine two scenarios. One he is up to something like what led him to prison, which make him an idiot, and we both know he isn't" Emily took a pause and JJ was about to talk when the black headed stopped her "let me finish. The second is... What about he wants to keep his privacy because he met someone...?"

"Do you think...?" JJ could not imagine him falling I love again. He was devastated when Maeve was killed and she did not saw him interested in another woman since then.

"Just like you when you was dating Will" she told her and JJ thought it was a low blow but she got a point "we like to keep our private life, specially in a place where others could read us like an open book. Spence deserves happiness and if he isn't ready to share this with us yet we must respect it" the blonde sighed and looked down.

"You are right Emily. I'm just worry about him"

"I understand but what we can do now is to support and love him. He needs time to realize if that person is the right one for him"

"Yeah I know... Thank you Emily" she said smiling happy she got her worries out of her system then her smile became a smirk "do you imagine Spence dating someone?"

"I bet he would start talking about facts I between kisses like 'hey do you know that the kisses were forbidden in 1766 because it may attract the devil?'" said Emily trying to imitate his voice and both women laughed.

"I can totally imagine that" said JJ still laughing "goodnight Emily"

"Goodnight JJ" they hung up and went to bed.

At the same time in the park.

Spencer and Max decided to talk about happier topics. She laughed when he told her about the 'Reid Effect" with kids and dogs.

"But I think that effect stopped to work with your godsons"

"Yeah maybe you are right" he laughed looking at her "I just need to try with dogs" he added with a laugh.

"Totally" she smiled then checked her watch "it's getting late so maybe we should leave. Tomorrow is Friday and I need to get early to work"

"Sure I can walk with you to your car" he said looking at her.

"It's ok. I'm further than you"

"I must insisted. I don't want you in danger. When you work at the FBI and getting into the eviler minds you could imagine, you could be more paranoid than a normal person" she sighed but nodded.

"Ok I understand. Let's go" she wrapped her arms around his arm as they walked to her car "my dad is excited for the poker night" she looked up at him.

He laughed "he looked so upset with them when they brag about their wins against him"

"They had been losing against them since he started this poker nights" she looked as they get closer to her car "tomorrow I will be extremely busy so maybe we can't see each other"

"It's ok. I won't be able to meet you either. My boss sent an email saying I have to go tomorrow to be checked by. The medical team and next week I can do the shooting test and other test I have to pass to get in the field"

"So if you pass them, you will have to go to solve cases?" He nodded.

"But we can see each other when I'm free. Normally on weekends" she nodded.

"Good because I will miss seeing you everytime we want" he smiled and moves his hand to rub her cheek.

"Me too but we still have the phone calls and the weekends for us" she smiled looking at his eyes.

He was so tall he had to lean in to kiss her once again. This kiss was a little longer than the last one they shared after she told him her experience with Mike.

She felt like she might fainted, his lips were soft and the kiss was gently. He was an amazing kisser and she could never imagined it because he looked so awkward around her sometimes but he was full of surprises, and she loved it.

She was the first to break the kiss, she was not happy but she had to go to her apartment early that night.

"See you on Saturday?" She whispered on his lips.

"Y...yeah" he whispered back. His hands firmly on her waist.

She smiled softly and rubbed his cheek "goodnight Spencer" she lightly kissed his lips once more and walked to her car.

He looked as she did it then walked to his car when she left. He was smiling just thinking about those two kisses they shared and how she trusted him about her situation with her last boyfriend.

That made him think about telling her what happened to him. It was different of course but he was sure now that she trusted him and she will not run away from him.

The next day was as busy as he expected. They checked his health in general. They ran a complete blood test, they did physical test and everything was normal.

They knew that he had anthrax so any sign of it was already in the record so the doctors did not get worry. His contact lenses were checked and every looked fine with him.

"Doctor Reid, this results will be send to th Deputy director and your supervisor. This Monday you will go to the offices to do the shooting test" he nodded and left the building. He decided to visit his mother after lunch.

She was happy in the hospital. She was playing bingo with other people in there. The doctor who was checking his mother talked to him.

Telling him about they are trying a new medication on her. The experiments were really good so they decided to start to use them with some patients.

Spencer didn't have much hope because he had tried a lot of them and neither worked but let's wait.

After that he decided to leave to do other things for work. He needed some documents for the bureau so he had a busy day. He managed to text Max now and then and she answered him when she could.

They were busy but had time for one another. At night the talked on the phone and decided to meet at lunch and they will go to her dad's house for the poker night.

The next day Spencer and Max met in a restaurant and ate lunch. He explained her how to play poker and he told her he only had lost against Emily and JJ.

He was really good so she could be sure he will beat those men.

After lunch they went to the house and there was Sammy with his father.

"Are you my aunt boyfriend?" He asked straight forward "your hair is weird for a grown man"

Spencer laughed softly "Sammy respect him and he isn't my boyfriend" she blushed deeply.

"You always say to not lie aunt Max" she looked at him like she was going to kill him.

Spencer on the other hand cannot help but smile looking at her and her nephew "Sammy right?" He nodded "your aunt isn't lying"

"But she looks like she is your girlfriend and what's your name?"

"Oh yeah I haven't introduce myself. I'm Spencer. Nice to meet you"

"Nice to meet you too" the little boy looked at him "what do you do?"

"Sammy!" Said Max rolling her eyes.

"I'm a FBI agent" he said calmly

"Wow! Did you know that the FBI has 300.000 employees?"

"Actually yes I did know that" he smiled at the little boy.

Sammy smiled at him back "aunt I like him you should be her girlfriend" she rolled her eyes and blushed softly.

"Enough Sammy" she said to him and was happy to see his father "hey Matt"

"Hey Max and Spencer. Nice to see you again. Michelle will be here soon to pickup Sam. I will stay here to watch the poker game" he patted Spencer's shoulder "I'm excited to see you play"

"It's not something special. Just math"

"Yeah the problem is I'm a journalist so my math isn't good. I'm sure my wife would be better. She is an accountant"

"Yeah maybe but we all can learn. Math is THE science so if you know it you'll be able to think with logic and know how to play poker better"

They continued to talk until the others arrived. He walked to the basement where the poker table was.

Matt asked to be the dealer for the night. The game started and each made a bet. The two men were full of confidence about winning as usual. Spencer was in competitive mode and had his poker face on.

The other made higher bets until they showed their cards. Dom quit after two rounds of bets.

The other men had strong hands but Spencer won with a straight flush. The others were in shock.

They played more hands with the same result. Spencer winning every match.

They checked his arms to see if he was cheating but they could not find any sign of that.

The two men decided to leave earlier.

"So you won, because they never leave this early" Spencer nodded "good" she looked around and no one was around so she kissed him softly "congratulations" she smiled at him.

He smiled back and hugged her "thank you" they stayed like that for a while until they broke the hug and walked to her dad who was talking to Matt.

"Max, Spencer was amazing. He won every match and with great hands"

"yeah he told me" she said looking at him and hugged his arm "actually I'm not surprised because he is from Vegas and he was banned from every casino there" the two men's jaw dropped.

"Really?" Asked Matt.

"Yes. They didn't like to lose so when I won a lot of games they decided to kicked me out. And it happened in every casino"

"I wouldn't be shocked after watching you playing today" added Matt.

After that they ate sandwiches and talked some more until it was time for Matt, Max and Spencer to leave.

The couple left after Spencer promised to return to the house soon. Max drove to his apartment and they shared a last kiss before he jumped out of the car.

"Tomorrow I would like to have a picnic with you. Would it be ok?" He asked.

She smiled and nodded "I would love to Spencer" he smiled back and walked to his apartment.

OOooOOooOO

That was all for today. I hope you liked it. I wasn't sure if I should add or not that conversation between JJ and Emily. I hope I made the right decision.

I also decided to add the medicine plot at this moment of the story. The next chapter we will have some things from S13E2 like the shooting test or the condition the deputy director said to Spencer about teaching.

#criminal mind #maxcer #spencer reid #maxine brenner #fanfiction

[singledarkshade]

Detective Hunter

(Part One can be found here)

 Part Two

 “This is a nice room,” Gideon noted approvingly as she sat cross-legged in the middle of the large bed in Rip’s, well Dean’s, hotel room. Rip had been relieved that the hotel was booked for that night since the precinct hadn’t been expecting him until tomorrow.

After they’d returned to the station and checked into the progress of the security footage, Matt offered to drop him off at the hotel so he could change and leave his things in the room since George had invited Rip to join his family for dinner that night.

“It is,” Rip replied, while he checked the clothes in the bag, “How long do I have until I am due at Detective Francisco’s home?”

“You have one hour and twenty-seven minutes to ready yourself,” Gideon replied.

Rip nodded, “Well it looks as though these clothes should fit me and appear comfortable. I will have a quick shower and then we can go over everything from the case.”

Gideon raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Detective Hunter is in the hospital, Gideon,” he reminded her as he undressed, “The least I can do while I’m here is to help solve his case. Especially as I’m using his identity.” He paused before adding, “Hotel room, clothes and money.”

Heading into the bathroom he turned on the shower, stepping in he closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of warm water batter down on him. He had no idea how long it had been since he’d last had a proper shower.

“I have been thinking, Captain,” Gideon said her head appearing in front of him, making Rip jump.

“Gideon,” he snapped annoyed.

Confusion covered her face, “Is something wrong? It is not the first time we have discussed our current situation while you showered.”

Frowning Rip replied, “Usually you don’t appear in it with me.”

Rolling her eyes, she disappeared, and her voice came from outside, “As I was saying, Captain I was thinking about the shard.”

“What about it?” Rip asked as he washed his hair.

“In every other place we have been, the shard has manifested close to you,” Gideon noted, “Or close to people you have been interacting with.”

“Your point?” Rip called, as he closed his eyes leaning back into the stream of water to clean off all the soap.

“My point, Captain,” Gideon replied with irritation in her voice, “Is that you should not get too focussed on solving this case that you miss something regarding the whereabouts of the shard.”

Turning the water off, Rip grabbed the towel and began to dry himself heading back into the main room.

“I will ensure I do, Gideon,” he promised as he dressed, “But since you’re also here I know you’ll be watching out for it too.” Pulling on the light blue shirt with the black denims he’d pulled on, Rip turned to find Gideon smiling at him. “What?”

“You look very handsome, Captain,” she told him with a fond smile.

With a slight smile of his own, Rip nodded, “Thank you, Gideon.”

“Now,” she said decisively, “Let’s go over this case.”

 Rip smiled slightly as the taxi turned into the street. Before he’d left the hotel room, he’d stumbled across a documentary of the arrival of the ‘Newcomers’. He now knew about the crash in the Mojave Desert about five years before and how the once enslaved people were enfolded into the population of Los Angeles. It was extremely interesting, and Rip wished he could go back to witness what was such an historical event within this world’s history.

Reaching the house, Rip paid the taxi driver and slid out to find George waiting for him. The Tenctonese male reminded Rip a bit of Ray in his enthusiasm and kindness to others.

“Welcome,” the detective greeted him enthusiastically, “I’m glad you accepted my offer.”

“Well, it’s very kind of you. And I wasn’t looking forward to eating alone in a hotel room,” Rip replied.

“How rude,” Gideon said from his side with a mischievous smile.

Ignoring her, Rip followed George to the house smiling at how it felt like a home, but he didn’t get a chance to look around much as a small girl bounced over grabbing his attention.

“Hello?” she said, with a sweet inquisitive look.

Rip smiled back, “Hello.”

“Rip, this is my daughter Emily,” George introduced.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Emily,” Rip said, smiling as the little girl offered her hand for him to shake.

Emily gave a confused pout, “You sound different.”

“Emily,” George scolded slightly.

Rip however chuckled, “I’m from London in England. That’s why I have a different accent.”

Emily motioned him to her and whispered, “I like it.”

A twinge of sadness filled Rip at the sweet little girl who appeared to be about the same age as Jonas had been when Rip lost him.

“Rip,” George’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “This is my wife, Susan.”

The handsome Tencton female smiled warmly at him, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Rip replied, accepting the bottle of beer she offered him, noting Gideon’s look of disappointment but relieved she remained silent.

“We keep these for when Matt visits,” Susan told him, “I hope it’s okay.”

Rip nodded and followed them through to the dining room where a teenage boy and an older male sat.

“Rip, this is our son Buck and Uncle Moodri,” George finished the introductions.

Aware of the intense stares from both, hostile from the boy and interest from the older male, Rip simply nodded hello. The teen muttered in his native language and was scolded by his parents.

“Let’s eat,” George pulled attention back to him.

 Dinner was nice.

Rip was surprised that he was given cooked meat, since he knew it was not something a Tencotnese family would have and chuckled when Susan confessed that she’d ordered it from a restaurant.

“It was kind of you to invite me,” Rip told her, “You shouldn’t have gone to any trouble.”

Susan smiled, “We couldn’t leave you sitting in a hotel room alone.”

George nodded, “Now would you like tea and coffee.”

“Tea would be lovely,” Rip replied.

“Why don’t you clear up, while I get to speak with our guest,” Uncle Moodri spoke for the first time since Rip had been in the house, “I’d like to learn about his country.”

George gave a worried grimace, but Rip nodded.

“I’d be delighted to get to speak to one of your elders,” Rip said, his words carefully chosen letting them know he understood Moodri’s place in their society.

Moodri grinned, “Excellent. I was going to take my evening walk. Why don’t you join me?”

“Uncle…” several voices called but Moodri waved them away.

Rip stood as well and followed the elder out the back door.

They walked in silence for several minutes away from the house before Moodri turned to him, “You are interesting.”

“I am?” Rip asked innocently.

Moodri laughed, “You speak very carefully, but your eyes betray that you understand so much more than you pretend to.”

“I’m…”

“Not who you appear to be,” Moodri cut him off.

Rip stopped and smiled slightly, “Neither are you. The Elders of Tencton are a breed amongst themselves.”

Moodri stared at him in surprise.

“Captain?” Gideon’s shocked voice rang in his ears, “What are you doing?”

Rip didn’t move, simply kept a level stare as he waited.

“And what does a man who doesn’t live amongst us know that many Tenctonese themselves are ignorant of?” Moodri asked, interest dancing in his eyes.

Rip let out a soft chuckle, “You’ve worked out that I’m not who I say I am, that I don’t belong in this world.”

“I have?”

“I saw it in your eyes the moment you met me,” Rip told him continuing as Gideon stared at him stunned, “I know because in my universe I spent time on your homeworld. I was fortunate to spend two months being taught by the ‘Keepers of the Past’ on the most beautiful world I have ever known.”

“A traveller,” Moodri said in awe.

Rip laughed, “Traveller denotes an ability to decide your destination. I’m being moved from place to place.”

“Would it involve a glowing piece of glass?” Moodri asked thoughtfully.

Rip felt relief fill him and nodded.

“We were sure someone would come after it,” Moodri told him, “But unsure if it would be a good someone or a bad someone.”

“That I can’t answer,” Rip told him with a sigh.

He saw Gideon frown as she stated firmly, “You are a good man, Captain.”

“Why do the Detectives believe that you are someone they know?” Moodri asked thoughtfully.

Rip sighed, “When I arrived here, Detective Hunter was being attacked. I chased off the thug, but he is now in hospital unconscious.”

“You adopted his identity,” Moodri chuckled before asking confused, “And you’re solving the case for him?”

“I didn’t know where my shard was,” Rip told him, “And it was only fair since my distraction likely meant he couldn’t fight back properly.”

“We should return to the house,” Moodri said as he began to walk again, “They will be getting worried.”

Rip moved to his side, “Can I trust you to keep my secret?”

“You are not a danger to my family,” Moodri noted adding, “This would be a different conversation if you were.”

“Will you keep my secret?” Rip asked again.

“If, before you leave,” Moodri replied, “You tell me about my home.”

                                 *********************************************

 Rip sighed as he woke up and smiled to find Gideon lying beside him, watching over him as he slept.

“You look good, Captain,” Gideon said softly, “I’m happy to see that you are taking the advice the Host gave you.”

Rip shrugged, “Well, I’m going to be here for a few days at least. I need to have my wits about me,” he gave a small smile, “And it was good to be able to have a proper night’s sleep.”

“It’s good that we know where the shard is,” Gideon noted before asking what he knew was a question she wanted to know the answer to, “But are you sure that you can trust who guards it?”

Rip smiled at her concern, “Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?” Gideon demanded, “You are not one to trust so glibly.”

Stretching Rip smiled in thought, “At the end of the first year of training, Druce told me that my temper was something that would get me into trouble. At least that was the reason he gave me anyway.”

“For what?” Gideon asked, interested as this was something about his past she didn’t know.

“I’m assuming they wanted me off base and out of the road for some reason. Anyway, they sent me to the home planet of the Tenctonese,” Rip explained, “In our universe they rose up against the Overlords who forced them into slavery. A battle that meant many of their people were lost but, in the end, they reclaimed their world and freedom. I spent two months with their Elders learning how to see more than what was in front of me. A society of scholars and artists and brilliant people whose home was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. I learned a great deal and it changed my perspective on many things.”

Gideon nodded in understanding, “You recognised Moodri as an Elder due to your time there?”

“Not exactly,” Rip gave her an amused smile, “He was one of the Elders who taught me.”

Gideon blinked in surprise, “Oh my Captain, you and your secrets.”

“It wasn’t a secret, Gideon,” Rip told her, “I wasn’t keeping it from you, it was part of my training. I never really thought about it much after I left.”

“Until we came here,” Gideon finished for him.

He mused, “This is the first time I’ve come face to face with the alternate version of someone I know. It’s honestly a little disconcerting.”

Gideon rested her hand just at his cheek, “If I could, I would hug you again, Rip.”

“As long as you’re with me, Gideon,” Rip breathed, “I’m comforted.”

They lay side by side in silence for a few minutes before Rip sighed.

“First thing this morning is to check on the real Dean Hunter,” Rip noted, “Then I’ll head to the precinct and help find his missing girl.”

Gideon nodded in agreement, “Then stop lazing about, Captain and get out of bed. We have work to do.”

 Rip entered the hospital room of the real Detective Dean Hunter, finding the man was still unconscious.

“He is stable,” the nurse said as she fixed the IV line.

Nodding Rip asked, “Is there any indication when he’ll wake up?”

“Unfortunately, no,” she replied, “But all signs show that he will. It’s currently up to him.”

Rip turned to her and gave her a soft smile, “Thank you. I’ll check in on him later.”

Leaving the room Rip hoped the other man would remain unconscious long enough that his cover wouldn’t be blown.

“Ready, Captain?” Gideon asked from his side.

Glancing over to her, Rip nodded decisively, “Let’s get to work.”

#fic #crossover #legends of tomorrow #alien nation #rip hunter #gideon #george fransciso

[helpinghanikan]

Not Yourself

Avengers (and Matt Murdock) x Reader

Sum: Mind control is a serious threat in the same world that aliens, Gods and helmet defying hair exist. No one is safe from it, not even you. 

Steve Rogers:  

           Entire situation starting some minutes ago and ending in slow motion half a lifetime later. Siren blares like a whale on helium and twenty times faster. Four sets of hands slapping to their pairing ears in the small all glass office room.

           Siren bleeds between your fingers and into your brain. Filling it like black water in a coffee mug until it spills all the way over. It drips from your ears and onto your hand, taking control. Becoming the tendons, bones and muscles that go to the service pistol on the small of your back.

           There are too many reasons to explain why you were taken compared to the other three in the room. Maybe because you were standing and therefore closer to the speakers, or you just didn’t cover your ears well enough and fell victim to it, or you could have been the original target all along. No matter the reason, your Glock 7m was in your grip and pointed before any security outside the office could react.

           Between your three coworkers two rounds left the clip. Metal destroyed seconds after shattering glass you didn’t blink at. Red, white and blue Vibranium ripping through whatever is between it’s path to the back wall.

           Gun ripped from your grip you can expect a few broken fingers. Owner of the savior shield is there after the first security.

           “Oh, oh no…” Shock was setting in, arms stuck in the slightly bent position.

           The noise escaped from the office. Hands hitting ears and shots hit the corner speakers. Black machines and wires joining in the broken glass and small splats of blood. Raining down on your coworkers still struggling for breath.

           Arms are around you from behind, over your forearms and towards your center. A half-hug, half- hold pulling you into the solid body behind you.

           You weren’t Steve’s first loved one that was the victim of mind control. Bucky forcing him to learn that, in the moment of hesitation, is when he’d have to take control. Practically carrying you out of the office, past medics running in and refusing to let go. Sending a look to anyone who dared give an indication of taking you away.

           “You’re okay, it’s not your fault.” Whispering your name like a mantra, just so you wouldn’t forget it.

         Tony Stark:

         You can count on your hand the amount of times you’ve been in a Stark suit. The first time you just wanted to see what it was like, being told immediately to get out when you asked why the heels were necessary. Second during a home invasion; one moment your looking around the corner and the next your covered in metal and padding.

           This time you weren’t aware of the suit until you were standing before it. Brief memories of your bare feet slapping through the workshop. Breaking the unspoken rule of wearing shoes in work shop, stepping right onto dead wires and pieces of junk that you were lucky didn’t cut through the bottom of your foot.

           That entire day would be remembered best as “blurry”. Bed, breakfast, Tony, and then you’re at the spa. Piper is there but you were too focused on some article about you to notice any of the details. It’s why you didn’t think much when your usual masseuse wasn’t the same as regular. And then there are the smallest of bells and suddenly…Bed.  

           Now you stood in front of a prototype from some years ago. Made without a reason in mind and just for something to distract Tony when sleep was impossible. Just slightly more upgraded then it’s predecessor; a wee bit faster and just a wee bit stronger. By this point in time it was practically obsolete. Unlikely your lover would notice it was gone.

           None of the other times you’ve been in a suit you had flown it outside. Just stood in it stationary, during the home invasion it returned to the work shop, but that was quick hovering. Without practice it was an extreme case of stomach dropping, vertigo and just a scream inducing roller coaster. Everything was calm from your angle, just a journey you weren’t prepared to go to on but, hey, there you were.

           “Ma’am, I don’t think Boss is gonna like this.” FRIDAY says next to your ear.

           “It’s fine,” Because it was fine. Everything was fine.

           “He’s calling now,” FRIDAY says. “Putting him on the line.”

           “That’s fine,”

           “Hey there, Sweetheart, what ya doing?” It’s not common that you were the one in trouble while Tony acted as the voice of reason. It never seemed to be a position he was comfortable with.

           “I don’t know,”

           “Looks like you’re out for-.” He’s cut off by the closest building.

           There was this general assumption that you already knew how to fly the suit. Not even mildly interesting enough to have the need of it and never bothered to really play with them. With your body going into auto pilot there was little chance you’d make it so far.

           Starting high in the sky and starting a slow descent over the course of a few minutes. By the time you got out of the city you two stories from the ground. Clipping the side of a two-story house, spinning like a slapped top past the road way and into some poor families backyard.

           The poor husband of the house was nudged (Shoved) awake by the wife. Both hands shoving his forearm, practically out of the bed. A storm of “Did you hear that?” “What was it?” “Go check” “Neil, go check.” She asks with each shove to emphasize her distress. She’s gone by the time he wakes fully, door to the kid’s room open and her standing post in case the danger gets past him.

           Bat in hand he stomps through the house. Hoping that the sound of a large, tired and annoyed father would scare off anything that might have gotten into the house. Instead there is nothing, completely dark and empty house with only the squeaking of upstairs floorboards from wife-y and child shifting their weight.

           Next stop, outside. Where there was a new crater that was absolutely not there before.

           A lot of weird stuff has been happening within the last few years. From aliens to gods that were no longer prayed to, that a suit of hard metal was embedded into his yard only made sense. From his position above the suit he could hear the muffled screaming from inside.

           Some point between the house, spinning and the back-yard crash you woke fully. Impact and alarm system working together. One of the many security measures includes a complete shut down of all systems when landed. Only when close enough to the ground so there weren’t too many injuries or death from the system. Instead just entrapping the thief in the shell, keeping their body trapped under the metal until each piece is removed by outside help.

           Between the dark blue and the stars there is a head. Designated husband making the (arguably stupid) decision to take hold of the face mask. Although shut down, the hiss was still present from the change of air. Both of you blinking to each other, just as equally confused.

           “Where am I?” The first of many questions you would bombard this guy with.

                       Thor:

         A hand is in your hair and it’s not his.  

           Asshole’s yell of “EVERYBODY OUT” was still rattling the windows. Whatever was in those claws pricking the back of your neck was effective at keeping you calm. Your work buddy being the last person to leave, concerned by your lack of effort to escape.

           Hopefully you were in a different head space. Staring towards one of the many windows like your favorite show was on. Arm around your shoulders, holding your face with a possessive thumb rubbing your jaw line. His free hand was in your mess of hair, distantly there was tugging but you couldn’t place it.

           The world you were dragged into was one of both magic and medicinal. Where the prettiest fucking thing in this world was suddenly a bird on the branch outside the window. Everything else in the world was your peripheral vision that didn’t matter. The equivalent of a bus passing by that’d you never see again.

           Thor had this way of being a room, as though the colors were all just drawn towards him. Even to those that didn’t initially believe in other realms, or were still in denial about it, would give at least a glance to him. It wasn’t because of the look but just his aura that was more mass then the rest of the humans. Other Asgardians had this same presence, Loki seemed to be too well aware of it.

           Although everything in the world was static you knew the feeling of Thor the moment he came into your space. Even those it wasn’t Thor’s fingers in your hair you still hummed just from the presence of your man. Unaware of how so much more pissed this made him.

           The static is so much louder than before. Volume raising and lowering at random, yet your little birdie still hung around on the branch. Poking at his little feathers and hoping side to side. His head twitches at your direction and hops a little, silent tweets. Going ‘Sup?’

           Through the static and the magic world, a whisper is said somewhere both above and behind you head. “Walk” it commands. A wonderful idea, one that has your legs moving without a single worry.

           Your little birdie has stopped messing with his feathers. Tilting his head left, right and tweeting loudly this time. Cute little chirps to full on screaming as you get closer. ‘What are you doing?’ he screams but you didn’t speak bird. When you don’t respond he hops from the branch. Flying upwards and leaving a shaking stretch of wood in its place.

           Finally, the static stopped when the floor did. Swimming in air through the world, air as the water in the deep end of a bottomless pool. Arms stretching out, trying to reach through the entirety of the “water” you were swimming through.

           Your relief is incredibly brief. Static coming back harder than before, like someone throwing a brick into the pool you were swimming in. This came in the form of a log of an arm slamming into your back and being hit chest first into, what can only be described as, a bag of bricks.

           It pulls you from the pool, staring into blue eyes and a glass building behind them.

           Although pulled from the pool you are still soaking wet. Static making the blue eyes into a nothing leading into the more nothing behind him. Draining and flooding at the same time until all you saw was white.

         Bucky Barnes:

           You’d never be able to take Bucky in a fight, even in play he’d always end up on top.

           This time, with his hands holding your wrists high, you were laughing under him, claiming he had an unfair advantage and pressing against him to roll him off. No, you were snarling at him. Even with the impossible metal grip around your wrist you refused to drop the offending knife.

           Before this dinner was lovely, a rooftop restaurant rented out as a favor from Stark. Appetizers were some small fishes deep fried served with sauces. Although delicious, and you were having a genuine good time, the sting of a headache was appearing at the base of your skull. Waving off Bucky’s concern, blaming it on a withdrawal symptom of caffeine.

           With the appetizers taken away and an expresso sat down you laughed and talked. Hand sometimes going to the back of your head. Pressure and your little bitter friend doing next to nothing to help with the pain.

           Main course is set, and your steak knife had become extremely fascinating.

           Your waiter dropped the pitcher of water in fear when your suddenly stood. Chair hitting the floor behind you, table flying next.

           Bucky caught on the downward thrust. Pulling your wrist high as your eyes were almost completely vacant. Not focusing on anything but eyes wide open. He knew that look too intimately.

           Your free hand curled into a fist. Pressing into his face which he also grabbed and held. With little experience fighting your legs tried to kick at his crotch and legs, looking for more damage then to escape his hands.

           Heels were such a good idea at the beginning of the night. Small enough you’d trip on a street grate but a wonderful excuse to have to lean against him in walking up the stairs. Now they were being dragged off your feet, slipping from the foot. Leaving attached by the strap around your ankle while Bucky pulls you towards the restaurant. A waltz neither of you wanted to dance to.

           With the tangled shoes and a misplaced step your legs give out. Bucky went with you, leg on either side of your hips, hands keeping yours pressed to your chest. This was how your wrestling matches would end. Pinned to the ground, Bucky demanding you beg for mercy before you get a kiss. This time you bite towards his face like a feral dog.

           It takes the waiter several seconds of gob smacked staring before calling the emergency line.

         Natasha Romanoff:

         A torture in the worst kind. It would take roughly eight regular steps to make it from the bedside to the kitchen counter. Your back was to her, moonlight from the window to stare to showing the colors of your pajamas and the black gun lifting against your head.

           Natasha cuts those eight steps down to six. A few seconds full of slapping bare feet and a silent plea to make it in time. At the end of those seconds an unholy bang rips from the barrel and into your ceiling. Two strong but slim hands hold your hand above your head and straight into the black dot in the ceiling.

           Upstairs neighbor have a beagle. A decently behaved dog that started howling at the top of his little lungs. Startled by the shot that thankfully missed anyone in the building and doing what he can to protect his family.

           Millions around the state collectively cry out with the beagle upstairs. Shots, stabs and jumps happening only seconds before you wake in fear. Blood covering miles of the state when you collapse into Nat’s arms. Unable to move, so confused from a nightmare you hadn’t woken from and couldn’t run away.

           Nat didn’t say anything, letting your weight take both of you down to the floor. Dragging you into her lap and shhh-shhh shushing you while you tried to understand.

         Bruce Banner:

           It wasn’t insulting to say that not a lot of people noticed you. Even before the big guy you were always a step behind and to the right of Bruce. In meetings, in pictures and in lab. Still you were the backbone for Bruce’s every day. There wasn’t an email, text, or phone call that didn’t go by you. The only time this wasn’t the case was during his self-imposed exile, the glare you gave when reunited…oh boy.

           This was why the assault was both confusing and made perfect sense. A seemingly simple mugging that ended with your purse gone and more than one cut covering neck and arms. It never occurred to anyone you’d need extra security. People would recognize Bruce before you.

           No cameras, wearing masks and average height, average build. It would take time to find them. Not that it’d be that hard to cancel some cards and your lipstick could be picked up on the way home. Eventually you just forgot about it, but started the habit leaving the compound with at least someone.

           The click-click-click of your fingers flying through the keyboard suddenly stopped. Bruce didn’t look up as the smaller click of your mouse would follow after. Your usual pattern was gone as you rifled through things without reason. Bruce watched from over his glasses, still poised at his microscope.

           Your desk was a second home. Not a drawer on it that you didn’t know the exact contents of.

           “Looking for something?” He asks, expecting you to retort with ‘I know my desk, Bruce.’ And more struggling.

           Instead you just struggled. Finding one of many flash drives stored in the back of the top right drawer. They were pretty cheap, you demanding a certain brand simply because you could.

           Your click-click-clicking continues for several more minutes.

           Bruce stands a few feet behind you. Watching your fingers go faster then they really should. Even when you were in the groove and could pop out reports without stopping of several hours you didn’t go this far. It wasn’t so much that you were typing fast, but that you weren’t touching the mouse. Like some action movie hacker, you didn’t touch the mouse yet everything on screen was moving documents and opening files.

           It takes a few seconds for a genius like Bruce to realize you were just pretending to type.

           “Honey?” He asks, hand going to your shoulder.

           You had minor self-defense training. Really you were little more than an over-glorified yellow belt in judo. One of the things taught was to get someone’s hand off of you. Grabbing his, fingers digging into his palm, and turning it in the wrong direction.

           He pulls it back and you continue with “typing”.

           There were two kind of emergency buttons in the lab. One for immediate and loud approach, storming guards and sirens and lots of yelling. And one for a subtler approach. For a situation when the threat is monologuing, or a raid would cause a worse reaction.

           He clicked the second one. You didn’t stop “typing”.

           The agent slides into the lab as your typing stopped and the flash drive was practically slammed into the computer. Going back to typing as though it would fool anyone.

           You knew the agent that shared the look with Bruce. She had a little sister she used to walk to school and volunteered to walk you home after the mugging. She steps up behind the chair, looking over your head to see the files being downloaded.

           “Hey, I’m about to go on brake, wanna get a cup of coffee?” She asks going into the protocol for ‘out of mind’ situations.

           Ever since the New York incident protocol was updated to cover mind control. Company policy was to just pretend like everything was normal and fine, try and get them to a secluded place where less damage can be done. From there they are to be neutralized and brought to medical for examination.

           Without a response Bruce hits the same subtle button.

           First agent says your name, placing both hands on your shoulders.

           The office chair wheels backwards into First agent. Right into her gut that she shoves to the side. Just as aggressive as you had put it in, you ripped out the flash drive. Spinning on low pumps to the lab door and right into Second agent’s chest.

           Second agent you didn’t really know. Used as a “intimidation agent” being over six feet and visibly armed. Their main job was to follow or stand in the corners of visitors the higher ups didn’t like.

           An agent you didn’t have a relationship with was also a part of the mind control policy. One agent can try and handle it but there would have to be two to ensure the rules are followed. Sense he didn’t see you as a life partner or even as a friend, there was no hesitation on his part to grab the wrist holding your flash drive. Or cussing at you when your teeth latched onto his arm.

           Like the professional she is the taser under your jaw unhinged your teeth. Falling backwards into her open arms, flash drive hitting the lab floor.  

           T’Challa:

           You’re pacing back forth in front of the two way. Everything about your movements were just wrong; your shoulders were square, feet hitting harder on the floor, eyes whipping back and forth for enemies that aren’t there. Your lips stay in a straight line, only opening to snarl when your fist slams against the two way.

           “She became incredible hostile on the plane over,” Mrs. TSA said in the corner of the room. “Flight attendant said she asked for the Princess and tried to get into the cockpit when she was told where they were headed. She was pinned by your security after getting violent.”

           The Dora Milaje in question stands at attention on the left of Okoye. She was charged to protect you both in Wakanda and on the plane over. There was a long conversation between you and Okoye about just how far their protection would last. Although decent at blending in at political functions or fancy-ass parties, they might stand out at your day job.

           There was still a bruise under your left shoulder blade where you were pinned. It took some awkward weeks, but you eventually had created a relationship with your guard. The plane rides becoming more than just awkward glances to each other. T’challa knew this; it just showed how mad you must have become to have your own guard have to take you down.

           “Did anyone talk to you before the flight?” He asks in their mother language.

           “Only the attendants, she received a drink from the one she had attacked.” None of the three were turning their heads to talk to each other.

           You had stopped screaming for Princess Shuri when you were left alone in a room. With nobody to hear you there was no point in asking questions. Instead your energy going into escape; bashing against the mirror, ripping the door handle and even throwing the chair against the wall as though it would break through.

           They didn’t have to ask why you’d be demanding for Shuri when the King was right there. Shuri was arguably more valuable than T’challa was. Although your relationship hadn’t reached that point yet, if he were to die there would be a replacement within a few years. Shuri on the other hand, a mind like that would be impossible to replace within this lifetime. Far more valuable than all the Vibranium in the world.

           Something was inside you, and you were screaming to be let out.

           Pietro Maximoff:

         Pietro sleeps like the dead at night. One of the few heroes who understood the importance of a good night’s sleep. He’d sleep like a starfish, laying diagonally across the bed, blanket half off and already snoring when you’d come in. Having to slide yourself into the small areas he wasn’t covering. You had to be careful where you slept, too close to a spooning position and he’d roll right on top of you. Nice with a bigger guy, one that’s raw muscle and bones? Not so much.

           That night you were sleeping in a curled ball towards the bathroom door. Pietro on his back, arms spread and leg open. Warmth from your belly button to sternum sat you up in bed. Hands crawling over the sheets to your hands and knees, touching your man’s chest to ensure he really is there.

           Like many nights when you couldn’t sleep you straddle his stomach. Backside above his crotch and pressing forward so when his eyes would eventually open he’d be staring at you.

           Although a hard snorer Pietro knew what the weight of his woman felt like. In his half-sleep daze, he moans at being awoken yet his hands still slide up your thighs. Starting at your knees and ending at your hips. Waiting for the next phase where you starting kissing him lightly until he starts to talk.

           Hands cup his face. Slight smile on his face at his scruff being toyed with. Expecting the first light kiss between his eyes.

           Instead your hands slide down just an inch and squeeze.

           Strangulation is so much harder than any movie have described. Taking more than several minutes to keep the air from getting in. And it’s best to be done on someone smaller than you, someone you can pin down and keep down to get your task done.

           You were singled out to send a message of fear instead of an assassination. To show that they can even reach the Avenger’s bed partners.

           Pietro, like most sensible people, grab your wrists.

           He tries to speak but all your weight is being leaned into his throat. Only noise to come out were gagged and barely there. Reaching your shoulders and shoving as hard as he could. Spit hitting your face while he begins to cough out in desperation.

           Faster than hell but not that strong he tries to pull your wrists away. A point of mockery that you were slightly stronger than him after starting a workout routine with Wanda. He really didn’t seem to care, joking that it was nice you could pin him down. But that was almost exclusively to the arms, his legs could still destroy you.

           Feet pressed against the bed he tries to buck you off. Hands gripping your shoulders and rolling you both off the bed. Pietro lands on top of you, fall and landing against the carpet knock whatever was holding you out. The machine’s signal was weak and extremely fragile, broken with a gun shot the next night after a mission.

           Because of this you wake up to Pietro pinning you to the carpet. He was panting but not a look of anger on his face. The same look you had when falling in the shower and hurt your shoulder.

           “Pet?” You asked, wrists held together in front of you.

           He wouldn’t talk until Wanda confirmed there was nothing in your head. Wearing a turtle neck and scarves for the next few days. Refusing to tell you why.

                     Peter Parker:

         You were one of hundreds hit by this aura blasted across the airwaves.

           Last thing you remember is being in your living room. Occasionally glancing up from your homework to whatever random reality TV was on. One moment a woman is screaming at another and the next you’re standing on the edge of your building.

           It was lucky the villain of the story didn’t consider launching their message over streaming serves. This dwindled the victims list down significantly, but every hero in the city was on overtime, catching and stopping those about to step off their buildings.

           Four others in your building stand alongside you. Staring over the buildings without a single thought in your mind. Foot out, weight forward and you come back to yourself.

           It was the same story with the other victims. Aside from the rushing wind, the world is silent for several beats. Like a nightmare of falling but this time you can scream. A hundred people screaming in unison louder than a jet engine through the city and into the next state.

           Screaming didn’t stop even when the falling did. It was like hitting a wall, breath knocked from you, grabbing around the man suddenly holding you.

           The same way you had the nightmare of falling and couldn’t scream, waking up and not being able to breathe. Watching the ground and buildings go past, arms gripping the hell out of whatever was carrying you.

           “Babe, babe, air.” You’re back where you started. Arms and legs still wrapped around your savior and refusing to let go.

           “Sorry, I’m sorry.” Your feet are flat and immediately your butt hits the roof falling back onto it.

           It’s the hardest part of being a hero. Every fiber of him screaming to hold you while the sense are screaming about those leaving the roofs and bridge. His hands are on your shoulders, squeezing harder than he should. “I’ll be back,” You’re nodding but still staring to the roof. “I promise.”

           He did come back, eventually. Not until after you found out the death toll.

         Stephen Strange:

         Wong had long since given up keeping you from the library. You playing with the books was really the equivalent of a toddler going through their father’s stack of work papers. The paper’s themselves wouldn’t do anything but you could rip or break them. So long as Strange was in there with you, he didn’t seem to care.

           With Stephen already inside Wong didn’t look up as you pass. He wouldn’t have caught the slight blue ring in your left eye, but he might have noticed your too straight back or the bike still running outside the sanctum.

           For a doctor Stephen has incredibly poor posture. Leaning forward over the table; practicing and memorizing a text he already knew by heart.

           “Accidentally tear another page and I’m locking you out.” He says with flipping of a page. Expecting your retort of what you’d lock him out of to come next. When the only thing he gets back is silence it’s a fair assumption that you had left out of boredom.

           It was like a hyper realistic dream. One where anything can happen to you and you’d feel nothing physically. Your bare feet walking over a stone floor without feeling the chill. Hands on either of Stephen shoulders, the stupid robe was thick and layered. Overly so, you had complained about it more than once while trying to strip it form him. Eventually giving up and moving the cloth that was needed to continue.

           His collar had enough give to pull from his neck, showing the junction between his neck and shoulder. His head tilts out of habit as it was one of the few places of skin you got quick and easy access to. Like those time before your lips kiss the space, a quick peck followed by a longer suck.

           He doesn’t look away from the book. His surgeon training keeping him focus on one thing even the distractions are physical. One hand still squeezing the shoulder, the other going to your hip. You had taken this as a challenge before, leaving hickeys before he would even acknowledge you. Mouth opening against his shoulder, teeth gently scrapping along the skin.

           That Cloak hasn’t liked you from the get-go. You still didn’t know how the thing worked; at first thinking it was like an AI or robot that saw you as a threat to it’s owner. But now It seemed to be actually sentient, the floating stopping for a second when you had asked where the circuits were, you likely offended him (her, it). Now you knew that thing was just jealous. Physically getting between you and Stephen when you’d embrace, you swore he had tripped you more than once.

           It had never tried to kill you before.

           Whiplash wasn’t that far off of a thought when you’re ripped backwards by the neck. Cloak covering your face and pressed behind your head like a Venus-fly trap. Grabbing and gripping the red that took over your entire vision, the fabric too strong for your nails to dig through.

           Most small fire-arms now a days have a firing pin lock or a drop-safety. Thankfully yours was one of them; landing on it’s side after you dropped it from being attacked.

           The black metal was a nasty scar compared to the stone floors and walls. A machine that might as well be painted “don’t belong here”, in the isles between books and tables. He didn’t even know you had one, never thinking about what really was in the safe under your bed.

         Matt Murdock:

         Purple, a concept Matt remembers from his childhood. Specifically, a balloon he had seen once, lasting only a few seconds but becoming a constant indicator. Later on, another kid at the orphanage proclaimed “the purple syrup is the worst” when they happened to be with the nurse at the same time. To this day he still associates any liquid medicine to be purple.

           It’s also the dress you were wearing at that restaurant.

           Over the shit head’s shoulder, you see a couple walking by. One of thousands that you’ve seen over the past four days walking through areas you’ve never considered going. This one, though, they backtrack to the window. The woman practically pressing her face against the glass, hands on either side of her eyes to combat the streetlight glare.

           The man was already inside the restaurant, woman following quickly behind.

           Karen was a slim woman, but on a mission, you wouldn’t be able to stop her. Walking past Matt, and side stepping the host before he could ask “Do you have a reservation?” Matt could only follow in her wake, knowing the art of walking with a goal and pretending not to hear the “Sir? Sir?”

           Karen says your name before reaching the table. “Where have you been? We’ve all been freaking out.”

           Matt is by her side closest to you. Everything was wrong about you right now; the shampoo you used was different, smell of your apartment wasn’t there and someone else, the man across from you, had had his hands on your arms and back. Enough that his cologne was now in your skin.

           “Is this lovely one your friend, Dear?” Shithead asks, looking up to Karen.

           Matt’s hand goes where it belongs; to your shoulder. A gentle slide from the shoulder blade to over your dress strap so the entire shoulder was in his palm. Your opposite hand covers his, it was what you did. Your way to tell him “You didn’t scare me”, after the first few times he had done this made you jump or tickled enough to let out a noise.

           “Dear,” That voice, Mr. Kilgrave’s voice. “You don’t know these people, you’re not his.”

           Who the fuck is touching you?

           “Sir, please let go of me.” Your childhood lessons of manners first, profanity next kicked in at this unknown man touching you. Your shoulder pulled back, chair scrapping against the carpet to make some distance between you and the wall.

           The blond woman steps closer to you, saying your name.

           How’d she know it?

           “I’m sorry, I really don’t you. Either of you.” You look to Mr. Kilgrave, eyes asking him what was going on.

           “I want them to go, you want them to leave, too.” He says.

           Wow, people can just be so rude. This guy touching you, girl getting way too close…

           “This is a private dinner; can you leave us alone?” You snap, manners starting to bleed out.

           “We’re not just going to leave you.” Blondie states.

           The guy just stared for a minute. Moving past your table and taking Blondie’s arm. “Karen, she’s telling the truth.”

           It’d be another few seconds before Blondie relented, turning and walking away with hard and quick strides. The guy didn’t look back at you. It was likely because he was blind, based on the cane.

           “Enjoy the date,” Mr. Kilgrave says. Lifting his wine glass in a cheers position. “It’s romantic.”

           You raise your glass to meet his.

           It was a very romantic date.

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

Carol Danvers:

          It’s a wiggling whisper in your ear that takes you out of bed. A sudden, absolutely overwhelming urge to explore keeps your from caring about gently moving Carol’s arm. Sliding right out, walking barefoot across metal and out the door with no handle.

           Out of all the alien ships you’ve been on (count 1) this was easily the biggest. You had gotten a quick tour of the ship by the captain. A green woman who had introduced her as one of the Skrull, she was kind and answered whatever stupid question that came out of you. Mostly concerning what celebrity or politician her people could disguise themselves as. At no point did you ask about security or guard shifts or even if there were cameras in space.

           Even so you seemed to know exactly where and which corners to duck behind. Same goes for the Skrulls, never had you asked how durable they were, but it was almost hilarious how easily they were taken out with a punch in the right place.

           Trying to remember what exactly happened and all you can manage is typing furiously without ever looking at the keyboard or the screen. Instead your eyes are half-closed, head rocking back and forth worse then any boring class you had ever been in. A few times your head hits the back of the chair and you’d snap right up, getting a glance of information and pictures of pure light and color.

           The dream ends so much more violently then it had started. With grabbing and barely attempted fighting that might have been better placed in a very low brow bar. Ending completely with a too hot arm around your neck and quiet asking for you to “please, please stop.”

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

Shang-Chi

It was revenge for his father’s crime that you were chosen.

It was days ago that a street performer had hypnotized you. In that time Katy had made a reservation for their friend group. Celebrating an anniversary that demanded a high-end place with a view of the city and prices that would add up to half your rent.

Breaking glass from the kitchen triggered the hypnotism. Shang didn’t notice when your hand slid from his leg. Standing from the table Katy mentioning that you all “just got here, and you already had to pee?”

You didn’t respond. Instead walking away from the table to the view over the city. Standing side by side with couples who had made their own way to the view.

Shang stood to follow. Assuming to understand your mind and ready to provide you company.

Instead of getting a romantic embrace and a smile Shang get’s a horror show. Watching his significant other push themselves up and over the railing. Screams from the couples around louder than his feet when he sprinted towards the railing.

It’s amazing the glass railing didn’t crack when Shang’s knees slammed into it. Doubled over to reach far as possible where you had fallen. Catching your forearm in a hold that would leave a bruise in the morning.

This was where you came to. Staring down the several stories with nothing beneath your feet. It’s understandable that you started to scream.

#Avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #Daredevil #steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #matt murdock x reader #t'challa x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barns x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #dr. strange x reader #attempted murder #Mind control #gun violence #violent #angst #thor x reader #reader insert #carol danvers #Carol danvers x reader #Captain Marvel x reader #Shang chi x reader

[eye-raq]

Let’s Unwind

Adonis x Bianca 

Summary: Adonis and Bianca haven’t experienced any time to themselves lately because of their busy schedules. But tonight is the night for them to unwind with drinks, food, and good sex.

This was a fic request! I hope it’s just as fluffy as the person wanted it to be.

“Hey, Adonis?”

Bianca walked into their wide open living room, Adonis seated on the couch in front of their 86” LED Smart TV, watching Sports Illustrated. They were discussing the big fight he had just two days ago, the one where he came out on top, yet again. They all celebrated as a group with his team and his family. Rocky couldn’t make it, but he gave his congratulations and promised to visit soon.

Bianca held a sleeping Amara as she tucked herself in a comfortable spot on the couch. Amara cooed, stirring in her sleep before gripping one of Bianca’s fingers tightly, causing Bianca to smile before looking up at her husband.

“Donnie?”

“Yeah.” He turns down the TV, giving B his undivided attention now.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Adonis blinked twice before raising his brows in question.

“Thinking what B?”

“Well, we’ve both been pretty tied up with work and I’ve been thinking that we should make it a priority to do husband and wife things.”

Adonis chuckles.

“We don’t do that shit now?” He had a confused expression that made B want to mush his face.

“Married couples don’t just come home late at night from studio sessions or work out sessions to take separate showers and get in a quickie.” She says with sarcasm.

“So what you saying, that’s all we are?” He points an accusatory finger between them both.

“Stop it, D. What I’m saying is I want us to be more romantic. Let’s go on Friday night dinner dates, have picnics on the hood of your car, pop up at each other's work places with gifts or small talk, have risky sex, have family dinner, TRAVEL THE WORLD. Anything…”

Bianca has Adonis’s attention now, causing him to flick the TV off on a scene of him K.O.’ing a famous Mexican boxer.

“I’m listening B. I want all those things too, I want to keep our relationship romantic, fun, passionate, all that.” He was having trouble expressing himself. Bianca grips his hand, running a thumb over the scarring on his knuckles.

“Since we are both on the same page, why don’t you get dressed in something nice and make us a dinner reservation.” Adonis gives her a half smirk, before gripping her chin to kiss her soft lips. He loved the little humming sounds that escaped her mouth each time he would kiss her, her soft delicate hands running over his face, the rings on her fingers adding temperature to his skin that caused him to shiver pleasantly.

“I called your mom, and she said she would be more than happy to take Amara for the night while we enjoy ourselves. She said she’s a phone call away when we need time alone.”

Both Adonis and Bianca stared down at their sleeping beauty, Adonis leaning in to kiss her tiny feet causing Bianca to smile. Finally lifted from the couch, Bianca places Amara in her crib to get ready, while Adonis went to take a quick shower. He figured B would want to do a fancy steak house dinner, so he booked a reservation at The Capital Grille. Bianca wanted them both to dress nice for the occasion, so Adonis put on a tailored suit of his in a navy blue color with gold cufflinks and a white dress shirt underneath, not completely buttoned. He sat on his bed to tie up the laces on his dress shoes, watching his woman at her vanity applying some makeup. She went for a red lip, using the Fenty Beauty Stunna Lip Paint, her eyes smokey to bring out the big brown irises she had, her hair pressed straight, the strands clinging to the beautiful creamy skin of her back. She had on a backless black cocktail dress with a slit on the side to give a teasing view of her killer legs. Her feet were covered in Saint Laurent heels.

Adonis couldn’t wait to get back to their place so he could properly dissect his women with his tongue, and stroke her surface with his fingers. Bianca caught him staring, a goofy grin on her face.

“You like what you see?”

“Hell yeah, you lucky we have dinner first because I’d rather skip that and eat you.”

“So you’re a cannibal now?”

They both shared a laugh.

“Hurry up beautiful so we can drop Amara off.”

Bianca put on her last Tiffany diamond earring before grabbing her black clutch, smoothing her dress over her hips.

“Okay, so I think I have everything Amara needs. Her bottle cleaner, I packed extra breast milk just in case, her favorite pacifier, those new booties that keeps her feet warm, extra pampers…”

“Babe. It’s cool, aight?  My mom will be fine she can handle it B.” Bianca squeezes her eyes shut, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Okay...I’m overreacting. You ready?”

“You look so damn sexy tonight.”

Adonis drinks from the bottle of Champagne sitting on ice, watching Bianca sip her wine in a sexy manner, her eyes low and fluttery.

“You look just as good yourself Mr. Creed.” She pulls out a tiny mirror to check her lips, smacking them together.

“Keep doing that to your lips they’ll be staining this dick in a minute.”

Bianca couldn’t lie, she wanted Adonis to do the things he talked big about, but her stomach rumbled and she needed some food.

“Let me eat first I’m STARVING.”

Right on cue, the waiter comes over with their tray of food. Bianca ordered a prime rib with Parmesan cheese crust, creamed spinach, and a baked sweet potato with brown sugar maple glaze and butter. Adonis had a ribeye with caramelized mushrooms and onions, garlic butter mashed potatoes, and roasted broccoli with green peppers and onions. It was tender, savory, and juicy, each bite getting better than the last. Both of them could eat, and that’s all they did too, Bianca getting thicker all over. Donnie definitely took notice when she would walk out of the bathroom in her naked glory, rubbing herself down with her homemade whipped body butter. The voice inside his head begged him to calm the heat that began to brew deep within his skin, deciding on ignoring the erection that attempted to grow and ask his women about her music.

“Tell me about the studio sessions lately, how have they been going for you?” Bianca removed her napkin from her lap, dabbing her mouth delicately, before clearing her throat to speak.

“I’m not gonna lie, I may have hit a snag.” Bianca finally spoke with a sound of defeat in her tone.

“A snag? Where exactly?” Adonis ran his tongue over his teeth, his eyes focused on his women as her shoulders slouched, reaching to pour a generous amount of champagne into her glass.

“Well...for one I haven’t had the motivation. Every time I feel like I have a lyric, just a SPARK, something, it just falls flat.” Her silky tresses from the right side of her face slipped over her shoulder, causing her to stroke it back, exposing her creamy skin over her protruding clavicles.

“I’ve been thinking about Amara a lot lately, and the hearing tests, the pressure from everyone expecting more from me now that I’ve given them this gift, my music.” She lets out a breath that sounded strained.

“B. This is what I want you to do.”

Adonis took her hand in his, rubbing the surface with his thumb.

“When you walk in that studio, I want you to close those beautiful eyes of yours. Then, I want you to do what I see you do at home, just hum to yourself. Let that pretty little hum coarse through you like it’s awakening you. Stay still, and let the melody, whichever melody you decide to create, let it cloud your brain and let it get you into the zone.”

Adonis watched the downcast of her eyes, reaching across the table with his other hand to grip her chin softly, lifting her head, and making her look him in the eyes.

“Hey, like you always tell me before a fight, YOU GOT THIS. My girl did not get a record deal and become internet famous in less than a year for nothing.” Adonis playfully jabbed her chin, causing her to perk up more, taking that same hand to kiss it, leaving a matte red lip stain along his almond skin.

“You are the epitome of a man. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have you.” Adonis gives her a soft smile, a light chuckle escaping his throat.

“I should say that about you, girl. You and Mara, and my mom are the light in my life. After the entire Drago thing, I’ve grown and… I needed that.”

Bianca’s bright smile could have swoon the entire restaurant, her hand bashfully coming up to cover her face, her eyes on Adonis unwavering.

“You are something, you beautiful human.” She loved the allure in his eyes, she loved the way he softly smiled at her like she was the only one in that room. She loved how his fingers would caress her hand gently and without pause, making her woozy.

“Adonis Creed?”

Adonis’ eyes looked up and over at a young man who looked to be about 18 years of age, an excited gleam in his eyes and a broad smile.

“Yeah, how you doing man.” Adonis put his hand out to shake the teenage boys, watching as he reluctantly shook his hand with a nervous gleam in his eyes.

“I recognized you from my graduation dinner party and I figured why not take a chance and say hi.” The young boy reminded Adonis of himself when he was 18.

“Not a problem bro, you box?”

“Yeah! I’ve been doing it since I was 7.”

“You love it? Like enough to want to pursue it?”

The boy nodded his head rapidly, causing Bianca to laugh lightly.

“That’s wassup, what’s your name?”

“Calvin.” He stuttered.

“Listen, Calvin.” Adonis pulled out his phone, handing it over to the boy.

“Why don’t you put your cell number in there, and I’ll contact you about private boxing sessions with me, hows that sound to you?” Bianca looked at Adonis as if he were something to cherish as if he were a piece of heaven.

“For real?! MAN of course definitely. I would really appreciate that.” Calvin couldn’t stop giving his thanks, his smile still plastered and his head shaking back and forth in astonishment.

After he entered his number, Calvin said his final goodbyes to Bianca and Adonis, retiring to his family with more pep in his step.

Adonis took a sip from his glass, eyes gazing out into the street of LA, watching people cruise by and the palm trees sway. He could feel the eyes of his wife on him then, so he looked up to find Bianca with glossy eyes and a genuine smile on her lips.

“That was really fucking nice of you D.” She wiped at her eye quick, grabbing both of his hands.

“Thanks, baby, I saw something in him that reminded me of how I was. And plus, I love seeing young black boys involved in other things besides what’s happening on the block.”

Not wanting to let their food go to waste, the both of them continued to eat, silence hanging between them as the silverware clashed with the plates of food. Nothing needed to be said, just his presence was enough for Bianca and the same for Adonis. Peeking at each other, and the bare skin of Bianca’s leg rubbing against Adonis was just enough to spark heat.

—-

Her body stood in front of the ceiling to floor mirrors of their luxury loft, her hand pressed to the glass as one of her new singles, Midnight,  played softly in the background. The song drummed through her, causing Bianca to sway her hips, eyes closed as she took in the lull of the sensual instrumental and her soft voice singing about losing control to a man.

Creeping up behind her with unheard footsteps was her husband, both of his hands running up the length of her arms, up and over her shoulders, and then down her exposed back before resting at her hips. Bianca lets out a soft chuckle, her breath hitching softly as Adonis’ body pressed firmly against hers.

“What was going through your mind when you wrote this?” The drag of his voice when he asked her that had her body pressing further against him, her eyes closing against the cityscape of LA.

“I was thinking...of how close I wish you were with me. How being away from you, even for a second, has me itching for your hands.”

Adonis strokes his lips over her ear.

“Just my hands?”

Bianca quirks a brow, leaning her head back to look him in his eyes.

“And your mouth.” Adonis took no time to press his lips to her divine lips. Bianca melted against the moist cushion of his lips, her body automatically turning to face him as their tongues crashed like dangerous waves.

“Keep kissing me like that and watch what happens.” Adonis teases.

“You started it D. Now you gotta finish it. I’m horny husband. I want you to fuck me.”

Adonis’ lips paused over Bianca’s his eyes searching hers, taking in the heat that began to flare behind her pretty brown irises. He was certain that the heat looked just the same within his.

Adonis and Bianca kissed further, practically sucking each other's faces, the back of Bianca’s legs crashing with the arm of their black leather couch, falling crimson her back causing her dress to hike up. She giggles from the surprise change in position, causing Adonis to clamp a fist to his mouth, snorting laughter.

“Oh god, we couldn’t even make it to the bed.” She shakes her head, watching Adonis remove his jacket and shirt.

“Doesn’t matter what surface I fuck you on, just as long as I feel that good pussy I’m straight.”

Adonis took no time to rest his body over hers, kissing her further while his hands roamed. She moaned sweetly into his mouth, her heart drumming against his solid chest frantically, and her hands rubbing over the waves on his head.

The intense passion that they both still felt for each other was mind blowing and gratifying. This is what they both wanted, a marriage where even the slightest gesture makes them erupt in pleasure.

Adonis began kissing from Bianca’s temple, down her face, and to her neck, taking his tongue to trail spit after every kiss. She whispered a repeated yes into his ear like a soft echo, her back arching into his solid frame, causing him to take his hands, removing the fabric of her dress inch by inch until it pooled around her waist.

“I can’t get enough of you ma, I need you ma.” Adonis nibbles on her clavicles, his eyes staring up at her extended head, her eyes low and lustful up at the ceiling.

“Keep going, don't stop.” His mouth finally found one of her caramel nipples, taking his lips to latch around one, savoring the sweet skin. He noticed how her skin shimmers with glitter, his other hand coming up to cup her breast. She chokes on that home groan, her fingers itching to grip the leather of the couch.

One of her smooth legs runs up Adonis’ side, her toes trying to push his black slacks down his hips.

“Skin Adonis, I wanna feel more skin.” Donnie kisses in between her breasts, giving her a lazy lopsided grin.

“Okay, wifey.” Adonis lifts up, approach Bianca at the head of the couch, watching as she takes her dainty fingers, undoing his pants, allowing them to fall loosely, her fingertips taking no time to pull his Calvin Klein briefs down, revealing a smooth veiny shaft, that hung with a throbbing erection. Bianca lifts her head to kiss him on the tip, before licking him there slow, her eyes watching every move. Adonis brings a hand to her head, running his fingers through her pressed hair, gripping the silky strands as he rubbed them between his fingertips.

Head from Bianca was something Adonis could never get over. It always brought him back to the first time he experienced it, that look in her eyes and the way her mouth did tantalizing things had him hooked, even before he had sex with her. She gripped him tightly, wetting him up with her spit and squeezing him good with her lips. Adonis hisses, his eyebrows worrying and his lips attacked by his teeth. Bianca could stare at that list filled face for hours, causing her to bob her head quicker over his length, earning a low but slow fuckkkkk to escape him. She was addicted to her husband's dick, and with every suck, she felt him quiver or twitch.

“Shit B, damn B….fuckkk baby.” His head falls back, hand coming down hard to the back of her head as he came, a low cry escaping his mouth.

Adonis was on his knees now, gazing into the pretty peach that Bianca had nestled between her legs, the wet fruit begging to be licked and many other things. Adonis could never forget the way she tasted; like a sweet piece of fruit dipped in fresh honey from a honeycomb. Bianca had an obsession with eating honeycombs too, the taste was overly sweet and the texture sticky, like how her pussy was now. Adonis trailed his tongue flat against her, liking from her hole all the way to her clit. No more quiet moans escaped her mouth, her heeled feet pointed to the sky and her ring-covered fingers rubbing over his head. Bianca tilts her head, watching the light from the city and the moon reflect off of his face and that shiny tongue that battled to get a taste.

Her legs drew back further, and her face contorted in bewilderment, her man's eyes never leaving hers, the undeniable attraction so clear and so pure. He took those lips and latched onto her clit, sucking deep without retracting, obscene noises loud between them and her creamy thighs shaking.

“Ah, take it.” She moans. Adonis was proud that he still made her feel this way. He opened up wide, attempting to kiss her inner folds, his lips brushing over every surface with persistent need, her legs never clamping around his head. She wanted, needed, craved him.

“Keep that up and watch I cum.” The innocent way she spoke that had the primal nature within him growl.

“I guess I gotta keep going right?” He spoke into her pussy with a low voice.

He kept going and going with the same motions, now adding two fingers, curling them over her g spot. The leather grew sweaty from her perspiration, a repeated gasp escaping her mouth like a melody, causing her belly to tremble, and her legs to shake as she orgasmed without warning. Adonis chased her cum, still sucking her through it until he felt she had enough.

——-

“I love you.” She whispered into his ear before sucking on his earlobe. They were on their second position that night, Adonis sinking back into her tight pussy, Bianca’s hips bringing him closer, her face was buried into the carpet, and her body was arched off of the ground, her pussy quivering around him with each deep pound. His strokes weren’t rushed, it felt like he was trying to remember her this way like he wanted to map out how her pussy felt around him.

“I love you, I love this pussy.” Adonis ran his fingers through her head before gripping tight, his eyes enjoying the way her back looked. Her arch was deep, and her spin dipped in the middle, making him trail his thumb there, catching up the sweat.

“Fuck me, harder.” Whatever she wanted, Adonis would give her, his hips slapped into her ass swiftly, her fingers rubbing into the carpet with a tremble.

“Touch me more.” She could feel the palms of his hand's jiggle and pinch her ass, before trailing both hands up her slim waist, digging his fingers into her flesh. Adonis buries himself deeper, bending over to kiss her spine.

“Throw that ass back,” Adonis slapped her ass, watching as B, began grinding her hips back over him slowly, a moan leaving her mouth after every stroke.

“Look at you. So damn beautiful with this dick in you. Such a beautiful sight baby.” His eyes couldn’t leave the nasty way her pussy swallowed him repeatedly. He felt her clench him, a hiss escaping his mouth.

“I felt that too, cum on this dick B.” Adonis began thrusting to meet her strokes, her ass bouncing and her cries muffled by the carpet.

“AHHHHH.” Adonis lets out a growl so deep Bianca could feel it vibrating through her flesh. She couldn’t even warn him, her words jumbled as she came on him for the third time that night.

LA received a beautiful view that evening, Adonis pressing Bianca’s body into the glass window, her legs around his waist as she bounced over him with a slow, forceful jerk of her body. She had her arms hanging loosely around his neck, and her eyes closed in bliss, head smashed against the thick glass. Adonis loves the image of his wife on him, her skin flushed, lipstick smeared, hair curling in the roots, her eyes wet in the corners. She was so precious, the vision of her made him want to fuck her harder.

“Yes, Donnie, yes give it to me, fuck me, I miss this!” She brought a hand to the back of his head, her nails grazing his head.

“You feel so good, you always feel so good.” He whispers, bringing both of his hands around her to hold her up, bouncing her rough over him. His wife, his beloved, his beautiful black women, she was a sight to see.

“B, fuck…”

“Cum in me, give it to me.”

“Imma give it to you baby, I promise.”

“Yeah, ohmygod ohmygod.”

“Take it, girl, take this dick…”

“FUCK D!” She clenched around him, her head falling back.

“Damn girl.” Adonis smacked her ass, his body shivering from how sensitive he was. He walked back to the couch with her still around him, falling back against it while his women bounced on him, leaning forward to kiss and nibble on his lips with her his grinding deep and his hands buried into the flesh of her ass. Her hands crashed with the couch on either side of his head, her back arching and rolling. Adonis lay there stunned, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth hanging open. Bianca arched deeper before lifting from him with a swing of her head, her hair crashing with her face, bringing Adonis hands to grip her breasts.

“I’m fucking this dick D, this is my dick.”

She began bouncing, earning a slap to her ass, and a string of moans from him.

“This fucking pussy, GOT DAMN.” His head extended, eyes squeezed shut.

“This pussy is straight fire.” He couldn’t hold back anymore, his hips meeting hers, slapping skin loud. Bianca practically clawed his chest, her body shaking over him in another orgasm, drawing him on further.

“SHITTTTT!!” Adonis lifts from the couch, wrapping his arms around her waist, his hips snapping up into her rough before finally, with a shake, cumming within her deep, shooting his cum against her cervix spurt after spurt. His lips latched to her neck, soft mumbling vibrating against her flesh. The hold he had on her was tight, and the loud thumping of his heart against her chest made her squeeze him tighter.

“If I told you, that this felt like the first time we had sex, would you believe me?” Bianca rubbed her nose into Adonis’s sweaty shoulder. 

“I would, but what if I told you that it was EVEN BETTER than the first time we had sex?” Adonis kisses her hairline, enjoying the way her body bounced in his lap from laughter.

“It’s probably because of how freaky I’ve grown to be with you.” Adonis hummed in agreement.

“I’m glad we did this B, it just goes to show how much we still care for each other.” His fingertips rubbed at her back, making her eyes close.

“Just keep loving me like you do, it’s the best feeling in the world.” 

@panthergoddessbast @whoramilaje @allhailnjadaka @vikkidc @erikismybitch @eriknutinthispoosy @hearteyes-for-killmonger @blackpantherismyish @trevantesbrat @bakaris-shorty @wifin-niggaz @killmonger-dolan @killmongersaidheyauntie @killmongersgurl @killmongerdispussy @killmongerthirst @killmongersmistress @princessstevens @princesskillmonger @bartierbakarimobisson @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @vibranium-chakra @muse-of-mbaku @thiccdaddy-mbaku @madamslayyy @chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @laketaj24 @supersizemeplz @abeautifulmindexposed @blxckquiescent @thehomierobbstark @thehonorablekingerik @missmohnique @missumuch1918 @unfriendly-blk-hottie @blue-sunflowerr @youreadthatright @youcantkillamutant @marvelpotterlove @drsunshine97 @iamrheaspeaks @loosewindmill @janelledarling @purple-apricots @softnani @forbeautyandlife @deja-r @calitexastrillgoddess @wakandawinning @jozigrrl @halcyonscry @shesakillerkween @raysunshine78 @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @shookmcgookqueen @teheeboo @disneysdarlingdiva @hidden-treasures21 @alexundefined @thadelightfulone 

[pixieungerstories]

Housemate - 9

As always the inspiration board for this story can be seen here. Patreon readers are ten chapters ahead, plus I’m running a orc story and a werewolf story.  I update three times a week.

Tristan was washing breakfast dishes as Vinny and Derick went out on their regularly scheduled run.  “Fuck, I miss having sex!”  He wasn’t expecting to have anyone listening to him so the chorus of agreement came as a surprise.  He looked over his shoulder to find pretty much everyone else looking out the window, watching Vinny’s ass as she jogged away from the house.

Kogan cleared his throat, “You have no idea how good she smells, how good she feels all rubbed up against my back on the bike.  What it’s like being between those legs and knowing they aren’t for me.”

Kevin shrugged, “Derick’s a werewolf.  He would share.”

Kogan and Bazur glared at him.  Bazur said, “that isn’t his call, it’s hers.”

Kevin shrugged again, “He would be ok with it though.”

Tristan pulled his hands out of the dish water and wiped them on the towel so that he could face Thea.  “Did you figure out how to talk to her yet?”

Thea looked around nervously, “I say hi. She says hi.  I asked her how her day was.  She tells me.  She asked me how I’m doing and I panic.  Then I run away like ninety percent of the time.”

“That’s a no then,” Kogan said flatly.

Tristan considered how ashamed Thea looked, “I don’t know.  It sounds like progress to me.”

Thea was glaring at Kogan, “Look!  Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep from dropping webbing around her?  Women don’t look at me!  Mostly they scream and run away.  It’s not like I have experience with this sort of thing!”

Now Tristan snorted, “Trust me, experience is overrated.  I had some random woman ‘accidentally’ grab my balls in the produce aisle yesterday.  I like the having enough money to be retired part, but the world knowing what I did to get it isn’t that great.”

They were all staring at him in horror.  Thea asked, “How does someone accidentally grab your balls?” at the exact same time as Kevin asked, “Was she cute?”  Which was mere seconds before Bazur kicked Kevin.

Tristan decided to just ignore that whole exchange and said, “I wish they would just fuck and get it over with.  All this dancing around the idea is driving me nuts.”

Kogan shook his head, “You say that now, but what do you think it will be like listening to the bedsprings squeak and having to smell them on each other? ”

There was a long moment of silence while they all considered this.

Kevin grumbled, “At least when you get horny, you can pick some woman up in the produce aisle. The only person rubbing my duck is me.”

Dren snorted, “That’s a personality issue more that any thing.”

Tristan went back to washing the dishes, blocking out the scuffle behind him.

——

Kogan was right about the listening in.  From what he could tell, Vinny’s bed was more or less right over his.  He was looking at seed catalogs and plotting out some planting options for a client when her phone rang.  He could only hear her side of the conversation, but it was apparent that she was picking up an extra shift at work tomorrow.  Moments later she came bounding down the stairs.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he teased.

Vinny grinned, “I got offered an extra shift at work tomorrow!  I can even take it, as long as I buy the stuff for supper tomorrow now.”

Tristan nodded.  There were enough of them that even the new fridge pretty much only held a day’s worth of food. “I’ll drive you.”

Vinny looked torn. “I don’t want to bother you when you are working.”

Tristan nodded.  “Yeah, but it’s always a hell of a lot of groceries for you to juggle on the bus.”

Now she just looked embarrassed.  She started to say something, then stopped, blushed and nodded.

Tristan stood up.  “Trucks out back.”

It was a cliche, but Tristan drove a dually three quarter ton with the lift kit to make it a good height for him to work with.  He wasn’t the lightest guy around, plus he used it to haul trees and rocks for work.  He needed the payload.   In his case, the truck was painted the matte black of primer.  It suffered enough graffiti that he needed to be able to do his own touch ups.

He followed Vinny out to the garage that was accessible through the back alley.  She was able to get the door open on her own but was then stuck trying to figure out how to climb into the seat when he didn’t have running boards.   He hadn’t ever thought about that before.  He watched as she tried to find something to hang onto to pull herself up.  “Need a boost?”

“Um…” she had one hand on the interior door handle and one foot up on the truck floor but an experimental bounce showed she wasn’t going to be able to pull herself up.  She put her foot down and looked at him, “Yes, please.”

He suppressed a snort of laughter.  “Ok, butt towards the seat.  I’ll grab your waist, you grab my shoulders.  I will lift and set you on the seat, then you can swing your feet in, got it?”

“Yup.”

He had to do a fairly deep squat for her to reach his shoulders, but it went fairly smoothly.  He hadn’t ever been that close to her before.  She might be grinning at him, but her hands were shaking a little.  After she was seated, she reached for the door.  He caught her before she fell out.  “You just worry about your seat belt.  I’ll be a gentleman and get the door.”

Now she laughed, “Thank you, kind sir.”

She was fidgeting awkwardly as he pulled out of the garage, so he asked, “What’s on the menu for tomorrow?”

“I was going to do a stir fry, because it’s fast and I won’t have a lot of time when I get home.”

Tristan nodded.  When Vinny made stir fry she used every burner on the stove.  One for a massive pot of rice and three for woks.  Then people to serve themselves meat, if they wanted it and veg from each of the two woks.  One for crispy like carrots and pea pods and the other for soft like mushrooms and bok choy.  It was always delicious.

Tristan parked a little way from the door.  Before he turned the engine off he put a hand on Vinny’s arm.  “Let me help you out.  It’s a long way down and you won’t be working with a sprained ankle.”

Vinny chuckled, “Oh, come on!  That is such a cliche!”  Then she opened the door and looked down.  “Um.  I take that back.  I would take the help.”  As Tristan walked around to the other side she asked, “Don’t these things usually come with a step?”

“Yup.  It’s an optional add on, but this is fine for me and makes it harder to steal.”  The guys were right, she smelled good.  She was oblivious to the people watching them walk in to the store together.  Tristan wasn’t.  People always associated Minotaurs with either teamsters or porn.  He could feel them looking between Vinny and him trying to figure out which he was.  What she was.  Fuck.  He should have gotten one of the others to drive her.

Once in the store, Vinny ripped the list in half and gave him the smaller half.  He looked at it.  She had taken the part with the meat and sauces on it and left him the vegetable section.  Which was fine until he was inspecting the onions and felt a hand on his ass.  

It was followed immediately by Vinny saying in a loud voice, “What the HELL do you think you are doing?”

Tristan turned to face the heavily made up fifty year old from last time staring at Vinny in shock.

“Excuse me?  How dare you talk to me like that, young lady!”

“I won’t excuse you!  You were sexually assaulting my friend!”

Now the woman smirked, “Oh, he’s your ‘friend’ is he?”  She even did the air quotes.

Vinny was ignoring her.  She was looking at Tristan.  “This store has closed circuit cameras.  Do you want to press charges?   You would have an excellent case.”

Tristan looked at her, then down at the woman who was suddenly pale under her makeup.  “Not if she leaves,” he rumbled.

The woman bolted.  Vinny looked at him in concern, “Are you OK?”

Tristan nodded.

“God!  That was terrible! The nerve of some people!  I swear the last time some asshole did that to me I turned and punched him!  Afterwards, I wished I would have just pressed charges.”

He considered that.  “Does it happen to you very often?”

Vinny shrugged and started bagging some red onions, “Too often.  A couple of times a year.  Cat calling a few times a week.  Jackass stalker that doesn’t get that I don’t want to date him at least one a semester.”

Tristan nodded.  “I don’t really get the stalker thing, but cat calls are pretty much a daily thing.  Groping…” he shrugged, “I dunno.  Couple of times a week.”

Vinny frowned, “That’s horrible!”

Tristan shrugged.  “Nothing I can do about it.  If I pushed her away from me the judge wouldn’t side with the big guy who shoved a small human housewife.”

Vinny just looked sad.  “Let’s go pay for this stuff and get home.  People suck.”

Tristan nodded, “Most of them, yeah.”

After they paid, he helped her back into the truck, then sat in silence for a moment before saying, “Thank you for standing up for me.  That woman never even considered that I could press charges until you spoke up.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Tristan started the truck.  “Derick is a lucky guy.”

Vinny laughed, “People keep saying that, but he hasn’t gotten lucky yet.”

Tristan was concentrating on driving but he still said, “He gets to spend time with you.  That’s pretty damn lucky.”

——

The next day he went to go bid on a job and the husband showed him around the yard, talking about all the work his wife wanted.  Tristan nodded and took notes.    Then they went into the kitchen to discuss.  The wife was there.  He was shocked to see it was the woman from the grocery store.  He immediately tripled the amount he was going to quote to the husband.

She agreed.

“And I won’t be able to start until spring,” he added.

She nodded amicably.

The husband hesitated, “We’ll get back to you.”

——

He didn’t say much getting supper ready.  That wasn’t unusual for him.  He was regularly pissed off at how the world worked.  Vinny’s grumpiness was unexpected.

Derick was at work.  Bazur came down to eat, took one look at Vinny’s black expression and went back to his room to get pants.

Tristan nodded to her as he set the table, “What’s wrong?”

Vinny tensed, “Some neck beard slapped my ass when I brought him his food.  It put a crimp in my whole day, especially since it was Barry working as the manager today and he didn’t even ask the guy to leave.”

Tristan considered this, “Need me to beat him up for you?”

Vinny snorted, “Who?  Barry or the customer?”

Tristan shrugged.

After food was cleared and the dishes were watched, Tristan went to the TV room and to watch Big Dreams Small Space on Netflix.  He was just settling in with a mug of tea and his notebook when he heard Vinny come in.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.”

He wasn’t expecting for her to sit right next to him and have a little cry, but he was fully prepared to put an arm around her shoulders and pull his lap blanket over to cover her legs as well.

#monster #monster boyfriend #gargoyle #drider #werewolf #minotaur #mimic #orc #slime #gelatinous

[ayearofpike]

Falling

Tom Doherty Associates, 2007 402 pages, 24 chapters ISBN 978-0-7653-5644-4 LOC: PS3566.I486 F35 2007 OCLC: 73502344 Released March 6, 2007 (per B&N)

Matt Connor has been wronged by the girl he loves. Kelly Fienman has been wronged by the suspect she’s stalking. They’re both out for vengeance, but while Matt is upfront and honest about the stunt he plans to pull, he isn’t really honest with himself about what he actually wants to get — and for her part, Kelly pretends that her need for justice is both moral and absent. When their paths inevitably cross, they’re left with several huge questions: what is right? what is good? do these things intersect? is it OK if they don’t?

(Thanksgiving and a child’s birthday were NOT conducive to A Year of Pike, gang. Let’s see if I can pick it back up here in December.)

I remembered being really happy with this book the first time I read it. Like, OK, Pike is taking it easy on the kidlit, having maybe resigned himself to the understanding that his style no longer fits with popular expectations. Plus, this came probably three years after I’d read a recent predecessor, and a solid five years after I’d BOUGHT one  — I got Alosha and The Shaktra out of the library, never read The Yanti until just now, and then I saw Falling at a bookstore sometime in 2008. I read it and I loved it: so unexpected, such power, what a shift in tone and characters, what a strong and solid cliffhanger ending — literally! Surely there exists some kind of excited blog record of me finding this, so long after I’d decided Pike wasn’t for me anymore. After spending entirely too long trawling the depths of my LiveJournal, though, I can’t find one.

And the reread? Eh. As it turned out, I didn’t actually remember very much about this book. Parts of it want to be The Silence of the Lambs (and Pike even nods to that) but it doesn’t have the same power. The rest? So much speculation and estimation left up to the reader to really understand this closed-book antagonist, who is actually quite selfish but we don’t get her perspective. She doesn’t even monologue when she has our hero at literally the end of his rope. And the powerful scene at the end? More like a trickle to a halt, made even weaker by the unnecessary intercutting to the other character’s perspective as she oversees the end of her antagonist’s life. We’ll get there. I don’t know. Maybe I was so excited to get this, and to have a book where a baby’s life and future hangs in the balance right around the same time I was raising my own baby as a new at-home parent, that I overlooked another one of Pike’s letdown endings.

I forgot to talk in the last post about the ISBN shifting to 13 digits. This started in 2007: all new books would have a code that better matched up with international book listing codes. These last two have had both an ISBN-10 and an ISBN-13, I assume because he had both of them slated prior to the change, but I’ve decided to just list the newer code for simplicity’s sake. You can do more research if you feel like it, or even convert back and forth between ISBN-10 and 13. It doesn’t really affect my blog, but it’s a change and I wanted to mention it.

So Falling. It actually could have been a pretty straightforward story, with much of the bulk of the book spent exploring the mental attitudes involved in what it takes to go beyond the law, commit some kind of horrific deed that most people couldn’t imagine. The real problem with this story is that it tries to cram too much into it, and the one crime is so vile and base that it renders our antihero’s misdeed into almost seeming unimportant. But it’s not — Matt’s actions are horrible and indefensible, especially as we don’t actually get his villain’s perspective, no matter what someone else did that was totally gross. (I am so a parent: “I don’t care what Tommy did, you are not to act that way.”)

What the hell does Matt actually do? This is where Falling is good: it keeps us in suspense for the first good quarter of the book as we try to understand his plan and how it’s going to adversely affect the girl. Because of course his object of vengeance is a girl — the one who just dumped him, actually. She didn’t “just dump him,” though; she strung him along as “the only one” while she was still in contact with her rich “ex,” who she is now married to and has an unborn child with, a child that could only have been conceived while Matt was still seeing her. And it’s not his, it can’t be his, because she never let him stick it in. So Matt is going to fake his own death by crashing a personal aircraft in the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Meanwhile, he will parachute to a waiting boat, anchored in a shallower area, and assume a new identity until he can carry out the second part of his plan: kidnap the baby, months later, after everyone has forgotten his involvement with the woman.

Kelly is one of the FBI agents assigned to the kidnapping case. She’s actually just back on the job after a tragic and devastating incident with a previous suspect that has taken out a good chunk of her GI system. And this is where Falling has problems: this second story, totally unrelated to and unnecessary for understanding Matt’s motivations, is clung to and pushed on us constantly through the whole book, even as it threatens to be a more engaging tale of horrific glee. Like, I get why Pike didn’t just write this one (out of concerns of being accused of ripping off Thomas Harris) but this is really TWO suspense stories, and he hasn’t properly fleshed out the tale of Kelly and the Sex Murderin’ English Teacher.

Because that’s what’s happened: three-four months before the kidnapping, she gets pulled into an investigation on a dude who has made videos of himself having extremely consensual sex with rich women, tying them to the beds, confronting them about their obvious infidelity to their rich husbands, and then killing them by pouring corrosive acid on (and then INTO) their chests. She has a Ph.D in mythology and literature, which they need because the dude is throwin’ out all sorts of esoteric references and they think that knowing them will help them track him down. Of course, Kelly has gone into FBI work because she wants to be a hero, and so she breaks like EVERY protocol in investigating the trail of these obscure Asian myths back to either Ohio State or Ohio University, depending on which page you look at. (Does Pike know there’s a difference?) All the evidence points to a doctoral student, but it’s been manipulated that way by his faculty advisor, who is doing the sex murders because he caught his wife cheating with the dude. And now he’s going to kill Kelly the same way, only he hasn’t counted on her being a totally buff FBI agent who actually MOVES THE ENTIRE BED SHE’S TIED TO and makes the acid splash on the ropes, which she can now break to get at her gun and cap the fucker in the back of the neck. Of course, the acid has also splashed on her stomach and eaten into her organs, hence the GI problems. And also her husband is pissed that she went to such crazy lengths and endangered herself, to the point where if she goes back to the FBI he’s not willing to hang around and watch her kill herself. So he moves out and takes their young daughter with him.

I KNOW. This is a WAY more fuckin’ interesting story than oh, boo hoo, she was stringing me along so I’m gonna kidnap her baby. It’s too bad that he drags this shit out and doesn’t give it more consideration. But as with so much literature, we gotta accept the tragic male antihero versus the strong female agent who is still trying to figure out the boundaries of her moral code.

Yeah, there’s still more story. Matt hires a nanny under the table to help take care of the baby, and she thinks they look alike. You hear this all the time as a parent, even if your kid looks NOTHING like you — but Matt’s curious, so he does a mail-away DNA test and it comes back unquestionably that he’s actually the father. So now he knows he can’t just bail on the kid like he was planning, but he needs money to raise him. So he sets up an intricate ransom for his ex and her husband, who has money (of course he has money; why do you think she married him?). Matt makes the dude put $3 million in cash and jewels into a bag, then chase all over metro LA until he finally ends up taking a boat out to Catalina Island. But halfway there, he instructs the husband to load the dough into a weighted box and throw it overboard. Because of course Matt is a scuba diver — this is a Pike book, after all. He retrieves the money and then uses a personal propeller to zip off underwater. And the FBI, which was so prepared for an island drop or a boat handoff, is caught with their pants all the way down.

Of course Kelly is furious, but also curious. She remembers seeing a picture of Matt in the woman’s desk, and asks about the circumstances of his death. It seems that the day Matt’s plane crashed, he had been on Catalina — finishing up his scuba certification. So now Kelly has connected the dots, in a way only a Pike heroine can, but she can’t imagine where to find the dude. But she knows someone who can: a certain Sex Murderin’ English Teacher, who is still alive but paralyzed from the neck down, who knows better than anyone Kelly knows how a twisted male mind works. He grasps the intricacies of the situation immediately and advises Kelly to follow the woman, because there’s no way she’s unaware.

Kelly doesn’t believe it, but sure enough the chick leads her directly to Matt and the baby, set up in a fancy apartment not even that far from the rich husband’s house. It seems that Matt felt like he had all the leverage he needed to get the girl back, now that he had the baby and some money. But it’s not enough — she knows that the dude isn’t ever going to let her just go, and that the only way to be totally free to be back with Matt is if they kill her husband. So Matt, against his better judgment, starts coming up with a plan to murder a dude: drive his boat to Catalina, get him super drunk, and then push him overboard on the way back. The girl, weirdly, insists that Matt has to be on board and actually do the pushing. Which makes Kelly, listening in on her bugs planted in the apartment, start to think that maybe she’s the actual monster, even though Matt has faked his own death and then kidnapped her son. So she affects her own secret identity and moves into the complex to get closer to the situation but also to try to keep Matt from doing something he’ll regret.

Matt actually has no intention of killing the husband. His plan was pretty much always to tag along on the boat and then get the girl to fake her OWN death, and then they can be free and alone and untraceable. But but but, the girl objects, if she is dead and not the husband, then she won’t be heir to all his money! But Matt flatly refuses to push the dude. So she goes ahead and does it. Unlucky for her, they’re being tailed by — who else? — Kelly the Hero, who now has enough circumstantial evidence to arrest the woman for murder. Her father-in-law bails her out of jail, raising more weird questions, and then she manages to convince Matt to help her jump bail and escape with all her worldly possessions. They make it to Utah the first night, but the ten minutes Matt runs out to buy diapers and formula is long enough for a dude to bust in and tie his girl to the bed and be looming over her with a beaker full of acid when he gets back.

Holy shit, right? By now Matt knows who Kelly is and has gotten her backstory, and he knows that she’s willing to let him slide on the whole kidnap kerfuffle, so he calls her with this weird coincidence. But there’s no way it could be SMET, who is totally paralyzed! But Kelly now fears for HIS ex-wife’s life, and flies back to Ohio to do another check on this whole twisted clan. The best thing she can think of is to do a home stakeout with the lady and her new man, the grad student she was cheating with. Only — uh-oh — turns out the dude is in cahoots with SMET the whole time! His whole life, in fact: Cheatin’ Grad Student is SMET’s little brother! Their mother was also a cheater, and died of complications from their dad pushing her down the stairs after he found out. But wait! It seems that SMET actually did the killing, replacing her cardiac epinephrine shot with vinegar, so when she seized in her hospital bed it was the attempt to save her that killed her. Please note: SMET did this as a motherfucking TEN YEAR OLD. From there, he realized the thrill of destroying loose women and employed his little brother in helping to deface and dispose of the bodies.

So it only follows that he’d employ the dude to lure his wife, and was devastated when she bit, and that has turned into more killin’. In fact, it was CGS who was in Utah the night before, on his brother’s orders, ready to take down another terrible, cheating, murdering, bail-jumping lady. But this kid is even more debased than his brother, and is just going to rape and dismember Kelly while his new bae is knocked out from drugs in her dinner. Luckily she has her own syringe of cardiac vinegar, uncovered in her prior search of the dad’s house, and she manages to stab it into CGS’s heart just in the nick of time.

What’s up with Matt and the On-the-Lam Family? No big, they’re just doing some leisurely rock climbing now that they’re free from dead rich husbands or acid murderers. This, it turns out, is Matt’s one final big test to his girl’s fidelity — and she fails big time, cutting his rope and leaving him stranded on the edge of a cliff while he’s rappelling. But Matt’s been here before, because he’s an experienced and expert rock climber (because what the FUCK ELSE can this asshole be good at), and he manages to free-climb up the side of the cliff and catch his girl as she’s packing up the car. So now it’s her turn to be stuck on a cliff ledge, until he can get to a pay phone and call the cops on her for jumping bail. And we’re all like, good god, dude, it took you fuckin’ well long enough.

Of course we can’t just be done, right? Kelly has a sex murderin’ English teacher to revenge. She makes it look like a suicide, unscrewing part of his wheelchair and scraping his wrist veins against it so he bleeds out. But before he goes, he wants to talk to Matt, because they’re not so different, and he’d like to congratulate a fellow charismatic criminal for getting away with his misdeeds. And then he dies, and Kelly swears off FBI work so that maybe she can go back to her family and actually appreciate it and be appreciated by them.

Um ... what? But yeah, that’s the end of Falling. Either one of these stories would have been better served by itself, unless he could have given us Kelly’s necessary backstory in the beginning rather than trying to make everything happen at the same time. It comes across as excessive and unnecessary, and makes the ending fall flat. And when you have a blah ending, it doesn’t matter how vibrant the characters have been, or how real and horrific their struggles, or how much you sympathized with them throughout the narrative. All you remember is the “um ... what?”

[imgilmoregirl]

Wedding Bells

AO3 Link

Summary: After Rogers was involved in an unfortunate accident, Alice thought she wouldn't have anyone to walk her down the aisle, until something unexpected happened.

Notes: Disclaimer: I don’t own Once Upon A Time or any of the characters and storylines in the show. This is just a fanwork made for fun.

@panchibust prompted:  Zeus brings rumple and belle back to life for alice's wedding so rumple can give her away(rogers can't bc he broke a leg ) alice can't stand og. Hook so , she wants her second dad to do it...

I know somebody else came with this idea here in tumblr so I tried to find the post and link it here, but I couldn’t find it for some reason. If you know who did it, please tell me so I can give the person the credits.

The backroom of the United Realms’ castle was filled of stuff that hadn’t being used for decorating the great hall for the wedding. Regina had been really kind in offering the place to host their ceremony, but she was really found of her niece, Robin and was willing to do anything to see her happy, so Alice just went with the flow and started planning tings more excitedly than ever.

They had gone to a place called New York for their gowns, because Robin insisted in wearing something modern and that showed everyone that they lived two different realities at the same time, some days running through wild woods with a bow, an arrow and some magical powers and other days just chilling in their comfortable Hyperion Heights’ apartment, watching some movies or TV shows. The wedding couldn’t be any less unique.

Everything was turning out to be perfect until three days ago. Rogers had gone on a little mission with Henry – something about Aladdin getting kidnapped – and broke his leg. Now he was stuck in a wheelchair, taking a few painful steps with the help of a pair of crutches from time to time, but not really being able to use them for long.

So, there in the backroom he was, hearing a beautiful tailored suit and staring at his nervous daughter, who paced around unstoppably around, clearly nervous, straightening the skirts of her beautiful wedding gown repeatedly. She looked gorgeous, her blonde hair pulled up on an elegant loose bun, the off-the-shoulder fluff white sleeves of the dress, holding it perfectly in place and the tight corset accentuating the lines of her waist.

"I could push the chair," Alice suggested,

"What? No," Rogers shook his head. "I was supposed to lead you, not the other way around."

She sniffled, falling on the chair in from of him and pulling on a sad face that reminded Rogers of when she was just a little girl scared of nightmares. Her eyes were watery and her lower lip trembling. He hated to see her about to cry like this and he wished that he could magically heal his stupid leg to do his duty as a father and walk her down the damned aisle.

"But, papa, if you don't do this, then no one else will," she complained, blinking away her tears so she wouldn’t ruin her make-up.

“The other Hook offered, you know,” Rogers chuckle, trying to take a little smile from her, but failing miserably.

“He is not you! And he… Well, I’m not his biggest fan.”

Rogers reached for her hand, giving her a soft grin as he stroked her soft skin, a deep sigh leaving him at the realisation that after this day she would be a married woman and no longer his baby girl. And she in fact looked like a powerful woman dressed like that which made him incredibly proud.

“Come on, Starfish, one bad version of me is better than nothing.”

“I wanted you, or…”

“Or?”

Alice swallowed hard and looked away from his eyes. She didn’t like to talk about how much she missed another important man in her life when her papa was around, but truth be told, deep down, both of them felt a terrible lack of something in their lives now that he was gone.

“Weaver,” she confessed. “He is the only one I can think about doing this. You know, he took care of me for a long time, like another father.”

“Yeah, I know,” Rogers murmured.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

His lips tightened in a thin line. He didn’t want her to feel like that and he felt sad to know he wasn’t going to be able to make her feel safe all the way to the love of her life.

"You won't, there are a lot of people out there who love you," he remarked. "Robin is waiting for you."

"I know," she said with a tiny smile.

There was a sound coming from the hallway then, steps, he could say and he thought that maybe it was someone coming to check on them because of their delay, but when Rogers looked back, he had to blink twice because he couldn’t believe his own eyes. Coming from the open door, dressed in an equally elegant suit as his, with hair way shorter than the last time they saw each other, was Rumplestiltskin, with the woman of his pictures – his wife, Belle – arm by arm with him, stunning and young in a beautiful dark-blue dress.

Behind Rogers, his daughter gasped.

"Alice?"

"Mr. Weaver…. I mean, Rumplestiltskin?" She inquired in awe. "Am I dreaming?"

"No," he answered, with a smile, walking towards her and bringing his young wife along. "Zeus brought me and Belle back, because we still have a few unfinished businesses in this land and you, Alice, are one my biggest."

"Me? Why?"

Unhooking Belle’s arm from his, Rumple took one final step into Alice’s direction and picked both of her hands in his own, causing more tears to blurry her vision at the confirmation that he was really there and wasn’t just a ghost or a product of her mind.

"You need someone to walk you down the aisle, don't you?"

A sad, but hopeful smile crossed her lips as she nodded to him. In the past there were a lot of different moments like this one, in which he would know exactly what she needed and how to calm down her heart. And apart from her papa and Robin, no one else in the world had this power over Alice.

"Would you do this for me?"

"Of course," Rumple guaranteed, looking down at the pirate, who was watching them with a grin. "But only if that is alright for your father."

"Just fine, matte," Rogers agreed, tapping a hand to his arm. "I'm glad to see you back, I've been meaning to thank you."

A new giggle filled the room and all eyes turned to the blue-eyes beauty that stood behind her husband. Not Alice nor Rogers had the chance to meet her before, but with all the information Rumple gave them about her, they felt like somehow, she was already a dear member of the family.

"You must be Belle," Alice said, pulling away from Rumplestitskin to take a better look at her before throwing her arms around the brunette and hugging her tight with a happy sigh. "You are as beautiful as in the pictures."

"Thank you," she said, softly, holding the girl carefully to not ruin her hair. "You are as lovely as Rumplestiltskin said."

For a long moment, everybody was all watery smiles when somebody appeared by the door way and stole their attentions – and in Rumple and Belle’s case, their breath too.

"Alice, it's time to..."  Gideon Gold started but stopped when he set eyes on the two people that shouldn’t be there. "Papa? Mama?"

Their faces lighted up at the sight of him – their precious boy who they hadn’t seen for such a long time – and a sob erupted from Belle’s throat as she threw her arms around Gideon, just a second before Rumple did it himself holding both of them in his warm embrace.

"Oh, my boy," Alice heard him mutter to his son.

She exchanged a happy glare with her papa as they pulled away from the hug, both Rumple and Belle looking at their boy in utter adoration. As someone who had spent years apart from her father, Alice could say they missed each other enormously and had probably been hurting all the time they’ve spent apart.

"How - " Gideon tried to start, but Rumplestiltskin shook his head at him.

"We will have time to explain," he promised.

Gideon nodded, wiping the corners of his eyes with the pads of his thumbs. He too was ready for the ceremony – he was Alice’s best man, while Henry was Robin’s – and straightened his suit jacket before pulling on a smile.

"What if I push the chair so you can both give her away at the altar in somehow?" Belle asked Rogers with a wink, positioning her hands on the handles.

"I would be thankful."

"Come on then."

Leading him through the hallway with her son by her side, Belle slowly disappeared, leaving Alice and Rumplestiltskin – Weaver, to a great part of her mind, which still insisted in calling herself Tilly sometimes – alone in the backroom, just waiting for the bride’s song to start to play, announcing that it was their time to come in.

Alice picked up her bouquet of pink lilies and white roses and bit down her lip as she accepted the arm he was stretching out for her. Now she felt safe. Now she knew that even though her papa would have to be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, somebody would be there for her, to make sure she would make it and that she wouldn’t trip by accident in her brand-new high heels that made her look as tall as Robin.

"Thank you for doing this for me," she said, sincerely. "You've always been a special friend. More like a second father."

"And I care for you as a daughter," Rumplestiltskin answered, touching her cheek and catching one single tear she didn’t realised she had dropped. "Now let's get you married."

The great hall was full of people, some she had never seen in her life, but Robin swore, were old friends of hers; some she knew their faces by heart as knowing that they were there made an inexplicable happiness burst inside her chest. The music was slow and romantic, not of the kind she would enjoy most days, but that today, sounded perfect.

All of their guests were already jaw-dropped when they appeared, probably because none of them expected to see Belle who had been dead for years now, as a guest too, but Alice wasn’t paying attention to their faces now, because all she could see was Robin. She looked beautiful, no sleeves, a tight simple dress with thin skirts, hair tied on a braid, which was adorned with flowers.

She was wearing those silly glasses and, gods, she looked way too cute in them, so cute that Alice wanted to kiss her until she was breathless. Alice tightened her grip on Rumple’s arm and glanced up at him, receiving the gentlest of the smiles back, an encouragement to keep walking towards the woman she loved.

"What the hell is happening in here?" Zelena Mills inquired from her place beside Regina, both of them clearly confused.

Robin, however didn’t waste time with questions, she immediately reached for Alice, taking her hand – the one Rumple offered her – and smiling as widely as she could, her greenish eyes fixed on her blue ones.

"Alice," Robin breathed. "You look amazing."

"Take care of her," Rogers said, winking at her from his wheelchair.

"You've heard the Captain, Miss,” Rumple added. “You better treat this girl well."

“Count on me, I plan on making her the happiest woman in this world, or any other,” Robin said, leading Alice to their places as Rumplestiltskin joined his wife and son to watch the ceremony.

It was impossible for Alice to stop smiling, because she was facing Robin, hearing their ceremonialist, Archie Hopper, say a few lovely words about love and knowing that all people she most loved were gathered there to celebrate their happiness. So, when she was asked to pronounce the final two words, they got out of her in a happy sigh.

“I do,” she said a second before being interrupted by the loveliest kiss she had ever shared in her life.

They were wife and… Wife.

#curiousarcher #curiousarcher fic #rumbelle #alice jones #robin mills #rumplestiltskin #belle french #detective rogers #ao3 #fanfiction #prompt fic

[bae-b-8-imagines]

Subway Rider - Poe Dameron x Reader (Modern AU)

Author’s Note: Hello everybody! This is my first fanfic. It’s based off of the song Subway Rider by Matt Gumley, all credit for the song and lyrics go to him. I hope you like it. Please send in any requests, comments, or feedback you have! And Stay Gold! 

Warnings: None I think.

Word Count: 2,000+

---

The brisk wind of the bustling city made you shiver. You weren’t cold, you were completely prepared for the weather today, but your fingers were itching to play. Ever since you had written that new song you wanted to show it off to whoever would listen. You gripped tighter to the handle of your guitar case as you walked down the stairs to the platform. The train was supposed to be arriving in three or four minutes, just enough time for you to set up.

You gently opened your guitar case, leaving it opened for any generous people who wanted to contribute to your dream. You quickly strummed all six strings making sure each of them were in tune, plugged into the small portable amp, and began to sing. You started of with a cover so it would catch people’s ears as soon as the stepped off the train, hopefully causing a few of them to stay. The train quickly arrived and as usual a few people watched, mostly tourists, but the majority of the people were quick to be on their way.

After you finished your first song, a little girl who seemed to be about the age of seven came up to you and put a five dollar bill in your case. She gave a big toothless smile and then ran back to her mother and baby brother. They made their way up the stairs which left only two other people waiting for your next song. You wished there could’ve been more, but it was rush hour, and two people are better than no people. One was an older man who wore a thick white beard, with a button down shirt tucked into his pants. The other was a handsome man with curly brown hair, dark eyes, and a small smirk hinting at his lips. You looked down and blushed a little bit before beginning the original song you had written.

When you finished you looked up and smiled at him. He dropped a few dollars in, winked, and left. If you weren’t blushing before you were now. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest and you couldn’t stop a smile from dancing along your cheeks. The old man stayed to listen to a few more songs, other passerbyers dropped some coins in, and about two hours after you began you packed up your things and made your way back to your small apartment on the edge of town.

The rest of your week your mind kept dreaming about the handsome stranger who winked at you on the subway tracks. It felt a little stupid to have your thoughts so consumed by a man you had never met, but something felt different about him. You went to bed, and prayed that you would be able to see him again next time you played.

---

Three weeks later you saw your mystery man once again. He did the same thing as last time. Listened for a few songs, left some money, winked, and left. The only thing different about this time you played was that you had planned on talking to him after the song you had written, but he was taken away by a phone call. Probably one from his workplace. While you were so happy to see him again, you were a bit disappointed that you didn’t get to talk to him...yet again. At least now you knew that he wasn’t just another tourist and an actual resident of the city.

Like usual people came and went. The flow of the stream through the doors of the station calming you. Many people you knew felt uncomfortable or grossed out by the public transportation system, but you found yourself there. The reason you wanted to learn guitar in the first place was from a talented person playing in the subways. This was where it all began.

---

Right above the platform stood Poe Dameron, a music Producer at Resistance Labels. His boss, Leia Organa, had called him asking if he had new information on any new artists. He smirked into the phone.

“Actually, if you’d really like to know I’ve found a girl-” He began

“Oh no... Dameron, we’ve talked about this, you can’t just flirt around with girls and make them believe they have a chance when they don’t. Our company isn’t doing well right now against First Order Music. We need someone new and spunky. We can’t have girls who just sing covers, go find me someone who actually can write their own music.” She stated before he could finish.

“That’s the thing! This girl is in the subway singing her own material! And when she’s not singing that her taste in music is very good...she even has sung some artists we have contracts with…” He stated making his way to his favorite cafe on the corner of the street, “I will call you back with more information on her next week. I think I saw some business cards in her guitar case.”

“Ok Dameron...don’t go into this one without thinking like you did last time. I trust you.” Leia stated.

“Of course. I’ll email you the details as soon as I get them. Bye!” He hung up the phone just as he walked through the door.

The small bell rung and the young woman working behind the counter gave a shy smile. Poe was used to the light blush that crossed women's faces when he looked at them. Even he couldn’t deny the fact that he had a flirtatious personality. When he arrived at the counter he ordered his usual drink. While he was paying he noticed a picture frame containing a notice that stated:

“Cornerstone Cafe To Be Closed For Three Weeks Starting December 9th. Owner’s Wife in Care of Hospice.”

The young woman took the money and then commented, “It’s really a shame, this place makes bank during the holidays, and now poor Mr.Harrison’s wife in Hospice. I just hope that he will be able to keep it running after she passes away.”

“Yeah.” Poe commented distracted, “Me too.”

Every Friday night Mr.Harrison would put on an Open Mic night in which Poe would come, look for talented artists and drink the best coffee in a ten mile radius. Now his plans for the company vacation were gone. He didn’t have family to go to, and all of his friends from Resistance were heading back to their hometowns. He supposed he could ask Organa if he could stay with her for the break, or just spend time at home working. But he still needed to find more out about that girl.

---

You and the stranger saw each other everyday after your second time seeing him. Some days he would stop and listen, others he walked right by without even glancing your way. One day he stopped longer than normal. After your set he was still there, and you figured this was your chance to finally talk to him.

You were about to open your mouth and say hello, but he spoke first.

“Your music is really good.” He stated with a small smile.

“Thanks. I’ve seen you stop by a lot, but we’ve never spoken. What made you stay today?” You replied.

“Have you thought about going anywhere with your songs? I think they could be a hit.” He asked.

That goddamned curly hair was driving you crazy. You didn’t even realise you were staring at his hair until he cleared his throat and tilted his head expecting an answer to his previously stated question.

“Oh, um, yeah actually. That’s kinda the dream.” you rubbed your hand behind your neck and looked at your boots.

“Do you have a name?” He took a step closer to you.

You looked into his eyes brown eyes which were looking into your E/C ones, “Y/N...Y/N L/N.”

He stepped back, and suddenly you were aware of how cold this windy city was. A shiver ran up your spine, and your chest was aching because, my god, he took your breath away.

“Thanks.” He said, turned around, and left.

As he was running up the stairs you realised that you had never gotten his name, “WAIT!” But he was already gone, “I didn’t even get your name.” You muttered to yourself.

---

Since that day at the subway you had been writing. You had been working and working on this song about the handsome stranger. You wanted to sing it for him. You wanted him to know that you noticed him, that you wanted him. You wanted to know where he laid his head at night, you wanted to be the one to cause the overwhelming smile that graced his face, you wanted to dance with him in your kitchen at one in the morning, wearing one of his button downs.

There was only one thing holding you back from singing your song for him: he wasn’t there anymore. After the first week you had assumed maybe he was sick, or busy, but after the third week of him not showing up you felt defeated. Here you were thinking that maybe, just maybe, you meant something to him like he meant to you. But obviously you were mistaken.

That was the last time you had sung your own material at the station. Since then you would sing the material from better known artists. And honestly? You made more money doing that than singing your own songs. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be a musician. People like sameness, they don’t want change or something different. They want something they’re comfortable with, and your material just wasn’t that.

One day as you were packing up you felt a tap on your shoulder. You gripped your keys in your pocket ready to protect yourself if it was some creep trying to hit on you. It was late and you didn’t know who would be out at this hour. When you turned around you were shocked to see that it was the man. The one who had caused so much excitement and sorrow in your life, and you still didn’t know his goddamned name.

“Why haven’t you been singing your own songs lately?” He asked.

You looked at your sneakers, slightly dejected, “Just figured nobody wants to hear it. I make more when I am singing stuff they already know.”

“I want to hear it.” He said firmly, “Your music is special.”

You looked into his eyes. Inside them there was a passion and familiarity that made an ember of hope burn in your chest. If this man, who you had dreamed about talking to for months wanted to hear your music then maybe others would as well.

“I have a new song...if you wanted to hear it.” You whispered.

Somehow during the exchange between the two of you his hands had intertwined with you and you were only inches apart.

“I’d love to.” He breathed.

You unpacked your guitar. This time you didn’t plug it in, you wanted to play this just for him.

What I’d pay to know your name,

Money can buy just about everything

A yacht, a car, a plane.

What I’d do to see your face,

Money can get a man his dreams,

But it can’t get him a queen.

I let you slip through the cracks,

That day on the subway tracks,

We didn’t have to say a thing,

Your smile overwhelming,

He looked at you with an amused expression on his face, as if this entire time he knew the song was about him. You both were sitting on a bench facing each other. His hand rested on his knee and while you could tell there was a smirk creeping onto his face, there was also an admiration that burned in his eyes, yearning you to continue.

I don’t need to know you,

To know that I truly love you,

There’s no one else like you,

Who makes me feel the way I do.

Wonder where you lay your head,

When you could be here instead,

Dancing to my melody,

Playing through the radio.

You strummed the last chord of the song. Clapping filled your ears, but it wasn’t him clapping, it was a group of travellers who had surrounded the two of you. When you turned your face back to look at him, he pressed his lips softly against yours.

“I can be here.” He whispered, referring to the lyric of the song.

You could feel your heart rate speed up at his words. A heat dusting your cheeks as you nodded in agreement.

“And if you really want I can help you get that song on the radio.” He stated as if it were completely normal.

You leaned away from him to get a better look, to try and find something to tell you he was lying. He obviously noticed your doubt and explained himself.

“I work for Resistance Labels. We have been looking for new artists, with their own original music, and I personally think you would be a great candidate, and so does my boss.”

You gasped, and stood up, “Are you serious?”

He smiled and nodded, “Yes, I am serious. I kept coming back every time to hear you sing...get a good feel before I presented the situation to Organa. She approves.”

You were so happy, and so broken in that one moment. He had only come back to listen to your music. Which was great, you could make a name for yourself now, but everything you had felt for him, even if you had only had a few short conversations, wasn’t returned. He didn’t feel the same way.

“So you just came back to hear my music?” You asked, your voice faltered a little bit, you were trying not to be weak in front of him.

“I also came back for you. If that song you sung was about me, then I feel the same exact way Y/N. From the moment I first heard you singing here I knew there was something different about you. Raw talent, yes. Also? I just felt connected to you? It may sound crazy, and normally this is not how it goes with me and girls, but I think there’s something special between us.”

It was you this time who kissed him. Your hand tugged gently at his curly locks, and you felt his hands snake around your waist. Everyone on the platform was clapping again. You didn’t care though. All the waiting, all the writing, all the singing had paid off.

“Shouldn’t you ask me out on a date or something?” You smirked as you pulled away.

He was a little disheveled, and rolled his eyes, “Y/N L/N, could I please have the honors of taking you out to dinner this Friday night?”

You proudly smiled, “Sure thing Mister….”

“Poe.” He said, “Poe Dameron.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron x you #poe x you #star wars #fanfiction

[abgailgibbs]

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[damnhotmsimmons]

Easing the Pain

@derekmorgansoffice, @dontshootmespence, @marvelfanlife, @butsomeofusarelookingatthestars, @criminal-navy-writings

Warning:Smut

It’s my fist attempt at writing smut, so please bear with me.

It was just a matter of time till Matt got home. He had just got back after he and the team just completed a case that left him all worn out. Who knew that tackling the unsub left him some excruciating pain. As he enters his place, he noticed that nobody was home. He knew that the kids were still at their grandmother's place and wouldn't come home till tomorrow, but he was somehow surprised to notice that his wife, Kristy wasn't home. In recent times, it was rare for him to arrive home before her. Though earlier, he got a call from her, where she tells him that she had she might come home late due to traffic. Hoping to kill some time before she returns, Matt decides to take a shower, knowing that it'll help him cool off.  He still felt the soreness from his back as he gently rubs it. He may have had some military experience, but the unsub was far physically imposing than him. Had Luke and JJ not arrived in time to help him, he would have come home badly injured. After removing his shoes, he grabs a towel before heading to the bathroom.

    Matt heads to the bathroom as he undressed before getting inside. He then turns on the shower and a wave of water touches his toned body.  

"Ah." He moans as the warm water hits his body. He lifts his head towards the shower head allowing the water to trickle down around the shape of his toned body as he runs his fingers through his hair. He then grabs the soap, wetting it before dragging it across his body. The feeling of it soothe his tough skin, though it wasn't enough as he felt a large bruise on his lower back because of the fight between him and the unsub. Nevertheless, he continues. It's been a long day as he was relieved that the shower helped soothe the pain he endured after a stressful case. Even if it didn't completely remove the pain, it at least helped him relax.

   At the same time, Kristy had just arrived in the living room. It seems that the traffic wasn't as severe as she thought it was, so she was able to arrive early than expected. As she closes the door, she heard the shower was running. Realizing that Matt was home, she walks to the bedroom bathroom to check on him, though as she peeks at the door, her eyes start to change as she sets her eyes on him. She and Matt had their fair share of special, private moments together, so it shouldn't be a surprised to see him naked. But there was something about the sight of him than made Kristy flustered. She bit her lower lip as the sight of him all drenched and wet made her feel all warm inside. There was lust in her eyes as the blurred image of him behind the shower door was tempting to resist. After all, the kids were at her parents' place and won't be home till tomorrow morning. Not wanting to pass up this opportunity, she opens the door as she carefully enters the bathroom. Matt was too focused to even notice that Kristy was there, though he felt a slight breeze as he showers. Once inside, Kristy closes the door and undressed, unbuttoning her blouse, unzipping her skirt and removing her bra and panties. Once she was completely nude, she approaches the shower door. Matt didn't pay much attention to the sound of her footsteps as he was too relaxed to be even thinking of what's going on. Suddenly, he hears the door open. Panicked, he covers his crotch with one hand as he sees who was out there. Once the door opens, his eyes widen as he sees who it was.

  To his surprise, he sees Kristy standing outside, also nude. He was at a loss for words, though she didn't seem fazed as he stares at her. In fact, the sight of him still dripping wet made her want him more. Not wanting to make things awkward, Matt breaks the silence.

"I-I uh thought you said you were coming home late."

"I did, but on the way there, things seem to be pretty calm on the highway, so I came here right on time." She leans her head to his. "I hope I wasn't interrupting."  

"N-No, you weren't."

She smiles as she briefly glanced at Matt's soaked body before biting her lip. She then looks at him. "Mind if I come in?" She asked in a sultry voice.

"Sure." Matt nods and she slowly enters the shower before closing the door behind her. She starts to lean close to him as she placed her hands on his tense shoulders. "So my mom has the kids and won't drop them off till tomorrow and since you're here.." She placed a finger on his chest and strokes it as she continues. "I figured that this was the perfect time to spend some alone time together. Although, if you're not in the mood, I could get out and we could just watch a movie instead." She teases him as she could tell that he had a long day after working on a rough case.  But behind his tired, dark eyes lies a sense of desire he desperately wants. Matt knew something was up, but at the same time didn't want to pass this opportunity up. Between working on cases and taking care of four kids, it was hard for him to be spending this kind of time with his wife. Complying with her, he slowly relaxed his shoulders and lifts his hand away from his groin as he placed his hands on her waist before pulling her body onto his.

"I guess a few more minutes won't hurt." He whispered.  

 Kristy smiles with delight as Matt carefully moves her to the shower head, allowing the water to stream down around the shape of her naked body. Without any hesitation, they both lean to a kiss as the touch of their lips felt like sparks in the air. They felt the water trickling down around their lips as they kiss beneath the shower head. The kissing starts to grew even more passionate as Matt then brings his lips along her neck, placing small yet fervent kisses on her. Kristy smiles with delight as he trails along her neck and collarbone, though as he reached the soft spot behind her ear, she melts into him. She knew that within each kiss lies his hunger for her. He's had a pretty rough day and being with her was something he desperately needs to ease his pain. He then cups her breasts, placing soft kisses on them as she runs her fingers through his hair.

"M-Matt." She murmured. The touch of his lips made her want even more.  She placed her hands on his back as she trails to the bottom.

"Ah!" Matt cries. He the pulls away from her.

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

"No."  

Kristy bends down while Matt turns to show her a large, purple area on the side of his back. She stared at it intensely. "Tough case?"

"Yeah. You should've seen the guy, he was pretty big." He hesitated before he continues "If it wasn't for Luke, I would've came home with more than a bruise."

Despite the large gash, it didn't stop Kristy. She gently strokes the purple skin, caressing it, even placing a small kiss on it. Surprisingly, Matt did not react but was rather pleased by the touch of her fingers and lips caressing his bruise. He no longer felt any pain but rather pleasure. He watched as she lift herself back up.  

"Well, I like it. It makes you seem...tough." She purrs as her hands slither up to his neck. "Besides, a little pain not's gonna stop you." Her words gave Matt goosebumps as he felt his heart pounding.  

"No, it won't." He mumbled on her neck.  

She smirked and pulls him close to her. "Then take me." She breathed.

"Take you?"

"Yes." She purred. "I need you."

 Matt then wrapped his arms around her as he kisses her slowly on the lips, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth. He gently grabs her bum as he slowly brings her against the wall.  

"Matt." She whispered as his body pushed hers against the wall. Each kiss drew a heavy breath from her frame. It seems that for the past ten years, Matt knew exactly what to do in order to elicit the noises he wants to hear. He starts to kiss every soft spot throughout her body but pulls away as he felt her hand firmly gripping the back of his head.

"I'm sorry." He responds as his breathing grew heavy. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." She pulled his face towards her. "More." She murmured "I want more."  

  The vibrations of her voice sent shivers down his spine as he lean besides her hear. "I thought you'd never asked." He whispered and he placed himself in her entrance as he thrusts her. The sensations start to build up between them within each thrust.  She lifts a leg up and wraps it around his waist while she tightly grips on to the back of his head.

"Oh fuck."

Her moans starts to get louder much to his satisfaction. "Come for me." He breathed and within on last thrust, he buries himself deep within her before he cries out. As he pulls away, within moments later, she yells out some soft moans as she climaxed. The two were breathing heavily as they felt their chests rising. The water squelched between their bodies, the aura around them fills the atmosphere around them along with the steam from the hot water.  The two gaze into each other's eyes after a short period of silence.

"Not bad for someone who got hurt." Kristy teased.

"Please, no unsub, no matter how big they are, can stop me from doing what I love." He replies.

She smiles and the two kiss one last time with a small yet passionate kiss.  

"I knew you still have it in you."

"Oh, I always have it in me."

Here it is, sorry if it’s too long. I know it’s not that good though I tried, considering that it’s my first smut fic. Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed it.

#matt simmons #kristy simmons #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic