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cult-of-husbandos · 8 months

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yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

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street-smarts00 · 2 months

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Complimentary Colors

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 7.3K

Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?

tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)

A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.

You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them.

All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work.

His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.

It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job.

But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long.

And at some point you both reached your boiling point.

Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats.

“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family.

“I was working off of the profile . . .”

“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected.

“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.

“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.

“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts . . .”

“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.

“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward.

“I didn’t say that!”

“It sure sounded like it.”

“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights.

“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room.

You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up.

“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured.

You both replied with a monotone “yes.”

“Good”

Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it.

The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases.

As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life.

But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them.

The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door.

“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in.

He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down.

Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood.

The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.

They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair.

After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair.

While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable.

“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer.

“I’m fine.”

He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that.

“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked.

You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves.

“Maybe for a bit.”

You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him.

Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”

“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort.

“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.”

“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.

“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in.

“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.”

“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.

“A bit what?”

“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.

He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that.

“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.”

Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?

“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.”

“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth.

“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand.

You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer.

“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand.

"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood.

"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."

“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up.

“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.”

He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.

"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition."

Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it.

“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.”

“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.

“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted.

A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?”

You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.”

Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.”

You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it.

“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response.

"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.”

“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”

"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”

“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.”

You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.

"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you."

You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended.

He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.

Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”

"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.”

Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils.

“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.”

You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful.

“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke.

“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.”

“What would you like to know?” You asked.

He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate.

“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked.

“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing.

“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?”

“Purple.” He replied.

You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus.

“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious.

“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew.

He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”

“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.”

His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out.

“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?”

“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say.

“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.”

He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.”

There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him.

“Can I ask you a question this time?”

“Of course.”

“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various building blocks that made him the way he was.

Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.”

“Is he one of your favorite authors?”

“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer.

“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.

You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.”

Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.

”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.

“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”

You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed.

“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.

“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.

“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember.

“Which one did you like the most?”

“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.”

Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open.

“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”

“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly.

“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.”

“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.

“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.”

He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist.

“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”

He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture.

“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to.

“I will.”

“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.”

“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention.

“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?”

He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.”

“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for.

“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable.

You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.

He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?”

“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.”

He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?”

“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.

"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him.

“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.”

Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.

“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.

“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.

“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.

"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash."

When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself.

“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.

“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.

“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked.

"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you.

"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.

You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms.

"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.

“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back.

He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.

“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.

"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.

“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.

“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed.

“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.

“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.

“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.”

“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.

"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”

You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.”

Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on.

"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him.

"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.

You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.

“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.”

He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough.

“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked.

“Oh shut up,” you retorted.

“Make me.”

Your lips pursed, holding back a smile.

Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him.

“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased.

He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you.

"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry.

“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.

"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”

Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.

“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.

"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.

Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.

"You are.”

You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.”

"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."

You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?”

"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior."

Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”

"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively.

He couldn’t respond, he froze up.

“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused.

He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."

“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”

If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips.

It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”

"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed.

“Make me.”

Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.

”Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled.

The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do.

You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.

"No. Don’t,” he begged.

"Really?" You whispered softly.

He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."

You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder.

"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me?

He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read.

He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"

You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”

"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.”

Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?”

You glanced between his eyes and his lips.

“Yes..”

It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.

When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed.

“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately.

You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.

Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever.

The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other.

”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk.

You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react.

His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.

“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.” Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door.

You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”

“Yup”

He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked.

“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered.

“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels.

“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”

The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.

JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?”

Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds headcanons #enemies to lovers

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veltana · 6 months

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No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.

Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.

The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."

Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.

When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.

Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.

"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.

Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.

"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.

"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.

You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.

"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.

"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.

"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.

"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.

"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.

"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.

When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.

For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.

The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.

The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.

The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.

In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.

Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.

After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."

Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.

When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.

"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"

"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.

"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.

When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.

But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.

After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.

It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.

Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.

You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.

The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.

"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.

"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.

"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.

"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.

Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.

You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.

With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.

Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."

You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.

"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"

An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."

It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.

"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.

"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.

"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"

Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.

"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.

Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.

The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.

"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.

"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.

"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."

"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.

"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."

There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.

"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."

Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.

Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."

"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.

Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.

It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.

"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."

"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.

They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."

Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.

"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."

You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.

Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”

The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.

“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.

Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.

You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."

"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.

Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."

Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.

“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.

“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”

When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.

What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.

You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.

If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.

After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”

Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.

"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.

The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.

"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."

His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.

"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.

Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."

Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”

Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.

The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."

Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.

"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.

"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.

He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.

"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.

It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.

Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?

"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."

It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”

Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.

You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.

It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.

"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.

Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.

When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.

The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.

Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.

Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.

Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.

Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."

Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.

You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.

You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.

You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"

"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."

To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.

All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.

"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.

Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.

The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.

"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”

"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."

You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."

Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.

You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.

"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.

"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.

"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.

"You sound so fucking pretty."

"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."

"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."

You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.

"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.

Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.

For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.

Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.

John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.

When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.

Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.

"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."

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lucky-bucky-boy · 1 year

Text

Restless Night

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: An impulsive phone call leads to a happy ending

Word Count: 1307

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, pet names, little to no (y/n), mentions of missions, lemme know if i missed anything

A/N: MCU!Peter - I do plan to write something for TASM!Peter in the future but this was just easier for my brain to set up the scene. I wanted to do something different and challenged myself to write something that was more dialogue-heavy than I’ve written in a while. Not my best work, but a little smutty smut bc why not

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

The soft sound of the television playing a forgotten movie almost drowned out the sound of the phone ringing, tucked under a pillow and muffled. The sweet cusp of sleep was only moments away, being dragged out by the vibrating as the first call ended and a second came through.

The near unconsciousness caused forethought to be left behind, grabbing the phone, answering the call, and putting it to your ear. A soft "hello?" was all you could muster.

"Hey, baby."

A tsunami of emotions flooded through your body, suddenly wide awake and hyper aware of everything that was going on; The television was nearing the end of the movie you had put on, your clock reading 1:32, the lights from the cars passing by casting various dancing shadows around your room.

"I've missed you, baby."

His voice was sweet, almost addictive and something you hadn't realized was a need buried deep inside you. You shuffled, forcing yourself up and sitting against the squishmallow he'd won for you on your first time, something you hadn't been able to get rid of.

"Hi, Peter," you voice was quiet, sleep still etched between the syllables. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, "Peter, why'd you call? It's been 10 months."

Peter let out a soft sigh, you could hear him shuffling around. "Missing you really bad tonight, love. M' on a mission," there was another sigh, "I almost got hurt, like really hurt. Thankfully Bucky was there. All I could think about was you."

"Peter!" You voice was now much louder, instantly filled with worry, "Don't go and get yourself ki-"

He cut you off, "I wasn't tryna get hurt, baby. We got ambushed. We had just went in there for me to copy some information onto a drive. Ended up being some rogue Hydra agents, a leg of them we didn't even know existed." Peter was rambling and he knew it, he was starting to think the reason he called was a bad one.

You sighed, body riddled with a million different emotions, "Pete, why'd you call me?"

"I miss you," his words had a slight whine to them, "I wanna touch you so badly, wanna hold you and kiss you."

If he was there you would have undoubtedly melted into him. The breakup was mutual, but difficult nonetheless. Between trying to focus on your career and all of the responsibilities Peter had, it was near impossible to maintain a relationship - there was no time for date nights or dinner, no time to sit and reminisce and talk about the future. For months, the only time spent together was sleeping in the same bed, which was almost always disrupted by some responsibility.

You two loved each other, loved each other more than yourselves most days. But it had become too taxing and tiring, the constant worrying, near lack of support because attention was needed elsewhere. So, after a long, tearful date night gone wrong, the two of you agreed to break up, maybe try again when there were less things counting on you both.

Peter regretted it immediately, but he had wanted to give you space, give you time to flourish and not worry about him. He'd asked M.J. and Ned all the time what you had been up to, he would check your Instagram and Snapchat to see the things you were posting and proud of. He did whatever he could to support you from afar.

But tonight, tonight he dared to be selfish, he needed to be selfish. Deep down he knew it was wrong, calling you up in the middle of the night because the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and all he wanted was to be with you.

"I miss you too, Pete." Your voice was soft again, it always was in moments like this. Where the intimacy lay just behind every fiber in your body.

He hummed, starting to get antsy as he continued to try to figure out how to say what he wanted. "Baby, can you do me a favor?"

"What is it, Pete?" You almost hated how quickly you answered, how eager you were.

"Touch yourself, sweetheart. I wanna hear you touch yourself."

The gasp that left you was audible. Peter was never incredibly bold, never the type to initiate unless you two were definitely alone. Even in those moments, it was always sweet and loving. But this, Peter calling in the middle of the night, a desperate whine to his words and an insane neediness that make his tone demanding.

“Baby, if you don’t want to, you can just hang up. I won’t be upset with you.” You could hear some ruffling and the sound of metal hitting the floor. “I just miss the pretty sounds you make, miss the way your face scrunches up, miss the feeling of your skin against mine.”

This wasn’t a command you were going to disobey. He was still rambling, your mind only half paying attention to the honey-like words he was saying. “Do you want me to use my hand or one of my toys?”

He paused for a moment and you could practically hear the smile spread across his lips. “Use your hand, sweetheart. Run you hands across your body like I would.”

You could hear the moment Peter wrapped his hand around himself, a small groan leaving his lips. You listened to him, it being nearly impossible not to. "Wish you were here, Petey," the words slipped out of you as your fingers danced across your skin, sending goosebumps in their wake.

Your eyes were pinched shut, listening to every whimper and sigh the came through your phone, doing your best to pretend your own touch was his. "Me too, God, me too. Miss kissing your skin, hearing your little gasps when I nip."

"Peter," you couldn't help but whimper, forgoing anymore teasing and quickly giving your clit the much needed attention. It never took long with Peter for you to become needy and impatient, let alone when it had been almost a year since you heard the noises he was making, "I'm not gonna last long, want you so badly," your words were gasped out between soft moans, instant pleasure radiating from your core already making your body warm.

"Me neither, baby," there was a low groan that slipped from him, strangled as he attempted to hold himself together. With every sound you made, he nearly felt like he was in a dream. But he knew this was real, his subconscious hyper aware of the thin walls in the shitty hotel he was holed up in for the night and the super soldier who undoubtedly could hear him.

A endless stream of "fuck"s, gasps, moans, and whimpers flooded through each phone. It only took a few more minutes before the coil burst and the warmth of your high shook through your body, thighs quaking and chest heaving. Peter followed suit, a breathy moan of your name as he spilled into his hand and all over his abdomen.

There was a lingering silence as the other of you recovered, both taking in what has just happened while relishing in the aftermath. Peter broke the silence first, "Need to get m'self cleaned up," he mumbled. There was another beat of silence from him, "I do really miss you."

You hummed your agreement, shifting yourself into a more comfortable position. "I do really wish you were here."

He huffed out a small laugh, a sound that was laced with relief and contentedness. "I'll be home tomorrow at 4. I still got my key, I'll bring dinner, and we can talk. How does that sound?"

Now it was your turn to laugh, excitement filling every nerve in your body. "It sounds like a date."

#smut #peter parker #peter parker smut #mcu!peter parker #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter smut #mcu!peter smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut #peter parker one shot

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prefer-to-be-vilified · 8 months

Note

Hi! What are your favorite Wenclair fics?👀

I’m so glad you asked and I’m about to be so extra.

This fandom is beyond talented and I have many favourites. So I might as well make this an official Prefer-to-be-vilified Wenclair Fic Rec Masterlist… post (name could use some work but you get the idea).

I’m going to try to remember/link all my favourites but I’ll probably (definitely) forget some. And also I obviously haven’t read every Wenclair fic out there, my ‘to-read’ list is intimidatingly long and personal preferences are going to play a part in the fics I have included. But if I’ve missed some hidden gems please let me know!

Under the cut because this got long…

One-Shots/Short Chapter Fics:

the Witch & the Wyld by ohHOLYmoves - Long one-shot, Wednesday’s a witch who lives in the woods, Enid’s a werewolf stuck in her wolf form, need I say more?

Reset by Eggplant_Crusader - The OG. Probably the first fic read by a good portion of this fandom. Short, sweet, what the miscommunication trope is supposed to be.

her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest by lensbian_dykely - Long one-shot, Wednesday tells her parents that her and Enid are together without informing Enid.

What does he have that I don’t? by kofeew_milkk - Jealous Enid meets Werewolf instincts.

hello there, it’s me, the bull in the china shop by bogteats - Established Wenclair, 5+1 fic leading up to their first time.

I Think I Love You by tawen - Enid gets dosed with truth serum, Enid’s in love with Wednesday…

I Can Hear Your Heartbeat by LesbihonestGuys - Wednesday is a simp coming to terms with being in love and she’s real mad about it.

sandbox love by hanjisgirlfriend - Childhood friends falling in love.

gifts from a cat by Rennajade - Wednesday being a weirdo.

She’s my mate, Yoko! by lovely_shadow_minx - Enid realises Wednesday’s her mate and freaks out about it.

i tend to handle things usually by myself and i can’t ever seem to try and ask for help by Charlie_Balle - Wednesday’s actually allergic to colour.

The Art of Courting by Athems - Wednesday tries to court Enid but Enid thinks she’s threatening her.

Please (Just This Once) by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday trying to prevent a vision and the very emotional aftermath.

Wednesday Finds a Puppy by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday finds a random puppy in the woods and thinks it’s Enid… it’s not Enid.

Are You Going To Claim Your Prize? by wintersdume - The furs make a bet over who can get Wednesday’s number, Enid gets jealous.

It’s the Uniform, Isn’t it? by wintersdume - Enid plays baseballs, Wednesday gay panics.

Mobile Etiquette by Axinite25 - Wednesday not understanding the nuisances of teenage dating/friendship.

fuel the pyre of your enemies by heliamphoria - Wenclair meet cute while committing crimes.

Scrapped Scenes by MomochiZoey - Enid’s nosy and discovers that Wednesday’s self insert Viper now has a blonde love interest.

Premonition’s Embrace by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday has a vision that forces her to admit her feelings for Enid.

if she grabs for your hand (she might want a kiss) by ipretendtobesane - Short love confession, adorable.

Stormy Weather by SspiltDecision - Wednesday’s scared of thunder, Enid helps her.

don’t talk to me or my scary goth gf ever again by Kybee1497 - Protective (slightly feral) Enid and Xavier not taking a hint.

Complete Long Fics:

Terms of Endearment by Calchexxis - AU future fic/they didn’t meet at Nevermore, Enid goes to the Addams family for help after being kicked out of her pack for not being able to wolf-out but Wednesday’s the only one home, Wednesday has visions every time they touch about different versions of them/their ancestors throughout history, SIMPING, the worlds gayest mystery, I’ve read it several times and it always hits.

Forged in Blood by RiseAboveTheAshes_203 - Post season 1, I don’t know how to describe it other than angsty devotion, if for some insane reason you haven’t read this fic do it now.

The San Francisco Incident by Apeoflight - AU future fic/they don’t meet at Nevermore, Omegaverse, Werewolf mates, falling in love, real smutty, what’s not to love?

the nature of idiosyncrasies by bogteats - One of the fics I managed to catch early on and I was OBSESSED, AU, future fic, they weren’t friends at Nevermore but Enid had a crush, Omegaverse, their dynamic in this is to die for, angsty, smutty, a real and honest portrayal of not only Wenclair but people and love in general, read it, that was a threat, if you already have read it again.

raven in the den, wolf in the nest by Barbara_Lazuli - Canon divergence, fake dating to annoy Esther Sinclair, full honesty I read this awhile ago so I’m not 100% certain what happens but I remember enjoying it, might need to do a re-read.

black marked sun by chasinghours - AU college/university, Wednesday’s Yoko and Bianca’s roommate and Enid becomes infatuated, very cute, a little angsty but nothing crazy, shy Wednesday??? if I remember correctly, gay pining, we love to see it.

Purgatory Would Be Beautiful With You by EmilyWritesStuff - In universe, WEREWOLF MATES (aka the best Wenclair trope), fun and easy read, each chapter is like a slice of their life as mates.

Dance With Wolves by wolfwars - Fake dating BUT Wednesday doesn’t realise that it’s fake (because Enid was vague af), Enid’s pining, Wednesday’s confused, great idea and really well executed.

You Are my Moon by Bee-nut - Fake dating except Wednesday commits to the bit so hard she ends up facing off against Enid’s family aka a pack of werewolves in various dangerous challenges in order to win Enid’s hand, great idea, loved every minute of it.

Old Wounds by Sharpen_your_hatchet - Wenclair reunite years after graduation, less falling in love more realising they were always in love and coming to terms with that, sweet and easy read.

So This Is Love by LoriLoud - Unhinged Murderous Wenclair… no further explanation needed.

La Petite Mort by Apeoflight AND Wednesday’s Pet by Apeoflight - Smut, they’re both smut fics, I cannot remember which was which plot wise, but same author, they’re both really good and with a good helping of falling in love, yearning, denial of feelings, miscommunication, angst… all the good stuff.

Vortex by ALotOfConfusion - Need a refresher but childhood friends to lovers, little Wednesday wants to study werewolves and I remember enjoying it.

Puppy Love by Vaniloqu3nce - Enid’s wolf starts talking to her after recognising Wednesday as their mate, havoc follows, great read.

yours, eurydice by hanjisgirlfriend - AU, future fic, they never met at Nevermore, Wednesday’s a writer, Enid’s an actress, they live across the hall from each other, they write each other love letters and fall in love, cute af, a little angsty but not too heavy, definitely a must read.

It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you by SquishiestRose - Coffee shop AU, Wednesday works at the Weathervane and she has it BAD, the platonic Wyler this world needs, a little angsty but nothing crazy, cute, fun read.

Spell It Out by forgot_my_art - A spell gone wrong leads to both a misunderstanding and an accidental proposal… I mean it’s Wenclair, of course it did, fun read.

A raven’s dream of wolf by tokyocorgi - AU future fic/they never met at Nevermore, Wednesday’s sex dreams are also prophecy’s of her future, we love to see it.

All That’s Best of Dark and Bright by Porcie - Wednesday runs from her feelings post season 1, they reunite years later, Wednesday has a vision that forces her to stay in Enid’s life and by extension forces her to confront her feelings, they’re in love the entire time while pretending they aren’t, almost soulmate-ish, a bit angsty, but a fun read.

On-Going Long Fics:

[friendly reminder to read in-progress fic as a way to encourage and support our talented writers]

I’d Eat the Sun Just to Feel Your Warmth in my Bones by MsMio - AU college/university, I still need to catch up but ANGST, childhood friends, a very interesting take on the Addams family curse, Wednesday suffers from chronic pain, a good sad read but a hopeful one.

our immeasurable ties that bind by bogteats - Fantasy type AU, some very interesting world building, Enid wakes up pregnant with no idea who she is, where she is, or how she got there, super excited to see where this goes.

Blood and Shadows by DarkVisitors - Historical AU, western vibes, angst, horny gay yearning, a vague line in the summary that alludes to them being forced to marry at gun point but it hasn’t happened yet, I am beyond invested.

A Kidnapping By Any Other Name by RavenMoon33 - Wednesday “kidnaps” Enid to spend the break with her at the Addams Estate, I’m still catching up but Wenclair antics meets Addams Family antics, Wednesday’s having visions, there’s a mystery afoot and it’s linked to Wednesday’s ancestors. I might try to squeeze in another chapter later today actually 👀 (I didn’t read the OG so no spoilers!)

Whatever This Is… by CautiouslyPessimistic - A NEW FAKE DATING AU! In universe, takes place at Nevermore, only 2 chapters so far, but well written and I’m excited to see more.

Well… That’s Knew by Chaos_of_the_valkyries - Post season 1, Enid presents as a werewolf alpha and your honour they’re mates, protective Enid, Wednesday going soft, apparently I’ve missed the last two updates??? A crime, I will be rectifying that asap.

The Bite that Binds, the Gift that Gives by TieDyeKing - Historical Fantasy-ish AU, Wenclair arranged marriage, immediate connection but they’re being cautious/don’t trust each other, beautiful imagery/world building, an intriguing plot, Esther Sinclair being Esther Sinclair (aka causing problems), only a few chapters but one of my favourites since forever ago, in love with this fic and you should be too.

Symbiotic Relationship by SquishiestRose - AU future fic/they don’t meet at Nevermore, Enid gets kicked out of her pack and ends up desperate enough that she accepts a job working as the live in servant of a woman she’s pretty sure is going to kill her (hint: it’s just Wednesday being her normal off putting self), I’m a sucker for future fics with a very isolated and lonely Wednesday learning to fall in love and this is that.

#this just took me so fucking long to do holy shit #I had stuff to do today #worth it though #wednesday #wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #enid x wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #wenclair fic #wenclair fic rec #wenclair fanfic #wenclair fanfiction #asks #ptbv

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astarionfreak · 3 months

Text

At least you purr for me

// Astarion (Spawn) / Reader (Fem!Tav)

You've been faking orgasms your entire life. And yes, you even faked during that night in the forest with Astarion. After a couple bottles of wine, the truth comes out and Astarion wants to rectify the situation.

18+ • NSFW • 6.3K words (1/1) | Read on AO3 (a teaser is available below)

Tags: Smut, first orgasm, masturbation, inappropriate use of tadpole, vaginal fingering, penis in vagina sex, oral sex, vampire bites

Astarion’s body language is relaxed, but you can tell that something has changed. Your little confession earned you his full attention. He’s going to try to fuck you again, isn’t he?

Then you feel it, that familiar tug inside your mind. Your breath catches in your throat.

Is it true, what you said?

You nod.

I’d like to discuss this further with you if you’re interested?

You shrug.

Not the resounding ‘yes’ I was hoping for, darling.

Astarion leans back on one hand and takes a slow sip of wine from the goblet in his other hand.

It’s also not a ‘no.’

Astarion responds to something Karlach said. It earns him another laugh from the group. You’re still not focusing on the actual words being exchanged, you’re just watching Astarion.

Yes, well, now that I have all the information on your little . . . predicament. I’d like to try again.

There it is. Another man treating you like you’re a poor, broken thing that desperately needs him to be cured.

I don’t need you to fix me, Astarion.

You’re staring at him now, but he seems to be hardly paying you any attention. Even though he’s actively inside your mind.

Did I say I wanted to fix you? I only meant that I want to fuck you, dear.

You sigh.

I don’t know if that’s a good idea.

You shiver as phantom fingertips begin to trail, feather-light, up your inner thigh. Your mouth drops open and you inhale sharply. After only one night together, he knows exactly how to touch you.

Astarion is still in the middle of a conversation with the group while he teases you. How is he able to do this?

I only have good ideas. Just say the word and we can share another private moment.

His fingertips aren’t there, not really, and yet you feel them slide up and down your thigh. Every time his fingers move, they go farther and farther up — inching closer to where you really want them to be.

Maybe, Astarion. But when?

You shift in your seat, squirming as the invisible fingers slide to your other thigh — continuing to tease you with slow and gentle movements. You struggle to control your breathing, trying to focus now only on keeping your breath steady and slow so as to not raise any suspicions.

Now is as good a time as any.

Then he adds another hand. This time delicate fingers move down your neck, caress your shoulder, beneath your clothes and slowly brush over the swell of your breast. The fingers trace your curves, over and under.

You’re sitting rather stiffly now. The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention and goosebumps are scattered along your arms. If anyone were to look at you, they would surely know something is going on.

Read entire fic on AO3.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #astarion smut #bg3 smut #af.op #af.op.fic

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farfromstrange · 2 months

Text

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness.

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally.

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by.

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth.

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him.

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you.

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave.

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you.

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again.

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you.

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive.

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to.

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure.

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you.

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you.

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands.

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts.

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you.

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you.

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop.

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper.

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth.

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you.

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart.

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again.

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all.

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start?

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say.

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him.

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.”

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same.

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back.

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #frank castle #the punisher #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #frank castle x you #daredevil #charlie cox #from the vault #bonus fic #inspired by: now that we don't talk

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salsasvault · 3 months

Text

The Supermarket

supermarket!simon x reader

cw: this is a dark fic, themes of stalking and implied violence.

Part three

1 │2 │3

You go out to distract yourself and things go surprisingly well.

You never thought you would pick up the special interest of anyone, especially not enough for someone to consciously stalk you.

Several things have been going through your head since you were so “graciously” gifted four hundred dollars; contacted by said man who gifted the money, and then were unable to contact him again, because he somehow fell off the face of the earth leaving nothing but a “See you soon.”

The threat of a future encounter almost haunting you, and with no information it was like you were dealing with a ghost.

You tried, really, going over every detail sitting on the couch, note in hand, to figure out a way to track him down.

Replaying the scene over and over again, but it was getting harder to recall what exactly the texts said.

And so after gaining a slight headache, you come up with a plan of action; you think about going to the police, but with no evidence, besides a few words scrawled onto a page, it was less than ideal.

You knew who it was, had met him. But yet again you hadn’t seen his face, he hadn’t paid with his card, leaving any thought of tracking him, his name, or payment info down, out the window.

You call the police anyway, issue a report.

Heart still pounding but the anxiety starting to ease itself out of your bones. Knowing at least someone out there knows and if you wind up dead then they might know where to start.

So you sit on your couch for the rest of the night, after you stormed every room to ensure he was gone.

You hope he realizes you’re nothing special, just some girl who lives in a mediocre apartment, with less than impressive hobbies of online shopping.

Unable to sleep, you resumed just that, going back to scrolling hoping to ease the rest of your anxiety out of you.

Sleep overtook you on the couch, with whatever cheesy sitcom that was on in the background. You’d worry about your mystery man tomorrow.

The following morning was thankfully a Saturday, giving you time to not only process the event but to try and forget what seems like impending doom.

You don’t know much about your ghost, except he has a knack for being all mysterious, the mask, the deletion of all the messages, his cryptic note.

You’d only worry yourself further by thinking about the logistics. So you live in denial. Deciding to forget.

With a late start to the day, you make your way to the washroom, washing your face, brushing your teeth, the works.

Your phone buzzes next to you.

Heart momentarily stopping, your mind immediately going to him.

You flip the phone over and let out a breath of relief when it's just a friend from work. You wash your face before grabbing your phone to read the message.

A week prior, when you were feeling particularly lonely, you'd sleepily ranted to your friend about how much you just wanted to fall in love.

Of course in your sleepy stupor, words simply spewed out with no filter, but your friend had taken that as the greenlight in finally setting you up on the dates you'd been so quick to decline.

You barely even remember having that conversation, let alone agreeing. You left the dating scene a year ago, after too many dates gone wrong you'd decided to accept that maybe you just weren't cut out for it, and if you were meant to be in a relationship it'd somehow stumble into your life. So you swore off dates and hadn't been on one since.

Based on the texts filled with details about the upcoming date you'd "agreed" to, your half-asleep mind disagreed with your conscious one.

You read through it, she apparently set you up with a guy her cousin works with, who happens to be a mechanic. You'll meet each other at eight, at that fancy restaurant you like a couple blocks away. And maybe it was the post-shock from the dramatic night you had prior, but you send her a text saying you'd be there.

You could use any sort of distracting, and if that meant another failed date so be it. At least you'd get good food out of it.

The city lights illuminate the street, the night air chill with the promise of only plummeting to more frigid temperatures.

You head to the restaurant, coat wrapped around you firmly, lightly shivering. You're dressed in between fancy and casual, meaning the pair of tights you'd put on left your legs freezing and your skirt did little to stop that.

The restaurant was far enough to feel tiring but close enough that it'd be a waste to get a cab. You use the time to wrack your brain for the tips you'd learned the hard way during your dating days. Mentally preparing yourself for what could be another potential douchebag.

When you make it inside, you sigh in the warmth that engulfs you, greeting the waiter you let her know you're meeting someone. It's then you realize that you have no idea who you're meeting or what he looks like, scanning the restaurant you don't see anyone who'd fit the description of a single mechanic here on a date. You ask for a table wait.

After about 20 minutes you've consumed more breadsticks than you'd like to admit. Glancing at the time on your phone once more, you start to text your friend about the no-show.

Just as you're about to hit send someone clears their throat above you.

"Sorry hope I didn't keep' y waiting sweetheart" The man who's supposedly your date shrugs his jacket off, setting it behind his chair as he takes a seat.

You look him over, blond hair, brown eyes, a scar running along his brow, he's muscular too, expected for a mechanic. But you're still slightly thrown off kilter.

After you realize you've been staring too long you immediately jump into action, mentally scolding yourself.

"Oh no! Wasn't waiting at all." You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous tick.

The waiter comes by at that moment, asking if you'd need another refill of the bread. You politely decline, face heating up.

"Well, maybe I was waiting a little." An embarrassed smile follows, and he laughs, something you think you'd like to hear more often.

"M'sorry got caught in traffic but I'll make it up to 'ya, promise." He looks sincere, with a little dark sparkle in his eye but you don't read too much into it.

You both dissolve into conversation, surprisingly easy conversation. Maybe it was the fact it had been a while since you’d been on a date, but for once things were going well.

He was attentive, almost too attentive, listening to you wholeheartedly and when it came around to talking about himself it was modest, never cocky. And no fratboyish stories you were so used to hearing.

He spoke with consideration, and when he listened he made you feel like he cared.

With one date he had you craving more.

Blinded by his charm you don’t notice his lack of information on fixing cars, or how he found your table so quickly while supposedly not knowing you and you certainly don’t notice the fresh bruises on his knuckles. Or the fact he didn’t bring a car with him.

As you both leave, the promise of dessert still on the agenda, you walk almost drunkenly in conversation. Laughter filling the frigid night air.

And so, you make plans to meet again.

Over the next couple of weeks, you continue to see Simon, and over the next couple of weeks, you receive no word from your ghost.

Almost having forgotten he even existed, and with the man who had filled your life so quickly, it felt like an eternity that said chapter of your life occurred.

He’s presumably lost interest like you suspected and you're thankful for it, you would’ve appreciated some closure, but his absence has only helped you feel more confident he won’t return.

Things were going well for you, your friend at work was beyond happy you’d hit it off with Simon, and you were finally relaxed.

Your little good fortune however was soon to be interrupted.

i know it’s a cliffhanger BUT it’ll make part four more delicious i swear LMAO

tags: @neoarchipelago

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #ghost x reader

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supercriminalbean · 7 months

Note

Hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Hotch x Male reader, the team get a case that leads back to an old unsolved case of a group of children going missing and start showing up dead at different ages from sever injuries from fighting(?)

Reader is part of the bau but has alot of secrets to hide including being one of the younger children that went missing and managed to escape but not without physical and emotional scars (being forced to play a cruel game of survival of the fittest for the entertainment of the Unsub who streamed the gruesome cruelty)

Maybe the unsub captures reader cause he was the one that got away and the team start to peice together reader was one of the missing kids by how fast reader state of mind went to a primal kill or die (like readers afraid he'll die there and no one will ever find him or know or care so when they do he's relived and breaks down but another part of him think he doesn't deserve it cause of what he's done to survive)

Hotch being there for reader

FIGHT CLUB

Aaron Hotchner x Male!Reader.

Summary: The reader is trying to find the group that ruin his life, but keeping it a secret from his team is differcult when he has to ask them for help.

Warning: Dark fic. Blood, fighting, death, abuse, kidnapping, swearing, drugs, unsub violence, bad eatting habits, bad self care, scars, angst. This whole fic is just dark and strange the ask it self is amazing and may help you know if this is something you can handle. (Any other warnings let me know xx)

Words: 9.4k

A/N: Hiiii! Omg this ask 😍😍 I love you!! I had to split this into a couple different parts due to I'm up to 12k words and got so much more i wanna add to it right now. Next part will be posted next week (hopefully!!) I just couldn't wait to post this. I did change it a little and hope this is what you were after. 🖤🖤 thank you for the request my love.

Part two. Part three. Part four.

Another body has shown up, and if you're right another kid will go missing in just a couple hours a few towns over from the latest body. You know it's just a matter of time as you read the article, one that barely has any information of the latest victim found, another teen boy. While the article prints out you give the detective on the case a call, you know you shouldn't, you should just let this go until your team is called in properly. But hey, there is no harm in asking innocent questions, is there?

“Hello, this is Detective Rose,” An older man answers.

“Hello Detective, I'm with the FBI, SSA agent (Y/L) from the Bau unit” Your voice comes out sharp as you hold back the emotions swirling in your mind. If this is the group you believe it is, you're going to have to bring your team in, but no way could they know just how long you have been looking for them.

“Oh Agent, how can I help?” The man's voice is filled with confusion.

“I heard you found a body of a teenage boy, I read in the report he was badly injured and a

John doe, look I think he might be connected to a case I'm working and I need you to send me all the information and photos of this boy you have as soon as you can” You don’t have time to explain to him, nor the patience.

“Case, but there's only one body?” There's a small arrogance laying under his tone as he speaks his next words. “Plus he seems to be a runaway, he doesn’t seem like the type anyone would be after”

“Excuse me” You can’t help but sneer into the phone, anger filling you up. “How dare you, he is a child, someone has to be missing him and even if not he deserves justice, so I figure you better send me what I asked for before I called your boss” Venom seems to drip from your words as your grip the phone like your life depends on it. Silence fills the other end and your patience seems to dry up, opening your mouth to send him another order when he finally speaks up again.

“Of course we don’t need that, files and photos have been sent, reach out again if I —” You hang up before he finishes speaking, you don’t need anything more from him.

~~~

Sitting on your couch, your mind spinning as you go through the new photos of the crime scene you have received. This is it, this is them, no doubt about it. He fits the victimology, he’s the right age, fit and covered in so many cuts and bruises it’s impossible to see his face. What makes your heart drop the most is the cut on his left forearm, two other previous victims also had it. You know how they got it, hell you got one quite similar to it. Which means you know where they are being kept and where they are going next which means it's time to bring your team in. Grabbing the pile of older files, ones that you have collected over the years, pulling the top few files off the top for the team to see, placing the older ones at the bottom of your to go bag. You can’t let your team know just how long you have been investigating this case. If you do things could unravel and your past could be exposed, the one thing that could never happen, because if it does you might not have a job any more.

Your phone starts dinging, your alarm going off. Great you pulled another all nighter, something you have been warned against many times in the past month.

~~~

Hotch has been on your ass a lot lately about looking after yourself, he’s the only one who can tell when you're struggling. Maybe that's why you're having a hard time figuring out how to bring this case to him. You know he’s going to know this isn’t just a regular case for you, you might be good at hiding your personal life and emotions from the team but that doesn’t include Aaron. You're not sure how you grew close to your boss, you two have hangout, outside of work many times, even including getting to know Jack and spending many weekends watching his soccer games, and of course getting ice cream afterwards as a reward. Somehow Aaron managed to get you to join them both for movie nights and your friendship has never been stronger than that night. But then you had to go and ruin it, pulling yourself away from him, when things started feeling real. You started feeling like you belong and not just with him, but with the team you're surrounded by. Belonging somewhere is something you have never felt before and it's terrifying, so you pull away from them all. Space is a good thing plus there were only a few reasons you took this job a few years ago and you need to remember that.

~~~

You're the first one at the office that morning, even beating Hotch to the office for once. You wait at your desk, your desk is different from the others. They all have personal items on their desk, things that make their desk seem more welcoming and comforting. Except yours, its fill of paperwork and a small fake desk plant that Garcia placed there one day that you just didn’t have the heart to move. Aaron arrives not long after you. Aaron stops by the glass door when he spots you, and he’s glad you're facing the other way so he can just watch you for a moment. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, the last few weeks you have been more off than normal. You're someone who keeps to themself and he knows that, maybe that's why he was surprised when you were spending a lot of your time with him and Jack. Not that he minded at all, he loves spending time with you, maybe more than a boss should but he shouldn’t be blamed when it comes to you, you're different. But when he was spending time with you, he managed to figure out your tell, and how you go inside your own mind when things aren’t right. Maybe that's why, even when you started putting more distance between you both, he couldn't help but remind you to get some sleep or remind you to eat, the two things you always seem to forget about. Aaron lets out a small breath, preparing himself for whatever the reason is that you're the first one here. The glass doors open and within a second you're spinning around in your chair, and the first thing Aaron notices is the files in your hands and then the bags underneath your determined eyes.

“Good Morning Hotch” Your voice is full of energy, which he can only put down to the empty coffee cup beside you.

“Morning, you’re here early” Aaron stares at you questionably, raising his eyebrow when you don’t respond. “Is there a reason why?”

“I need to talk to you, it's important” You jump up quickly, meeting him in the middle of the room.

“Alright, my office then” He bites back a sigh as you nod enthusiastically, climbing up the stairs before him. He can’t help himself but compare you to a puppy, one who uses up all their energy but still refuses to back down when it's time to rest. He’s waiting for you to burn out, it may have been three years with you on the team, but he can’t help but wait for you to break. He doesn’t understand how anyone could keep going at the pace you do without any consequences.

~~~

You both enter his office, Aaron places his bag down before taking a seat at his desk, signalling you to do the same, so you do.

“Okay so I found—” You can’t help but start, holding your own homemade files,your leg bouncing as you speak.

“Stop” Hotch holds his hand up to silence you, dread fills your eyes as you do. “Did you sleep last night?” Accusation dripping from his words, his stern stare digging straight into your sole, making a strange shiver roll down your spine.

“That's not important” The confidence seems to slip by as he stares at you longer, you can’t help but sink in your chair, the uncomfortableness just making you want to run.

“But it is, I need to know my agents are looking after themself” Aaron holds back the proper lectures he wants to give you. Sometimes he wonders how you managed to become a full functioning adult with the way you treat your body, running yourself so low he wonders how you're alive at all.

“I look after myself perfectly fine Aaron” You have to physically bite your tongue to hold back the taunt you want to say instead, but you need him to listen to you instead.

“Do you, because you didn’t sleep last night, and can you even tell me the last time you ate something homemade?”

“Last night” Smirking cockily at him, you indeed did make something last night so he can suck it.

“It doesn’t count if it was your usual cheese on toast” Aaron smirks as yours slowly disappears.

“Okay, uncalled for Hotch” Grumbling as you place the files down before crossing your arms. “Look I get it, I need to improve, but I need your help on something much more important, please?” Your mask starts dropping, the fear and doubtfulness visible for just a few seconds, before you pull yourself together again, your face hardening up again.

~~~

“Tell me what this is?” Hotch reaches for the files, the pile alot bigger than he first thought it was.

“Someone is kidnapping teenages all over the country, and just hours surrounded the kidnapping another teenage is found dead a few towns over from the new victim, I have found about seven different cases over the course of 18 months so far, but the dead victims are never the ones from the recent kidnappings, they look older almost like they could have been kidnapped years prior maybe, they all have the same marks all over their body, the victimology is the same” You take a deep breath as Hotch flicks throughs the file. “The ones being taken are either from abusive households or already living on the street, they aim for the ones who are strong but not confident, they seem to find the quiet ones are go after them, but they are quick, they don’t leave much room for the kids to escape, they move fast” Your words seem to run from your mouth, the rush to get out of your mind and into Aarons ear makes you forget to breathe. The urgency is great and he just doesn't understand.

“You keep saying they” Hotch looks up the files, his boss face activated, his lips pursed together. His eyes burn into you once more, you have to do everything in your power to not physically respond to that call out, unfortunately your body straightens up, your throat clutching.

“I believe it has to be at least two unsubs if not more, and one of them could possibly be a woman” You take a deeper breath as your heart starts to pace, your mind screaming at you to stop as Aaron's eyes narrow more.

“And why do you think that?”

“Because they're fast, they move around the country, and according to the autopsy the kids are well nutritious, they cause of death is mainly blood lose, or hits to the head, I think—-” You quickly cut yourself off. No you can’t say that, you can’t let that detail out quite yet, he won’t understand, no one will understand not yet. “I think they must be keeping them somewhere safe before they dispose of them” You change the words that almost slip out quickly, but not fast enough for Hotch to not notice. Hotch watches you closely as you grow quiet, waiting for his response. Your leg bouncing as your nails dig into your arms, your eyes begging him to say something, just anything.

“What do you think they are doing to them if they are keeping them for so long then?” His question is innocent enough, but oh lord. Your stomach is now on fire, your eyes darken with anger as you speak.

“Training them to fight each other, fight to the death and then they keep the strong ones for who knows what” Oh but you know, oh you know too well what they are keeping them for and that makes you want to be sick.

~~~

Silence fills the office as he stares at you, the anger that fills your eyes is something he hasn’t seen before, and he has seen you angry. But this is different, this is almost a murderous glaze in your eyes, something that makes Aaron uncomfortable.

He knows what he has to do, even if he doesn’t like it.

“How long have you been investigating this, how did you manage to get all of this information?” His voice is low as he speaks, his words filling with disappointment as he speaks.

“A few months” A lie, you both know that. But Aaron knows better than to question that right now, the can of worms that could open could be too hard to close.

“Why are you just bringing this to me now?” His voice raises, the disappointment sweeping out. “You should of came to me as soon as you saw a pattern forming”

“I know I should have, but I wanted to see if I was right, maybe see if I could find any clues before bringing the team into a goose chase” You try to reason with him, gulping as if you know what you have to say. “I think I found them, and if I'm right another person was taken last night and I have a feeling that another body will be found near the state line of Nebraska and Wyoming, we need to take this case, we need to save them” A shaky breath leaves you as you lean forward, placing your hands on the desk, your eyes pleading.

“Aar, please trust me on this” Gulping thickly as you see his eye flash with something unreadable as you say his old nickname, one you haven’t used in months.

“I need to make a few phone calls” He looks away from you as he picks up the phone. Standing up you smile slightly at him, thanking him quietly as you make your way out.

~~~

The team soon arrives within the hour, where hotch is up in his office on the phone the whole time. Your body is on edge, sipping on your third cup of coffee as your mind runs. The team all stood around, talking and laughing as they usually do. Of course they try to get you to join in, but with one glance at you, they know this morning is not the time to get you to join in with them. It's Dave that talks to you this morning, his eyes couldn’t help but keep drifting to you as the team standing around teasing Reid and his crosswords.

“Hey kiddo” Dave stands in front of you, pulling you from your mind, and mainly your eyes off Aarons offices.

“Ah, Morning Sir” Forcing a small smile as you do your best to focus on him, and not whatever conversation is going on inside the office right now.

“How many times have I told you Rossi, or Dave is fine? '' He smile’s down at you, hating to see the bags underneath your eyes, or the fresh scratch mask around your wrist. You wear long sleeves half the time, but that doesn’t stop the team from seeing the way your scratch at your arms when you get overwhelmed.

“Right sorry” Pushing a small chuckle out, as you give him a weak smile. “My bad”

“It's okay, are you doing alright?” Rossi looks down at you worriedly, you weren’t the most talkative but right now you don’t even seem to know how to be your regular self.

“Fine si– Rossi” Your body tenses at the slip up, your eyes flicker back up to Aaron's office.

“Alright, if you ever need to talk kiddo you know I'm around” He smiles at you, one that's full of concern. A part of him wants to reach out, place a hand on your shoulder so you get the message, but he knows it won’t work with you. You don’t react well to physical touch, you jump when someone gets too close. The team remembers the first time Garica tried to give you a hug, you jumped back, hiding behind Morgan who was closest to you in that moment. She touched your shoulders, and you have never moved so fast, your body tensing your hands rolling into fist. You apologised as soon as you calmed down, you gave them no reasoning as to why. But they understood and no one has tried to touch you since, they even became your human shields when random people would try to hug you as a thank you. You were extremely grateful for that, it's been like that for three years now and still no one asks you why and you owe them so much for that.

~~~

Hotch finally emerges from his office after another hour, a sour look plastered across his face, and when you catch his eyes you know why. They found the body.

“We got a case” Hotch calls out to his team, everyone's head shoots up to him. A deep unnerving tension seems to fill the room due to the seriousness on his face, and the way his eyes never leave yours. The air seems to leave your lungs as you stand up, grabbing your notebook off your desk before following the team into the conference room. Hotch waits by the door as the team walks in, placing his hand up in front of you to stop you.

“One moment” His voice is low as he speaks, not wishing for the team to overhear.

“We found two bodies, one of them is Jason Ducan” Aaron speaks softly, as he watches your face flicker with recognition at that name.

“They found a body” You stare up at him, your eyes now empty of emotions, putting them on the backboard as you prepare for this case.

“Jason Ducan, he was my first missing kid when I worked here” Your breathing hitches as fear flashes through your mind, doing your best to keep your poker face on. Do they know where you work, have they been keeping tabs on you for the last three years? Or maybe they never stop keeping tabs on you.

“He doesn’t fit the profile, he was seven, from a good family. He was too young there is no way they would take someone from a family like that, it would be too difficult” Your mind spins as you speak, your words speeding up, slipping over each other in a hurry. Hotch hates the far away look that creeps into your eyes, almost more than he hates the numbness that dominates inside you. Taking a deep breath, hoping he doesn’t make it worse, Aaron slowly reaches out to you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You flinch sharply, your eyes narrowing on his hand, on his familiar touch. Aaron is the only one allowed to touch you, and only at certain times, only when you're ready for it, and normally you welcome his touch. Today is not the day you welcome it, his touch feels like fire, it sends painful memories of your past through your mind.

“Don’t” Your voice is low and full of danger, a shaky breath follows as he doesnt let go immediately.

“You need to tell me if this case gets too much, okay” Aaron words hold no judgement as he lets you go and just like he expected you stroll straight past him, anger radiating off you, as you fall into the chair beside Morgan.

~~~

Hotch starts the briefing, grabbing the team's attention with your homemade files. He informs them of everything you had told him that morning, minus your theories.

“So you made these files?” It was Morgan who asked the question. The one thing that had confused the whole team, because this screamed to them as an off the books case, something Hotch would never do.

“No I did” You speak up, leaning forward. You almost feel bored as Hotch gives the team the basic information, information you have been sitting on for many years. Everyone's heads turn straight to you, curiosity and surprised looks all over them. The quiet one who normally seems to keep to themself, is investigating a crime alone, and somehow convince Hotch to make it a real case. Oh you could feel the questions and doubt spreading throughout the room, and all you do is smirk at them as you lean forward.

“I didn’t think much of it at first, but something didn’t feel right so once I saw a second body drop in the same way. I started investigating a bit more, but I was always weeks behind, so in my time of hoping for new leads I went back and searched months back trying to find anything” You give them a brief explanation, making sure you don’t make eye contact with anyone, not needing to lose your nerve right now. The room stays quiet, giving you the confidence to keep talking, so taking a deep calming breath you continue.

“After I got an alert last night of a kid going missing, I knew it was them. Conor Blue, he fits the description that the unsubs go after. He’s between the age of Nine and fourteen, he came from an abusive household and he’s into sports which isn’t always a go to, but something I see they prefer” You speak slower than this morning, remembering to breathe as you do. Hotch might be hard to convince, but making sure the whole team has your back on this case, is something you didn’t think through. You needed their help, because without the team, you can’t get close enough to get rid of them for good.

“How long have you been looking into this?” Emily asks, looking over at you with concern. She can see ghosts in your eyes, and whatever answer you give her, she’s not going to believe you.

“About four months” Your lie is solided, you know that, you made sure all the files you gave them only look that old. Even if they have older information inside you can say it's from research.

“He came to me this morning, and I have been on the phone with a few detectives” Aaron glances at you as he says that, your stomach drops. He knows you used your FBI statues to gather information you weren’t supposed to have, opps. “And It seems to be happening all over the country, so we need to make a fast move on this case, two new bodies were discovered this morning” Hotch continues, the team watches you instead of Hotch. They all notice the tense look on your face, the way your eyes darken, your lips tightening as a way to stop yourself from interrupting the boss. Photos pop up on the screen as Hotch keeps speaking, your eyes land on the photos, your stomach twisting. Jason laid in the dirt, his body covered in bruises and blood, a hopeless look in his eyes. But what makes your mind ache is the body laying beside the ten year old boy. A 20 year old guy. He looks strong, someone who you know could only live that long in that place, if they were extremely strong and brave. The marks around his neck send a shiver down your body, your stomach swooshes so much you think you're going to be ill. He’s the only one that ages with that mark, and there is only one guy who would do that. He’s still there, and that's all your fault.

~~~

“So (Y/n), any theories?” Rossi the one to ask you, his eyes on the notebook that you're clutching tightly.

“Quite a few” You glance up at Hotch, silently asking for permission to take over, he gives a quick nod and with that it's your turn. “It's a team, I want to say at least two older ones that have been doing this for many, many years, and if anyone has lasted long enough they would train them to join them, using them to find more opposition. They need a good routine of fighters, more opportunity for them to grow” You speak in a matter of fact, your fingers tapping away at the table.

“What makes you think they are fighting each other?” JJ glances at you from the photos.

“Easy, look at them, there is only one way someone can get that many bruises and cuts on them. Also not to mention the autopsy results mention multiple broken bones that have healed, internal bleeding due to multiple blunt force trauma” Your not sure why but air soon becomes harder to inhale, it feels thick and the room starts heating up. Everyones eyes are on you, but you can’t look at them so you're focusing on the files in front of you instead. “Also look at their hands, they aren’t just defensive wounds, they fit back, also they are strong, it's like they train them. Plus they are well nourished so I guess someone is looking after them, my guess is a women is one of our unsubs”

“That’s one hell of a theory” Morgan says, his eyes burning into you. His gut is full of distrust when it comes to you with this case, something doesn't seem right.

“I know, but have a look and you will see why I’m right, also this case is nothing like we are use to, I have many theories and most of them are strange but, you can see why” You speak from gritting teeth, your hand now gripping the table in front of you.

“We are going to Nebraska, wheels up in thirty” Aaron eyes stay on you as you zoom out of the room, dying for some fresh air.

~~~

“Jupiter wake up” Her viciouses voice fills your ears, as a piercing pain invades your side. A sharp hiss slips through your lips as your eyes shoot open, your body shooting up into a sitting position, pushing the thin blanket to the side. Inside you feel numb, nothing inside you is alive anymore, years of training has made you the perfect soldier.

“Morning Ma’am” Your voice is emotionless, your eyes are dead as you stand up looking up at her. Keeping your hands behind you, your head slightly bent.

“We have a new comer, you are to welcome them this morning, I don’t care if they live or die just clean up your mess” Her voice is assertive, a cunning look on her face as she leads you down the hall and past the other trainee soldiers. Some of them are still asleep, most of them without blankets, only winners get comfort items. You stroll past the training room where your fellow soldiers are lifting weights before being allowed to eat. You glance at them a part of you wishing you could join them, but that's not your task this morning. Instead you get to fight, and you get to choose the outcome, oh you do enjoy these fights. You always win, and even better, it doesn’t take much effort. Ma’am leads you to the empty swimming pool, where most fights to the death take place. As you walk over to the edge you spot your opponent, he looks small and extremely frightened, barely a challenge. He’s already got blood over his face as he hides on the corner of the pool, the area where the bloodstains seem to be less. A small chuckle leaves you as you check him out, the thoughts of destroying him winding you up. Licking your lips softly before glancing over at Ma’am waiting for permission to go down.

“Go on, but try and make it fair” She laughs softly, enjoying the murderous gaze in your eyes. In a matter of seconds you're jumping into the pool, smirking darkly as you make your way over to him. The boy looks to be about 14 or 15, a couple years or so younger than you. He looks up at you, a confused and scared look plastered over his face, it grows when you stop a few metres back from him.

“Y you… you're alive” His whisper is barely audible, but it makes you freeze. That voice, you know that voice, how?

“Come here, now” You growl at him, gritting your teeth as you stare into his eyes.

“I thought you died (Y/n)” He takes a small step forward staring at you with hope. Oh how wrong that looks for a place like this.

“That's not my name” You spit at him, a horrible shiver dripping down your spine.

“Yes it is” He speaks more confidently as he steps closer. “Your name is (Y/n), we used to be friends” That name, why do you know that name, it's wrong, it's so wrong.

“I don’t know you” You sneer at him, taking a step towards him, dangour radiating off you.

“Yes you do, we used to be best friends, (Y/n) please you have to remember me, its Ryan” He begs you to remember. You freeze, Ryan. You know a Ryan, but he’s younger than him, Ryan was ten last time you saw him. But this can’t be him, because that part of your life is long gone, and who the hell does this guy think he is turning up claiming to be a part of that time. You react quickly with a sharp growl escaping you as you launch yourself on him.

“I don’t know you!” You scream as you grab him by his neck, and punch him repeatedly with your other hand. You're a lot stronger than him, using all your strength to pound into him. You let go of his neck, he falls forward with a gasp, begging you to stop but it falls on deaf ears. You knee him in the stomach as he falls forward, grabbing his hair holding him in place as you let him have it.

“I don't know you” You scream as your anger explodes. “I don’t know (Y/n)!” You shove him into the wall, his body slides down, so you kick him, as you scream repeatedly. “I don't know Ryan” You keep screaming, blood starts to pile around him, as you lose control. “I don’t know you!”

~~~

“I don’t know you!” A scream invades the quietness of the jet. Everyone's head turns towards the scream full of pain, landing on you. You're asleep at the back of the jet, shaking violently with tears streaming down your face. Aaron is up in a matter of seconds, running quickly towards you. The team stays quiet, letting Hotch take control of this situation. He drops to his knees beside you, small whimpers and cries leaves you as you stay dead asleep.

“(Y/n), wake up” He places his hand firmly on your arm, giving you a rough shake. But nothing, you stay asleep but your cries get louder.

(Y/n), open your eyes” Aaron shakes you again sharper and luck is on his side. Your eyes shoot open, breathing heavily as you scan your surroundings. The jet, you're on the jet, with your team. Oh shit your team, everyone is watching you, they stare at you with unreadable emotions on their faces, and you hate it. Soon you let your eyes drop down to the man beside you, fear enters you quickly, yanking away from his touch you straighten up quickly.

“Sir, I’m so sorry sir I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I am extremely sorry sir It won’t happen again” Your words fly out of you with fear, your breathing picking up, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you watch him, waiting for the punishment.

“It's okay” Aaron gulps, hating the fear you're experiencing, the panic attack that’s consuming you. “You are okay, you are safe here” Aaron speaks calmly, taking the chance to place his hand on yours, he’s grateful you don’t pull back.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep” Your voice grows quiet, your lip quivering as the adrenaline dies down.

“It's okay you're allowed to fall asleep” Aaron reassures you, his thumb running over the back of your hand smoothly.

“I am?” You look up at him hopeful, your eyes full of tears. You almost seem child-like as you ask that simple question.

“Yes you are, I only woke you because you were having a nightmare” Aaron smiles softly at you, hoping he doesn’t embarrass you as he informs you.

“Oh no” You yank away from his touch, panic filling you. You know you sleep talk occasionally, what the hell did you say?

“We all get them, its okay”

“No.. what did I say?” You stare at him with a look of horror. Aaron's face drops, he knows that look, he’s seen it almost everyday of this job. A look victims have when they open up to much of their past, scared their abusiver will come back for them.

“You didn’t say much” He tries his best to comfort you but he knows that determined look in your eyes. “You said ‘I don't know you’ ”

A small sigh leaves you as you lean your head back in relief, that's all you said then you are fine, you can recover from that. “Thank you” You force a small smile, before raising your voice, turning to look at your coworkers who all seem to be pretending not to pay attention anymore.

“Sorry for disturbing you”

“You're not disturbing us” Hotch is quick to correct you, hating to think that you would think you're a bother. “If you want to talk about it–”

“No thank you, I’m fine” You interpret him quickly, a sharp glare and turning your back to him is all the dismissal he needs.

~~~

You're in the SUV with Morgan and Rossi, heading downtown to the morgue. You sat in the back seat, reading through the Jason Ducan files, before sighing loudly and laying your head back. The two men in the front seat share some curious looks before glancing back at you.

“You alright back there” Morgan questions you, a small smile on his face.

“Not at all, this makes no sense at all” rubbing your forehead as the frustration causes another headache. “Why the hell did they take Jason Ducan three years ago he doesn’t fit the profile and they wouldn’t of dumped him like that he would of hide the body better, you would think they know not to show of the bodies we are investigating” You can’t hide the frustration and anger invading you, your hand squeezing into fist and you think back. He was a clue back then yet you were so focused on moving on you didn’t see it, this is bad.

“Maybe your profile is wrong” Dave shrugs as he speaks, as if it's a casual thing.

“My profile is not wrong!” You snap at him, the anger burning away at your chest.

“I still don’t understand your interest in this case” Derek turns around to face you, a distrustful look in his eyes, one you can’t help but return.

“Well, no one was looking into it, someone has to care. I'm sorry if that irritates you Derek” Glaring deadly at him, as his eyes widen just slightly at your comeback before turning back to the front.

“I was just asking.'' He grumbles before glancing at Dave who is staring at you through the rearview mirror, watching as your face drops as you cross your arms.

~~~

You are shown the bodies and as the doctor talks you can’t hear her, the words flying over your head as you grab some gloves and start touching the bodies. Three pairs of eyes on you, watching like a hawk as you move like lightning. Your hands travel around the older unnamed victim's neck. The dark unformed bruises with a slight cut you can tell were made with wire, your stomach spinning as you move away from it and down to his feet.

“His neck wound was made by wire” You state as you kneel down by his feet, anger flooding through you as you see the scars. They are doing it again. “Holy shit” Your words are barely audible, but Morgan catches them, his eyebrow narrowing as he watches you.

“What did you find (Y/l)” Morgan makes his way over to you, spotting fear deep inside your eyes before you quickly mask the emotion once more.

“You need to ring Garcia” You look up at him, gulping thickly. “I think they are recording them”

“What, how can you tell?” It's Rossi that asks as he walks over, joining you and Morgan at the feet of the victims.

“Look at this” You show them the bottom of the left foot of the victim, where a big L is cut into along with the name victory which looks like it has been tried to be cut out.

“Okay” Morgan looks at you puzzled. “How did you get that they recorded them from this?”

“The L, It means they lost, I bet they showed this to the camera to show them that they truly did lose this time” Maybe what you said doesn’t make sense to the profilers, but it's what they do. But they stopped, you know they stopped. You couldn’t find them on the dark web so they had to have stopped but you never relooked when the bodies started dropping again.

“You can’t know that” Morgan goes to argue with you, a hand on his arm stops him. He turns his head to see Dave shaking his head at him. Morgan stares at him stumped wanting to argue but he can read that look in Dave’s eyes, there is something more going on here.

“It makes sense, they can earn money this way and also they are sick twisted little fuckers who can find other twisted fuckers to enjoy in on their torment as well” You speak quickly as you pull your phone out, taking photos of his foot.

“Okay I guess I’ll call Penelope then” Morgan sighs glancing at the dead set look on your face before walking out. You go to move onto Jason Ducan, touching his foot lightly before freezing. You stare at him for a few moments, your body frozen in place. He’s too young, his family loved him. How could they take him from them? It doesn't make sense.

“(Y/n), do you want me to do it?” Dave calls out to you kindly, breaking up your thoughts.

“No I got it” You reply letting out a small breath before pulling back his foot and taking a photo. A small W has been crossed out and replaced with a L, your heart crashing into your stomach as you see it. In a flash you're pulling away and making your way outside for some fresh air.

~~~

You lean against the SUV as you ring Reid, who is driving to see the other body that was discovered last night.

“Hey (Y/l), You're on speaker phone” You can hear Reid smile through the phone.

“Hey guys, are you at the body yet?” You focus on slowly your racing heart beat as you speak to them, readying yourself to pass on the information.

“Not yet, we are still two and half hours out from the town” Emily response, glancing at the phone as she drives.

“Okay that's fine, I just have a few things I need you to look at when you get there” Taking a breath as you think back to the cut on Jason's foot. “On his left foot I need you to see if there is anything cut into it, I am sending you a photo of the other two victims' feet okay” You quickly send them the photos.

“Okay I got it” Reid replies after a few moments.

“Oh that's gross” Emily groans.

“That's because you hate feet” Smirking just a little at her reaction.

“It's not my fault they are smelly and gross” She laughs just a little.

“Also you two should be driving through a small town called Cobar, it's a small town with a big population of homeless teenages It might pay to stop and talk to them, see if they have seen anything out of place lately” You take a sharp breath as a strange feeling starts filling you as you think about that place.

“Sure we can do that” Emily nods, her face tightening into a frown. “Hey, um are you okay?”

“I'm good, why?” Your lips pull into a thin line as you line.

“Because this case seems to be weighing on you alot” She explains, tapping her finger on the steering wheel.

“Nope It's just another case, I gotta go” You quickly hang up before she can ask more questions. Reid and Prentiss share some strange and concerning looks as the phone beeps.

“What is he hiding?” Emily mumbles to herself as she stares out at the road.

~~~

The rest of the day goes by quickly, you three end up meeting up with JJ and Hotch back at the precinct. Rossi and Morgan go and talk with Jason Duncan's parents once they arrive trying to get more information from them. JJ works with other precincts where the other bodies and missing boys have been reported, trying to get all the information she can. You and Hotch work together trying to organise a timeline for the last 12 months, and with all the information you already have some parts are easy to fill in. Until he starts questioning you on the one part you can’t answer.

“They shouldn’t be here, they should have gone east” Hotch sighs as you both stare at the map laid across the table.

“I agree but they didn’t” You don’t agree with that, but according to the timeline it makes sense.

“But do you agree?” Hotch looks up at you, doubt playing across his face.

“What are you getting at Hotch?” Huffing little as you pick up your coffee, staring back at him.

“You said they would be coming this way, so why would you think that?” There’s his stern look eating at you. Making your stomach sink as you hide the truth from him. The truth is, you know their base is around here. This town is the first thing you remember when you escape but you can’t tell him that, no one can know.

“I don't know” You lie, and it's a bad one.

“Don’t lie to me”

“I'm not lying!” You don’t mean to snap at him, but fear and guilt were eating away at you and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Then tell me the truth” His words are sharp and to the point, but his face stays calm, his eyes soft and caring as he stares at you.

“Fine, I had a feeling like this town means something, because look at the pattern here Aaron” Your shoulders tenses up as you lean forward, pointing at the map. “Look, they always avoid this town, and they always avoided leaving bodies in this state until last night so since they did that I decided to take a risk and wait for them to leave us something around here and do you want to know what I’m thinking right now” A smirk slips onto your lips as you speak, a feeling of excitement spreads throughout you as you share your idea.

“You think their base is around here” Aaron finishes your thought, not liking that smirk on your face.

“Exactly and if they left us this breadcrumb it only means two things, one they are somehow becoming sloppy or two—”

“They know you are investigating them” He finishes your sentence again, dread filling him due to just how close you are to this investigation.

“Not me, but someone yes and we can use that”

“How?”

Luckily Aaron's phone rings just before you have to answer that.

“It's Garcia” He glances at you before answering it, placing it on speaker. “Hey Garcia, what do you got?”

“Well boss man, I got good news and some gross news” Penelope's sweet voice floats through the phone.

“What's the good news Garica?” You straighten up as you hope.

“Well our unnamed victim is Liam Clark, he’s 19 years old and went missing five years ago in florida” Garcia informs you both just as the door to the conference room opens and the rest of the team walks in.

“Alright, can you send through his family information please” You sigh, leaning backwards in your chair, the stress of the case becoming too much.

“Will do my love, now are we ready for some more information?” Her voice starts filling with dread as she types aways.

“Hit us with the good stuff baby girl” Morgan speaks up, coming to sit on the edge of the table by the phone.

“Oh I wish it was good news chocolate thunder, but (Y/n) was right.” She sighs as Aaron phones dings. “I found their profile on the dark web and all their live streams have been saved, there are hundreds of them, maybe even closer to a thousand, and they got back many, many years” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t looked at them all yet but there are some that are over 25 years old”

Your heart sinks, your palms becoming sweaty as realisation sits in. Your videos are still up, your team could find out in a matter of seconds what you are.

“25 years…” Your voice is as quiet as a mouse, your throat tightening up as your team glances over at you. “How did no one see this?” Your voice gets louder, filling with anger as you jump to your feet.

“They hide their tracks well” Reid speaks up, his eyes focused on you.

“Bullshit, no one can hide their tracks that well!”

“Okay you need to take a breath” Hotch gets up, walking closer to you. Watching the anger firing up inside your eyes.

“No, we need to find these monsters and make them pay, they have hurt and ruined so many innocent people's lives” You spit the words out, your hands squeezing into fist.

“Is that all?” Morgan questions you, getting up, standing uncomfortably close to you.

“What's that meant to mean!?” Your body is already in defensive mode, locking itself down as Morgan has a determined look inside his own.

“Well you seem to be hiding something from us and I would like to know what that is?” His questioning is dangerous, he steps closer to you. The rest of the room falls quiet, your eyes burning into his.

“How about, none of your damn business Morgan”

“It is my business when you drag us into it” He huffs back at you. “Just tell us what you're hiding” He steps closer, his breath lingering on your skin.

“Back the fuck up Derek” Your voice is lower, and full of danger. You can feel yourself about to snap and if you do, you don’t think you will be able to stop.

“We barely know you, so why don’t you just tell us what the hell is going on” Derek demands to know “What is wrong with you (Y/n)?” His hand raises up, and before you can process what is happening. Bam. Your fist collides with his mouth and you see red as he stumbles backwards. You follow him, a low growl leaves you as you punch him again, this time aiming for his eyes. He manages to block, trying to hold you back, but you don’t stop trying to get a blow on him. You can hear voices all around you but you can’t hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Soon there are arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you away from Morgan. You struggle against them trying to break free as you stare daggering at Morgan who is being confronted by three people of your team, you don’t recognize them. Soon there is another person in your way, your body tenses as you see them. They quickly place their hands on your cheeks which make you freeze, the anger vanishing from inside you. Your vision starts easing up and faces start becoming recognizable. The person who is holding your face gently, has beautiful eyes, and a soft smile.

“Your safe (Y/n)” JJ speaks softly, “Just take some breaths” You stare at her, and soon start copying her breathing. Rossi lets you go, moving towards the rest of the team as you calm down.

“Let me go JJ” Your words are as cold as ice, the numb empty look in your eyes being replaced by guilt and anger.

“Okay” She takes a breath before removing her hands and as soon as she does you bolt out the door.

~~~

You keep running once you get outside, you don’t stop, you can’t, you just can’t. Your mind is spinning and the only way you know how to get it to become quiet again, is to run. So that's what you do, you run. The sun is already set so you enjoy the darkness as you run. You can’t believe you lost it and punch Morgan, but what the hell is he getting at? Now what the hell are you meant to say, what lie are you meant to produce that will cover your ass. You're not sure how long you have been running for, but you're running out of breath when you see a corner store and think oh why not. Checking you have your wallet you head inside grabbing a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes. Walking back out you open it, throwing the rubbish in the bin before lighting it and taking a long drag. Closing your eyes as you inhale it, it's been a long time since you last smoked and god does it just hit right tonight. Slowly you begin walking back to the precinct, enjoying the nicotine hit. You know you're about halfway to the precinct when you decide to check your phone after feeling it ring a few times.

Missed phone calls: Aaron Hotchner (6)

Penelope Garcia (3)

You're not sure how many smokes you have consumed already but the pack is way lighter than it used to be. You really should ring them back instead of lighting another one, but oh well you think as you bring one more to your lips. Pulling out the lighter just as a car pulls up beside you, groaning softly as you recognize it. You keep walking, not caring to look at him as he rolls the window down.

“Get in the car” Hotch yells at you, following you.

“Nope” You go to light the smoke instead when he stops the car and gets out.

“We are an hour walk from the precinct, get the hell in” Aaron doesn’t bother to hide his anger, holding himself back from grabbing that cigarette from your hand.

“Or what?”

“Or you're fired, and I’ll leave you here” He huffs angrily, seeing you weighing up your options.

“Fine” You take a long drag on your smoke before stomping it out and climbing in.

~~~

The ride back is quiet, as you stare out the window.

“How angry is everyone?” Your voice is quiet and empty. Almost empty because Aaron can detect a small trail of sadness and fear in your words.

“Morgan winded you up on purpose, he pushed you too far. That wasn’t okay what either of you two did” Hotch ignored your question, because he knew you wouldn’t accept that fact no one is angry. No, everyone is just worried and concerned about you, something you don’t know how to spot or accept when it comes to yourself. He wishes you could just trust the team, trust him enough to let them help.

“I have a past” You pull yourself closer as you stare out the window, thinking about your next words carefully.

“You don’t have to tell me” Aaron quickly tells you softly, needing you to know there is no rush.

“And if I do want to tell you?” You glance at him quickly, and for a moment you forget he is your boss and see him in the light of your friend.

“Then I'm here to listen” He smiles lightly at you. You nod quickly looking back out the window, and then slowly you move your hand towards him, which he happily takes sliding his fingers between yours.

“I was abused growing up, no one cared and nobody knew, I never told anyone” You stare out the window, emotions settling down as you speak. “This case brings back memories I never wanted to relieve back up, I have to find these people so that we can save these kids” Your voice is sweet as you speak, this is a side no one but Aaron ever gets to see.

“And we will get them and we will get them help” Aaron smiles weakly as he pulls up. “But once this case is over we need to get you some help too, okay?” His thumb slides over your hand as you glance at him. If only he knew that nothing on earth can help you, and at the end of this case you don’t think you will still be on this team.

“Okay” You nod forcing a small smile before pulling away and making your way inside.

~~~

You walk in quietly, followed by Aaron. The team is staring up at the tv, watching some of the latest fights. You freeze as you catch a glance of his face on the screen. You knew he was still there but the look in his eyes is killing you. He's gone, replaced by a murderous robot, his skills are fast and sharp.

“Ryan” His name slips off your tongue before you can stop it, your body tenses up as you stare at the screen and the way he gets his opponent down in one quick move. Emily pauses it as everyone's head turns to you once more. This time everyone looks at you with concern as they see the tears forming in your eyes, which you quickly push away once you let everyone get a good look.

“You know him?” Reid asks you, tilting his head as he asks you.

“Um y yeah..” You take a deep breath. “I went to school with him” It's a lie, but you know it's golden. “He went missing when he was around 15 years old, we were best friends then one day he didn't turn up to school and well” You take a deep breath as Aaron leads you to a chair, your arms shaking just a little. “He was officially determined missing a week later, his parents were absent, they didn’t care for him” That wasn’t a lie, he told you about his parents and how much they hurt him and how they were barely at home.

“Oh (Y/n)” JJ places her hand softly on the table beside your hand, not touching but showing you she is here for you. You give her a soft smile in response.

“If he’s been there this whole time it's been twelve years” Twelve years, he is never going to be the same.

“Jesus christ” Morgan groans with regret as he looks at you. “That's what you were hiding?”

“I had a feeling he was there.. I was just hoping I was wrong” Your voice is weak and tiredness is starting to take over. It's been almost 48 hours since you last slept.

“Now we got a lead, tomorrow we get Garcia to look into him but let's call it a night it's late we all need sleep” Hotch states, everyone nodding in agreement including you as you stare at Ryan's face on the screen. That's all your fault.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x male!reader #aaron hotcher dark fic #aaron hotcher fic #bau x reader #bau x male reader

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wolfjackle-creates · 6 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL

So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)

So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.

I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!

In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.

While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.

Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.

Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.

Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.

Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.

An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”

Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”

Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”

Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”

Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”

“Realms?” asked Tim.

“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”

“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”

Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.

With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.

Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”

Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.

Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.

After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.

“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”

Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.

“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.

Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”

“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.

Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”

“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”

Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”

“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”

Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”

Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”

“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”

Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”

But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”

“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”

“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”

Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”

Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”

Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”

“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”

“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”

Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”

“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, food time.”

“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.

“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.

Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”

Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”

-----

And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)

I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.

Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.

#dpxdc #bring me home #my writing #i cant believe i've finally got to the end #i've really enjoyed writing this arc #even if parts of it were challenging #its been a fantastic journey #it's been a year #how wild #12 months #365 days #and i'm thrilled #thank you for following me on this journey #you've all made it completely worth it

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currentlylivingonaprayer · 3 months

Text

my top favorite kimchay fanfics

In no particular order

(Even though nobody asked)

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40707996

dancing with our hands tied by MajorinMonster

After Chay gets jumped by a rival mafia gang he decides he needs a reputation so people won't touch him again. Kim is just there, trying to get back into chays good books.

9/10 recommend

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3061830

The idiots & idioms series by snickerdoodlles

Chay steals kims official wik account and post absolute unhinged things. Kim does nothing to stop him.

A must read for giggles

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45252880

Five Minutes by littlemisslawyer

Chays is a doctor and has been sent out of Thailand for many years. The day he comes back and wants nothing more than to take a break from work Kim has the audacity to get shot right in front of him.

Lots of cussing and chay calling kim 'pretty boy' and 'asshole/bastard'. Perfect

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43953225

Idolistic by ditchlilly

Wik centric fic. Kim likes to post false information of himself from a side account and chay somehow know what of the things he says are true or false. Kim gets suspicious and tries to find out who this boy is.

Lots of TENSION. And kittens. I absolutely love this one. Stayed awake till 3 am giggling so much I thought I would wake my family up. A must read. Definitely in my top 2.

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50830555

Progression by Azile (WitnessMarks)

Porchay trains to becomes stronger after their break up, kim, meanwhile, doesn't handel it well and then gets kidnapped. Chay is one of the people to come to his rescue. Kim comes back quite damaged and chay is one of the only people he feels really comfortable being around. Both of them are confronted with their still existing feelings for the other.

absolute masterpiece. Read in one sitting, even though it's still updating. Can only recommend. This story is batteling with Idolistic for first place.

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3489094

The KIM IS SO LOVED series by wayupthere

No comment. Read the tags, you'll know what it's about.

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45749062

Idle Talk by Iamabudgie

After someone posts a blind item on a gossip site, Kim is forced to confront something he has been delaying for months.

Absolutely amazing. Much deeper plot than you think when you first start it. Updates are months apart, but they deliver every time. Definitely in my top 3.

Edit:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52988125

I Fell for You by @liesineyes

Kims family treats him like absolute shit. Chay and Porsche just want to find out out why, while also planning to show Kim real family love.

Love this story. Not many chapters yet, but beautiful and makes me sad and happy at the same time.

Edit edit:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52593382

BREAKING NEWS by Pens

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48575617

Back on the Beat by Pens

It's kimchay works, with the most beautiful fanart I've ever seen and it makes my cheeks ache form smiling.

Also check out their tumbler account @shou-jpeg for more kimchay content.

and of course the overall classics like an elegant mechanism by Laughsalot3412, or meet me where the light greets the dark by froginthesun.

I know some of these authors are here on tumbler, but I habe no idea how to tag them in a post, so I will tag them in the comments. Please tell me if I forgot someone. Check out their accounts too.

Also, if you have a recommendation, I'm open for them.

#kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #kinnporche the series #kinnporsche the series #Kimchay fanfic #Kimchay fanfic recommendations #fanfic rec #ao3

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thegreatandpowerfulversy · 3 months

Text

It's Worm liveblogging time! About time I finally got around to actually reading it and not just letting the wormposts flow over me and deposit information via osmosis.

I started this morning and have read through the end of Arc 2 so far, so this isn't quite liveblogging from the beginning, but I can summarize the thoughts I would have posted had I decided to do this earlier.

Taylor apparently already has her powers from the start? I honestly thought the story began before her trigger event. Seems like it's only a few months after though, she's new to it all. I guess we see the background in an interlude later.

Also, wow, I thought my experience of high school as a nerdy trans girl was bad, but goddamn. I'm a little surprised Taylor hasn't murdered any of her bullies yet. Maybe later.

Spiders on his dick! What a unique, one-time event that surely will never even remotely happen again.

It took me an embarrassingly long time to remember who Regent was. You guys don't talk about him much.

Is Armsmaster trans or something? Probably not according to Wildbow, but since when is he a reliable source anyway. Trans according to post osmosis is good enough.

Dad :(

Taylor really does have a lot more self-control in the beginning than I expected.

At least she has some basic opsec knowledge and goes to the public library to make contact. Not that it helps against a Thinker, but it's the right idea.

The Undersiders have a boss? Why do I get the feeling that the boss won't be lasting very long...

There is no way that Lisa doesn't know exactly why Taylor is here. I guess she's having fun playing with her? Or maybe she also sees the next layer too and knows Taylor is possible to turn to be a villain for real.

...You know, as someone who gets a majority of her worm knowledge from an avid Taylor/Rachel shipper, reading the actual start of Worm is bizarre. Rachel does not make a good first impression here. I understand the smugbugs much better at the moment.

Friends :)

I do not like Victoria Dallon. Sure, punch Nazis, but that's a bit beyond punching.

I really do not like Victoria Dallon. Not just police brutality, but also blatantly using cult manipulation tactics on her sister, and trying to amplify that with her aura? Come on, Amy, we've got to get you out of there.

That's it so far! I imagine the arcs get significantly longer as the story goes on; they'd kind of have to to reach the "6.5 times as long as my own longest fic" mark that I've heard about. As a writer, that's a phenomenon I know all too well.

Anyway, I'm having a good time so far, and I can't wait to keep reading! I've been warned of some spots later that I will have to skip over, but I can deal with a few dick-spiders for now.

#worm #wormblr #worm liveblogging

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aziraphales-library · 14 days

Note

Heyy, do you have any recommendations of fanfics named after Hozier's (our lord and savior) songs? Especially more recent ones since both season 2 and his new album were released relatively close.

Thank you very much, your work is amazing!!!

There are... so many. We're previously recommended some fics inspired by Hozier here. Here are some series two Hozier fics...

no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to you) by AK_Qhyrstol (T)

Keep driving, keep driving… He’d been holding his breath for hours, trying not to let the lump in his throat and the burn in his eyes win. His lips were pursed and tight, desperately holding back the sobs screaming in his lungs. Where could he even go? There wasn’t anywhere for him to go. -- Or: After Aziraphale leaves Earth for Heaven, Crowley gets in the Bentley and drives, and drives, and drives...

The Choiceless Hope in Grief (That Drove Him Underground) by aac0577 (NR)

Post-Breakup, Muriel and Crowley talk. Aziraphale and Crowley do too.

It's More the Being Unknown by sam_rvb (G)

The last few months have been a bit of a blur for Crowley, who has been trying to figure out what to do with himself since Aziraphale left him for Heaven. He's taken up residence in the bookshop alongside Muriel, who finds a new room to explore and asks Crowley if it's okay for them to read the newly discovered books within.

from eden by tlsonetwothree (G)

In the wake of Aziraphale’s destruction of Crowley’s heart, there is a certain solace he finds in the Earth they once shared. The demon takes a road trip to a cottage in the South Downs, where he tries to pick up the pieces of his heart and soul, both of which left when his world did.

The fear in its eyes, Gone out in an instant. Your tear caught the light, The Earth from a distance. by bl0rb0 (T)

Aziraphale has never seen Crowley cry. He’s been there in the rare moments the man-shaped being has done so, but Crowley always turns away or flees somewhere unknown. Aziraphale doesn't know that a piece of the Starmaker resides in Crowley, in the form of his tears. Crowley’s tears are filled with Holy Water and every time he cries, his tears make themselves known on his cheeks as a form of scars and burns. When Aziraphale leaves to heaven, Crowley hides in his beloved Bently to cry his sorrows away. He hoped it would be a short cry, one that goes just as quickly as it came and then he can return to his sarcastic and bitter self. But years go by and Crowley’s cheeks and hands have scarred over and he refuses to come out of hiding until a lighthearted and once naive angel pulls him out.

Don't Fall Away From Me by dream_animal (NR)

“Ok…” Crowley ran a hand through his hair. “Ok, ok, so - we need a plan. And to do that, we need information, yeah?” “Right,” nodded Muriel, enthusiastically. “Right,” said Crowley. “I suspect it will be a bit more difficult for me to just waltz through Heaven this time, so you’re going to need to—” he cut off with a gasp, like he’d been punched in the gut, and inhaled sharply. “What—" Muriel felt it a moment later, unbidden tears spilling from their eyes. A great despair. A wave of agony and anguish. A cosmic imbalance, ripping across the ethereal plane. Angels and demons alike shuddered under the weight of unbearable grief. The universe wept. It was a feeling that had not been felt for millennia. Crowley dropped to his knees. Muriel turned to him, horrified. “It- it’s…” An angel had Fallen. In which Crowley deals with life post-Aziraphale, and Aziraphale deals with the consequences of his decisions. Can they pick up the pieces in time to save the world, again?

Heaven isn't built to house a love like you and I by ItsScottiesStark (T)

They did it. They stopped Armageddon. They survived. This was it, the first time they were actually free to finally figure out what their side entailed. Aziraphale is a being of love. Always has been. And now, all the love he has for Crowley is free to flow from the edge of his fingertips to the demon's, in a gesture that could only mean one thing; I'm with you. I'm here. As much as his hands itch to reach out for the love of his existence, his words seem to fail him, time and time again. He knows Crowley deserves more than gentle hand holding and forehead kisses in the dark. He aches to scream his love from the top of his lungs, for the whole world to hear. And the demon knows it. And he waits. Because he'll wait forever for Aziraphale. Because he knows they are meant to be one. We take a peak into Aziraphale and Crowley's "peaceful, fragile existence" they slowly carve out for themselves after Armage-not. We get to see Aziraphale slowly but surely reach out for the demon time and time again, bringing them closer than ever. Until Jim happens. And it all goes to shit.

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #inspired by hozier #mod d

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taetaespeaches · 1 year

Text

“When the hell did I do this?”

jungkook x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.3K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s just a dumb little thing about Jungkook discovering he left a few ‘marks’ on Holly’s neck. He helps to cover them but not without being flirty and annoying. Also this features references to “I don’t actually dream of sexy vampires” which is shockingly still stupider than this current fic lmao. It’s not necessary to read that other fic to read this one but I hope for those of you who have read it, it’s a fun little callback. Anyways! Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy :))

p.s. Happy birthday, @holdinbacksecrets! Here’s some dream boy for you. I love you so much, pal. I hope you enjoy! 🧡

The moment Jungkook walked into the bathroom and appeared in the mirror behind you, you sighed harshly and shot his reflection a glare. “What?” He asked, his eyes wide in confusion.

“You’re a menace,” you accused, ignoring how cute he looked with those damn doe eyes.

“What did I do?”

Pulling aside the neck of your t-shirt, you waited for him to see the red mark seared onto the skin of your collarbone. You watched as he pulled his eyebrows together, scrutinizing the small blemish in the mirror, having to walk closer to you to figure out what it was that you were showing him. His eyes finally popped open even bigger, a true deer in the headlights, as he bit back a smile while his gaze bounced between yours and the hickey.

“Menace,” you again scolded, grabbing the liquid foundation as a giggle escaped his lips. Guiltily, Jungkook wrapped his arms around you from behind, nudging the side of your jaw with his nose.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled, peering up at you through the mirror. “In my defense-”

“Don’t.”

“You did enjoy it!”

“I can’t go out like this!”

“But you did,” he defended himself further.

“That’s besides the point,” you whined, glaring at him in the mirror. “Dude, look,” you extended your neck and pointed to the side of it.

“Holy shit,” he giggled, his eyes popping wide open as he ran his thumb over a second red mark. In protest of his amusement, you nudged him in the abdomen with your elbow as you bit back a grin of your own. “You know, I have a solution for this.”

“Don’t tell me to not go-”

“You could just not go out,” he spoke over you with a bratty smile planted on his pretty face. You had planned a night out with friends, and knowing those girls they would never let you live down having not one but two hickeys on your goddamn neck. You could practically hear their vampire comments now, especially after Jimin and his girlfriend caught you and Jungkook all sparkly following your post-photobook Twilight joke. The girl had of course told Yoongi and Taehyung’s girlfriend, and you refused to give those two more ammo.

“Jungkook,” you whined, trying to push him away from you, only for the man to tighten his arms around you.

“Wait, wait, ok, let me help. Ok? I can fix this,” he informed you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Look at me, baby. I’m the golden maknae,” he boasted proudly. “I can do anything, I got you.”

Turning around and shooting him a skeptical glance, you stared into his bambi eyes that would have looked innocent enough if you had been naive to his innate mischievous nature. Sighing, you handed over the makeup. “I don’t trust you,” you remarked, earning a wide victorious smile from Jungkook.

“Yeah, yeah, sit here and let me get to work,” he directed you, helping to lift yourself onto the counter. Planting himself between the v of your legs, he shook the foundation bottle. “I got you, baby.”

It had been several minutes since the man got to work, and you were honestly having too much fun watching his round eyes focus on the job as he repeated the dabbing motion of the makeup blender against your neck. Lost in the task, he mindlessly hummed the post-chorus of Beyonce’s Cuff It, repeatedly.

Holding back a smile, you ran a hand through his fringe, breaking his focus on your neck so his gaze met yours. “Cause I feel like falling in love,” you quietly sang, grinning when a smile cracked his stern expression, followed by a deep sigh. “How’s it going?”

When he huffed in frustration, you giggled at his expense, and well, your own expense. “Why is makeup so hard?” He groaned. Golden maknae, my ass, you thought as Jungkook stepped back and looked at his work with a frown line etched between his eyebrows. “I think this one is done though.”

“This would not be an issue,” you started, Jungkook already trying to shush you by pushing a finger against your lips. Dodging his hand, you continued, “if you could control your-”

“You liked it,” he said again, cutting you off as he enunciated the words deliberately.

“I have that song stuck in my head now,” you whined teasingly, changing the subject and making Jungkook smile cutely at you. “We gon’ fuck up the night,” you sang, Jungkook doing a little shoulder dance in response to you. “Bet you you’ll see far, bet you you’ll see stars, bet you you’ll ele-” you continued until Jungkook cut you off by kissing you suddenly, his lips gentle but needy. When he opened his mouth against yours, a soft moan escaped from your throat, making a smile curve on Jungkook’s lips.

You threaded your fingers through the strands of hair at the back of his head and tugged in a teasing manner, triggering Jungkook to trail his lips down to your jaw. His touches went lower down your neck where he nipped at the skin lightly. It was then that you realized what he was doing, gasping and shoving him off of you, only for him to look up at you with a bratty grin.

“You’re an absolute pest,” you complained through a giggle, smiling at his teasing. “Knock it off,” you whined, Jungkook laughing in amusement at his own action.

“I’m practically a pro at this,” he stared at your collarbone.

“That does not mean you should leave more,” you giggled, shoving at his shoulder as he smiled.

“Now granted, it’s not totally invisible but…” he trailed off, cocking his head to the side as he inspected his work. “If the room is dark.”

Rolling your eyes, you hopped off the counter and turned to look at the mark in the mirror. Surprisingly, it did seem to be mostly covered, only visible if someone was really gawking at you. Jungkook stepped behind you once again, his hands dragging down your forearms that hung by your sides. His fingers traced the bones of your wrists before they slid over your palms and interlaced with your own fingers, holding your hands by your hips. He slotted his chin over your shoulder, his doe eyes staring at your reflections.

“I did good, right?” He asked, seeking praise for a job well done.

“Shockingly,” you joked with a small smile. “Just one more to go.”

Groaning, he spun you around so you faced him yet again, abandoning your reflection so you could appreciate each other’s images in the flesh. He dropped your hands, allowing you to settle them on his shoulders as he placed his palms to the sides of your waist.

Dipping his head, he planted kisses down your throat once again, making you smile as you pretended to protest his affection. “Jungkook,” you warned while he chuckled into his soft pecks, the vibrations from your voice and his laughter meeting on his lips in gleeful love-filled buzz. “I swear to god if you leave a single mark.”

“I won’t,” he whispered against your skin, his teeth barely nudging against you as he smiled. Lifting one hand between you, he dragged down the neck of the baggy shirt you wore with one finger, revealing more and more of your chest. His lips trailed after the digit, leaving soft sweet kisses to your warm skin. Pulling away from you for a moment, he gazed at the newly exposed flesh until his eyes popped wide open, his jaw dropping slightly.

“What the-” he started, dropping off as he stared at you. Pulling your chin towards your chest, you peered down at yourself just as Jungkook let out a breathy chuckle mixed with a scoff. “When the hell did I do this?” He asked, a hint of a smile appearing on his mouth as he gawked at the red mark on the top of your breast, just to the left of your sternum.

Gasping in realization, you turned toward the mirror yet again and examined the mark in disbelief. “Fucking hell, Jungkook, my dress has a scoop neck.” Watching you cluelessly in the mirror, he waited for you to elaborate on what exactly that meant. “This is gonna show,” you bit back a smile, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of amusing you. “This affects you too, those girls are relentless.”

Sighing, he ducked his head toward the floor for a moment before grabbing the makeup off the counter. “Alright,” he exhaled, spinning you toward him once more. “Let’s get it.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts reactions #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fics #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfics #jungkook drabble #bts drabbles

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 2 months

Text

Electric Love - Full Chapters

Want early chapters? Read on Ao3!

Chapter 1: Not What I Expected

Notes: Support me by reading on Ao3! Kudos and comments help motivate me to see multi-chapter fics through to the end! I'll be posting announcements for the updates here. Chapters will come out on Ao3 BEFORE tumblr.

Some shit in this will probably be really OOC, but it's fanfiction so who cares? Enjoy!

Word Count: 6090

It was a day in hell like any other. Flashing cameras, idiots who came to Vox with questions below his caliber, the whole works. The overlord was half tempted to cancel any appointments he had after the current debut he was waiting to go on stage for. The only thing he wanted was to go home and eat an obscene amount of junk food while he zoned out to reruns of one of the shitty soap operas that ran on one of his channels.

He could hear the crowd of anxious paparazzi and ass-kissers just past the stage as he pocketed his phone with a deep sigh. Ignoring the concerned crewman who signaled it was time for him to go on stage, Vox grit his teeth and stepped onto the stage, immediately adopting an entirely different persona with a practiced smile.

Cameras flashed and the crowd got louder as people cheered, shoved each other out of the way and paparazzi rapidly fired questions at him with microphones pointed his way. Vox resisted the urge to roll his eyes. You’d think that any experienced reporter with half a brain cell would know the chances of getting a response to such behavior was zero to none, and yet he was so familiar with the approach that it was boring.

Despite his disdain, Vox waved and grinned proudly as he stepped up to a podium in front of a large screen. "Hello my loyal audience and fans,” he speaks with a clear and confident tone. “Today we at VoxTech have quite the exciting announcement to make. For too long, we have been limited to regular television and radio media, well no more! Introducing VoxTube, the new innovative way to stream content and enjoy it at any time.." the crowd cheered and whistled louder at the sound of the word 'streaming' and then they all gasped at once during the reveal.

Vox paused to dramatically look away from the crowd for a moment, his eyebrows arching and the corner of his mouth curling up slightly, before looking back towards the crowd again with a smug grin on his face. "And now.. for the moment you've all been waiting for... the grand reveal!" Vox said as the crowd grew even louder with excitement.

Just as the screen behind him shifted to reveal the new platform, the screen flickered before showing a logo that was very much not his. In fact, it was the logo of the damned rival company that had been a thorn in his side for the past few months. “Oh for fucks, sake, not this again,” he muttered as he looked to the side to see his production crew scrambling behind the scenes to shut down the takeover.

The large screen was supposed to be demoing the “new” platform that was really just a rehashed regurgitation of an older platform. This was supposed to be just a quick cash grab, but now it was just a problem. Vox glared at the stupid halo logo as an unfamiliar, but jovial voice seeped through his speakers like a virus.

"Tired of being controlled? Tired of not being about to tell if your information is being leaked or if VoxTech is brainwashing you?" The voice asked as it revealed distasteful footage of mindless sinners in front of VoxTech products. "Then try Eternal Entertainment. Your anti-Vox streaming and video platform, completely free of VoxTech networks. Take back control of your experience!"

The crowd was silent as the screen played a jingle before going dark. It took all the self-restraint Vox had not to glitch out on the stage when he knew the cameras were still rolling. Immediately, the crowd had their phones out, downloading the new app. Reporter cameras were flashing as sinners got as close to the stage as they could. Microphones were shoved in Vox's direction as a dozen voices asked him about the new competition.

"Ah-ah-ah... Now, let's not be so hasty, hmm?” Vox turned to the crowd with a strained grin. “This so-called 'Eternal Entertainment' is merely slander propaganda! There’s no history, nor a face to the name of this company. There’s nothing to trust! At VoxTech, we care about users' safety and provide hell-wide coverage that this ‘competition’ simply can’t beat." Vox said, trying to convince the crowd that it was a mistake to download the rival platform.

"What about the rumors of Vox programs being coded with hypnotic influence?” A reporter asked as they shoved down another. “This new rival platform promises protection from the threat of corporate dating mining and influence. What do you have to say about that?" A reporter asked.

"Hypnosis? No no, no.. that’s ridiculous!" Vox scoffed, shaking his head as he tried to sound convincing. "It’s already been proven that any rumors about such malware were nothing more than scandalous lies created to discriminate against the powers of tech demons like myself,” Vox said, theatrically shaking his head as he played the card his PR team had him prepared for at all times.

“Look, you know you can trust and rely on the wonderful VoxTech. We have been nothing but honest and transparent... unlike those frauds at 'Eternal... uhh..'," Vox tried to remember the name of the rival platform.

"Eternal Entertainment!" Someone from the crowd yelled. "It already has 300,000 downloads!"

"See? That’s nothing!” Vox laughed with a strained smile. It was something. Low numbers for a platform overall, sure. But to already have that many downloads mere minutes after the hijacked debut? Yeah no, Vox was freaking the fuck out.

The crowd continued to get louder, and Vox felt anxious electricity thrumming through his veins. Everything was getting overwhelming and he only had so much bullshit he could come up with on the spot before he started contradicting himself. He continued to smile as his magic pulsed through the nearby cables of the stage as he searched for anything he could use as an escape. He found a security camera in an alleyway a few blocks over and put on a professional grin. He just needed a closing statement, and he'd get out of there. Easy.

"Well then," Vox cleared his throat and put on his best, most charismatic smile. "I promise you all, this so-called “Eternal Entertainment”, is nothing but a passing fad! It's just a desperate attempt by the competition to try and take you away from the best hell has to offer. The very best streaming and media..." Vox's eyes narrowed as he looked around at the crowd and his smile slowly faded. "Me."

The chaotic crowd suddenly fell silent as his screen flooded their vision with red and black spirals. The sound of a pin dropping would be deafening compared to the frantic clamoring that had filled the space only moments ago as Vox flooded the crowd’s minds with VoxTech propaganda and affirmations. Once he was content, Vox used the camera to teleport to the alleyway while the crowd was left temporarily mindless.

“F̸̛̫̝̉u̴͑͜c̵̮̀ḱ̷̩̆î̴̩͘n̴̯̬͐g̷̮͌̚ piece of shit m̷̨͙͗o̴̲͎͐t̸͉̜͒h̷̙̃e̶͎̦͋r̵̟͘f̷̱̄͒û̸̥ć̵̙ͅḱ̶̡́ę̷͎̄ŕ̵̠̳ś̶̝͗,” Vox swore as his screen glitched hard the moment he was out of sight. He continued to swear and vent out his frustrations as he kicked an empty paint can on the ground next to a dumpster. Fortunately, there weren’t any sinners passing by to witness his tantrum. He wasn’t in the mood to drop another fucker until they were brain-dead.

Once Vox got the rest of his frustrations out of his system, he collected himself and sighed. He pulled out his phone and opened the app store, cringing as he saw the rival app rising in the trending downloads. He closed his eyes and focused his abilities as his power surged through the network and hunted down the source engine running the app. With so many devices accessing the network, he was able to narrow down the location quickly.

"Perfect,” Vox said with a sinister grin. “Now to take care of this problem once and for all."

Any time he’d tried to hunt down Eternal before, Vox had run into dead end after dead end. He couldn’t track down the sinners running the rival software, nor could he track down any of their host servers. The hubris of his newfound enemy would be their undoing. Anyone in the entertainment industry worth their salt knew how easily things could be exposed upon release. By loudly announcing their debut when they hijacked Vox’s presentation, the company had left themselves wide open for him to latch onto the smallest flaws and hunt them down properly.

Vox wanted to destroy the place and make sure that their platform never gained any kind of popularity or power in Hell ever again. He finally pinpointed the location where the platform was being hosted and was pleased to find it wasn't anything impressive. There was no polish. The building didn’t even look like it was any sort of office or official business. If anything, it looked uninhabited. He pulled up the address on his screen to see what he could find out about the location’s history.

The building was a rundown observatory run by some random sinner he couldn’t care less about before one of the biggest exterminations of the past century. The neighborhood the building was near had been so thoroughly gutted by the angels that the entire area was abandoned due to superstition. Well… as abandoned as any corner of the overcrowded ring of hell could be. It was the perfect place for unsavory types to hide in the shadows.

Vox scanned the exterior and his smirk only grew as he took note of the lack of any sort of security. "This will be easy..." Vox said to himself as he locked on to a computer screen he sensed inside of the building. Wanting to get the drop on his cocky competition, he teleported his way inside the old, abandoned observatory. Vox was expecting a potential fight. Maybe guns. Probably a lab full of desk jockeys. What Vox didn’t expect was for his feet to barely touch the ground before he found himself suddenly in agonizing pain. His vision was clouded over with purple smoke and he heard the sound of glass shattering as his entire body short-circuited hard from the overwhelming pain.

Vox screamed, dropping to his knees as his systems malfunctioned from the icy-hot burning sensation shooting across his skin. His face bluescreened and his vision went dark. The last thing he heard as he lost consciousness was the sound of someone swearing and footsteps rapidly approaching him as he passed out.

----

Vox gasped as he felt his systems finally reboot. He ran an internal diagnostic as he sat up to look around, dazed and disoriented. The burning sensation had faded, but his head was pounding. His vision slowly cleared as he took in his surroundings. It looked like he was in some sort of office.There was a large, overflowing bookshelf by an open window and a desk with an impressive computer set-up on it. Vials filled with purple, sparkling mist were scattered around the entire room, all with different labels on them. The space was messy, yet somehow… cozy. At least, it felt more comfortable than the majority of the sleek areas of hell he was more familiar with.

Vox looked down and quirky an eyebrow as he held up the soft blanket draped over his lap. He tried not to think of what sort of diseases could be lurking in the old couch he was lying on as he processed the situation.

"W... what..? Where am I… How did I get here...?" Vox said as he blinked a couple of times, trying to remember what had happened before he lost consciousness. "What the fuck is this place?"

"Oh shit, you're awake!" A voice startled Vox and he tossed the blanket off of him as the door to the office pushed open. He hadn’t noticed that it had been cracked open, nor had he noticed you waiting for him to wake up out in the hallway.You’d been leaning against the doorframe and scrolling through social media as you waited for him to regain consciousness.

You stepped into the room, smiling sheepishly as you pocketed your phone, “Sorry, I didn’t want you to wake up alone and be confused, but it also felt weird to just sit in here. How are you feeling?”

Vox didn't know what to expect when it came to his new rival, but he couldn't have imagined you. Hell was full of sinners of all shapes and sizes. Vox had seen some crazy shit, but he’d never seen someone as… soft as you. You weren’t dressed to the nines or in some wild costume like most. Instead, you were just wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie with your hair pulled back in a messy bun. You looked like a burnt-out college student rather than a sinner trapped in hell.

“You know,” you smirk. “I may not have been the one running the campaign against you, but you may have wanted to take that whole anti-Vox thing a bit more seriously before just barging in here.”

"You're... the owner of the rival platform..?" Vox said as his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes and no," you cringe. "Normally, I’d be chasing you out of here with a broomstick, but I might have royally fucked up and have no idea what I’m doing," you admit.

“What?” Vox asked flatly. He had been expecting tech bro assholes who would monologue at him in an attempt to piss him off. He’d been expecting the run-of-the-mill hellish power-hungry welcome he’d come to love tearing to shreds any time someone was stupid enough to try to overthrow him. He expected literally anything else but this.

“It… would probably be easier to just show you,” You sigh as you walk over to your computer and wake up the idle screen.

Vox stood from the couch and crossed the small office to look at the screen. It revealed that millions of sinners had already made accounts on Eternal Entertainment’s new platform, and a decent amount of accounts had already started uploading content. To say it was successful would be an understatement.

"Millions..." Vox muttered under his breath, feeling more and more threatened by the platform as he saw the success it was already having. "How the hell did you manage to pull this off?"

You chuckle, rubbing the back of your head nervously. "Yeah, uh, about that... I don't... know."

"You don't k̴n̷o̵w̵?̴" Vox flipped on you with a spark. His eye twitched as he tried to pick apart your game. Were you bragging? Were you about to threaten him? Were you a fucking idiot?

"Excuse, the fuck, me?” Vox growled as he grabbed your hoodie and pulled you forward. “Do you mean to tell me this was just some fucking pet project or some shit?"

"Yes and no?," you cringed as Vox made it clear how fed up he was getting with that answer.

Normally, you wouldn’t let anyone yank you around, but you’d dug yourself into some pretty deep shit. The guilt that came with that kept you complicit for the time being, but you still pushed his hand off of you.

"The truth is, I… made the platform,” you admit sheepishly. You’re quick to defend yourself as you see Vox’s expression fill with rage. “But I’m not the one who released it and I don’t work for Eternal. I swear!”

“You realize how fucking fake that sounds, right?” Vox growled as he felt his claws itch with the desire to rip you apart.

“Yup,” you swallow. “I understand the shit sandwich I landed myself in very much, Mr. Big Scary Evil Overlord Sir.”

“But,” you say as you pull back your desk chair and pull up your browser. “I have proof. If you don’t believe me after you look at it, you can kick my ass to your heart’s content. But I think you’ll quickly realize I do not know what the fuck I’m doing and I couldn’t have made this shit the way you’re thinking I did, even if I tried.”

Vox squinted at you with distrust as he looked between you and the chair. He grabbed the back of the offending furniture far tighter than was necessary and yanked it out of your hand as he sat down with a grumble.

He started scrolling through the history of your browser and clicked through the tabs you’d left open for him. It looked like you had signed up for some sort of coding workshop and had no idea what you had signed up for. What was poorly disguised as a hands-on tutorial for beginner video game coders to learn how to make mock platforms for marketing was a trap to lure in people to do Eternal’s dirty work. It was the sort of thing that would never pop up on Vox’s radar. It was obviously a scam to the trained eye and a weak attempt at throwing suckers like you under the bus.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” he said as he looked up at you incredulously.

Your face flushed and you looked away from him with an embarrassed frown as you crossed your arms. “Oh fuck off,” you grumble. “I’m broke as hell and it was a free course in an area I need to learn to make my games. It sounded too good to be true.”

“Because it was, dumbass,” Vox snorted as he shook his head and kept digging. He followed the data trail of the domain the workshop was hosted on and pulled up a few unrelated tabs that you hadn’t already pulled up from him so he could figure out how you’d discovered the suspicious content in the first place.

“Hey!” you gasp as you try to stop him.

“If you don’t want to end up an electrified shish kabob on the floor, you’ll let me work,” Vox said, not taking his eyes off the screen for a second as he installed some of his searching software to run in the background of your system.

You huff, watching him continue to dig through your computer before you turn on your heel and walk out. “Just don’t move or delete anything.”

Vox rolled his eyes as he continued his search. He quickly understood where your worries stemmed from. He hadn’t paid too much attention to your mention of it earlier, but it was obvious you were some sort of video game developer. There were folders filled with concept designs, dialogue chains, and amateur attempts at programming. It seemed while you thrived in the creator side of things, your tech knowledge was severely lacking. A quick invasive peek at your bank account showed that your funds were as well. You had big visions for someone with only yourself as a resource.

He paused as he opened a folder in your files that was filled with what appeared to be pictures of you and what he assumed were your friends. His eyes widened as he recognized several faces smiling innocently compared to the lewd expressions he’d seen them make in Valentino’s films. What caught his attention even more was the multiple pictures of you with Angel Dust and his little cyclops friend who had a knack for explosives.

Before he could dig any further into your personal life, several windows popped up to let him know the diagnostics had finished running the background.

Vox’s leg started to bounce with anxious energy as the reports from the programs he’d run earlier started to flood in. He immediately followed the trail of information and found several other websites connecting to Eternal that eventually led him to a secluded forum with all sorts of shady shit. He opened several threads that related to himself and the other Vees and inhaled sharply as he started to read through everything.

"Anti-VoxTech underground network…?" Vox whispered aloud. An anxious thrum of energy ran through him as he tried not to freak out. What if this person used the platform to spread propaganda against him or to leak information from his networks? What if this person was trying to destroy him from the inside out? His paranoia began to intensify and he felt small sparks licking at his skin when suddenly, a coffee mug was thrust in front of his face.

He looks up at you as you hold out one of two mugs to him. He takes it slowly from your hand as you look at him unimpressed, yet expectantly. “Thanks…?” He says slowly as he is once again thrown off by how much you didn’t match his expectations. He looks down at the liquid in his hand before looking back up at you distrustfully. For all he knew, your weirdly casual demeanor could have all been a trick. Poisoning him in the afterlife wouldn’t kill him, it’d just be a major inconvenience. Even so, he hesitated.

“Oh for fucks sake,” you roll your eyes as you realize why he was hesitating. You stick your pinky in his cup and pop it in your mouth to show him it was safe. “It’s just hot chocolate,” you huff before you take a sip from your own mug. “I was going to make one before you just zapped your ass in here and it felt rude to only make one for myself.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked the bewildered overlord over. “Shit, but your face… Can you even…? Wait no, that’s also rude. Fuck.”

Vox burst out laughing as you verbally tripped over yourself. Yeah no. There was no evil ploy here. You were just a weirdly endearing dumbass.

“I can drink,” Vox grinned as he finally lifted the cup to his lips. His eyes widened as he took in the unexpected taste. While he could eat and drink, he unfortunately had lost his sense of smell with his afterlife form. He wasn’t expecting the slightly sour tinge of raspberry syrup that mixed with the more standard flavor of the drink.

You watch him curiously and his eyes lock onto yours in an instant. Your face flushes and you turn away as you try to not-so-smoothly play over the fact that you had been trying to see how his mouth worked. “S-So, did you find anything?”

Vox sighed and set his mug down as he turned his attention back to your computer. “Yes, actually. Surprisingly enough, I’ve found more on your very shitty and outdated computer than my team has in the past six months.”

He ignores your offended protests about the quality of your setup as he looks through one of the forums. He ignores the way you lean into his personal space as you look over his shoulder and read the comments yourself.

“I just don’t get why there’s this large of an interest in working around my products,” Vox grumbled as the two of you read through the conversations.

You raise an eyebrow and peer down at him. "You and the Vee's don't exactly have the best rep with lower-class sinners. It may be hard for a big powerful dude like you to comprehend, but believe it or not, some people like their privacy."

Vox frowned as he begrudgingly sipped on his drink. He would never admit out loud how much it was soothing his nerves. “We’re in hell,” he reasoned. “Surely dating mining which pornos the average sinner watches to increase ratings and production quality isn’t the top concern these idiots have.”

You roll your eyes and sigh as you sit on the edge of your desk. Your hips carelessly pushed some things back, but you paid it no mind. “It goes deeper than that and you know it. Hell, I know it and I think this entire experience has proven how much of this shit flies over my head.”

Vox’s eyes drift to the vial you bumped with your hip and he pauses as he considers just how harmless you really were. While it was clear you weren’t the most program-savvy, Vox hadn’t forgotten the abrupt welcome he’d gotten when he tried to sneak in. Whatever that mist he’d been enveloped in was bottled and stashed all over the place. He still had more digging to do.

Sensing the shift in Vox’s attitude, your eyes follow his gaze and you cringe as you tuck the vial out of sight.

“So you’re not a complete idiot then,” Vox said as he placed his empty mug on the table and stood over you.

“That’s different,” you mutter as you shrink in on yourself and avoid looking him in the eye.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Vox hummed as his eyes sharply searched your features like a shark drawn to blood in the water.

His clawed fingers wrap around your jaw and he slowly makes you turn towards him. His grip was firm and the sharp edges threatened to break skin, but he was also somewhat gentle, after all, you had gotten him this far. A looming threat if you suddenly decided to stop cooperating.

“You deleted your visits to those forums in your browser history before you let me access your computer,” Vox said slowly as he watched your every expression carefully. You were avoiding his eyes, which meant you knew what he was capable of. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say slowly as you try to keep your breathing even. You couldn’t afford to panic. “I probably just accidentally cleared it when I was wiping my cache or something. Aren’t you supposed to do that every now and then, or something?”

Vox quirked an eyebrow, looking completely unimpressed. “You’re not a good liar.”

“Oh fuck off,” you frown as you look up at him without thinking.

Vox grins and his eyes immediately spiral as he tries to pull you under his spell. You gasp and for a moment he thinks he has you… only for the spirals not to reflect back at him from your own eyes.

“What…?” Vox blinks as his grip on you loosens.

You smack his hand away and dive out from under him as you try to get away. Vox growls, whipping around and grabbing your arm before you can slip out of the office. You let out a startled yelp as he slams you against the wall and twists your arm behind your back.

“What the hell is going on? Who are you, really?” he interrogates as he twists your arm harder.

It didn’t make any sense. You were a walking contradiction. He genuinely didn’t sense any malice directed at him from you. Your search history barely skimmed anything relating to him. If anything, you had done more research on Velvette and Valentino, which he had to admit, in any other scenario may have bruised his ego a hair. You accidentally helped a rival company launch an attack against him and let him search your system without any hesitation, yet the second he locked in on those vials, you changed your tune completely.

Not only that, but you were somehow able to resist his hypnosis. He’d seen the faintest flash of connection in your eyes that told him you weren’t immune. Yet you had somehow managed to slip out of the hold he’d tried to cast over you within seconds.

“Let me go, asshole!” You shouted as you tried to slip out of his grasp. You hiss in pain as his sharp claws dig into your arm and draw blood.

“I don’t think so,” Vox growled as he tightened his grip and drew more blood. “What the hell is in those vials? And why were you on those forums in the first place? Tell me or I’ll rip your arm off.”

You bark out a laugh despite the fear, “With those fucking twigs? I’d like to see you tr-AH fuck! Alright alright!” You relent as he slams your head against the wall with his other hand.

Vox loosens his grip ever so slightly, but watches you like a hawk.

“Everything I’ve told you so far is true,” you start with a sigh. “I don’t know jack shit about most of your area in things, but I only found the workshop because I was on the forums.”

“And why would you be there?” Vox frowned. “You don’t have anything my company would care about on your systems. You’re a shit liar, but get any ideas of telling me it was for privacy out of your head.”

Your eyes dart and he can tell you’re trying to think of a way to weasel out of telling him the truth. Whatever it was, you really didn’t want him to know. Which meant he needed to know.

“Tell me,” Vox growled as he pressed you harder into the wall.

“V-Valentino,” you whimpered as the pain started to wear down your willpower. You weren’t exactly accustumed to this sort of experience despite your time in hell. You kept your head down as much as you could. You only dared to kick up dust for one reason and you’d done your best not to get caught for it up until now, but you had been careless.

“What?” Vox blinked as his grip relented.

“I,” you open your mouth, only to cringe. You really didn’t want to tell him, but if you double died without at least trying to pull something, it would only leave the very people you were trying to protect in deeper shit. Vox would figure it out after killing you anyways. Spilling the beans and trying to figure something out in the process was your only hope.

“The mist wasn’t mean to hurt you,” you say slowly. “I’ll talk, so fucking let go first.”

Vox watches you distrustfully, but releases your arm and steps back. He stands between you and the door, so he’s willing to play along if it means he’ll finally have the full picture.

“I don’t… pay much attention to hell’s politics,” you sigh. “I don’t care about power, I don’t care about overlords, but I do care about my friends.”

For the first time since Vox had gotten here, he saw something familiar flash in your eyes. The dark twisted bloodlust he’d seen in most sinners. “I don’t use my powers much,” you say as you walk over to your desk. “I’m not really trained to fight like most people down here. I’m cooped up in here most of the time, so it’s not like I’ve ever really had a reason to start shit.”

You pick up a vial and hold up your other hand as a small portal opens above your palm. “This is about all I can do,” you say. “I had a buddy who liked to research sinners abilities and I didn’t really care if he looked into mine.”

You had to bite down the fond smile at the memory of Baxter’s pestering. “He discovered that at low enough levels of activation, magic could be collected like a liquid or a mist with all his fancy tech shit. Again, you know how much of that flies over my head.”

Vox looked between your hands and nodded silently, watching you carefully as he waited for you to put together the pieces for him.

“Using the residue of my abilities, he tried to replicate that love potion shit you guys sell. He wanted to see if he could recreate it and then make a repellent.”

Vox’s eyes widened as he looked at the vial and it finally clicked. “It’s a repellent against Valentino’s magic.”

You wave away the miniature portal above your hand and nod with a frown. You hated every part of this, but at least he hadn’t killed you yet. “Like I said earlier, there's a high demand for slipping out under the Vee's control."

“Is that how you resisted my hypnosis as well?” Vox asked carefully.

“No,” you shake your head. “That’s something else entirely. No schemes or any fancy shit like that involved there.”

“Then why did the mist hurt me?” Vox frowned.

“Well, for starters,” you smirk at the memory. It had freaked you out pretty bad in the moment, but after the shit Vox just put you through, you kinda loved that he’d gotten his ass handed to him. “The guy I told you about was here and was trying to make a new batch. You literally teleported in the middle of us making the shit and knocked over the batch we’d been producing so it was heavily concentrated.”

“Secondly, you’re around Valentino all the time. When is that guy not blowing his slut smoke all around you?” You cross your arms.

“That…” Vox thought back to how often Valentino smoked his pipe around him. How used to seeing the pink smoke around him he’d gotten. He didn’t have a sense of smell so he was entirely immune to the effects. So much so, he had no reason to notice how it was completely seeped into his clothing and probably coating his entire body in an unnoticeable residue.

"Yup," you sigh. "If I had to take a guess, then that’s why.”

"And the reason you’d help your friend make this…” Vox trailed off as he remembered the pictures he’d found on your computer. You were friends with a lot of Valentino’s sex workers, including Angel Dust. Vox was a business partner, a friend, and sometimes a lover of Valentino. Valentino was notorious for the abuse of his sex workers. An abuser of some of your closest friends.

You frown, turning away from Vox, your body language acknowledging him as a proper enemy for the first time since he's broke in. "You get it now.”

He knew about Valentino and his history of abuse towards sex workers. He had seen his behavior first hand and knew the moth’s behavior was vile and repulsive. But the worst of it was never directed at Vox himself. Some of it, yeah, but… Vox hadn't really cared about anyone else. He had better shit to think about.

"I see…,” Vox hummed as he picked up another vial off the floor and twirled it between his claws. You really could benefit from some basic cleaning around the office. “So you’re planning on beating him at his own game." Vox said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you with a mix of suspicion and admiration. "Clever... very clever.."

You cross your arms, watching him sharply as you wait to see what he'll do about it.

"You got the information you wanted." You say flatly. He knew who was attacking him with your software now. The Eternity shit he’d found on your computer was a solid lead. However, he now knew of your efforts against Valentino. You weren’t a fighter, by any means, but you were prepared to protect yourself if you had to.

Vox's eyes narrowed as he looked at you in a new light. Your lack of personal interest in politics and the standard hell powergrabs had him intrigued. He wondered just what you’d be capable of if you did play the same game that everyone else did. It was clear you were resourceful and crafty, yet you directed those efforts towards something so… mundane.

"You’ve proved useful enough so far, and I thank you for that. Depending on your next answer, I may even let you keep your insides where they belong. So, let me ask you this..." Vox said, continuing to look at you with his eyes narrowing. "If those experiments are unrelated to my influence entirely, then how are you able to resist my hypnosis?"

Whether he meant to or not, Vox just handed you the key to your survival on a silver platter. Your eyes widen and you try to hide the excitement at the opportunity as you level your best poker face. “It’s pretty simple actually,” you say as you inspect your nails nonchalanetly. A bit too theatric, perhaps, but you were trying to play it cool. It didn’t matter that you weren’t actually succeeding.

“Hypothetically, I may or may not have discovered how to counter your hypnosis,” you hum as Vox’s eye twitched. “Hypothetically, I could sell that information or simply just post it to the Eternal forums. I’m sure everyone would love to know how not to get sucked into your marketing schemes.”

"You want to make a deal," Vox realized, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly and dead pixels flickered to life under his lip. This just got so much more interesting for him.

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