#and she said i just seemed white from my profile and the only info there was my name and a funny caption so

[hello-mojo]

Phantom of The Ministry

skip to the dotted line if you just want the story. I'm gonna put some personal info here first.

meh... I had this idea ages ago before Penny died and I quit writing... there was a lot going on back then. The troll harassing me and a bunch of other people on archive.... Eh It all snowballed on me and especially without penny to encourage me, litterally no one else wanted to read my stupid stories. I had floated this idea by her and she'd loved it. She said she couldn't wait to read it. I will miss her forever. 😢 I never even met her IRL. But I talked to her everyday. I used to tell her all my problems and she would tell me hers while we were writing back and forth. I don't have any of those fics anymore because I was hacked and had to delete the Google account where everything was saved. 😖 oof.

Well this was saved in a different place so. It's literally all I have left to remember her by because I deleted my profile on archive of our own where everything we'd done together had been published. I orphaned the stories but I honestly can't bring myself to look them up from my alternate archive reading account.

I really didn't mean to put so much about her in this but... I guess it's cathartic or whatever. I was working on this all by myself so... be warned. I struggle with grammar, punctuation and spelling particularly as the dyslexia seems to not let me remember the rules no matter how many times I look them up. I also have pacing issues and my plots always felt weak to me so. At the height of everything, I just quit. It seemed like no one was interested anyway.

I wanted to perhaps finish this for Penny or in her memory but honestly... I just don't have it in me anymore. I'm not even that into Drarry anymore. I enjoy many ships but that's neither here nor there. So... here's what I did get written on

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Phantom of the ministry.

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Ch.1 Draco’s Perspective

Draco realized, looking back, that he'd always been a somewhat vain child.  After all, what else would you call trying to crusio a boy just because he saw you crying?

Vain.  That's what Draco called it.  Perhaps prideful as well.  Neither personality trait had ever served him well.  In a way, he supposed that he had Potter to thank for opening his eyes to his own faults.  He might even be able to actually say the words to him, if he ever saw him.  Of course,  that would never happen because he didn't exist anymore.  He'd died in that bathroom, as far as most people were concerned.  

Most said that he'd deserved it.  A precious few had insisted that he hadn’t, that he wouldn't have attacked unless he had been provoked somehow.   Draco himself felt that he had started the ill fated duel and had basically deserved some sort of consequence.   However he also felt that Potter, using a spell that he didn't know, was the height of impulsive stupidity and that the 'Sectum-sempra' had been overkill.   He stared now at the ruin of his once handsome face.  The hideous twisted scars from the left edge of his nose to his left temple, the patchy bald spots where the hair had never grown back after being shaved off by the spell.  The cloudy, faded eyeball that had once been bright and vibrant, that had seen everything,  now saw almost nothing.  Draco had no idea why the spell had only struck the upper left corner of his face.  Potter's aim must have been off because they'd been chasing each other.  Otherwise he had no idea. 

With a heavy sigh he picked up the white China quarter-mask that hid the left side of his damaged face from anyone who might chance to look at him.  Not that many ever did.  In fact, there were only two people who knew of his existence.   Since Severus Snape had died in the war, that left only one person who knew he was here.  She came to his hidden potions lab and left him files full of research that needed done, potions that needed identification, other's that needed refined.  The list went on and on. 

He was a ghost, a figment of overworked employees imaginations.  Severus had brought him here after he'd been healed as much as he could be.  Draco had categorically refused to return to hogwarts or the life he had known before.  His father had always viewed him as a disappointment and after he'd been disfigured,  well he'd have been a disgrace as well, and likely would have been disowned.  

So this had been the only other option.   A friend of Severus's who worked in the department of mysteries as head unspeakable, who had owed the potions master a favor,  had arranged it. 

That had been eight years ago.  He'd never left the ministry since that day, the day Severus had brought him here and handed him over to Madeline Gery. 

She was originally from France but her parents had moved to London in the midst of the first wizarding war.  She'd worked her way to the top of the department of mysteries, a department that was only a rumor and largely off books.  She had arranged for private tutoring,  and for Draco to be able to take his exams.   She'd had the mask and wigs made to Draco’s specifications and the sketches he'd provided her with.  Brown hair, something nondescript that blended in.  His own hair was too flashy, too distinctive.   If anyone caught sight of his oh so striking platinum hair, they'd know instantly who he was.  So, wigs had been the solution.  Though, thanks largely to the numerous secret passages and hidden rooms scattered around the ministry no one ever truly saw him. 

The passages had originally been intended as an emergency escape route out of the ministry.  Near as Draco could tell, they'd been forgotten about and hadn't been accessed or utilized in any way until he'd found them. 

He now had free roam of the entire ministry.   There was a small room and a two way mirror that looked into the ministers office, there was another such set up in the head aurror's office and a few other of the department heads.  He suspected that someone had been using the passages to sus out corrupt ministry officials but obviously the program had been ended without anyone being the wiser.  Draco had let himself into the records room and the aurror department after hours and looked for any information he could find on the passages but had found nothing.   

Over the years he'd added more passages,  tunnels and access points, carefully hidden from and warded against the wondering eyes of idiot employees who were too curious for their own good.   He could go anywhere he wanted or needed too inside the ministry now.  He left notes for Madeline occasionally about his findings, particularly when he observed ministry officials taking bribes or practicing dark magics.  He always got proof first.  The employees in question were usually sacked immediately.   At least, now that Potter had won the war anyhow.   

What a relief that had been.   The first few years he'd been here, he'd had to be incredibly careful.  He'd let himself into the ministers office after hours and nicked his file, and any other proof of his existence that he could find.  With Umbridge and Fudge being loyal to the darklord,  he dare not let them find out about his existence.   He had observed though.  He'd recorded plenty of evidence of their corruption and any plans that he had observed and passed them along to Madeline who he assumed passed them to an order member.   It was the best he could do. 

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Ch. 2 Potter's Perspective

He'd killed someone.   Harry couldn't forgive himself for it.  Nor would he ever forget Draco Malfoy, or the valuable lesson that he'd learned from the horrible experience.   Never use a spell that you didn't know.   It was forever ingrained in his brain,  on his very soul.   He might have felt some sort of closure on the matter had he gotten into trouble for killing a student.   Something more than just detention with Snape for the rest of the year.  That had been bad, but hardly a fitting price for murder.  Even if accidentally.  

He was the only one who had felt that way about it.  Everyone else had said that Malfoy had gotten what he deserved.  After all he had started an unsanctioned duel, had been using dark spells, and had fired first.  Malfoy had started the chase, and continued to aggressively attack Harry.  He'd simply defended himself.  That was the official response.   Even if accurate,  it didn't feel right.  Not to Harry.  Nor, he could tell, to Narcissa Malfoy.   She looked at him with hatred now.  Hatred he deserved.   There was nothing he could do about it though.  Even after he'd found the reserection stone that Dumbledore had left him. There'd been no information anywhere on how to use it.  He'd tried to bring Draco back from the dead but it hadn't worked.  Harry had been flying blind.  He'd put away the Elder wand and the Reserection stone in a safe and heavily warded place known only to him.  He couldn't destroy them until he figured out how to right the wrong that he'd caused.  

He had no clue how he'd managed to win this stupid war.  It had seemed impossible. Without Hermione and Ron, he'd never have survived.   He knew it.  He might be a magical powerhouse but brilliant he wasn’t.  Nor was he any good at strategy.  Thankfully his friends had been very willing to help him out.   He didn’t feel worthy of such loyalty and support but he was grateful for it.  

After the bathroom incident, the minister had appointed Severus Snape as headmaster.  Zabini had somehow left the detheaters into the castle and Severus Snape had cast the killing curse on Dumbledore.  Harry had confronted him and managed to disarm him, purely by having the element of surprise and sheer dumb luck, as McGonagall would say.  Somehow they'd managed to follow through on the scavenger hunt for the horcruxs and the rest was history.    Winning hadn't made Harry feel any better though.  He and Ginny had broken up after only a couple months of a relationship post war.  It just wasn't working.  So he'd gone to work at the ministry as an aurror because what else could he do really?  He'd thought of going into quidich but the desire to fly knowing that Draco never would again,  just hadn't been there. 

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Ok that's it. All I've got other than the doc where I listed all the things from the Musical that I thought I could work with to make the story work. I'd love to know your thoughts. If anyone reads this that is. The algorithms on any platform hide me from everyone. Lol I'll never be popular I guess. So what else is new? Lmao. Oh well.

#lgbtqia #ao3 #drarry #fanfiction #draco fanfiction #harry potter #harry x draco #draco malfoy #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 16-20

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 10k

chapter 16

It was 7 am when they got the call. Y/N had barely gotten any sleep that night, Spencer was adamant that laying on the left side helps maximize blood flow. Meaning she faced the wall all night with him happily cuddled into her back. She hated it.

Between peeing 100 times a day and the constant heartburn, she couldn’t really pick the worst part about creating a human.

It fuckin’ sucked and no one thought to warn her.

She dragged herself out of bed, trying her best to do her morning routine with only one eye open. Spencer, on the other hand, seemed to bounce out of bed like he slept 12 hours. Dancing around the kitchen as he poured his coffee and took a smoothie out of the fridge for Y/N.

He fed the cat, changed the litter and even took out the garbage by the time she pulled herself from the bathroom and to her closet.

Her jeans didn’t fit, she let herself take a minute to cry out of frustration in the closet before she looked for anything presentable. The only pants she could get into were a pair of leggings, and at that point, she didn’t care anymore. She was probably going to stay back with Penelope anyway.

She threw on an FBI sweater to hide her bump from the rest of her co-workers, grabbed the rest of her shit and followed Spencer to the car. Getting in the passenger seat and immediately closing her eyes again.

“Wake me up when we’re at Quantico,” she told him. Leaning against the window, ignoring the world.

Maternity parking was the only bonus, she only had to walk 4 feet from her car to the elevator. She felt lazy, but she was allowed to.

“Hopefully,” Spencer finally spoke to her as they entered the elevator. “At the end of this week, your energy should return as your placenta is done developing. You’re the most tired right now because your organs are working 3 times harder than they’re used to.”

“I’m tired because I had nothing to cuddle with all night, but thanks for the insight,” she tried her best to be cheery.

The door dinged, opening to the rest of the team standing in the entryway. “What’s up?” Y/N asked them.

“Hotch got a call, we’ve got a weird one coming in, he’s in his office talking to someone right now,” Morgan said. He looked just as tired as Y/N.

“Are we going in?” She asked, walking past them and towards the bullpen.

She rushed through the room and waddled up the stairs, searching for a chair before she actually passed out. Everyone followed her soon after, patting her back as they walked around the table to their seats.

“Over the past few months 6 feet have washed up on different beaches along the coast of Maine,” Penelope started explaining the case while Hotch was still on the phone in his office.

“6 feet belonging to 6 different people, all incredibly hard to identify. Interpol, Europol, the RCMP and the FBI have all been in communication with each other as no one knows where the feet washed in from. International Water laws prohibit just one of us from taking jurisdiction until we identify the nationality of the victims.”

“How are we going to Identify the feet?” Prentiss asked.

“We’re currently running the DNA against missing persons along the east coast as well as anyone who recently travelled to North America by boat, so far we don’t have any matches. We do know all 6 feet are white so hopefully, hopefully,” Garcia repeated for extra magic help, “this isn’t a refugee transport gone wrong.”

“We’ve been seeing an increase of boating accidents from Syrian refugees recently,” Spencer added. “The wars in the middle east are continuing to push people from their homes in mass numbers, meaning a lot of the boats are overpacked and capsize mid extraction.”

“So we’re probably looking at someone from North America who is using their own boat to sail out and release victims,” Y/N added. “Do we have the ME reports on the 6 feet?”

“Oh, yeah,” Garcia said, flipping through papers and handing them to her.

She read it over carefully, trying to see through her new blurred vision. Another wonderful pregnancy symptom. “Normally when feet wash up on shore, they’re in shoes. If a body is lost in a boating accident or drowning, the rubber soles will always want to float to the surface. When a body is decaying in water long enough the bones will separate, and when the ankle bone goes, the feet float to the surface,” Y/N explained.

“How do you just know that?” Rossi asked.

“In Nevada, we had a lot of drownings in a man-made lake, people would get stuck at the bottom on tree roots. And every year a few feet would wash up,” she added. “I only explained that because it says in the ME report that the feet were cut with a sharp blade, all clean cuts with no shoes or socks. So someone is cutting these bodies up and bringing them out to sea, probably to use as bait for a big catch.”

“It’s weird to me that the feet are the only parts washing up?” JJ’s face was absolutely puzzled as she flipped through the files.

“Not really,” Y/N argued, “I’m more concerned with why he’d even cut the feet, to begin with. With most shark attacks they go for full limbs, if I was the unsub and I was cutting the body up for bait, I wouldn’t make the pieces so small. There isn’t enough blood or flesh on feet to entice a large fish or shark to take it.”

Rossi was tapping his fingers against the table, “Do you think he wants us to find the feet?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look good.”

Then, Hotch finally walked in. “Which 3 of you want to travel to Maine to take a look at all the findings?” Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi raised their hands, “alright, meet me on the runway in 20. The rest of you, find a way to identify the feet.”

—

She sat at her desk most of the morning, munching on a bag of animal crackers to keep her nausea at bay. JJ brought her a cold ginger ale around 11, rubbing her back for a bit while she flipped through files.

She had a doctor’s appointment during lunch that day, so she headed downtown to give blood in the hour she was permitted. Knowing that she could be late and no one would really care.

She waited in Dr. Korrapati’s room patiently, looking at her arm as she rested it on the table. Her veins were more prominent now than they had ever been in her life. JJ insured her that they would go back down but it did make her a little self-conscious.

“Hey mama,” Dr. Korrapati cheered as she walked into the room. “How are we feeling?”

“Good, tired but good.”

“Work kicking your butt?” She asked as she prepped her arm for the blood draw. “Or just the baby?”

“Having a hard time finding a comfortable sleeping position, I’m probably going to get one of those long pillow things to help,” she rambled to take her mind off what was going on with her arm.

For someone who looked at dead bodies as her job, seeing her own blood freaked her out. Dr. Korrapati noticed she was a little stressed, “how about when I’m done here we take a look at your little person?”

That piqued her interest, she sat completely still and looked away as the nicest doctor she could’ve asked for, got the test over and done with, in record-breaking time.

“Do you have any other symptoms that are bothering you?” She asked as she wrote the exact tests down in her paperwork.

“Yeah,” she struggled with the sleeve of her shirt as she tucked her arm back in. “The nausea is driving me nuts, I’m living on animal crackers and ginger ale.”

“If you eat small meals every few hours it should settle it out,” she explained. “But if it is really bothering you we can give you some anti-nausea medication.”

“I tried that, everyone keeps bringing me snacks and trying to take care of me but I don’t want anything because I’m so tired,” she ranted as she climbed onto the exam table.

“Have you tried sleeping on the other side of the bed?” She asked.

“no, why?”

Dr. Korrapati laughed, “you sleep on the left side of the bed right?”

“Yeah?” She questioned, wondering how an OB could profile so well.

“So I'm assuming your smart and overprotective boyfriend has advised you to lay on your left side like he told JJ?” She smiled. “And because you sleep on the left side of the bed already, that means you’re not cuddled into him. He’s the big spoon now and you hate it.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in her head, “oh my god?”

They laughed at the fact it was so obvious and she never clued in. “It happens all the time, you’re so in a routine that you don’t realize you can just switch sides and it’ll work.”

“You’re so smart!”

“Ready to hear and see this baby of yours?” She asked, waiting for Y/N to raise her shirt and lower her leggings to expose her lower stomach.

“Can we?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “you’re in week 9, so you’re exiting the embryo stage and moving towards the fetal stage. We’ll be able to see the fetus and hear the heartbeat.”

“Can I record it for Spencer?” She asked, not wanting him to miss it.

“I’ll do you one better and put it on a disk for you.”

Just like that, she was smothering her stomach in warm jelly. Spreading it around with the ultrasound wand before she began to search for them. Pressing in slightly on her right side, she heard her own heartbeat whooshing. The closer she got to the centre, the more they heard the second.

Her baby’s heartbeat was strong. She saw them on the monitor, they had changed from being a jellybean to actually looking like a person. 4 strong limbs were stretching and moving, growing faster than she thought possible.

“That’s insane?” She was in such awe of it, “when will I feel the kicking and stuff?”

“In a few more months, they’re only the size of a green olive. You’ll probably feel it around Christmas?” She guessed. “You’ll be 16 weeks around then.”

“Wow okay,” she was just astounded by the magic of growing a child, she felt like absolute shit but it all made sense at that moment. In just a week, muscles and limbs formed and her baby grew the ability to self-soothe in the womb. Growing 10 fingers and toes that they already knew how to put in their mouth.

She cleaned the gel off Y/N’s stomach and began exporting the files for her. “So, I will call you when the results are in, and I can just email you guys a copy and go over it with you on the phone when you’re free? I know your job is unpredictable?”

“That would be perfect, thank you. We’re working on an international case right now so for all I know I’ll be in Ireland next week,” She laughed.

“Of course, take care of yourself make sure you’re taking all the vitamins and having 8 cups of clear fluids a day, you have to stay hydrated.” Dr. Korrapati handed her the disk in a sleeve as well as her contact card.

“Yes ma’am, I can’t wait to hear from you,” she smiled before leaving the office.

—

Y/N walked back into the BAU around 1:15, wandering down the hall to Penelope’s office to get a rundown of what she missed.

Spencer and JJ had the same idea, all turning towards the door as Y/N walked in, “hey.”

“How was it?” Spencer asked softly, beckoning her to his lap.

She sat down on him softly, “I got a DVD copy of the ultrasound.” She waved the disk around. “But, we can’t watch it until I get a rundown on what we know so far.”

“I hate how professional you are sometimes,” Penelope huffed. “Luckily, it is very important.”

“We matched a tattoo on one of the feet to a missing person’s case in Nova Scotia. So we focused our efforts on missing person’s cases who fit the same features and backgrounds as her,” JJ explained.

“Okay cool, who was she?”

“Andrea Carlton, 18. She was hitchhiking, apparently wanting to run away to meet her boyfriend in Newfoundland. I traced her transactions before she disappeared and it looks like she bought a ferry ticket, however, there are no reports of her ever getting on it,” Penelope added. “So I’ve looked into other people from Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, who went missing hitchhiking or after booking a ferry ticket.”

“Smart, how many matches did we get?”

“5,” She laughed.

“You’re kidding?”

They all shook their heads, “nope. And we were able to match all the feet to them.”

Y/N handed the ultrasound video over to Penelope. “Your reward.”

She snatched it from her hands so fast, taking it out of the packaging and shoving it in her CD port. Loading the file within seconds.

She watched Spencer’s face the whole time. Already having seen the footage herself, knowing the real show would be his reaction.

He was so mesmerized, his eyes blown up in awe as tears welled. His grip on her leg was more intense, he was squeezing along to the beat of the baby’s heart, absentmindedly. He shook his head in disbelief, that was his baby in there.

The phone rang before they could really talk about it, Hotch requesting the team hop on a plane and meet them in Nova Scotia. The RCMP and the FBI have taken sole jurisdiction over the case.

Y/N was able to convince him that it would be best if they get some sleep before they go. He agreed, telling them he expected to see them in Canada at 10 am sharp.

“Before we go home tonight can you cross-reference freelance charter boats or fishermen in the area the day each victim missed a ferry? Someone desperate to get a ride might be willing to hop in a boat with anyone going where they are,” Y/N suggested to Garcia.

“I’ll run it in the background, you two go home and get some rest so my god-baby can get big and strong!” She hugged her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Y/N and Spencer didn’t need to be told twice, practically running to their car. She let out the deepest sigh ever once she had her seatbelt on, so excited to go home.

Spencer drove them home, getting used to it as she got more pregnant. Soon she’d be too big to drive at all let alone stay awake the whole time.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked as they cleared the security check.

“Good, Dr. Korrapati is going to email us the results when they’re in and go over them with us on the phone. I told her we’d probably end up going out of the country soon,” Y/N recalled the day.

“The ultrasound was so cool,” he gushed.

“Yeah,” She smiled. Reaching to hold his hand on the centre console. “She also suggested we switch sides of the bed so that we can still cuddle while I’m on my left side.”

“She’s a genius.”

“that’s what I said!” She laughed, “literally how dumb are we?”

“187 till I become a dad and then I’m an idiot,” he smiled back at her quickly. “I’m glad you had a good day. Now we can go eat and get a full night’s rest.”

She let out another deep breath, “I can’t wait to cuddle.”

—

Garcia was waiting for them at the elevator the next morning. “Patrick Timmins.”

“Who?” Y/N asked, fully awake and ready to go, just confused by the ambush.

“I ran the perimeters that you asked for and I found a freelance fisherman slash charter service run by a guy named Patrick Timmins,” Garcia explained. “The townspeople call him Patty Tims, they think he’s fine and lovely according to his Yelp page but his criminal record tells a different story.”

“Really? I thought that was such a long shot!” Y/N was cheery from the extra sleep she got with Dr. Korrapati’s advice.

“The plane is ready when you guys are, I have all the updated info in this as well as some snacks for the plane,” she handed Spencer a cloth bag.

“What would I do without you? My pretty penny,” she kissed her friend on the cheek.

“If it means I get some sugar from you, I’ll do anything,” Garcia flirted with her in the absence of Morgan. “Go get on your plane, I will see you when you return my loves.”

They landed in Nova Scotia around 10 am like Hotch had requested. Bypassing customs and driving directly to the RCMP headquarters. They needed to come up with a plan, they had no idea how to find a man who travels by boat and lives at sea.

“We could always send undercover’s out in the areas he’s picked up before, have them dress as hitchhikers, miss the ferries and wait and see who tries to pick you up. Everyone will have a team watching and police boats on standby?” Morgan was theorizing as Spencer, Y/N and JJ walked in.

“We have report’s that he’s in the bay, if we’re going to do this we need to do it now,” An RCMP officer she hadn’t met yet announced to the room. “Who here is comfortable posing as a vic?”

JJ raised her hand, “get me some dirty clothes and I can be ready in 5.”

They raided the lost and found, they filled a backpack with random things and tried their best to dirty her fingernails and hair. She looked like she had been travelling without a proper place to stay for a while.

They managed to hide a wire on her, prepping what she was going to say if she was in danger and they needed to move in. Hiding a gun and a knife in her socks in case she needed them later.

They drove her down to the bay dropping her off 1 kilometre away, letting her walk into town while they parked closer to watch with binoculars. They planned it for her to arrive as the ferry pulled out of the bay.

She ran down the dock, trying to catch the ferry. Putting on the best performance of: “fuck, I missed the boat!” That they had ever seen.

“She’s going to win an Oscar,” Morgan whispered in the back of the surveillance van, trying to make Y/N laugh.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” They heard over the wire, trying to identify the source of the voice. The man was standing on his boat, hanging over the edge to get JJ’s attention.

“I missed the ferry, do you know when it’ll be back?” She played dumb. “I promised my mom I’d be back tonight and now I won’t be.”

“I can give you a ride, for a price,” the man suggested. “Names, Patty Tims.”

Hotch turned around from the front seat and motioned for Y/N and Morgan to head out quietly without making a scene. Listening in their headsets as JJ replied. “How much?”

They hid around the corner of the ticket booth, watching as the undercover officers walked around the civilians.

“Just a simple photo, I like to put a face to the stories I run across. Come on up,” he motioned for her to get on the boat.

She walked closer to him, “I don’t know sir, I should probably wait for the ferry.” She smiled.

“No,” he ground his teeth together and clenched his jaw, reaching for her.

She grabbed his arm and flipped him, getting into the boat and pushing him to the ground. She cuffed him by the time Morgan and Y/N could board. “What the fuck is this?” He struggled in her grasp.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 6 people,” JJ replied, about to tell him his rights.

“Only 6?” He laughed.

JJ shoved him into the floor harder, reading him his rights before lifting him to his feet and shoving him off the boat and into RCMP custody.

Y/N lifted her hand up to high five JJ, pulling her into a half hug as they walked back to the surveillance van.

She never had a sister before, JJ was probably the only woman in her life that she felt this close to. It was mostly to do with the fact she’s always been so wonderful to Spencer. She helped him feel loved before Y/N, and that was important to her.

“Can we search the boat? Or are we still waiting on the warrant?” Y/N just wanted to check with Hotch before she barged onto the boat. Not wanting to jeopardize what they’re allowed to enter into evidence.

“We got it, you can start looking,” Hotch said, handing her a pair of gloves and a handful of evidence bags.

JJ went with her. They walked in together, noticing that he wasn’t lying about wanting a photo to go with the story. Below the deck, the entire wall was filled with Polaroids of terrified people moments before their deaths.

They bagged them all into evidence, dreading having to put them all into the system and match them to missing person’s reports. Delivering the news that someone’s loved one was gone for good was never fun.

Telling 58 families that their loved one was dead was a nightmare.

chapter 17

She’s a little confused when she wakes up to the sound of geese honking. Rolling away from Spencer’s embrace and immediately being blinded by the sunlight in the room. She sat up in a small panic.

She had forgotten that they stayed the night at the new house.

The large windows in the bedroom faced the water. She could see the sun’s reflection on the lake as it stretched over the house from the east. It was absolutely stunning. She could get used to waking up early with a screaming baby if this was the view.

Then she remembered it was the day they got their test results, she bounced a little as she reached for her phone to check her messages.

“Morning bunny,” Spencer’s groggy morning voice startled her a little.

“Bunny?” She questioned, never hearing him call her any form of nickname before.

He reached out of her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly, resting his head in her lap. “Have you ever noticed you hop a little bit when you get excited?”

“Yeah, it’s called Asperger’s,” she smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s honestly better than bugs bunny though, just don’t throw carrots at me okay?” She laughed to herself as she recalled the childhood trauma.

It was a little funny, looking back now.

“Never, you’re my bunny. I love my bunny.”

He was so soft in the mornings. Snuggling in against her skin as he slowly woke up. He stretched and yawned a bit, making the cutest little sounds as he did so.

She kept her fingers in his hair, twirling the ends every once and a while. Mostly running her nails along his scalp, soothing that big beautiful brain of his that she loved so much.

“We find out what the sex is today,” she reminded him.

He lifted up her shirt to expose her belly. Kissing the skin as she laid back against the pillows.

“What’s going on in there today?” She asked softly.

“They’re the size of a prune,” he mused. “speaking of, as you enter the fetus stage this week you’re going to get constipated.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “thanks that’s exactly what I wanted to know!”

“Right now the fetal development is focusing primarily on the bones, tummy and teeth,” he explained with the largest smile on his face.

“There we go.”

He hovered over her, brushing the hair from her face so he could look at her, “You look so beautiful right now.”

He said that as if he wasn’t blocking the sun from her view, perfectly casting a halo glow around him. She placed her hand on his cheek, “I love you.”

He leaned in and kissed her, pressing his body softly against her’s. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. Covering her face and neck with small pecks, making her laugh as he covered her body in kisses.

The phone rang on Spencer’s night table causing him to press his forehead against her hip, letting out a deep sigh. Y/N reached over and picked it up. “Doctor Spencer Reid’s phone,” she answered. “He can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message?”

“Funny,” Penelope replied.

“We have a case,” Morgan added.

“What time do we need to be on the plane by?” She asked.

“Uh, it’s 7:46 now, so you’ve got an hour, tops?” Penelope guessed, “why?”

“I said he was busy. I’ll see you later.” She hung up.

“You did not just do that?” He looked absolutely horrified, his whole face turning pink.

“They could either think you got some, or you could actually get some?” She teased. “We have an hour.”

—

“All 3 Vic’s had been strangled and raped before they were wrapped in plastic and released into the river,” Garcia explained to the team over the laptop as they travelled through the sky. “Washing away all of the unsub’s DNA, however, they did find carpet fragments under the victim’s finger-“

“Like the ’84 Oklahoma Child Murders,” Y/N cut her off.

“What?” Garcia asked.

“Oklahoma 1981 to 1984. Local black children between the age of approximately 6 and 17 were being abducted, raped and murdered. Their bodies were mostly discovered in wooded areas and along the edges of the river, never submerged. The BAU worked the case, only ever being able to solve the last 2 murders before the Oklahoma governor, I think, kicked you off the case, right? They cared more about the money going towards the investigation than the black children going missing,” She explained.

“Gideon and I tried,” Rossi said. Still very bothered by the ending. “We wanted to catch the guy, the last 2 murders were so different from the others and yet the local cops considered it the same guy. Much like this new unsub, he raped young men before strangling them and dropping them in the river. All the way down to the carpet fibres.”

“It ended up being a local man named Oscar Pope, they caught him dumping an older male victim at a police checkpoint. They matched carpet fibres at his house to the 2 rivers Vic’s, but none of the children,” Prentiss cut in. “This has to be a copycat right?”

“We don’t know that,” Y/N added. “The BAU was working the angle that a local boy who knew the majority of the victims was in on it. Um, Daryl Livingston, he was in foster care at the time. He was the 7th boy to go missing and then every one of his friends was found dead after that. However, his body was never found. They suspected that he formed a bond with his captor and offered to bring him, other boys, if he let him live.”

“Any chance that this unsub could be the same kid, using Pope’s tactic to get our attention back on him?” Morgan asked.

“I was about to say that too,” JJ cut in. “they might’ve even been a team back then as well. That would explain why the murders stopped when Pope was caught but they still never found that boy.”

“That’s possible. They concluded that the last victim Pope dropped into the river was a long-time, secret boyfriend of his who found out what he was doing to the children. His MO changed when he didn’t want people to tie the murders together,” Spencer provided the extra information. “Only backfiring when local cops patrolling the river heard a splash.”

“Garcia, can you see if any of the Vic’s have any relation, contact or even geographical coincidences with the original murders?” Rossi asked. “If this is a victim continuing Pope’s work we need to find out who knew him.”

“Sir, Oscar Pope is still alive in a local correctional facility,” Garcia added. “I’m going to run background checks on all contact he’s had in his entirety at the prison, it might take a while but I’ll get it.”

“Garcia, I can go to the facility and just read everything they have there. It might not be all digital yet,” Reid offered.

“Good idea, take Y/N with you. You two bounce ideas off each other better than the rest of us,” Hotch agreed. “Morgan and Rossi join the search teams at the rivers. JJ and Prentiss, we’ll set up communication with the locals and go through old case files.”

“Reid’s good at bouncing somethin’ off her, alright,” Morgan teased him. “You were on speaker this morning.”

Spencer turned bright red once again, burying his face into the table as everyone laughed, reaching across the aisle to give Y/N high fives.

—

Being in a prison was always weird for her.

Having to hand in her gun just to read papers in a dusty office made her uncomfortable. She understood the protocol and she knew the guards would keep them safe, but knowing she was near men she helped put away, that scared her slightly.

“I’m not finding anything,” Spencer sighed. “There was a flood 2 years ago that destroyed most of the files near the ground. Including the Pope documents.”

“We can always just go ask him?” Y/N suggested, “he’s in D cell, he’s behind bars. We can just talk to him from the hallway unofficially. Pretend we’re here for someone else. I’ll say I never thought he really did those murders and gain his trust, see what happens.”

“I don’t like it but, I think we have to,” he agreed. Opening the office door for her to lead the way, “after you.”

Spencer felt very protective, she could tell. He was never pushy or controlling with her, but for some reason, he was now manhandling her. Making sure she walked on the inside of the hallways, closer to the brick walls so that no one could get her through the bars.

“So Doctor Reid,” she picked up the conversation as they hit the D block. “I was reading the book you lent me about engineering.”

“Oh,” he tried to play along. “How did you like it?”

“It was good,” she replied while trying to look at each inmate she passed. “I loved page 187— oh my gosh?” She stopped at Pope’s cell.

“You’re Oscar Pope?” She pointed at him.

“and you’re?” The old man questioned her. “A fed?”

“We’re here for something political, nothing to concern yourself with,” she lied, getting closer to the bars, whispering. “I just want you to know I never thought you did all 16 of the child murders back in the day.”

“Thank you,” he was suddenly enthusiastic. “Now why can’t all the fed’s be as smart as you?”

She laughed, tapping his arm through the bars. “How are you doing? Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”

“Phone privileges!” He answered quickly, “the mail’s taking forever and I’ve got people to talk to before I croak in here.”

“I’m sure you do sir,” she smiled at him. “I’ll pull some strings, you have a good day!”

“You too, beautiful!”

Spencer placed his hand on her hip and led her away from the bars, she waved as they walked away.

“Agent Y/L/N,” a voice stopped her at the end of the hall.

She turned to see a man sitting cross-legged on the cell floor. His orange jumpsuit gathered around his waist as he sat in an undershirt. She glanced over his body, stopping at his face. She’d know those eyes anywhere.

“Didn’t I say only good boys get to talk to me, Bitch?” She snapped at him.

“Congratulations on the little one.” He replied. Laughing as Spencer placed his hand over her small stomach and led her out of the room, through the big metal doors.

“Keep walking with me,” Spencer insisted. “Or I will turn around and I will kill him.”

She huffed and continued down a narrow hallway with him. “We need to call Hotch.”

“Yeah,” he flipped his phone open and hit the speed dial.

“Reid?” She heard Hotch answer.

“We couldn’t get any of his information from forms, they all had water damage so Y/N and I walked past Pope’s cell and struck up a conversation,” He explained.

“And?”

“She got on his good side, pretending that she could get him a favour while she’s here for political reasons. He said he’s desperate to make a phone call today.”

“I’m on my way, get Garcia to prep paperwork to allow us a meeting with him now,” Hotch instructed, hanging up.

Y/N dialled Garcia on her phone. “How’s it going love birds?”

“Not good,” she replied. “We need you to get the paperwork going to allow us to sit down with Oscar Pope today. And we’re going to need to tear through his cell.”

“Oh, damn okay,” She replied. “Ask him about Cody Kollins.”

“Who?” Spencer asked as his phone rang again. He flipped it open, “we’ve got Garcia here too.” Putting it on speaker.

“Morgan and Rossi just intercepted a man dropping a body in the river,” Hotch confirmed. “I need you to rush that paperwork.”

“Sir, what was the man’s name?” Garcia asked.

“Cody Kollins.”

They sighed at each other, “let’s do this.”

—

Y/N watched him through the mirror. She could see him fidgeting. He was frustrated. He was exhibiting the exact same behaviour as he was when he was caught the first time.

“Every time we one-up him, he breaks down,” she whispered to Spencer. “Even in his interrogation tapes, he was like this. When they found the single patch of carpet left in his closet and were able to match the fibres, he lost it. He likes to play it cool and under control, he wrote the story and he wants us to stick to it.”

“How upset do you think he’d be if we went in there and told him we actually caught the original killer and he’s going to be released pending DNA testing?” Spencer suggested.

She tilted her head, biting her lip as she thought. “I think he’d be violent.”

“Sit here,” he said as he walked into the interview room.

She hated having to just watch. It helped that Pope was cuffed to the table, and the table was drilled into the concrete floor, Spencer wouldn’t get hurt. The guards are right behind the door. It’s fine.

“Sorry for the abrupt interrogation, I promise this isn’t what you think,” Spencer smiled softly. “We have reason to believe that the original killer has returned, the state is running the DNA now.”

Y/N watched as Pope’s right eye started to twitch, his finger on his leg was tapping at an odd rhythm as Spencer talked.

“The second we can prove you had no hand in any of the killing’s we’ll issue a pardon and your discharge papers will be filled out,” Spencer finished his sentence and moved to open the door once more.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he hissed. His voice was completely different than it was when they were speaking in D block.

“Why?” Spencer asked, easily playing the innocent and stupid role.

“You think some crazy-obsessed, fuck toy of mine whose doing half-assed attempts at my signature, is the real killer!!!” Pope spat his confession out. Literally covering the table in spit as he became more feral. Shaking violently.

Spencer walked right out of the room. Y/N watched as Pope smacked the table, tugging violently at the cuffs, scratching himself all up. The guards had to run in and hold him down, shooting a sedative into his neck.

“Jesus,” she whispered. Taking her phone out of her pocket to call Garcia, when she noticed the voicemail notification in the bottom corner. She ignored it, calling her friend instead.

“Hey,” Penelope answered quickly. “So turns out we were right, who would have thought, Cody Kollins is actually Daryl Livingston.”

“We just got a confession from Pope,” Y/N shared her news. “They had to sedate him so we’re going to come back to the station. Wait until tomorrow to interview him again.”

“Yeah, sounds good, Hotch and Morgan are in with Livingston right now,” she updated them. “Make sure to eat something when you get there.”

“Yes mom,” she teased, hanging up and smiling.

Spencer put his hand out in an invitation to hold it. She interlocked their fingers and followed him back to the filing room, gathering their things before exiting the prison.

She sat on the passenger side of the SUV, she and Spencer just sat there and took a few deep breaths. Processing everything the exact same way, quietly and on their own.

She cut the awkward silencer by taking out her phone and playing the voicemail. Putting it on speaker.

“Hi Y/N, this is Doctor Korrapati calling. I’ve emailed you your results. The gender is at the bottom, under the little read more button, in case you wanted it to be a surprise. Call the office and let us know when you’re free to go over the results and we’ll book you in, as far as I can tell everything looks good, so don’t feel the need to rush. Take care!”

Spencer looked over at her with a soft smile on his face, reaching out for her hand once more. Holding her hand with both of his now, “do you want to do this?”

“I’m ready if you are?”

He nodded, watching her contently as she opened her email up, finding the right one and scrolling to the bottom. Her heart fluttered a little as she looked at the read more option.

She took a deep breath and clicked on it.

Chromosomal sex: XY

“Well?” Spencer asked softly.

“I’d really love to tell you,” she bit her lip trying not to laugh, “but I don’t remember what this means?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he looked at the screen. He blinked with glossy eyes as he read it, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he cried softly.

It had to be a girl, she knew he wanted one. She convinced herself in that millisecond that it was a girl.

He reached over and placed his hand flat against her belly. “Hi Matthew,” he said softly.

“You’re kidding?” She couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, the two of them happily crying into each other. She wasn’t sure if she was giggling or sobbing, she just knew she was shaking in Spencer’s arms with happiness that this was her little family.

He kissed all over her one cheek as he held her close. “I love you so much,” he reminded her.

She pulled back, wiping her tears off on her shirt sleeve, laughing at the serendipity of it all. “I love you too, dad.”

“I have to drive, don’t make me cry again,” he laughed, wiping his own tears before tucking his ever-growing hair behind his ears.

“Let’s go.”

—

Y/N sat beside JJ in the break room of the police station, salad bowl in her lap, shovelling the dressing-covered leaves in her mouth.

They weren’t tasked with anything until Hotch and Morgan attempted to get some info out of the unsub. “Were you crying earlier?” She asked.

“A little,” Y/N smiled at her. “We’re having a boy,” she whispered.

“Oh my god!” JJ whispered back at her, reaching out for her arm and shaking her a little. “I have a feeling your little guy will be bigger than Henry was so he’ll fit into all Henry’s summer stuff when he’s born!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” She confirmed. “By the time he grows out of everything I might have a second boy and we can rotate it around again,” she laughed. “This is going to be so fun.”

“Matthew and Henry are going to be best friends,” Y/N smiled.

“Matthew,” she repeated. “That’s a nice name, I like it.”

“My brother’s name is Levi, I thought it was a nice way to keep a family name in my baby’s life, and his middle name is going to be Gideon,” she spoiled it for Spencer.

JJ looked a little emotional, “sorry it’s just so surreal thinking about me and Spencer having kids who are friends.”

Y/N moved her dinner out of the way and hugged her then, holding her tightly. “You better not be pregnant too,” she whispered in her ear. Not wanting to give it away if she was.

JJ just laughed, rocking Y/N back and forth in her embrace, not answering. “Right?” Y/N asked again.

“We’re trying, so who knows,” JJ replied.

“Shut up?” Y/N pulled back and stared into her eyes to see if she was telling the truth or not. “Holy shit? Since when?”

“Honestly, I think the night we celebrated Canadian thanksgiving,” she laughed. “You and Spencer got us talking about babies, and you got Henry to sleep through the night, so this is technically your fault.”

“JJ,” Y/N started to cry, “I’m so happy for you.”

“They’ll only be a few months apart, so they’ll be best friends too,” JJ smiled. “This is going to be really fun.”

chapter 18

For Christmas this year, Y/N just wanted to be fully moved into their new home before they had to leave for Vegas. Spencer followed through with the present. Inviting the entire team over for drinks if they promised to stop by Y/N’s apartment and bring a few boxes to the new house. It was basically just free labour.

She spent the night nesting while her friends drank in her kitchen. They understood why she was nervous, she was going to tell her parents about the baby and the engagement, and the house, in 3 days.

It was all going to be a lot.

She was 16 weeks along as of Christmas Eve. Waking up the morning of their flight to a weird twitching sensation in her gut, like butterflies or a muscle twitch but right where the baby would be.

“Spence,” she shook him awake. “Spencer.”

“What’s wrong?” He sat right up, squinting at her as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“It’s like, I don’t know how to explain it?” She worried.

Spencer placed his hand on her belly feeling the slight flitter. “He’s kicking.”

Spencer’s early morning smile was the best, he tackled her back against the pillow and dug his face into the crook of her neck. “That’s my baby in there.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” she laughed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “We have to go to the airport soon.”

“I know,” he mumbled into her neck.

“If you get up now, we can go get breakfast before we have to board?” She enticed him, “we can get sprinkle donuts for the flight.”

“Okay,” he said as she freed him from her grip. “Are you nervous?”

“I know they’ll be happy, just not ready for them to ask why I didn’t say anything sooner,” She explained. “I’ve been really distant since I got the job, I’m really excited to spend time with them this weekend.”

“Same,” Spencer smiled. “Come on you two.”

They took a 9 am flight one-way to Las Vegas. Y/N slept most of the ride, spending the last 45 minutes just snuggled into Spencer’s shoulder as he watched a documentary on some form of science or math. She couldn’t hear what it was about, all she saw was a man writing out numbers on a chalkboard.

She ran her hand over her belly lightly. There was no way she could walk into her mother’s house in a few minutes and just pretend it wasn’t there. It was there. So were the 5 pounds of baby weight on her hips and the swelling in her face and knuckles.

She was pretty quiet during landing and baggage claim. Thinking in her head what she was going to say to everyone, how she would explain it. She sat in a cab beside Spencer, absentmindedly following him through the airport they’ve both been through at least 20 times.

It was a short trip to her parent’s house. Spencer traced little shapes into her leg with his finger to distract her. A flower, a 4D cube, the words I love you. It was sweet, non verbal comfort was very important to her.

When they arrived, she stayed in the cab to pay while Spencer got their bags out. Taking as long as possible so she could avoid it a little longer.

Biting the bullet, she took a deep breath and walked out into her parent’s front yard. Taking the handle of her suitcase and dragging it up the walkway.

She walked right into her house, her parents and brothers all standing up from the living room and rushing into the entryway. She was wrapped up in 7 hugs within a matter of seconds.

“You look so different,” her mom said as she pulled back from her hug. Holding her arms as she examined her, “what did you do?”

“I got pregnant,” she replied, scrunching her face as she waited for their response.

She could’ve sworn she went deaf at that moment, reaching down to cover her bump as everyone cheered and jumped around her. She was pulled into a group hug before she could process anything. Laughing awkwardly at the whole experience.

“Be quiet, he can hear this week!” She laughed.

“He?” Her father inquired.

She looked back at Spencer, smiling at him. “It’s a boy,” Spencer confirmed.

“Holy shit!” Her brothers cheered, high-fiving each other. “When are you due?” Harrison asked.

“June,” she smiled. “3 days after mom’s birthday, see I do remember it.”

“Come sit,” her mom insisted, pushing everyone out of the way and dragging her to the couch. “Put your feet up, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N insisted. “You’re almost worse than my co-workers.”

“Are they taking good care of you?” Her father asked.

She waited for Spencer to join her on the couch, they had all been so excited about her they forgot he was there. “Yeah. Um, we have a lot to tell you,” She explained, holding Spencer’s hand for comfort.

“I asked Y/N to marry me,” Spencer announced. “I am so in love with her, this baby is a dream come true and I’m very excited to become a part of your family.”

Her mom cried, tossing her hand over her eyes as she sobbed. “Mom,” she was so overwhelmed with everything she started to cry too.

“You’re a wonderful man Spencer,” her father interjected. “It’s an honour to have you.”

Spencer smiled and nodded towards him, silently thanking him for the approval.

“So, it’s kind of insane how it all happened. It wasn’t intended, but we love him so much already,” Y/N glowed as she spoke. “Are we going to tell people the name yet?”

Spencer nodded, “we can.” He smiled down at her with such wonderment, the moment she had been scared of for 16 weeks turning out to be the best time she’s had with her whole family in one room.

“His name is Matthew Gideon Reid,” Y/N smiled. “After my favourite brother, no offence Harry, and Spencer’s mentor.”

Levi was her more emotional brother. He was her best friend growing up. The 5 year age difference gave them the time to grow up separately but still find common interests to bring them together. They were the closest in the family before she moved to Virginia full time it became hard to keep up with him as much.

Now they were both parents, their kids only having a 3 year age difference. Meaning next year there would be 2 little ones at Christmas.

“That’s a lovely name,” Levi smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s whatever, don’t expect our kids to have your name either,” Harrison replied as he held his wife close, pretending he was a little offended.

“We also got a house,” she added to change the topic, “Jason Gideon, he kinda gave us his place in Virginia.”

“You’re kidding me?” Debbie gasped. “For free?”

She laughed, “it’s complicated.”

“I grew up without a father, and Gideon neglected his son for his work at the BAU,” Spencer chimed in. “We bonded, and he wanted his house to be used for good. He specifically asked for us to fill it with love and laughter. We’ve just finished moving into it. You can visit any time!” He panicked and rambled by the end.

“I don’t know if you know this,” her mom tried to joke with them. “But there’s this thing called a phone, where you can call your mother and tell her these things.”

“I wanted to!” she hurried the words out. “But I’m still working in the field, I was weary with who really knew besides the team. It’s my only weakness on the job.”

“I get it,” Debbie smiled. “Honestly, I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N choked back tears. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Pregnant things, y’know.”

—

Visiting hours at the nursing home changed during the holidays. Spencer and Y/N were permitted to enter anytime between 8 am and 10 pm, giving them lots of time to spend the afternoon with Y/N’s parents before visiting her.

They borrowed her dad’s truck, driving to the nursing home with a special gift for Diana. Spencer had spent the last 2 weeks making a scrapbook page about Matthew for her, he knew how much her book meant to her and he wanted to add to it.

Her mom’s co-workers all stared at them as they walked in hand in hand. Her bump on show under the T-Shirt she chose to wear.

Diana was in her room, then walked down the long hallway to her suite. Knocking lightly on the door, waiting for her to greet them.

The door swung open, “Spencer!” She cheered. Hugging him tight in her arms.

“Hi mom,” he held her just as tight. Knowing he was a mama’s boy always made Y/N’s heart flutter.

She pulled back and looked at Y/N, “you look so nice!”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Stepping in close to give her a hug as well.

Diana welcomed them into her room, closing the door behind them. Y/N took a seat on the couch while Spencer looked around at the new things she had on display.

“I made you something,” he said softly, taking off his bag and pulling the pressed cardboard out of the protective sleeve. “here.”

She held it in her hands, looking at the ultrasound photo they got a few weeks ago at the anatomy scan. “What is this Spencer?”

“You’re going to be a grandmother,” he explained. Watching her run her fingers over the words on the paper. She was in shock, she had nothing to say. She just looked at the photo.

She quietly walked over to Y/N and sat beside her, “may I?” She asked, holding her hand up.

Y/N leaned back a little, “absolutely.”

Diana placed her hand on the bump lightly. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get to really experience this one day,” she whispered. Trying her best not to cry. “Thank you.”

Y/N cried, not realizing how special this must be for them. She was so focused on her family that she forgot that this was going to change Diana’s whole world. She now had 2 boys to love unconditionally.

“His name is Matthew?” Diana asked, running her hand over the bump softly.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled. “He’s due in June. If you can, you can fly out and stay with us for a little?”

“I’d love to,” Diana replied. “I have enough points for a trip, and I’ve been feeling really good on my medication.”

“If your doctors clear it all, Debbie and you can fly in together,” Spencer confirmed.

“Wow,” Diana smiled like Spencer. Wide thin lips, straight white teeth, big rosy cheeks and glistening eyes. She hoped Matthew inherited it too. “This is my best Christmas yet.”

—

Y/N woke up Christmas morning with Spencer cuddled into her side in her childhood bedroom. She slipped out of his grasp and sat in her windowsill instead.

She pulled her knees to her chest as best as she could now that she was pregnant, looking at the lone swing across the street that swayed in the December morning breeze.

It should be 8 am back at Quantico, her parents must have let them sleep in while they opened presents. She could see Chloe in the front yard trying out her new car. Levi smiled as he pushed her down the road, Lizzie filming the whole thing on her phone.

Her whole life was so different from the last time she really sat on the windowsill in her bedroom. Back then she was about to move to Virginia, graduating college in Nevada and getting into the training program at the academy. Harrison was already there at Fort Meade, she was about to move into his house with his wife for the first semester before settling into DC. Levi and Lizzie had just started dating, Chloe wasn’t even conceived yet. And she had no idea when she’d run into Spencer.

She rubbed her hand over her belly as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t wait for the day that she was pushing her own child on that swing across the street. The day she and Spencer tell him about the love story that bubbled between two kids with books who looked at each other for years before they fell in love.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, removing her from the moment she allowed herself to have.

She wiped the tear from her cheek, “they’re happy tears. Go back to sleep.”

“Come cuddle?” He pouted, his big puppy dog eyes drawing her back to the bed.

She snuggled into him, running her fingers against his bare chest as she watched him breathe. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” he kissed the top of her head.

“When I was 17, I had my appendix out.” She rolled over and laid back, showing him the 3-inch scar on the right side of her stomach. “It was pretty bad, they said I would have died if my mom waited 15 more minutes to get me to the hospital. They had to fix parts of my stomach and intestines that were eaten by the ruptured appendix bile.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered, running his finger along the scar. “I always thought that was just a scratch.”

She shook her head lightly. “It was December 5th, ’98. They uh,” she took a deep breath before resuming. “They put me on a drug called Dilaudid, they told my mom it was a non-addictive version of morphine and that I’d be fine but, I kinda got addicted to the pill version when they let me out,” she scrunched her face as she told him. Not wanting his opinion of her to change.

“You’re kidding?” He asked, a chuckle fell past his lips as he sat up. “In my second year at the BAU I was kidnapped by a man with dissociative identity disorder and he drugged me.”

“Dilaudid?” She asked, sitting up too and shaking her head in disbelief.

He laughed at how absurd it was, “yeah.”

“I moved to Benadryl for the sleepy and calm effect after I couldn’t get any more refills and didn’t want to admit I had a problem, and weed in college” she added. “but I haven’t even taken a Tylenol in the last 5 years now.”

“I had a small problem with it after everything, but I’m also clean now,” Spencer smiled at her. “Why did you want me to know?”

“Because I don’t want to take any drugs when I deliver the baby, even if I beg for them I don’t want them to give in. I talked to Dr. Korrapati about it but I wanted you to know too,” she explained. “Being in here all night got me thinking about a lot.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tackled her back against the pillows. “I love you,” was all he said.

“I love you too?”

“Seriously,” his voice was so soft and low. “I’ll never stop.”

chapter 19

She woke up to the feeling of hair tickling her face. She swatted at her face to try and get it to stop before opening her eyes. She blinked into the early morning sunlight, only to Spencer looking down at her, his hair long enough to tickle her skin.

“You were snoring,” he whispers down to her. “Also, Happy Birthday.”

She smiled, pulling him down and into a hug. “Thank you.”

Every morning with Spencer for the last 10 months had been special. Something about the warmth of his body against hers, and the sunlight bouncing around their new bedroom made this morning her favourite.

It was so calm on the water. She could see the snow settling on the ice as the sun made it glisten like diamonds. The birds had all but disappeared for the winter, the stillness in the world was lovely. It was like time stopped with Spencer laying in her arms.

“What do you think Penelope has planned at work today?” She asked him softly, playing with his incredibly long hair. It was almost longer than hers now.

“She told me to bring you in after 8.”

“So does that mean you have to distract me for a little while, Doctor Reid?” She teased him.

He pushed himself up, leaning on his arm as he hovered over her. “Any requests?”

She spread her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Have at ‘er,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as Spencer just shook his head.

He dipped down to her belly, blowing a raspberry onto her protruding bump. “Good morning to you too little dude,” he whispered against her skin. “Go back to sleep.”

She shoved him lightly, not able to stop herself from smiling, “he is asleep, leave him alone.”

It was the best morning ever.

Every time she thinks that she’s reached peak happiness she discovers another level. It felt like every time he touched her, she wanted to describe it as the best she’s ever felt.

When they finally got dressed and made their way downstairs for the morning, she found it incredibly odd that he wasn’t asking her what she wanted for breakfast, like he did every morning. Very concerned that she had all her meals and then some.

She fed the cat, picking him up and giving him a little snuggle after he finished his breakfast. “You are getting so big and chunky buddy, I might have to change your food timer.”

He meowed at her, sounding really pissed, making her laugh. “Fine but when you can't climb all the stairs in this house it’s your fault.” She placed him back on the ground and watched him wander into the sunlight. Plopping onto the hardwood and stretching out. Just living the life.

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, are we stopping for breakfast?” She asked, the second trimester making her hungrier than ever before.

“Penelope has it covered,” He said, placing his hand on her back as he leads her to the foyer.

“Oh this’ll be good,” she smiled, putting her shoes on before arming the alarm and heading outside.

Spencer locked their beautiful green front door, it was colder out than they had expected. He held her hand as she shivered slightly, they walked down the 3 steps together, Spencer not wanting her to fall if it happened to be icy.

Seat heaters were a blessing from god. The car was freezing when they first got in, the heater barely kicked in by the time they reached Quantico. Living 10 minutes away now was really nice.

Up the elevator they went, she was basically bouncing with excitement. “See?” Spencer nudged her with his shoulder. “Bunny.”

“Shut up,” she smiled as the door dinged before opening.

They walked into the bullpen to find it empty. She took off her coat and placed her bag on her desk before slowly walking up the small set of stairs and heading towards the briefing room.

All her co-workers were sitting around the table waiting for her and the boy wonder to arrive. Strawberry cheesecake danishes sat on a tray on the table, a strawberry milkshake in front of Y/N‘s regular spot.

“Happy Birthday!” They cheered as she walked in.

“You guys!?” She was so flattered. Never in her life has she been thrown a party by someone who wasn’t her mother. “Thank you.”

“Sit, sit,” Penelope insisted. Placing a danish on a napkin and putting it on her spot on the table. “I know you can’t have ice coffee right now, I thought a milkshake was the next best thing.”

“I seriously love you, come here,” she pulled Penelope into a hug, kissing her right on the mouth as everyone cheered.

“See that?” Penelope blushed. “Kisses are how I should be thanked around here.”

“HR already hates us,” Hotch made everyone laugh, “don’t push it.”

They all ate breakfast together, sharing stories from their weekend. They decided to spend New Years’ apart, everyone taking time to themselves for the first time ever.

“Where did you go, Prentiss?” Morgan inquired.

“Sin to Win weekend in Atlantic City,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Oh my god?” Y/N looked at her with absolute astonishment.

“What’s that?” Morgan and Spencer asked at the same time.

“Nothing.” Emily and Y/N replied in unison. Making a look at each other that screamed: ‘tell anyone and I’ll hurt you.’

Like a saviour, the fax machine in the briefing room turned on, spitting out 15 sheets of paper in a few minutes. Penelope cleaned off the table while Hotch ran everything over.

“Last night a family in Boston had their home burned down with them inside it,” Hotch explained.

“How is that something for us to look into?” Rossi asked.

“Because the unsub broke in and turned the water off and tampered with the gas system, causing CO2 to render them unconscious. He stabbed the father to death in the bed before laying gasoline all over the floors and lighting the house on fire.”

“Damn,” Y/N whispered under her breath. “That is personal.”

“I’d say,” Hotch agreed.

“Who was the family?” JJ asked.

Garcia looked through the sheets of paper spewed across the table. “Thomas Greenway, 61. His wife Alison 43. And 2 children aged 8 and 12.”

“We need to head to Boston,” Hotch announced. “I’ll call about prepping the plane. Y/N you can stay here with Garcia if you’d like, your insight will aid her search greatly.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind,” she smiled at Garcia. “Good luck out there.”

“Wheels up in 30.”

Everyone sighed before standing up. Spencer leaned in and kissed Y/N softly before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Come home to me safely Doctor Reid.”

He smiled down at her, fixing his shirt before he left with Morgan.

“I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave,” She said softly towards Penelope, making her laugh in the process.

“Come on mama, let’s go to my office,” Garcia said, putting her arm out for Y/N, the two of them skipping down the hallway with their arms linked as the team filled the elevator.

Y/N sat in Garcia’s office and immediately put her feet up, still drinking her milkshake as she flipped through the case files. “Can I suggest possibly the dumbest thing ever?”

She laughed, “shoot.”

“So, homeboy here breaks in and knocks out a family with co2 poisoning, just to stab the father to death and light the house on fire.” She ran it down once more, “What if we just search mothers stabbed before dying in a fire and just see if this is some traumatized kid, at this point that’s what they all end up being.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Garcia said, typing away as she added the parameters. “It’s like you can see the fucking future?”

Y/N threw her head back in a laugh, “did you get something? Seriously?”

“Adele Hollis was found dead in a burning apartment building in Boston in 1978. ME reports say she was already dead from co2 poisoning before she was stabbed 6 times in the chest. The whole apartment complex went up in flames after the unsub doused the bed in gasoline and lit her up.”

“Well fuck,” Y/N replied. “Does she have children?”

“Yes, her son Cameron was at school when it happened. He was 8, he moved in with his step-dad shortly after, they ruled him out and never found the guy,” Garcia added.

Y/N leaned across the desk and dialled Hotch, the plane hadn’t even left yet. “I think I found the unsub?”

“How?” Hotch asked.

“I jokingly asked Garcia to search and see if there are any men whose mothers died in a fire after being stabbed cause we deal with sooo many traumatized kids, and we found one,” she laughed at just how insane it sounded.

“Video in and give us a rundown.” Hotch hung up. Ever the conversationalist.

Garcia and Y/N squeezed into the same frame seeing everyone gathered in the little plane seats. She gave them the basic rundown of her findings, watching them all shake their heads at the fact she solved the case already.

“Have the local PD issue a warrant and bring him in. Can you check and see if he knows the victims?” Hotch asked.

“On it sir,” she smiled, clicking away.

“How did you do that so fast?” Morgan has to ask, “it’s not human.”

She laughed again, “If I’ve learned anything in the last 10 months it’s that traumatized little boys can fuck up a lot of people’s lives.”

“Preach,” Rossi added.

“Um, guys,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Cameron Hollis’s birth father is the father who was stabbed in this case.”

“You’re shitting me?” Y/N couldn’t believe it. “Do they have any kind of relationship?”

“His father is on the birth certificate but it looks like Adele left him when Cameron was 3, after some domestic disputes that had the cops at their door. She was remarried when he was 6, it doesn’t look like they ever really talked,” Garcia explained while continuing to dig.

Y/N watched through the monitor as the team gripped their seats, the plane was taking off now. They would be in Boston with this guy in just a few hours.

“Thanks, Lady Wonder,” Morgan winked at the camera for Y/N before leaning in and turning the monitor off.

She sat back and put her feet up once more. “Best birthday ever.”

—

They had Cameron Hollis in custody with a full confession before 5 pm that day. Everyone was beyond thankful that they would be back home with their families shortly.

Y/N had said goodbye to Penelope shortly after, driving home to have some alone time. Rossi would drive Spencer home, they lived close enough now that they could all carpool if they wanted.

She had never been in their new house all alone before. She took the time to just walk around and admire everything, being thankful that her life ended up like this. Not taking a second of it for granted.

She sat down on her bed finally, taking her phone out and calling JJ.

“Hello bestie,” she answered.

Y/N smiled, “Hey, do you think Will could find a babysitter tonight?”

“Probably, why?”

“Tell him to drop Henry off and head to my place. I’m going to have pizza delivered and you can come here with Spencer when you land,” Y/N offered. “Have a date night with us.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll call Will right now. See you later,” JJ sounded happy. It made her smile.

“See you.” She hung up, laying back against her bed softly.

She changed quickly before heading downstairs, wearing a pair of leggings and an academy t-shirt. She was getting too big for almost everything she owned now.

She placed an order for a few pizzas to arrive at 8:30. Next, making sure she had more beer in the fridge, for the nights when Will wandered over with JJ. They had visited almost every weekend since she and Spencer moved in.

That’s when she saw him.

chapter 20

Previously...

The dream was always the same:

A man would get into their home, he knew their schedule, he knew when she’d be alone.

He’d get in without any trouble and he never made a sound. She wouldn’t even know he was in the room until she felt the cold metal gun press against her face, as shaking hands instructed her to tie her own behind her back.

He’d always use her supplies. Duck tape, shoelaces, scarves. Anything at his disposal that he didn’t have to bring with him. Almost as if he didn’t fully choose her to be his victim until the very last minute.

He assaulted her all for what felt like hours, stopping occasionally to cry in the bathroom or eat a snack in their kitchen. And he always showered at the end. Sometimes, he’d wrap her up in a housecoat, put her sheets in the wash and sincerely advised her to invest in a better lock for the sliding door.

Then he was gone.

Slipping into the night, on his way to become someone else’s nightmare...

There was a man in her yard, he was dressed in all black, with a backpack wrapped around his shoulders and a ski mask on his face.

He couldn’t see her from where she was in the kitchen, but she could see him. She ducked to the floor and crawled towards the stairs, booking it up the steps and grabbing her gun. She made sure it was loaded, grabbing a second clip from her nightstand and tucking it into her pocket. Then she detonated the alarm system from the remote on Spencer’s bedside table.

She crawled into her closet, making herself look like a pile of clothes.

And she waited.

She felt a little insane, she tried to convince herself that it could be anyone from a neighbour to a lost person from the trail. For all she knew, it was someone from the academy lost in the woods.

She tried to calm her breathing, calling Will with her cell phone. “Hey, JJ just filled me in-“

“There is someone in my backyard in all black with a backpack, how fast can you get here?” She panicked in a whisper.

“Fuck, okay, I just dropped Henry off at the sitter. I’ll be right over, stay put and I will call you when I’m there,” his southern accent came out more when he was stressed.

“Okay, thank you,” she hung up and took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds in her house.

She remembered what the house sounded like that morning. The stillness, the quiet peacefulness of her and Spencer in the bed only 12 feet away from where she was now hiding.

She remembered the way the floors creaked as it popped and settled with the heat, how the tree outside would sometimes tap the window, the sound of snow tumbling off their roof. Passing cars on the main road kicking up gravel, the odd bird singing in the cold breeze, her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then she heard the alarm turn off with its overly happy welcome home chime. Only knowing one man would be able to disarm her alarm system without a code, and he was in the air right now.

“Open,” she heard the alarm’s voice as the door opened.

Footsteps travelled along the hardwood floor in wet shoes. She listened to the sound of the wet rubber on hardwood explore the first floor.

There were 2 people in her house, splitting up as one went to the kitchen and one went up the stairs.

She aimed her gun at the doorway, aiming to shoot anyone who walked through the door in the leg. Not wanting to kill anyone who she knew that might’ve gotten in for a different reason, unannounced.

In the rare happenstance that this wasn’t her worst nightmare coming true.

Her hands were shaking as she kept the gun pointed for what felt like hours, just waiting for him to find her. The door handle started to turn slowly, she heard the sound of the old metal grinding ever so slowly.

The first thing she saw were his eyes, yet again. The same eyes that haunted her dreams, the eyes every woman she spoke to for 2 years remembered from behind the ski mask.

Fuck Wichita, he was her own personal nightmare. He had been for a while. Those eyes, big and black all the way around, not a single glimpse of colour or life or hope. Every single dream came flooding back as she saw him in her doorway, the same aura of death, destruction, loneliness and despair from all those months ago was now filling the most special place in her home.

He still hadn’t seen her in the closet, looking around the room carefully as she watched him. Waiting for him to get closer, and closer to where she was. Finally peeling back the wooden closet door.

“Surprise, bitch,” She said before aiming higher and shooting him between the eyes, knocking him down.

She stood and stepped out of the closet, “Travis fucking Johnson,” she shook her head as she looked at the man bleeding on her bedroom floor. Taking his pulse to ensure that he was dead.

She couldn’t hear anything for a second, trying her best to zone in on the sound of someone tiptoeing in her kitchen, “WHO ELSE IS IN MY HOUSE?” She screamed.

Suddenly she could hear the sound of a car on the gravel and then a door slamming. She stepped into the hallway, gun pointed, looking over the railing towards the front door.

“Y/N?!” Will yelled. Gun pointed as he entered her house.

“I’ve got one down, I think there’s another in the kitchen,” she replied.

“On it.”

Y/N looked down the hall, none of the upstairs rooms were open, every door exactly how it looked when she ran up the stairs. She headed down the steps when 2 shots were fired.

She quickly ran to the kitchen to see another man on her floor behind the counter, his feet the only thing she could see as he laid there, dead. Will was standing over him, taking his pulse.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

Y/N finally let herself panic, shaking as she tried to catch her breath, pulling out a chair from the counter and sitting down. Her adrenalin was running wild in her bloodstream, she didn’t even know how to speak let alone think about what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Will’s soft voice brought her back to reality. He was right beside her, wrapping his big strong arms around her to try and calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“Who was it?” Is all she asks him.

“I have no idea, who was upstairs?” Will asked.

“Travis Johnson, from my first case with the BAU,” she calmed down a bit, breaking away from the hug to get off the chair.

She walked around the counter island, looking down to find another man she knew, bleeding on her brand new hardwood floors. “Oh my god,” she felt sick at the sight.

He smelled the same, stale and rotten. The same look on his face even as he slipped into eternal damnation. Empty as when he was alive, pure evil down to his core. Dead to match how he felt inside as he did those awful things to undeserving mothers.

The second worst man she’s ever come in contact with.

The Winnemucca Womb Raider.

She backed up into Will, he held her close so she didn’t drop to the floor, helping her back into the chair. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” she felt herself starting to cry. “How? They were both in prison?”

“We need to call the police,” Will said softly before taking his phone out.

“911 what’s your emergency?” She could hear the muffled woman’s voice as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“This is Detective William LaMontagne Jr. Two men just broke into my friend’s home and tried to kill her,” he explained the situation, making her shutter.

She watched as he talked to the woman, suddenly not able to hear anything as her body slipped into shock. She was completely numb. In the last 10 months she hadn’t fired a single shot on the job, and yet on her birthday, the one time she's alone, she has to kill someone in her own home.

The place where she was supposed to feel safe and happy. Where her new life with Spencer and Matthew was supposed to start. They promised Gideon love and laughter, having that dream stripped from them when Pure Evil stepped over the threshold.

It was just like the dream, the last one she had before Spencer wrapped himself around her, calming her down.

This time he wasn’t here, he didn’t even know that this had happened, he wasn’t always going to be there to save her. She pulled herself back into the moment, calming herself like she had all those years before him.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress, he knew that.

A man walked into her home, the one time he knew she’d be alone and vulnerable.

That was the only part of the dream that matched.

Unlike her dream, she wasn’t a victim. Not in this house. Not in her space. Not ever.

The sound of the sirens echoed in her ears finally, she turned to the commotion of officers running into her new house. Will walked them through it all, telling them who Y/N was and that this was her home. How she saw a man in her yard and hid before killing him upstairs.

“Ma’am?” A stranger in a uniform tried to get her attention. “Ma’am, can you come with me?”

She nodded, standing up and finding support in the man’s arms. He wrapped her up in a silver blanket before he led her outside and into an ambulance. She had her vitals taken and an oxygen mask placed on her to help her calm down.

“Is the baby okay?” She asked the EMT, pulling the mask off her face so he’d hear her.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress but you need to relax so we can keep it that way.”

Will climbed into the ambulance then, taking her hand in his, “hey doll, are you okay?”

She nodded, “just a little shook up.”

“I called Spencer,” he said softly. “They’re 30 minutes from landing, then him and the team are on their way. No one told the team about the prison break in Oklahoma, they didn’t even think to connect them back to you.”

She sighed, “two cases in 2 different states, where the offenders ended up going to a 3rd state to meet and do time together and bond over the women who put them away. Makes sense.”

“You put them both away?” He asked.

She nodded again. “I basically made it my life goal to get Travis Johnson, he’s the reason I have this job, he’s the reason I’m pregnant right now,” her words trailed off into whispers. “I saw him in November, he congratulated me when he saw the bump.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“The Winnemucca womb raider, he would kill pregnant women by strangling them before removing their wombs,” she looked at him, horrified. “They wanted to kill us...”

She wrapped her arms around her own stomach, she had almost forgotten to worry about him. To even think that she was more than just one person at the moment.

They weren’t after her, they were after the most important thing to her. Her son, her baby boy. Like all the mothers before her, like their own. They wanted her to suffer, for her son to be spared a future worse than death in their opinion.

All the images from the cases came flying back as she blinked faster and faster. Strangled women, removed wombs, thanking God for a second that Spencer was the one to see the recovered organs in his trailer. A sick feeling bubbled in her body, a chill ran deep in her bones.

Then everything went black.

—

The first thing she remembers when she gained consciousness again was that Spencer was furious. She could see him and Hotch in a heated conversation from inside the ambulance, she tried her best to wake up and zone in on what was going on.

It was too dark for her to read their lips, but he was angry.

JJ was sitting beside her now, holding her hand. “Hey, bestie.”

“Did the cat get out?” She doesn’t know why that’s the first thing she asks, “the door was left open, did he get out?” Still in shock, still trying to understand everything.

JJ shushed her, petting her hair as she leaned in close, hugging her softly. “He was in the laundry room, Will said he made sure to find him when you were getting checked out.”

“Good,” she nodded along as she listened. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

JJ let out an awkward laugh, “I can imagine.”

“I’m also starting to fall in love with your husband,” she found her sense of humour then. “He has perfect timing.”

JJ laughed a little harder, causing Spencer’s focus to shift to the ambulance. Y/N watched him run towards it and jump in.

“Y/N, oh my god,” Spencer wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m safe, the baby’s healthy,” she assured him.

He kissed her all over her face, making her giggle when he wouldn’t stop, repeating kisses all over her face, her ears and her neck. She could hear JJ also laughing as she watched with Hotch just outside.

He finally stopped to catch his breath, hugging her again with his face in her neck. “I love you,” she reminded him.

“You love me?” He pulled back, “I love you so fucking much, I am never leaving you alone again.”

“Spencer,” she laughed, “I think I handled it pretty well.”

He huffed and shook his head, “you shouldn’t have had to handle this in the first fucking place! It’s not that fucking hard for someone to call the god damn FBI and say hey two psychopaths that your genius new girl put behind bars, fucking escaped!”

She finally knew what Hotch meant when he said Spencer’s anger scared him. She looked at him like he was a whole different person, “Spence, baby, I know. It’s okay, I’m fine see?”

She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, watching his pupils change size as he focused on her. Love and life behind them, true happiness clouded by horror at the thought of losing the love of his life.

He was what a true man was supposed to be, a real genuine person with love and kindness, and empathy. Her soulmate, her Spencer.

“We can’t control everything, that’s what you told me. We handle what’s in front of us, and we do it well,” she smiled as she reminded him.

Spencer started to cry, pulling her in close. “I can’t lose you.”

She cried at the sound of his voice, his heart shattering as he cried in her arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Terrified on a level she’s never seen in him before.

She rubbed his back as she held him, rocking him lightly as she shushed him absentmindedly. Soothing him as if her life depended on it, it broke her heart to see him this broken about the idea of losing her. She loved him so much it made her heart physically ache in her chest as she held him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, whispering against his hair. “I’ll kill a million men if it means coming home to you.”

He laughed in the middle of his cries, she could feel him smile softly as he sniffled against her shirt. “Promise?” He asked as he pulled back to look at her.

She wiped the tears from his cheeks, his beautiful eyelashes clumped together in the wetness. He was so sweet, she couldn’t help kissing him quickly, “promise.”

—

Hotch insisted they head to the BAU with the rest of the team while he handled the crime scene and the forensic clean-up, knowing on a personal level what it was like to clean Evil’s blood out of your bedroom carpet.

Y/N was sitting in the car waiting to leave when she saw Will coming out of her house with 3 pizzas. “I forgot I ordered those,” she gasped at the sight.

“You should’ve seen the look on the delivery guy’s face,” JJ laughed.

It was really bizarre having a pizza party in Rossi’s office after shooting someone in her home. Everyone was trying to be as chipper as possible to try and take the tension off the situation, but Y/N was pretty quiet.

Morgan got everyone to settle down before closing the office door, sitting close to her and Spencer. “Everyone in this room has either been shot, in danger, held hostage or worse,” he offered her some support.

“If you want to share anything, express any feeling or just tell us to fuck off, you can,” his words were soft, she watched him with soft eyes as he spoke.

“The only thing I can think of is that fate is fucked up,” she replied, the honesty slipping off her tongue like it was made of butter.

“You have the floor,” he insisted that she continue.

“I moved into a tiny apartment, farther away from my job, because I needed somewhere to live, and I found Spencer in the hallway. Spencer led me to you, and you guys helped me find Travis Johnson, my personal nightmare case of 2 years,” she explained like they never knew that. “But it’s so much more than that now.”

“We ran into Travis at the prison in Oklahoma a few months ago,” Spencer added. “He noticed that she was pregnant and congratulated her.”

“But the thing that’s fucking me up the most is that, and sorry TMI,” she warned them before continuing. “but we conceived the baby in Kansas when we caught the VICAP counsellor, only a few towns over from where we arrested Travis. Then we ran into him on a different case in Oklahoma, and he happened to be in the same prison as a man from New Mexico I put away for killing pregnant women. Something about this all lines up so perfectly... I hate that I find it so interesting.”

“That is kind of insane,” Morgan agreed. “I think it just means you and Spencer are being pulled together by something with bigger plans than you realize. And you’re a good shot, so thankfully you have nothing to worry about now.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

She held Spencer’s hand, looking down at the ring on her finger that meant she was his forever. As much as she hated the idea of a man owning a woman, she loved the idea that Spencer was her person forever.

They were tied together in a way no one would understand, she loved him deeper than she ever thought possible.

Everything happened for a reason. Her reason just so happened to be Fate wanting her to spend the rest of her life, Happily with Doctor Spencer Reid.

—

She woke up around noon the next day, Spencer was sitting up beside her reading a book when she finally clued into where she was. They had spent the night at Rossi’s house while the forensic cleanup team handled her kitchen and bedroom.

“Good morning,” she smiled up at him, stretching against the sheets as she fully woke up.

He put his book down and joined her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her neck softly.

“Good morning,” he replied finally. She loved his voice when he hadn’t spoken yet. His vocal cords yearning to be used.

She smiled against his skin, holding him against her chest as she breathed him in. Her safety, her cosmic soulmate.

Everything just felt better in the world when they were pressed this close to each other. This was how they were meant to be.

“How are you feeling?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

She rolled him onto his back, snuggling into his chest and lifting a leg over him so the baby wasn’t squished. “Good, I’m excited to go back home later.”

“You’re not scared,” his fingers ran through her hair as she felt his breath on her face.

“No,” she shook her head against him. “Yesterday could’ve been a lot worse, but I’m trained to think on my feet and the danger is gone now. I’m never going to let myself be a victim in my own home.”

“I love you,” he reminded her. “And after yesterday-“

“I want to get married soon too,” she cut him off, getting up and sitting on his hips. She ran her hands over his chest as she looked down at his beautiful, still puffy, morning face.

He beamed up at her, “I feel it too, I want to make it official. I want to shout it from the rooftops that the love of my life chose me too.”

She nodded softly, “and we agreed that in April this year we’d go to Vegas, and we’d do it. I think we still should, I just want to plan it a little.”

“Of course,” he agreed, squeezing her thighs in his excitement. “Come here.”

She held his face in her hands as she leaned down, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip as she looked at him ever so softly. “I love you,” she said before kissing him.

His hands wandered over her back, holding her into the kiss. Breathing in deep through his nose, kissing her as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.

Spencer was desperate to love her, and she was desperate to be loved by him.

She broke the kiss to just look at him, moving his hair back and pressing her forehead against his. “The park across the street from my parents house,” she whispered.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to get married there, I want to start the rest of my life in the spot where I first really fell in love with you,” she explained, her lips close enough to him that the words could have stuck to his skin.

“I think I can pull some strings and get us a permit by April,” He smiled against her lips, “what day are we thinking?”

“The 23rd, 1 year exactly,” she said before Spencer pulled her back into another kiss, this time it’s soft and delicate. “Until forever,” she whispered against his lips.

“You need to promise me one thing,” he added. Feeling her nod as she kissed down his neck. “I know you said you’re fine, but the second you’re not I need you to tell me.”

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting back up as she straddled his hips. “You have to do the same, I can’t handle you crying in my arms like that again, it really broke my heart.”

He held his pinky out to her, she smiled as she wrapped her own around his. Both leaning in to kiss the other's knuckle, a small tradition Y/N adored.

—

They were back at their house by 5 pm. Hotch had ensured that everything was completely cleaned and there was 0 evidence that a crime had even taken place on the property. Penelope on the other hand had taken it upon herself to break into their alarm system and reset it for them shortly after everyone left.

They changed the code, closed the door and sighed at the beautiful home that felt a little different now. “I think I want to paint,” she announced.

“Yeah?” Spencer laughed at the suddenness.

“It’s too blah, y’know? I see what they were doing with the whites and beige for all the light. But, I’m thinking green in here to flow with the cabinets in the kitchen,” she walked through the foyer as she imagined the colours that would look good. “Like an olive or forest, maybe even jade. It’ll look nice with the dark wood.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed. “Make it feel more like the old apartment.”

“Exactly,” she smiled. “I miss the clutter and the intimacy of the last place, and I know you miss the look of books everywhere.”

“I’m still alphabetizing them in my office,” he added. “I’d like to paint in there as well, I’ve been looking at antique chairs and couches for my reading.”

“Hotch is going to make us take 2 weeks off again,” Y/N looked at him with excitement. “We can put all our energy into this place now.”

“Let’s make it ours,” He agreed.

“Wanna go to the hardware store and look at paint samples?” She hopped with excitement, grabbing his arm and tugging on him.

He laughed, pulling her into his chest. “Sure, bunny,” he pressed his cheek to the top of her head as he held her. “What about Matthew’s room?”

“Oh, me and Penelope have it all planned, all the stuff is being delivered next month. She kinda went a little nuts,” Y/N laughed.

“He’s going to be one loved little boy,” Spencer chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

#hypothetically #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

[ecoamerica]

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[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter 1

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty​ 

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 2,595

Warnings: Language.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!

This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

In art, as in love, instinct is enough.

Anatole France

Chapter 1: 

That look crosses your face. The one that all your teachers at school said was a perfect mimicry of theirs. The one that forces grown men and women to quieten and pay attention. With your eyebrows slightly raised and a look of stop-fucking-about-and-listen in your eyes, the room grows quiet and attentive as the glow of the presentation lights up behind you. 

“Have you ever wondered what makes art unique? Is it the piece of art itself or the hand that created it?” you address the latest batch of students coming through Mi5’s doors. Whilst it is highly probable that the majority of these trainee intelligence officers will not specialise in forgeries as it doesn’t quite capture the glory of fighting extremism, you only want those who truly cared to join forces with your team. Although, what team? Stephens had pretty much washed his hands of you after your latest exploits. Who knows what your new team on Monday would bring. You are too old to try and squeeze yourself into the buttoned up box that Mi5 like their agents to fit into and whilst your old team never expected you to completely toe the line, you knew where the boundaries lay. Or at least, you thought you did. 

“If a perfectly painted Rembrandt or a superbly sculpted Rodin appears to be vivid as the original to the point where even an educated eye cannot spot the difference, why does authenticity matter?” you pose to the class. “The fact is, every artwork is an unparalleled expression of an individual creative talent and a result of a precise personal, historical and cultural context. Art forgeries, even if aesthetically pleasant or technically stunning, can cause serious misinterpretations with extremely damaging consequences for the art world and anti-money laundering services.” A couple of polite coughs, a not so polite yawn and a few shuffles of aching bums on their uncomfortable benches punctuate your lecture. You couldn’t blame them. This isn’t where you want to be either. 

This lecture was a punishment by Stephens for your latest step out of line. He probably would have looked the other way if your paperwork had been correctly filed but it was still somewhere, half done on your quagmire of a desk. You’d love to be organised but that was for other people, who had their shit more together than you. The punishment slowly crawls to an end and the students gather their belongings and filter out of the theatre. Glad to not have any questions posed, you squeeze your eyes shut to try and rest them against the sharp light flowing from the overhead projector.

“Perhaps you missed your calling as a teacher?” a voice scoffs from the back of the room as you log out of the computer.

“Don’t be a total cockwomble,” you mutter in the direction of the voice that was now attached to a hand offering a steaming cardboard cup of black Americano.

“Oh I can see it now! Instead of teaching the ins and outs of international art crime, you could be doing finger painting and collages- your skin shimmering with a film of glitter!” Hephzi snorts into the foam of her chai latte. Your best friend from the first day of training knows how to lift your spirits with her subtle teasing and caffeine bribery.

After a gulp of coffee sets your blood caffeine level at its normal level, you poke her in the ribs before hugging her one-armedly. “Are we still on for tonight?” you ask, “I have severe cravings for halloumi fries and a massive mixed kebab while we lose ourselves in a nouvelle vague classic?”

“You truly walk a fine line between cultured intelligenzia and Friday night British food, my darling girl!” Hephzi purrs as she scoops one of your totes filled with scribbles and dog-eared books, tossing it over her shoulder, settling it next to the strap of her rucksack. 

With a gentle roll of your eyes, you huff at her suggestion, threading your arm through her elbow and follow her out of the poorly lit lecture theatre towards the late afternoon gloom of a London March day. 

✪✪✪✪✪

All airports are hell. 

The black on yellow signs of Heathrow buzz like angry bees through Marcus’ mind after the seven hour flight from DC, the recycled aeroplane air still sitting heavy on his skin. He’d been to London many times and knew the airport like the back of his hand so his semi-zombified state isn’t an issue through the warren of staircases and corridors that make up Terminal 4. As he watches the slow, steady spin of the baggage claim, he rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck. Even despite his escape to DC, it still wasn’t quite far enough from Lisbon and Jane, the ghosts of their relationship haunting him through the hallways and offices, dreading seeing the toxic pair around the next corner.

Grabbing a small grey case, with his most treasured possessions that he didn’t want shipping over, he didn’t really look like someone who should be heading up the Five Eyes department of Art Crime. He just feels old, tired and irritated that he could just not shake the ghosts of his past.

The failed marriage. 

The failed engagement. 

Dressed in an old pair of jeans, a white henley and a baggy grey hoodie with suitcases rather than bags under his eyes, he looks more a middle aged, world weary man, than the sharpest American mind in art crime. As he heads towards customs, his navy passport in hand, he wonders if he’ll be pulled over again as he was in Lyon. He’d obviously matched a profile somewhere but there were certainly red faces all around when he’d got the American Embassy to ring through and explain that Marcus was exactly who he’d said he was. Fingers crossed, eh? 

He needn’t have been worried. There was no price on his face today. 

“Marcus Pike?” a slightly Northern, male voice asks gently.

Marcus swung out of his airport reverie, raised his eyebrows and smiled warmly in the direction of the voice.

“Andy Welbeck,” a large warm hand stretches towards Marcus, “I’m going to be your PA whilst you’re in London. I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty to grab you a coffee- it’s a vanilla latte? I did check with the staff at your DC office as to what your preferred drink would be.” 

Gripping the hand tightly, and accepting the steaming coffee, Marcus feels a wave of warmth and friendship wash over him from the handsome, young man in front of him. “This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!” he goofily quotes and then instantly could have facepalmed- like this twenty-something would have any idea about Marcus’ favourite film! 

Andy read the man’s discomfort like a book, raising a hand to soothe his awkwardness, “Casablanca is a favourite of mine- how is a film so incredibly quotable and still has such an incredible plot?” Reaching for the handle of Marcus’ wheeled suitcase, Andy continues, “in fact to me, the only other film that manages it, albeit with less of a plot is Withnail and I.”

The tension eases from Marcus’ brown as the younger man’s ease at conversation flowed naturally as they headed to Andy’s car. “So how are you feeling about Monday? Have you had a chance to check out the team yet?” Andy questions gently. 

Marcus ran a hand through his hair, trying to lift the airport-flattened curls. “I have read their files, but I was wondering if you’d give me your point of view on the ones you already know?” 

“Obviously, I can fill you in on the Brit - and the Canadian, who arrived a week early and still hasn’t stopped apologising.” Andy added with an eye roll, “Harper Gleason doesn’t get in from Melbourne until tomorrow morning, Kiritopa arrives on Sunday so I shall be moving my flat from Lewisham to Heathrow arrivals gate over the next couple of days.” 

“Oof!” Marcus exhales, shaking his head in sympathy, “Ouch- is there anything we can do to make it easier? We could just order cabs for them? I need you in one piece for next week!”

“That wasn’t meant in any way as a moan, Sir. It’s the perfect opportunity to make some important first impressions.” Andy delivers firmly, “So, the Canadian is sweet as fuck. She’s super bright and just needs to stop apologising for everything. Dian seems to have this way of watching and seeing the very essence of people. Her clarity of understanding people around her is incredible. She will be such an asset to the team.” 

“Great! What about Anushka?” Marcus enquired as he read down the list on his emails.

Andy laughs heartily, hitting the heel of his palm against the steering wheel. “Ah Nush, Nush, Nush! Where to start with my little firecracker?”

Marcus’ eyebrows raise at this reaction and then furrow. “There’s not much in her file apart from her personal info and yet she’s been with Mi5 since leaving university almost twenty years ago?”

“Probably had to be redacted, Sir.” Andy grins lopsidedly at Marcus. 

“Please don’t call me sir- Marcus only! Stephens put her forward as one of the best?”

“She most certainly is. She’s also a bit of a car crash- albeit the most endearing one there is- but I can honestly say that if she lets you in, Nush will sweep you off your feet with her brilliance.” 

Marcus ruminates over this information and the photo of you attached to your file. A striking woman with almond shaped eyes, olive skin and a Cupid bow mouth stared back him with a slightly raised eyebrow as if she was daring him to disagree with her. Scratching at the scruff on his face, he wonders quite what he’d gotten himself into, heading up the art division of 5 Eyes and being based in London for at least two years. 

“Here you are, Sir, I mean, Marcus. This will be your digs until you find something a little more to your taste.” Andy shifts forwards in his seat to point out Marcus’s new building- a large newly built block stretching into the sky above them. “GHCQ have rented the penthouse suite for you for six months to give you time to settle in. I live roughly five minutes in that direction so please don’t hesitate to call any time. No penthouse for me, but it’s home!” 

“Thank you so much, Andy. I’m grateful for the welcome you’ve shown me. This will be a great partnership.” Marcus pats Andy’s shoulder. “Whilst I promise not to bug you too much, can we go out for a drink sometime? If you’re local, it’d be nice to have someone to introduce me to the area.” 

“Marcus, I’ve already got you pencilled in for a pint on Friday- you don’t need to worry, I’ve got your back.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“Fuck. Where the ever loving fuck are my fucking keys?” You grumble as you rootle through your rucksack. Years of receipts and scraps of paper with doodles from dull meetings obstructed your view and hindered your search for those elusive metal bastards that stood between you and your comfiest jammies, your sofa and A Bout de Souffle. 

“For goodness sake, woman! So glad I got my own key cut.” Hephzi shakes her head, “Out of the way.”

“If you didn’t have a key, I’d have to live on my doorstep more!” you snigger to yourself.

As she turns the key, the door needs a swift kick to open it fully. “Has your landlord still done nothing about the damp here?”

“Course not!” 

“Want me to send a couple of my brothers around? Sort him out?” 

“Mate, I have three useless oiks of my own I could call on for the same outcome. No point in poking the bear,” you shrug resignedly. Hephzi licks her lips as you split the food between two plates- the rice and chickpeas spilling over the side onto the surprisingly clean work tops. 

“Your mum been over?”

“How can you tell?” Your eyes crease in laughter, “Genuinely, I think she believes I’m a bit broken. All my brothers married and babied up and her only daughter is living in a shitty, ex LA, messy, damp filled flat and a nameless “IT” job that she wears an invisible ring for!” Your left hand does the Single Ladies dance as Hephzi roars with laughter. 

With a glass of wine and a heaped plate of food in hand, you kick some of the cushions from the sofa onto the floor. “Do you ever see yourself meeting someone or are you just too married to the job?” Hephzi pries gently, knowing that even with her closeness to you that the door could quickly slam in her face. 

“Honestly?” Your eyebrows slightly raise, “I’m not sure that my mum isn’t too far from the truth. Too broken for anyone who’d I’d let get close.” Hephzi snorts. “Excuse me! I let people get close! Well, as close as I’d like them to be.” 

“You’re not broken, just guarded. To be completely honest, I just think you haven’t met anyone deserving of you yet.” Hephzi reaches over and pats your thigh. 

You exhale sharply and shake your head as you mutter quietly gesturing towards the cluttered flat, “No one deserves this. Now shush, I need to escape into the black and white.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Marcus shrugs his hoodie off as he enters the sparsely decorated apartment, his eyes roaming around his new home. New job. New country. How long could he keep running from his past? With a sigh and rolling up the sleeves of his Henley over gently muscled arms, he starts unpacking his suitcase. 

In some of the drawers, he found some basic t-shirts, pants and hoodies with a note from Andy saying, “Just in case your luggage gets lost!” In the cupboard, there are two suits- one navy and one grey and five shirts. Perfect size, fit and style. Is there anything this man doesn’t know about him? Marcus lets out a nervous laugh- kinda seems like Andy is underused as a PA and should be put into the field! 

A light filled, floor to ceiling tiled en-suite with a full sized tub and separate shower was lined with expensive smelling shower gels, shampoos and creams. Opening one, and inhaling deeply Marcus cocks an eyebrow as he enjoys the cedar, amber and rosemary scent. He is dragged back to that heady summer honeymoon he’d spent with his ex-wife in the South of France, drinking glasses of sauternes with frozen grapes keeping it cool as the air carried the scent of the lavender fields and sun warmed herbs floated on the mistral. That familiar ache returns to his chest, but perhaps it is time to lay that ghost to rest.

Marcus walks further into his discovery of the beautiful apartment. The kitchen is small but functional with two French doors that open onto a small Juliet balcony looking towards Canary Wharf and the many towers that organised all the money coming into the UK. All of the cupboards in the kitchen are stocked with a basic range of cooking ingredients and the fridge even has a few ice cold beers and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. 

“Andy, whatever you’re being paid, it isn’t enough.” Marcus sighs and reaches for a beer, grabbing a bottle opener from the top drawer. It almost feels like it could become home. 

Whatever that is. 

Ok some notes:

5 Eyes is a real thing- used for sharing information about international terrorism between those countries named above.

An ex-LA home means ex local authority home. Post world war 2, Britain built a lot of social housing which Maggie Thatcher allowed  in the eighties to be sold off to private buyers at a lower price to not local authority buildings. They’re not necessarily the prettiest but as the owner of an ex-LA home, they are solidly built and with a great amount of storage space!

The mistral is a strong, cold, northwesterly wind that blows from southern France into the Gulf of Lion in the northern Mediterranean

I welcome any comments, questions or just chats!

tagging: @astroboots for your perusal

@mouthymandalorian​ @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pedro pascal fanfiction #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #the mentalist

[dadsbongos]

spiriting

Insert Coin - Chapter 2 / Series Masterlist

Waking up to the cursed sound of Monokuma’s voice, (Y/n) let her body remain in the warm confines of her duvet. Her eyes were heavy and burned whether she had them open or not. Turning, she let her back rest against the mattress, endless stare settled on the ceiling.

Every time she went to close her eyes, Byakuya’s bloody corpse was staring her in the face. His voice festered between her ears as it called her name. Quite possibly the last thing he’d said to anybody was him calling her name for help.

Stabbed over ten times between his abdomen and throat.

It must’ve been excruciating. To be working to bring everyone together only to be brutally murdered in your endeavors.

She can only hope death was quick to lay its merciful hands upon Byakuya’s soul.

And to be boiled alive, even.

A hand came up and over her heart, scrunching up the fabric of her sleepshirt, a new wave of misery banging at her brain as she thought of Teruteru. The Ultimate Cook. No, their Ultimate Chef. The least she could do was honor his wishes in her mind.

To be slathered in slimy batter and caked with breading was a mere inconvenience in comparison to being boiled - being cooked. The heat. The bubbling and popping of your skin as you quickly simmer.

It made her queasy just to think about.

All that pain, all that suffering - brought about by the hands of Nagito Komaeda. The sweet-faced, gentle-smiled boy of luck. The same boy she was planning on meeting in the dining hall.

Sighing through her nose, (Y/n) slowly rose from her bed before swinging her legs over the edge of her bed frame and pushing up to a complete stand. Her body felt like gelatin, mind in a foggy haze as she moved towards her closet, pulling off her makeshift pajamas and trading them in for cleaner versions of the clothes she already had on.

Exiting her cottage, (Y/n) was sure to lock her door before stowing the key away and heading towards the dining hall before anybody sent out a search party for her. The sand crunched under her shoes as she made her way to the dining hall, hopefully, the others had somehow forgotten about the entire night prior. If she could be the only one with the horrid memory of their friends’ deaths, she’d be happy.

Ultimate Peacekeeper and yet she couldn’t even keep two people alive.

Clenching her teeth, (Y/n) shook her head - if she thought like that then she’d be too busy throwing herself a pity party to focus on any of her peers. She reached out to open the dining hall door and stepped inside, and for a split second, her heart picked up at the thought of finding another body.

A corpse laid across the floor and Monokuma’s wretched voice bringing about another body discovery announcement.

Once again, she forcefully shook off her thoughts and pushed forward. Everyone was there. No, two people were missing.

Fuyuhiko, which was no surprise, seemed an avid supporter of being the “lone wolf” of their group. Nagito, on the other hand, was almost never by himself - despite his previous exclamations of being unworthy of a friend, he surely liked the company of the people on the island.

(Y/n) sidled herself up beside Hajime, giving the boy’s side profile a gentle, unnoticed smile - he looked exhausted, “How’re you feeling?”

“Hm,” Hajime flinched at the sudden noise, turning to lock eyes with the mediator, “I feel…” he looked down at his plate sadly, “fine.”

“Alright,” she pat his back, “if you need anything, I’m always available. It’s what I’m here for, Hajime.”

“Right,” the brunette nodded, he let his shoulders droop, defenses falling ever so slightly, “thanks, (Y/n).”

“Of course,” she nodded, looking around the dining hall once again and quirking a brow, “is it just me or… are there people missing?”

Before Hajime could answer her question, Monokuma appeared suddenly inside the cafeteria - frightening a few of the students. Hajime’s brows furrowed, “You can't just pop up out of nowhere like that!"

"Puhuhuhu, but I can!" what a high-pitched drawl, (Y/n) suddenly thought - she’d always been taught that villains have sickeningly deep voices and here Monokuma was, proving her entire life wrong, "I'm here to deliver the next motive!"

"A motive?" Hajime tilted his head in the midst of his confusion.

"It's not that I don't think you all love participating in my super fun killing game or anything..." Monokuma fidgeted, faking a new shy persona, "But, of course, I thought it would be even more fun to give you guys a motive!"

"Well, we've taken care of everything,” Kazuichi immediately rebuffed, “No one is going to kill anymore, no matter what your motive is!"

(Y/n) swung her head to look at the Ultimate Mechanic, “‘Taken care of’, what are you talking about?”

"Whatever you say!" the black-and-white bear waved off, clearly in disbelief of the boy’s words anyway, "If you're interested, there's an arcade machine in Jabberwock Park with a game on it that might have some cool info for you! And that’s as much as you’re getting from me, bye for now!"

"Ooh, fun!" Ibuki blurted out as Monokuma disappeared.

"Fun?” Hajime shook his head, irritation clear on his face, “No! Guys, we absolutely cannot play that game. This is Monokuma's attempt to trap us. Who knows? The game could be filled with lies to get us to kill each other!"

“Hajime’s right,” (Y/n) nodded, “If anyone plays that game, a murder is likely. I know it’ll be hard but we have to do our best to keep alive.”

Hajime could be a good leader. Strong, independent, commanding - a good man. He could be great. Then again, so was Byakuya.

Mahiru looked around and asked the question (Y/n) had before Monokuma arrived, "Wait, where's Nagito?"

Hiyoko giggled, covering her mouth with her hands as she did so, "He's probably too ashamed to show his ugly face around here.”

"No," (Y/n) interrupted, “I don’t think he’d be so self-conscious.”

"Don't worry about it,” Kazuichi waved off, locking his hands behind his head, “He isn't going to bother us anymore."

"What did you do?" (Y/n) pushed herself away from Hajime and toward the mechanic.

"Kazuichi, you probably shouldn't say stuff like that..." Nekomaru’s voice was strange - hasty, as if he was trying to hide something.

"Nekomaru, Kazuichi," (Y/n)’s brows furrowed as she looked between the boys, “Tell me, right now, what did you two do?”

"Well, we..." Kazuichi glanced at Nekomaru, "Took care of him this morning."

"You guys killed someone?" Mahiru exclaimed, face running pale.

"No! What the hell? Of course, not, we didn't do that!" Nekomaru shook his head as if he couldn’t fathom how his suspicious behavior could lead to that conclusion, "We found him on the way here and... tied him up. So he couldn't do anything drastic again! He's on the floor of the room we had the party in, he's- he'll be fine."

"So you guys - without telling anyone - kidnapped Nagito this morning and just left him tied up?" Hajime turned his head between the two, obviously done with the idiots, "Do you understand why that possibly wasn't the most fantastic idea?"

"What were we supposed to do, just let him run around acting like that?" Kazuichi asked, exasperated, "It's fine! He'll live, we just have to bring him food or something once in a while..."

"Now that we're in this mess, it will be difficult to pull us out," (Y/n) crossed her arms, thinking over the situation, “I’ll keep watch over him. I was going to do so anyway, but two people,” she glared directly at the boys of the hour, “decided to act without consulting the group,” as Mahiru prepared a plate, (Y/n) continued, “Just leave Nagito to me, I’ll be a babysitter for him - if anybody has an issue with him, please don’t act on your own until necessary. It could do more harm than good.”

Handing over the plate, Mahiru gave the peacekeeper a nervous smile, "Be careful, okay? Just run outta there if anything weird happens."

“Right,” (Y/n) nodded, taking the plate, “Kazuichi, Nekomaru,” the two hesitantly looked over to her - it felt horribly similar to facing a disappointed parent - she pursed her lips before giving a sympathetic grin, “I get where you two were coming from and I appreciate it, but don’t do something like this again. It’s dangerous.”

The two murmured out their agreements as (Y/n) left.

Crossing from the dining hall to the old building, (Y/n) flexed her fingers as she walked, gut knotting up inside her. Byakuya died there. Her friend, and to some extent, a role model. All because of the man she was going to be spending the rest of their stay at Jabberwock with. She had to. She needed to keep tabs over him if they wanted to avoid something like the party again.

Her hand stopped at the door handle, fingers resting against the cool metal.

She could just let him starve, it’s not like anybody would care. Nobody would check the old building anyway.

Shaking her head, (Y/n) pushed the door open - she’s supposed to be the Ultimate Peacekeeper and she was already dropping the ball with two deaths and a kidnapping. Letting Nagito starve was just a cruel and unusual punishment. An impulsive thought she'd never act on.

And so, putting one foot in front of the other, she continued down the hall Teruteru did. To find Nagito.

#insert coin #sdr2 x reader #sdr2 reader insert #nagito komeada x reader #nagito x reader #hajime hinata x reader

[yelenasdog]

it was a pleasure to burn (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)

genre: fluff i think even though the name is v angsty LOL it’s a literal screenplay with the amout of dialogue i wrote LMAO so idk

summary: a particularly rough and disturbing case gets to reader, and spencer and reader are brought together by this.

words: just about 6k (my longest fic ahhHH)

warnings: typical criminal minds gore and violence just up a notch, they get on a plane at the end, somebody gets ~shot~, somebody gets ~bonked~, cursing, mentions of reid’s addiction, and i think that’s it. also the reader wears reading glasses but that’s the only predetermined factor of appearance. btw i don’t think i used any pronouns in this but i apologize if i’m wrong. 

a/n: LMFAO i was outside awhile ago celebrating litha with a nice lil hike and i saw a butterfly and i had just started watching cm and was like hMMm... killer who’s obsessed with symmetry??!1??!? y Es. enjoy 😼 EDIT: THERE IS SO MANY PLOT HOLES OMG FBREHJBFHEJFRE IM RBFBRE

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“Aren’t they just stunning?” The unsub spoke, keeping her eyes trained on the butterfly sitting happily on her finger. The brightly colored creature fluttered off her hand that was dripping scarlet, flying around her curly head of brown hair. Her, formerly white, blood-stained dress flowed around her as she followed it, watching in awe as it soared about. She giggled, plopping down on the grass in the middle of a circle of her victim’s pale, lifeless bodies, all of them with ironically morbid butterflies resting upon the frail skin of the corpses.

“Aren’t they, agents?”

She slanted her green eyes, gripping the grass a little harder. I flicked my tongue over my lips nervously, looking over to the lanky man on my left. He simply shrugged, just about as sure of how to handle the situation just as much as I was.

“If I knew you all were coming, I would have cleaned up, I really would have, I promise.”

We slowly walked towards her, twigs and leaves crunching under our feet. It could have been comparable to a hunter stalking its prey, but it unfortunately was quite the opposite.

6 days earlier, Quantico, Virginia

“3 bodies, all found within the last 48 hours in rural New York. So far, the first body has revealed that although it was dumped upstate, the victim was murdered in the city, and the same most likely goes for the other bodies as well. Nails well manicured, no drugs in the system. They aren't junkies, we’re dealing with upper class citizens.”

My face contorted as I took the photos from Reid’s hands, his large and tanned one surprising me by how soft it felt as it accidentally brushed against mine. I blushed like a madman, looking to see him doing the same thing. I cleared my throat getting Rossi’s attention.

“Why are we only now hearing of this?” I questioned, flipping through the images as I did so, my confusion only growing. I didn’t recieve an answer, leaving my curiosity to bloom.

“Wait, how did you say they were killed again?”

Morgan looked up, taking the photos from me. “He didn’t.”

I sighed, pushing my glasses up on my nose.

“Is there at least any correlation between the bodies and the butterflies?”

Our attention was shifted to JJ, the resident expert on the insects.

“Actually, the ones being found with the bodies are from the Amarynthis family, all native to Latin America. They weren’t there by accident so yes, they’re somehow related.”

Rossi stood up, grabbing his coat.

“Well, none of this is nearly enough for a profile, so pack your bags and tell the others, wheels up in an hour. We’re headed to New York.”

4 days earlier, F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York

“The final report from the latest victim is in, all the autopsies are clean. They show no signs of struggles, no marks, no blood, no anything. The eyes weren’t bloodshot, so suffocation is ruled out, and that was our best bet.”

I sighed, sliding the case file across the glass table to Spence as I took my seat, sinking into it and allowing myself to be consumed by its warmth.

“So what your saying is that we’re back at square one.”

I looked up at Hotch from where I sat, running my hand through my ponytail.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

Just then, the young Doctor spoke up as he flipped through the pages.

“The eyes weren’t just not bloodshot, there was barely any blood left in any of the victims bodies, only about 3% of the volume left. The killer drained them.”

Morgan gave me a shocked expression, silently asking for an explanation.

“Which you failed to mention, Y/n.” Aaron spoke, agitation once again present in his voice.

I looked at the ceiling, crossing my arms in front of me before turning to face Hotch once more.

“Yeah, well, I thought it was obvious when I said no blood.” I stuttered out cautiously.

“On the bodies! Not in the bodies!” Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in what was in my opinion, very childish. Everyone else in the room aside from Spencer was either shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their noses, and reasonably so.

“Look, I’m sorry I just didn’t see it in the report, plus, In the scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

I soon regretted my words, realizing how ill-fit they were for the current conversation I was having. Spencer looked up, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t seem to matter? How? There’s an endless amount of possibilities now that we know this. If we had known it sooner we probably could have figured out the pattern and caught the one doing this!” He harshly spewed, his voice acting like a crescendo of sorts, quiet and calm and moving towards a loud and violent tone. Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes and I was starting to feel guilty, not to mention absolutely stupid as could be.

“I’m- I really am sorry guys, truly.”

Hotch locked eyes with me, taking a stern tone that one would usually take with a disobedient child, perhaps even Jack.

“I hope that’s a comfort to you when another body shows up. That’s their blood on your hands.”

I was frozen, the gravity of the situation taking its toll.

In the background I heard him say something to Morgan about a new profile having to be made as there were many new things to be known from this revelation. But it all went in one ear and out the other, just unpleasant white noise.

As I clumsily stumbled out of the room, I felt Reid’s eyes burning holes into the back of my brain. I was quick to turn my head to meet his glance, causing him to look down. I felt bad, the weight on my chest growing heavier from the interaction.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and immediately going to google. I typed in “hypnosis” and let the info trickle in.

About 30 minutes later, I still felt absolutely horrible, but I had also put together a valuable profile in the time that had passed. I shut the newly finished file, blowing an abandoned strand of hair out from my eyes. I had to do a double take when I saw Spencer staring once more, his deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I gave him a small smile before standing up and walking to Hotch’s makeshift New York office. I pushed open the heavy door, placing the folder on his too-clean desk.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it in his hands.

“My theory about the unsub. I think I know what she’s been doing. You can tell the team if you want, I’m not sure if they would wanna hear it from me. ”

He gave a small smile, pushing the file back over to me.

“You get the team together and I’ll get the local PD caught up. You tell them yourself.”

A few minutes later, everyone except for Reid had gathered in the meeting room. I peeked through the half closed blinds that allowed a line of vision to his desk in an attempt to locate him. He was positioned there, staring blankly at his laptop that appeared to have nothing on the screen. I knocked on the window lightly to catch his attention, his glazed over eyes looking in my direction. I tilted my head at him, silently beckoning him to join me. He only shook his in response, shaggy brown locks swaying back and forth. I sighed, frowning at his action. I turned to the group, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Everyone, this will just be a second if you’ll excuse me.”

With a raised eyebrow from Hotchner and a jab in the direction of Spencer’s workspace, I swiftly walked out of the crowded room.

“Spence, care to join us?” I asked, resting one of my hands against my hip, the other on his orderly desk.

“No, I don’t think I will. I need to try to figure this out before she finds her next victim.”

“What makes you think the unsub is a she?” I searched his eyes that had seemingly become brighter at my piqued interest in his hypothesis.

“Well, the unsub seems to be obsessed with symmetry, all the bodies being found in obscure yet symmetrical positions. This could suggest she had some sort of deep rooted insecurity, possibly from some sort of bullying from growing up in a small town where she was looked at as a superior for subpar looks. She moved to the big city, expecting a big break. Instead she was shunned for being less than average. She grew frustrated and as a result, she began her killing spree. The stresser could have been one too many insults that made her snap. Plus, that would account for the butterflies left on the scenes that are used in modern examples of both femininity and symmetry.”

I smiled widely at his words.

“What- why are you smiling, what are you smiling at?”

I tapped his desk, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I headed back towards the conference room, looking over my shoulder.

“Because, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Dr.”

——————

“So, our girl, as Dr. Reid has explained to us, is obsessed with her appearance. She’s an organized killer, no mistakes and no signs of blood or anything of the sort on scene. She has practice, she does this sort of thing every day. She is most likely in the age group of 23-30, and has a job in the cosmetic industry, our guess is in plastic surgery. She probably volunteers weekends at local butterfly sanctuaries or zoos, finding comfort in their perfection that those in her life, or formerly in her life, cannot and could not provide.”

“Which would explain to her easy access to non-native species of the insects. She has an absolute infatuation with symmetry, which yet again, links the butterflies on the crime scene to her MO.”

Spencer and I were vividly explaining our shared theory to the team, as well as local law enforcement. He was excited by his discovery and the lead on the killer, and his energy was contagious.

“She kills without remorse and out of jealousy, picking victims who all have one thing in common.”

Spence pointed to all of the images pasted on the board in the center of the room, all of them split in half and reflected, creating a perfect mirrored portrait.

“They all have perfectly symmetrical faces, as well as strong jawlines and high cheekbones. As most of these victims are models or those searching to start a modeling career, we believe she is luring them in with a photographer trope, promising to make their dreams come true.”

I nodded, taking a moment to study Reid’s own sharp yet somehow soft features. I allowed my eyes to wander over his sunken in, kind, and curious eyes; his pillowy pink lips that are in dire need of some chapstick.

“Agent?”

I turned my head, snapped back to reality by Rossi calling my name.

I gave a tight and quick smile, returning to the topic at hand and tactics to catch the unsub. But of course not before Emily gave me a crooked smile, resulting in me rolling my eyes.

“Physically, she’s nothing special, most likely a mundane appearance or one with quite obvious surgical changes. No in between. Check all of the plastic surgeon offices in the area for both employees who fit our description, as well as a patient who has gotten any serious facial mod operations. Do the same for any weekend volunteers at local zoos and animal sanctuaries, specifically working with any insects.”

It was an NYPD officer then that spoke up this time, raising her hand briefly.

“But, you still haven’t mentioned how she’s killing them?”

“Hypnosis.” Reid and I both spoke at the same time. He looked to his black Converse, sliding his hands into his pockets. I observed the room and all of the skeptical faces filling it.

“Even if it may sound far fetched, we saw no signs of anything that indicated a struggle or even any marks or wounds. This led us to believe that some form of hypnosis was used to allow her an easy kill. This means extra caution will have to be taken when actually handling the unsub. Even though we’re positive she’s using hypnosis, which method she is using to actually kill them after the fact is what we’re unsure of.”

I turned to Spencer, handing off the explanation to him.

“We think that because of her whole thing with symmetry, she wouldn’t want to disturb the natural state of the victims and their faces, even if she would do the same to her own.”

“Which means?” JJ asked, her blue eyes slanted and glossed lips left ajar.

“It means that the unsub wouldn’t want to leave any large marks like stab or gunshot wounds.” I nodded at Prentiss, who had made the assumption, confirming she was correct.

“With her presumed background in plastic surgery, we believe she was able to make small incisions that made no visible scars. We’re having the coroner look back over the bodies as we speak.”

“She drains the body’s blood 97% of the way before closing the holes up. What she does with the blood, we don’t know. Another Eddie Mays, perhaps.”

I looked over to Spencer, raising my brows at his comparison. He was quick to defend himself, shaking his hands left to right and mouthing “No” while simultaneously shaking his head the same way, something he seemed to be doing often as of late.

After we had finished consulting with any officers who had remaining questions, we branched off to conduct our own routine investigations. We found that the only thing they all had in common apart from the symmetrical faces, is that they all had visited the Central Park Zoo in the 24 hours before they were killed. We received a phone call from Garcia not long after we put together those pieces, being alerted that there was one girl who had, in her words, “Hit every mark there was to hit, sunshine.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

“Her name is Alessia Copelas, she works weekdays as a surgeon's assistant at Premier Cosmetic, and weekends at Central Park Zoo from 4-8 p.m.”

I smiled at the new info from the blonde bombshell known as Penelope, turning to Reid who was still looking at me quizzically.

“Alright, thanks babes, you’re the best.” I spoke into the phone, a comical “Mwah!” made from either side as we hung up.

He shook his head, keeping the odd look on his face.

“I swear, you guys have a weirder relationship than her and Morgan.”

I laughed, sliding my phone into my back pocket.

“Oh, please, Spence.” I gingerly placed a hand on his cheek, patting it twice.

“You’re just jealous.” I made a pouty face, letting my hand linger before walking off. “Come on, we’re going on a field trip.”

“Where to?” He asked, gripping the door frame, using it as leverage to swing himself closer to me. He took long and quick strides, catching up to me in no time.

“You like animals, right?”

———————

4 Days Earlier, Central Park Zoo, New York

As soon as we entered the zoo, our ears were filled with the sounds of the loud screeches of birds and monkeys alike. Reid covered his ears, cringing and making his displeasure known with an “Ahh!”

I smiled at his geeky behavior, admiring the animals in the enclosures. I paid special attention to a particularly impressive species of tarantula, leaning down to admire them. A few moments later I looked to my left and saw Spencer doing the same thing.

“Did you know that arachnids have asthma which is why they don’t run for extended periods of time, similarly to cheetahs?”

“Yes I did.”

His face scrunched up in an adorable manner, causing an involuntary giggle to fall past my lips.

“Well did you know that-“

“Ma’am?”

I turned to see a young woman with flaming red hair and a freckled face smiling at me, her green collared uniform top complimenting her eyes of a different shade wonderfully.

“Oh, hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

Her expression shifted to a more confused one, her smile not leaving her face.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Is there an Alessia Copelas that works here, maybe volunteers on the weekends?” Spencer asked, his puppy dog eyes immediately warranting a response.

“Yeah, she volunteers here, she seems nice. Is she helping with an investigation?”

“Well we think that she may have some part in a series of murders.”

Her smile disappeared this time, turning into a cement frown as panic flooded her body.

“Oh God, was she- Is she a killer? Have I been working with a killer for all this time? I mean, I never had any shifts with her but from what I heard I thought she was so sweet-“

“Look,”

Reid glanced down to her name tag that read “Lillian” before meeting her eyes. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his I’d picked up on.

“Lillian, we aren’t sure if she’s the killer we just needed to get a feel on her and get some information regarding her personal life.”

She started frantically nodding her head, more trying to convince herself she was okay rather than ourselves. I looked over her shoulder at some exhibits, thinking to myself how this would end up being a waste of our time if this poor girl couldn’t get a grip on herself.

I was soon proven wrong when I looked over to see a young girl wearing an identical uniform to Lillian, probably somewhere between 23 and 24. She had untamed chocolate locks with bangs that stopped just above the shoulder, blemishes covering her T-Zone, and a rounded face to go with it.

The cherry on top? Under her arm she carried a small enclosure with what appeared to be amarynthis meneria, the same butterflies found on the victims.

I tapped Reid on the shoulder once as discreetly as possible, catching his attention. I heard him mutter a small “Oh God” before he told Lillian to walk away calmly and quickly. She ignored his request, turning to look at Alessia, letting out a blood curdling scream and sprinting the other direction.

“Shit.” I cursed, beginning to walk towards Alessia, Spencer by my side. I smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. Reid spoke up as we got closer.

“Hello, do you by any chance-“

wham!

“Spence!” I exclaimed, reaching down to help him up from where he had fallen from being whacked by the 4’2 pyscho that was Alessia Copelas.

“Did she get away?”

I turned to see her gone, the only sign she was even here being the forming bruise on the Dr’s face.

“Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Reid, that was really stupid of me.” He shook his head, running his own hand over the raw skin.

“It’s fine, I would have done the same for you.” He looked up, and I wasn’t sure if it was my school-girl esque crush on him or the fact I just had another experience with a serial killer, but my heart was racing nonetheless.

————————

F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York, 1 Day Earlier

The stress levels in the room were high.

Despite our best efforts, several more bodies had been found, New York’s narcissists were in a state of panic, and the spirits of the BAU were down to say the least.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, looking at Hotch in disbelief.

He rolled his chocolate eyes, fanning the folder containing the new information we had gathered on Alessia.

“I wish I was, Y/n. She’s off the grid completely, her apartment is empty, phone and credit cards have been deactivated, and the surgeon’s office hasn’t heard from her for 5 days. And the media has decided to give her the name ‘Butterfly Baron’, so she’s probably been fueled even further. We need a new lead before she strikes again.”

I scoffed, standing up and pushing my chair away.

“This is unbelievable. How many times do we have to reinforce the idea to local PD! Especially when the unsub is a self absorbed psycho, do not give them a name! God, I really cannot fathom this.”

I reached up, letting my hair down from where I had messily thrown it up upon my arrival to work that morning.

I stormed out of the room, my heels clicking behind me. I ignored Hotch’s calling of my name, making my way to the closest restroom.

I went in, locking the door behind him. I ran my hands through my roots, tugging just enough to where it hurt.

Turning the water to the left all the way, I splashed it from the stream leaving the faucet on to my face. I scratched my fingernails against the skin, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

“This is all your fault, y/n.” I whispered at myself in the mirror, doing my absolute best to engrain the message in my brain. I had my head hung in shame when a knock rang out.

“Y/n?”

It was Spencer. My mind started going a million miles a minute, thinking about why he could be there. With my voice raised a few octaves, I tried to scrape up a response.

“I’ll be out in a few, Spence.”

It was quiet for a split second, leaving me to foolishly dance around the idea that he had left me to wallow in my sorrowful thoughts.

“Y/n, Hotch wanted me to check on you. Are you ok?”

My heart slightly sank at the idea that he might’ve just come to check on me because he himself was worried. I discarded the thought, bringing myself back.

“Y/n can you please answer me? If you don’t open the door I’m gonna send in JJ or Emily.”

I sighed, wiping under my eyes where my mascara had smudged, begrudgingly walking over to the door. Just as my hand landed on the silver handle, his voice that was constantly playing in my head echoed out once more.

“Y/n, please? I need to know you’re okay. I’ll come in there myself.”

A soft smirk graced my face as I turned the handle to reveal a worried looking Spencer.

“Y/n, oh God, you had me worried.”

He was quiet when he spoke and his hair looked messy, like he had been running his slender fingers through it in a stress filled state.

I sniffled, attempting to still keep back tears that were still threatening to spill.

“I’m alright, Spencer. Really, I’m fine.”

He gave me a small smile, his eyes meeting my own.

“I know, it’s just that when I had my Diludad problem,” he hesitated.

“I would lock myself in bathrooms to shoot up, and I know you aren’t having a problem like that but I just was worried about you- what are you doing?”

I cut off his rambling by throwing my arms around his middle. He tensed, but quickly melted. He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and my waist, laying his head on mine.

“Y/n, I promise you, you’re doing your absolute best to stop Alessia. We wouldn’t even be where we are right now if you hadn’t made the connections. Those deaths are not your fault.”

My tears finally began to cascade like a waterfall, staining his shirt.

“I know, but it’s just like it is all my fault! I could have paid closer attention, or-or, I could have went after her at the zoo, it’s all my fucking fault, Reid.”

I sobbed into his shirt, my hand gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. Like if I let go I would fall into a deep, deep, endless hole.

His hand on my waist moved up to cradle my head.

“It’s not, I promise you-“

He was cut off mid sentence by the ringing of his phone.

“I am so, so sorry-”

I pulled away, breifly touching under my nose with my wrist, then moving a hair behind my ear.

“Nope, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Our words almost had overlapped each other as we clambered to fight the tension that had risen. I closed my eyes, tilting my head up, thinking about how unprofessional yet intimate our previous position had been. How wrong, yet how right it felt.

I kept running the moment through my head, the feeling of his warm figure encasing mine on replay.

His phone call played as background noise to the film playing in my brain, his voice calming me to an extent.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Thanks, Morgan.”

He closed the phone with a snap, also snapping me out of my trance, putting the movie on pause.

“They’ve got a hit. Copelas was seen dropping by her old apartment.”

And for the first time since that Goddamn case had started, I smiled genuinely.

“Let’s go get her.”

————————

15 Minutes Prior, Central Park, New York

“Hotch?”

“Yes?” He looked back from where he was driving, following our lead in a rushed manner.

“What will we do if she...” I trailed off.

“Hypnotizes one of us?” He finished for me. I nodded solemnly.

The look on his face was conflicted and it took him a moment to come up with a response.

“We kill her before we have to kill one of our team members.”

He saw a look of uncertainty on my face and spoke up once more.

“And that’s an order.”

I nodded again, making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror. I fell back into my seat, closing my eyes briefly.

After a few more minutes on the road, we had arrived.

The doors all slammed to the SUVs, one after the other as we stepped out.

“The letter said that she would be here, somewhere here.”

The voice of Morgan was channeling through my earpiece, referring to the letter found at her apartment that she had left just for us.

“We ordered evac on citizens, correct?”

The unsure voice of JJ was also heard through the earpiece, her uncertainty quite unusual to hear.

“Yes, it was the first thing we did, Jayj.”

I whispered, a sly smirk from Spencer forming at my behavior.  

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

snap!

Our senses adapted, becoming dialed to 11 at the sound of a twig snapping under someone's feet.

“Was that you?” I mouthed to Spencer. He shook his head no and I silently cursed to whatever force was listening.

I nodded, which he then reciprocated, the pair of us slowly walking towards the source of the sound after he did.

“They’re going to remember me, I’ll go down in history.”

The voice was sing-songy and quiet, floating through the air. I took a shaky breath, continuing my steady pace.

My breathing momentarily halted soon after.

Different variations of “Oh my God”s, and loud gasps from almost everyone on the team flooded my ear canal at the horrifying sight in front of us.

Red. So much of it.

“Guys, I think we know what she’s been doing with the bodies’ blood.”

“No shit.” I muttered under my breath.

She was bathed in the blood, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Alright everyone, I want you to approach her as quietly as possible, Morgan, if you get the chance, corner her.”

Hotch’s voice was a stark contrast to her own, Derek’s response all the same.

—————————

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“But Agents, you still haven’t answered my question. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Alessia Copeleas, FBI, come on, get up, lets go.”

Derek’s voice was stern, not asking, but demanding that Alessia come with us.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that, Agents.”

She stood up abruptly, causing all of our weapons to rise. The sun reflected off of the silver metal of Reid’s gun, sparkling in a stunning way that caught me off guard.

We all were trying to act as if we were in total control of the situation, but we could tell that us nor Copelas really believed that. Her words were her weapon, and this was the one time where words could hurt, but sticks and stones had virtually no power.

“Take another step and we will have no hesitation to fire.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes.

“If you do, will I be famous you think? You think they’ll hear about me back home?”

Her curls softly blew in the wind, making her appear almost harmless, maybe even endearing, if it wasn’t for the hardening coat of human blood soaking her clothes and seeping from her skin.

“Is that what you want? The kids back home and everyone here to hear about you? You want ‘Butterfly Baron’ written on every billboard in Times Square, your picture painted in museums, films to be made in your honor?” Reid was the one who spoke up this time, his voice remaining strong. Her eyes shone with a sickening excitement at what he said.

“You want to be famous?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Too bad.”

My eyes widened, surprised at the detour the conversation had taken.

“What-what do you mean?”

“Please, the only thing people will hear about is a sad, boring little girl from a small town who killed to feel better about herself. They’ll forget about you in a week, who knows, maybe they’ll even grow an infatuation with your town, someone you went to school with may get as lucky as to catch their big break!” He laughed, while Alessia looked absolutely devastated.

“You? You’ll be a nobody.”

“That’s not true! I’ll go down in history, and they won’t! I’m the fucking butterfly baron for hells sake! All these people?” She gestured towards her field of bodies.

“You won’t remember their names, maybe not even their pretty faces, but me? I’ll live forever.”

Her nostrils flared and she strode over to Reid with purpose. The safety on my glock clicked off, but Spencer motioned for me to wait. So I did.

“You know, Agent-“

“It’s Doctor.”

This visibly agitated her even more as she started her sentence over again.

“Doctor, you have a beautiful bone structure. Absolutely perfect. Symmetrical, not to mention just flat out stunning.”

A glaze formed over Spencer’s honey eyes at her words. He lowered his gun momentarily before turning towards me, Copelas doing the same.

“And you, Agent. Wow. I feel like I’m in an art exhibit, you’re gorgeous. I think the Doctor man here would agree.”

As he lifted his revolver at me, the situation became all too real as I understood what was happening.

I either had to shoot the man that I was struggling to admit I was beginning to love, or died at the hands of the very same man.

Tears flooded my eyes, all safeties were turned down, and all guns were pointed at Reid.

“Spence, please.”

My voice was weak, something that seemed to bring Alessia lots of joy.

She laughed before talking again, commanding Spencer.

“Pathetic, really! Spence”, she mocked,“shoot her.”

“No!”

bang!

whack!

--------------------- 

Present Day, Somewhere In The Sky, The Jet

I opened my eyes from where I had been tackled to the ground by Hotch, surveying my surroundings to see Alessia laying on the grass, the source of her gunshot wound non-distinguishable from the previous blood on her body.

I looked to the right to see where Spencer had crumpled to, his frame bent in a discombobulated position.

“Spencer!” I cried out, crawling over to him like some sort of dog,

“What happened to him?”

“Y/n, he was going to shoot you-“

“I don’t care you should have let him!”

I cradled his head in my lap, allowing my pent up tears to fall.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snapped open for real this time, my mind calmed at the sight of Spencer sitting next to me on the couch, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me from my nightmare.

“Spencer! Sorry, was I too loud?”

He chuckled, gesturing to the rest of the sleeping plane around us.

“You’re fine, I wasn’t sleeping, I decided to reread ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for nostalgia purposes. And you weren’t that loud, you just looked like you were having a bad dream.”

I chuckled at the not-so outlandish idea in an attempt to diminish it from his mind and move on.

“I’m fine. But fun fact, I did have nightmares after reading ‘The Veldt’. Seriously, I don’t get how you can just reread Bradbury’s stuff all the time.”

The genius scoffed, starting a rant on how Ray Bradbury’s storytelling was just classic literature and deserved to be reread, thus successfully changing the topic as I hoped my statement would. Although soon after, he caught on much quicker than I would have liked him to.

“And not to mention, The Veldt alone could be seen as a forewarning to the 21st century and beyond, even Bradbury himself supported that interpretation-‘

I gave him a tired smile, enjoying his rambling like I always did.

“-and you totally just got me to change the subject.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna catch up.”

“Hey!”

He laughed as I rested my head on my hand, trying to fall back asleep.

“Really, I can tell those nightmares are bad. What’s going on?” He questioned, his tone empathetic and compassionate.

“It’s nothing, Reid. I just keep seeing in the park, when Alessia got shot and you-you got hurt but instead of getting up like you did in real life, you just…”

I trailed off, not wanting to relive the negative dream any longer for fear of the tears that were pricking my eyes escaping.

“It’s okay, that didn’t happen, I’m right here.”

He pulled me into a hug, allowing me to bury my head in the crook of his neck, his warmth consuming me once more, a sequel to the film from earlier.

“I know, but what if it hadn’t?” I asked as I pulled away.

He shook his head, reaching for his wallet.

“In this job, this course of work, we can’t focus on ‘what if’s’. In this job, we also get nightmares, all of us. It happens.”

He slid a picture over to me, it was of a happy family. The edges were worn from years of being carried, but the picture seemed loved.

“Gideon gave me that when my nightmares started. He told me about how those families we save everyday, and how that’s what makes what we do worth it. And I know you didn’t know Gideon personally, or the work on the specific case with that family, but I want you to have it anyway-“

I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck, attempting to speak despite being muffled by his fluffy sweater.

“Thank you, Spence. Truly.”

I smiled, and I imagined he was doing the same.

“No problem y/n. Anytime.”

I moved my legs over to be tucked underneath my arms, leaning into Reid. He wrapped his arm around me, also leaning in. We both managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the ride in our state of content, but not before he managed to sleepily call out my name.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“When we land do you wanna go on a date or somethin’?”

I smiled at him, separating from his form just long enough to see that beautiful face of his.

“Without a doubt.”

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I’M WAY TOO HAPPY WITH THAT LMAOOO but anyway chile- 

i don’t have some long ass paragraph to write this time omg wig, i’m just proud asf of my work for once (except for the zoo part ngl kinda didn’t like it😳) 

😛✨vibes✨ love u, xx hj

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #doctor spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler smut #IM SORRY FOR THE TAG WITH NO RELEVANCE TO THE FIC BFKEQL

[michellejackson]

Prompt by @xphrnzrjh 💞

Fandom: Druck

Pairing: Fatou Jallow/Kieu My Vu

Wordcount: 2434

Acquaintances to study partners to friends to lovers AU

Chapter one 

So, Kieu My never meant to go this far. Too bad she was a hopeless slash desperate romantic with horrible, horrible ideas which she just happens to be stupid enough to follow through with.

Being at school after hours wasn’t unusual, many would use the library and study rooms for homework or to work on group projects. So no, that wasn’t unusual. What was unusual however, was stealing keys from the teachers’ lounge, sneaking into the classroom reserved for the English class, finding the paper where the English teacher has partnered up the students for a future team project, stealing it, sneaking out, copying it, swapping around the names in a way that won’t be noticeable, sneaking back in and leaving the altered paper.

Kieu My could admit that that was an out-of-character move for her, but hey, it worked didn’t it? You might think, that’s kind of drastic, don’t you think? Well, yes, but also… let’s just start from the beginning.

-

Kieu My was about a week into the school year when she noticed her. She was skating around the schoolyard in khakis, a thin purple see-through sweater and a yellow and purple Hawaiian shirt, looking like she owned the place. The look really shouldn’t have worked, but it did, and she looked so damn good. The sight of her had stopped Kieu My in her tracks, forcing her to pay attention as she swiftly skated through the crowds of students until she stopped before a familiar blonde. Nora. Zoe’s sister. Interesting…

Later that day, during lunch, Kieu My tried her best to subtly ask Zoe about her sister’s friend, but she didn’t seem to catch on. Like at all.

“So... how’s Nora? She settling in okay? Got some new friends?” subtle, Kieu My, real subtle.

“Oh, she’s great! She got this new boyfriend, have you seen him? His name is Josh, and he is hot, seriously, wait let me show you a picture.” Turned out it was subtle. Too subtle.

“Oh, good for her, uhm, how about-”

“He’s just the sweetest guy, she’s really happy-” so she spent the next ten minutes looking at pictures of Nora’s boyfriend and listening to her best friend talk him up. Not the way she planned this lunch to go. Before she knew it, they parted ways and she was none the wiser.

She did contemplate asking Nora personally, but decided it would be weird considering she didn’t know her that well. So instead, she spent the rest of that day daydreaming. None of her classes got as much of attention as the skater did. How had she never seen here before? School had been in full motion for a week, and she hadn’t seen any traces of the girl before today, which would mean that they had zero classes together. Sigh.

The weekend was spent trying to find her on Instagram, which was a tedious job. First, she went to Zoe’s account to find Nora’s, which was easy enough, but as it turns out, Nora has a private profile, so she had to improvise further. She spent half an hour trying to remember her boyfriend’s name, and when she remembered that his name was Josh, she looked through the people Zoe follows to find him.

Bad news: Zoe doesn’t follow him.

Good news: Zoe did show her his photos on Instagram, which means he has an open profile.

Bad news: She had to actually find that profile.

Initially, she was going to just write in the name Josh and look through every profile Instagram recommended, but then she came to her senses and realized that that’s a shit idea. So, she logged into the school’s website and looked up the list of current students to go through until she found every single person named Josh.

And bingo. Josh Zimmermann.

Kieu My let out a cry of happiness when she finally found his profile but was again let down when she didn’t see any pictures of the girl. She knew this had been a longshot, but she was still disappointed.

So yeah, she gave up. She took her defeat with stride, and started look through Josh’s pictures, because let’s face it, she had nothing else to do. Maybe she’d find a comment left by the girl or something. Josh was cute, she’d admit. If she wasn’t so hung up on a girl she saw once for five minutes, maybe she’d spent more time admiring, but she was, so she didn’t.

She stopped scrolling when she landed on about the fifth picture Josh had posted of this one girl, a pretty brunette woman. The curiosity got the best of her, so she clicked on her tag. Her name was Yara, and her profile was filled with pictures of her with Josh, and some other girls. Her heart skipped a beat. She had a picture with Nora and another brunette. She was friends with Nora.

She quickly scrolled down her profile, continuously looking for the skater girl. She found it almost at the bottom. The picture was taken from the side, but it was without a doubt her. She was wearing glasses and had white locks in her hair, and she was holding a tortoise in her hands. The caption read “meet Maike” . It took an embarrassingly long time before Kieu My realized that Maike was the name of the turtle, and not the skater girl, but let’s not dwell on that.

Yara, bless her soul, had tagged the girl. Kieu My was in such a rush to click on the tag, she accidentally liked the picture. A picture from four months ago. The only picture of Fatou on Yara’s profile that was posted four months ago. She’d liked it. She wished she could say that she unliked it right away, but she was frozen for so long she was sure Yara had gotten the notification. Well, better late than never, right?

She unliked the picture as she cursed herself, and proceeded to click onto Fatou’s profile, which of course, was private. But she wasn’t mad, nor that disappointed, because she had a name now. Her name was Fatou. She’d found her! Fatou. Fatou.

She went back to the list of students.

-

Fatou Jallow. She continuously spun the name around in her head in English class the following Monday, she’d chosen a window seat this time, which she looked out of while daydreaming yet again.

So when someone sat down next to her, with a quick hello, she was startled to say the least. She was even more startled when she looked up to see the girl. The skater girl. Girl of her daydreams. Fatou. Fatou Jallow.

She just looked at her, in shock mostly, did she just manifest this? Is she starting to have visions now? Is she going crazy? And while Kieu My came up with a hundred reasons to how this could’ve happened, Fatou seemed to shrink under her gaze, seemingly backing off. Wait, no, no, no, no. Goddamn resting bitch face.

She was just about to speak up when the teacher clapped his hands, demanding attention as he started the class, and she was left looking like an asshole. She would’ve physically banged her head into the table if that wouldn’t turn Fatou even more off her.

“And you must be Fatou, nice of you to finally show up-”

Five seconds ago, Kieu My wouldn’t be so sure that Fatou could get any smaller, but the teachers comment seemed to make her especially uncomfortable, and Kieu My found herself wanting to chop his head off. Respectfully.

But Kieu My didn’t say anything, she never did, and she always cursed herself for it. Instead, she found herself looking at Fatou’s hands, placed on the desk next to her. She was fumbling with her thumb ring, which was yellow, and while focusing longer on it, Kieu My realized it was a mood ring. She had half a mind to whip out her phone right then and there to look up the different colors and their meanings, but instead made a mental note to do that later.

“Kieu My? Are you paying attention?”

Her head whipped up as the teacher said her name, and she blushed as she looked to Fatou who had clearly noticed where her focus was as the teacher called her name. The girl displayed a knowing smile, and instead of looking bashful as she did before, she almost looked a little smug. Her ring had turned into a blue-green color and Kieu My’s blush deepened as she caught herself looking at her hands once again.

She just nodded to the teacher, willing him to move on.

“So, as I was saying, I’m pairing you up to work on a project that’s due at the end of the month. You and your partner will be tasked to pick a classic work, rewrite it, and then perform it in front of the class. Got it? Great. Before anyone asks, you will not get to pick your partner, I have already paired everyone up randomly-” he pulled out a paper from under the desk, quickly displaying it before putting it back into the drawer. Fatou groaned and Kieu My rubbed her forehead, already hating this assignment.

“You’ll get more info on Wednesday, but if you go onto page 16-”

Kieu My made sure to pay extra attention to the rest of the class and when it was over, she had almost forgotten about the girl next to her.

That was a lie, she didn’t forget, quite the opposite actually, but she wasn’t about to flaunt that. She took her time packing up her stuff, seeing if Fatou would try to talk to her. She couldn’t be sure if Fatou had left yet, seeing that Kieu My had used up all of her will power to not look her way, but when she’d finished packing up all of her stuff and went to leave, she could see Fatou spending even more time than her to pack her bag.

Fatou looked up from her bag when she finished, smiling at Kieu My. God, she had a beautiful smile. As she stood up to leave, she looked into her eyes and said, “too bad we can’t pick our own partners” . Kieu My doesn’t remember how she reacted, all she remembers is the heat taking over. However, the way she’d reacted had seemed to delight Fatou though, who grinned at her as she left the classroom.

At lunch she sat with Ismail, Zoe being off somewhere with Finn. Kieu My didn’t say much, her mind somewhere else, but that didn’t stop Ismail from talking their head off. As they were talking, Kieu My was only half listening while looking up mood rings on her phone. She looked through different type of mood rings until she found one that looked like Fatou’s, and quickly found the color chart.

So, it seemed like her mood ring consisted of seven main colors, black, gray, yellow, green, blue-green, blue and violet. She thought back to this morning, and what colors Fatou’s ring had been.

At first it had been yellowish, when Kieu My had accidentally blown her off with her deadpan. Okay, yellow; “nervous, mixed emotions, unsettled”. Great. She had unsettled her. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she reminded herself that mood rings weren’t necessary correct. She’d get a chance to fix it, it was fine. It’s fine.

“and you have English with Mr. Strauss, too right? That paired up assignment is already enough for him to be my least favorite person in the world-”

“yeah, and we can’t even pick partners…” Kieu My adds absentmindedly, just to keep them going. She thinks about what Fatou had said, and her smile.

The second color she’d seen on her finger was blue-green, after she’d caught her staring at her hands. Kieu My cringed at herself just thinking about it. Blue-green; “inner emotions, charged, somewhat relaxed” hmm…

“Right?! What an idiot. God, I swear, we should break into the classroom and swap the papers or something…” Ismail joked with a laugh. This got her attention though. She looked up from her phone as Ismail just kept on rambling, further joking about hacking into the school system or something, but she again wasn’t paying attention, because now she was stupid enough to form an even stupider plan.

-

And that’s how she ended up here. Broken into the classroom, swapping the papers. It seemed like a bad idea when she thought about it after Ismail had said it, and now that she’s doing it, she knows it’s an even worse one than previously imagined.

Kieu My wasn’t one to speak up when she wasn’t called for, or to do anything that would incriminate her, so to say that her hands were shaking and that she was freezing cold out of her own skin was an understatement. She cannot afford to be expelled. But the worst was over now. On the way out she didn’t even bother to drop the keys off where she found them, she was too scared to, so she simply dropped them right outside of the teachers’ lounge and didn’t stop running before the school was too far away to see.

That following Wednesday Kieu My was so paranoid and so sure that she would be found out. When the time for English class came around, she seriously contemplated skipping class for the first time ever. She didn’t though, but she purposefully came just a little late so that the teacher wouldn’t have time to speak to her before class. She was freezing and her hands were shaking.

When she entered the class, the only seat available was the same she sat in last, and she was confused at first, because Fatou sat at the same place at last too. Not the window seat, but the one next to it. She hesitated towards the seat, not sure if it was held off for someone or something, but when Fatou saw her she smiled. And Kieu My melted onto her seat.

The class was surprisingly uneventful, and towards the end she found herself relaxing. Or that was until the teacher decided to announce the partners. As he went through the list, she didn’t blink once.

“Kiey My and Fatou-” …he didn’t even flinch. Kieu My waited just a little longer before letting out a huge breath. Oh my god. He didn’t even notice.

She looked to Fatou, who was already looking at her, smiling.

This time Kieu My smiled back.

#druck #please this is so chaotic idek #read this with a grain of salt #or like a lot of it #kieutou #fatou x kieu my #druck fic #kieutou fic #druck fanfic

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Carnival of Hearts (Part 2/6) ~ Bucky x Reader College!AU

A/N: Hi lovelies! Hope you’re all doing well! So good news! I’m pretty sure I’m going to be able to do regular updates for this fic. The plan is for weekly updates on Fridays at 12 PM EST. I will let you know if I can’t do it though. For now enjoy! 

This is my entry for @buckysknifecollection​ ‘s 3k Follower Challenge. Congrats on the milestone lovely! Go check out the blog. Personal fave is Hush (a must read if you’re into soft!Biker!Bucky)

Prompt: Our friends set us up on this carnival date but we’re both pining after someone else and this a bit awkward

Summary: When you’re set up on a carnival date with Bucky Barnes NOTHING turns out the way you expected.

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Word count: 1916

Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist 

After six outfit changes, you were finally satisfied with your appearance. The red wrap shirt was your favorite, your jeans hugged just right, and you were rocking your favorite white converse. The last touch was to clip in a white hair flower just behind your ear before declaring yourself ready.

Steve was on set up duty so he had already been at the fair grounds for hours and Natasha was meant to meet you there after her shift at the coffee shop, so you grabbed your backpack purse and headed out, cautiously optimistic for the day ahead. You paced back and forth a little ways away from the ticket booth as you waited for your friends and your date.

Your phone buzzed in your hand as you checked the time again.

Nat: Coffee shop got slammed last minute. Going to be a while. Sorry. Just go meet Bucky and Wanda.

“Wonderful,” you muttered.  

You could go meet Bucky and Wanda if you had either of their numbers. You were about to text Nat and ask her to pass the info along when your phone buzzed twice. One from Steve and one from an unknown number. You opened the latter.

Unknown Number:Hi this is Bucky. Wanda is running late so she said for me to just meet you and Natasha.

You rolled your eyes, but snapped a quick selfie and responded.

Y/n: I'm by the ticket booth. Red shirt and a white flower in my hair. Just me though. Nat’s late too.  

Bucky: Be right there!

He responded with a selfie of his own.

"Y/n?"

You turned at the shout of your name. Bucky shot you a shy smile and a small wave, wading through the crowd of people.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you.” He stuck his hand out.

“Nice to meet you too, Bucky.”

“Sorry, I’m late. I was technically on time, but I was waiting for Wanda.”

“No problem at all.”

He had a kind smile and it eased the knot of tension in your stomach, though an awkward silence stretched between you. It broke when you both laughed.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never been on a blind date before,” you admitted, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth.

“That makes two of us. But,” he continued before the conversation could lapse again. “I have been to a lot of carnivals with friends in my time.”

You clung to the lifeline.

“Well that we have in common. Although-” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I did just meet you so I’m not sure we can be called friends yet.”

Bucky put both hands up to concede the point.  

“Well let’s start with the carnival part and we’ll see the friendship comes naturally.”

“I can work with that.”  

Bucky bought an armload of tickets and the two of you entered the fairgrounds. Happy screams from the roller coaster mixed with ride music, and you were practically vibrating with excitement.

You grabbed a map from the information booth, smiling at Hope who was manning it.

“Enjoy the carnival!”

“Thank you!”

You huddled out of the way of the hoards of people, carefully surveying the map.

“Now, what I have learned over the years, is that there are two types of people. Ones who plan their carnival route. And chaos entities who cause their friends to miss their favorite rides.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I sense some bitterness there.”

Bucky chuckled and shrugged but didn’t elaborate.  

“Well, I’m certainly not a chaos entity.”

“Excellent. So where should we start?”

“R.C.F.A.”

“Excuse me.”

“Roller coasters first always.”

“A girl after my own heart. Any rides that are a hard no?”

“Not a one,” you announced proudly. “But don’t let me eat before any spinny ones.”

“Noted. Okay, then.”

Bucky scanned the fairgrounds trying to track the flow of the crowd.

“It looks like the tilt-a-whirl has the shortest line.”

“Ooh and it’s right next to the two best coasters,” you pointed to the cluster of rides on the map.

“Then we’ll start there. And then we can follow the circuit back to the food area for lunch.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go!”

Unable to contain your excitement any longer you grabbed his hand and dragged a laughing Bucky through the crowds.  

“So what happened to Nat?” he asked as you waited behind a group of middle schoolers.

"Stuck at work. Cafe got slammed last minute. Wanda?"

"She was getting a haircut and they were running an hour late.”

You poked your tongue into your cheek. Bucky voiced what you had been thinking.

“Do you smell a setup?"

You let out the laugh you’d been holding back. "Oh yeah. I mean technically both of those are real things that could happen, but…”

“Yeah, it seems a bit suspicious.”

“I should have known Nat would weasel out of her end of the bargain."

"Bargain?" Bucky asked.

You inhaled through your teeth and offered him an apologetic smile.

"It may have taken a bit of convincing to get me to go on this date."

“What were the terms of this deal?”

You counted them on your fingers.

“We would meet as a group. I had a guaranteed out at lunch time. And she wouldn’t set me up for the rest of the semester. It wasn’t anything against you. I promise,” you explained.

He waved off your concern.  

“Trust me I took a similar deal. But you were smarter than I am. I should have gotten the no meddling clause in there.”

You exhaled a laugh, relieved you hadn’t offended him.

“Well now you know for next time.”

“True. Though based on how Wanda talked about you there won’t be a next time because you’re supposedly exactly what I need.”

"Nat gave me the same speech. Think they practiced?”

“Probably,” he snorted. “She says you're perfect for me. So my expectations are high just FYI.”  

"That’s fair. Personally, mine are astronomical,” you replied in a haughty tone.  

“I guess we’re both in for disappointment then.”

“Not so far at least,” you admitted with a sly smile that he returned as you were strapped into the tilt-a-whirl.

The line for your first roller coaster was longer than you anticipated, but Bucky kept you entertained. He questioned you on your taste in movies and TV shows which led to an in depth debate of the character arcs in Supernatural. In the next line you discussed Bucky’s favorite book which happened to hold a special place in your heart.  

 When you stopped for snacks -cotton candy for him and watermelon slush for you - you were comfortable enough to tease him.

“So, did you find Insta-stalking me last night helpful in preparing for this date?”

Bucky’s cheeks went red despite his best efforts to appear nonchalant.

“Pfft. I didn’t Insta-stalk you.”

“Oh, so it was a different JBBarnes317 who liked the picture of me moving into my dorm Freshman year.”

“I…” he hung his head, peeking at you through his long hair. “Okay so maybe I did. I tried really hard not to, but I was really nervous and I thought maybe if I knew something about you we could avoid a lot of awkward pauses. Sorry.”

You shook your head and patted his knee.  

“Don’t be. I had been arguing with myself all night. And when I saw that you liked my photo I totally caved. It was honestly a relief. Though I’ve got to say that your profile picture on Facebook does not do you justice.”

“Well I only change my profile picture if it’s a leap year.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You tilted your head with an incredulous laugh.

“I have nothing to say to that. Are you serious? If so, why?”

He snorted at your expression.

“No. I just haven’t spent more than like ten minutes on Facebook since I was seventeen. I don’t even know why I have it any more.”

“That’s fair.”

“Well, since I’ve been exposed. I’ve got to ask. How far did you row yourself in the moving cart?”

“About 500 feet before I hit a bump and nearly pole vaulted myself out of said cart.”

“That was the funniest video I have ever seen. And I’m kind of mad I never thought of it.”

“There’s always move out.”

“I don’t live on campus. So no yellow carts for me when I move out. Just lots and lots of boxes.”

“Bummer. You can always help me move out!” you concluded triumphantly.

“Let’s see how the rest of the date goes before I agree to that,” he laughed. “But maybe.”

You smiled at the implication before returning the conversation at hand.

“Are you in an apartment then?”

“Yeah. It’s a really nice two bedroom about ten minutes from campus.”

“I assume two bedroom means roommate?”  

“Yes. Sam. He and I got randomly roomed together sophomore year, but it actually ended up being the best thing to ever happen. He’s my best friend. I can’t imagine living with anyone else. We thought we were going to have to get a third roommate, which would have been a bummer, but luckily we were able to find a place for just us.”

“That sounds ideal. I’m lucky because my scholarship pays for housing, but honestly I would kill to have a full kitchen again.”

“Or you could just ask nicely.” He smirked. “Do you like cooking?”

“No, I am a mediocre cook at best. But I love baking.”  

Bucky’s eye glittered.

“Well then you’re definitely invited to use my kitchen.”

“Let me guess. Payment in baked goods?”

“It seems fair.”

“It does. Do you cook a lot.”

“I can manage. But Sam’s an amazing cook. I keep telling him he’s in the wrong career path.”

There was a hint of frustration in his tone.

“What’s he studying?”

“Business. He plans to open and manage restaurants. Says it’s the smarter path. Which like I get it. But man, the look he gets in his eye when he makes a good dish. He just lights up the whole room. I mean he usually does just by being there, but this. It’s pure joy. It makes you excited to try his food. Even if you hate the ingredients. I just don’t want him to lose that. It makes him special.”

“He sounds pretty amazing.”

“He definitely is,” Bucky sighed, before shaking himself slightly. “But he has his flaws. Like, he likes to run. Every morning.”

“I’ve got one like that too. Steve gets up at the crack of dawn every morning. He’s even in the running club.”

“Sam is too.”

“Really? Huh. I wonder if they know each other.”

“They must. There can’t be that many people who willing give up sleep to run.”

“I swear it’s an illness.”

“Agreed. But I do get fresh muffins out of the deal. Steve always brings me my favorite. This summer, we lived together and he’d wake me up after his shower and we’d eat on our little balcony before work and it was perfect.”

“Sam and I eat on the roof sometimes and he always brews the best cup of coffee. He even manages to time it so it’s at the perfect temperature when I get to the kitchen. He may have magic powers.”

“We’re really spoiled aren’t we?”

“I think we are the appropriate amount of spoiled.”  

You both laughed as you tossed your trash and continued on your way.  

A/n: I hope you enjoyed and I’ll see you next week (hopefully)

Tag lists are open (Please send an ask) I am removing all tags that don’t work after three failed attempts. 

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[poison--ivory]

Get back Up Chapter 4

The bits of his nightmare are still fresh in his thoughts and lingered on his mind. The black holes of what should be eyes strangled him without him even touching his body.

His mind started playing false scenarios of this nightmarish creature in different scenarios. He imagined going to sleep and being startled awake. Coming to the realization of not being able to move, paralyzed from head to toe. Trying to thrash himself around to get his body to react to any of his muscle spasms. The suspicion of an unknown entity within his room made him feel uneasy and if he could just flinch awake and scope the area out the feeling would simmer down and slowly go away.

His first mistake in this scenario was to blink. That's all it took was a quick closing of the eyes and a single second for that suspicion to grow into terror. A misty shadow from the corner of his eye darted across the room and disappeared into the darkness. Having anything in your room while you slept would cause anyone to feel restless. Next he closed his eyes again and the shadow rushed right beside his bedside. He made out features on its face and body, nonetheless the eyes and the mouth threw him off. Its mouth was too far stretched out causing skin to peel and the teeth didn’t make this any better. Sharp enough to cut wood without breaking or even cracking. But, it’s eyes are what tie it together. Beady, cloudy, white eyes peered through black sludged sockets. His mouth slowly shifts with each calm breath and the insufferable, rotten smell of his heated breath blowing down at his face. The stench of bad meat filled his airways and the contact of the creature's saliva slid down his forehead and slowly made contact with his ear. He knows it's just a dream, but it feels too real to be anything near it.Then soon after he’d arched his back up to and the creature seemed to be gone. Thereafter he had the troubles of trying to fall back asleep again. But, the feeling of someone still in the room with him staring daggers into the back of his head caused him to flip over to gaze at the wall. The little kid in him would come out at that point and would try to justify to itself that curling up underneath the thick, warm blankets would keep him safe.

This scenario was the most unsettling when he thinks about it. The others are subpar at best when compared.

Anthony couldn’t speak, it was like his mouth, his tongue to be more specific swelled in his throat and was expanding with each second passing. He took huge gulps of air in to make sure his esophagus was working. That hellish nightmare still had him drench in cold sweat, harsh chills rolled up and down his spine and he couldn’t fight that image from his night terror out of his thoughts. He can still feel the searing hot flesh of the beast’s gaping jaw swallowing half his body before snapping down on his waistline. He still hears the breaking of his spinal cord and the gushing noise of fresh blood hitting the cramp space walls and the warm feeling of liquid escaping his nostrils and mouth, overflowing and consuming his airway passages. He’d be lying right now if he didn’t feel a little bit of pain in his chest. The painkillers worked miracles on his body. But, they didn’t stop the constant panging of discomfort still in his chest cavity.

He officially loathes whatever creature (Y/n) married. Anthony really doesn’t want to admit to it, but this peculiar man petrified him. He could already feel the bile rising and burning his windpipe. The acidic fluid rose up and out of instinct he swallowed, his old man always hated it when he couldn’t make it to the toilet on time. That and it’s pretty disgusting cleaning up partially digested food out between the fibers of a carpet. The only thing that would come up at this point would probably be the tea he drank earlier.

The only thing stopping him from spilling his stomach acid on the tile floor was the fact (Y/n)’s children were staring at him, they had just shoveled food down their gullets and he didn’t want to start a puke fest. Even though it would be hilariously gross to freak out little kids. He still wanted to hang onto the last strain of dignity he had left and little kids came up with the worst nicknames that could shrivel his ego down into size.

“Are you. . . okay, Tony?” Her mellow aura consumed his disquiet appearance. She lightly held his hand and guided him over to the table situating him in her seat, taking her half finished plate with her as well. “Are you hungry, because we still have some eggs and bacon left. I can make you a small plate, if you want?” She was already reaching for a clean plate before he could even form a complete sentence. He ignored the stare of the beast’s harsh gaze.

While (Y/n) focused on piling his dish and the man sitting across from him stared him down. Anthony glanced over at the children. The two older kids sitting diagonal from him looked very similar and were talking in a language he really couldn’t describe. They both had pretty long hair and shockingly similar side profiles, eye shape and lip shape. The girl and boy took more after their mother in both features and energy.

The other kid was amazingly small to the other two. The tiny child peered up at him through bang covered eyes like he felt him staring at him. Now that he's thinking about it he recognized this kid as the child from the couch earlier. He was much smaller on closer inspection. He has a decent size beauty mark on the left side of his face underneath his chestnut brown eye. His hair style is nearly the same as his fathers, although he found it cute on this kid from the latter. This kid seemed to be very docile, hugging a small pastel green pillow, snuggling it up against his face and chest. On closer inspection of the petite child he noticed the really far away blank look in the boy’s eyes. Kind of like a dead goldfish.

His thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched voice.

“You're very weird looking, ya know.” The older boy spoke up a smirk pulling on the corners of his mouth.

If he could slap a kid and get away with it he would do that in this moment.

“That’s what Sage told me earlier when we snuck in to see you, he also said your legs look like chopsticks.” He shoved his face deeper in the soft material, still gazing directly at him. He hasn’t blinked yet the small bright red veins proved that.

“Well, I’ll have you know that many people find me attractive.” The two young boys raised inquisitive eyebrows at the older man then laughed. “What the hell are you two short stacks laughing at?”

“Your dialect it’s very funny.” The girl chimed in, gazing up from her pile of eggs she’s been picking at since he sat down. “You usually hear your type of voice on cartoon shows.”

“Excuse me for having such a great voice.”

“Yeah, a great voice to keel over to.” The older boy laughed harder. “Ya sound like a cartoon mob boss.”

“Mmh, really funny sounding.” The girl chimed in.

At this point he just really wanted to eat whatever (Y/n)’s puts in front of him and just go back to sleep, again. Her children were a prick on his dick and the total opposite of what he expected would come from between her legs. Well, they do have half of the demons genes in them and would explain why the youngest seems so weird and the other two to be. . . themselves.

(Y/n) strided back over her hips swayed from side to side and she sat a hot plate of eggs and sausage down next to him. She smiled at him before returning back to the sink, not before getting a harsh slap on the ass from the bastard, clashing dishes filled the kitchen’s already noisy room.

Anthony could feel the saliva build up in his mouth as he took in the savory smell of seasoned meat and eggs meeting his nostrils. He must have looked like a slob heaping large amounts of egg into his gaping jaw. It’s been awhile since he’s had a nice meal, he’s usually used to small snacks and the strict health regimen that Val put him on. Even when eating with Cherri it was usually something unhealthy or a quick to go item before he performed on stage.

He was so enamored with the food he didn’t even see the man sitting at the other side of the table rise until he heard giggling. He looked up for a split second before hurriedly turning his head back to the plate. Anthony really didn’t want to see two people kiss especially when he’s eating. Like those high school couples who makeout in the doorway of a classroom, well at least it’s in their home and not causing a problem. But, right now he didn’t want to up chuck what he just ate.

“See you after work my dear,” Another smooch could be heard then he sauntered over to the three kids. Lightly pecking his daughters cheek before ruffling his two sons heads. “Be good for your mom and be nice to our guest while he’s here. We don’t want anything unseemingly happening while he’s in our caring hands.”

They probably didn’t hear it or just ignored the way he phrased the word, but Anthony sure did. Like he planned to do other things to him while he stayed here. Before he could fully make eye contact with the beast itself the man already was walking out into the corridor leading to the front door.

A minute later he could hear the jingling of keys scraping against glass and a door opening and slamming shut. Silence took over the room and he noticed that the two older kids finally stopped laughing. Their breathing slowed down for a bit before they continued their onslaught of giggling.

The dead eyed child was staring at him again. It annoyed him more than it scared him. The young boy blinked a few times before he shoved his small face into his pillow not bringing his head back up.

Anthony mustered up a small chuckled and returned to his plate eating every last piece. He was sensible enough to actually walk his plate over to the sink that would be a lot more helpful, but he’s mostly doing it to squeeze more info from (Y/n).

How the hell did someone like her end up in a relationship with that monster. She has to know some weird secrets about this guy. Or at least tell him how she got stuck in this marriage.

Anthony set his plate off to the side of her, she smiled at him nodding her head before placing the next dish in the drying rack. “So. . . your face is telling me that your brain has a lot of questions for me.” A smirk graced her features, he hated that she could read him like a book. Her wet hands dried themselves on her sweatpants, “Can you guys go play upstairs, while mommy talks with Mr. Anthony.” The two older kids left without question like this were trained into their brains. But, the youngest seems to sit firmly in his chair not even budging an inch or showing any choice of leaving. His intense gaze focused in on (Y/n), she heaved a big sigh picking the small child up and sat down with him. The pillow was quickly forgotten by the small boy as he wrapped his thin arms around his mother.His short legs hung lifelessly on both sides while his arms latched on for dear life around her neck and shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind the extra passenger. We also have to make this quick. I have to edit some papers of mine before the due date.” She managed a meek smile.

“No, I don’t mind.” Anthony glanced back at the small child and the deadlock grip he had on her. “He’s a real mama’s boy, huh.” He smirked.

“He doesn’t like being left alone.” She pushed the boy up further to situate him in a better position, a loud roar of thunder broke the short silence. Making the small boy gasp in shock and burying his face deeper into her neck. “So, you have some questions you want me to answer, right?”

“Yeah, how the hell did you end up with him!” He exclaimed.

“Didn’t I already tell you this earlier or are the meds warping your brain.”

“No,I remember but, I want the full story this time. From beginning to end with no holes.”

(Y/n) paused, her facial expression going dead for a moment before coming back to life and she smiled sweetly at him.

“I’ll tell you the whole story, Toni. But, it’s pretty long and kind of weird now that I think about it.” The kid in her lap settled down on her lap nicely like a small cat or a non hyper dog. “So, buckle in because I’m going to tell you quite a story.”

Anthony situated his back further in the wooden chair, his gaze solely focused on her and only her. Strong yet such kind eyes stared back at him and he could see why someone would fall for her. A forced swallow of air down his windpipe left a weird aftertaste in his mouth.

Releasing a big sigh he nodded over at her to continue, “I’m ready.”

The little boy turned his head around address his presence,"Just tell the story, mama."

"I'm going to give me a minute I'm trying to think of good starting mark." Her eyes lit up with her smile as she stared me down. "Well if I had to start the story off at. I guess I have to start it at a small cafe over a order of venison."

#hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel human au #human au #human angel dust #human alastor #alastor being a jerk #alastor being alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel

[firemblem-fics]

Running With the Wolves [2]

<< | >>

-> Pairing: Yuri x Fem!Reader

-> Gang!Au | Modern!Au | Enemies to Lovers

-> Word Count: 2.4k

-> Warnings: Blood, Violence, Cursing, Angst, Crack

-> Summary: You were just a normal college student, trying to find her way in a new place. You didn’t mean to get caught up in the wrong crowd. You just wanted coffee, but now you’re running with the wolves.

-> A/N: okok i know this is a lot shorter than the last chapter BUT y’all already heard my struggle with it so i’m actually kind of happy with this and liked where it ended. i’m sorry it’s boring, i think this was just a chapter where i do some introductions and go further into characters and a teeny bit more into the world of the gangs idk more info in later chapters because reader will NOT suddenly get a huge info dump of shit - also i hope you all like my two oc’s in here!

if you’d like to be put on the taglist, send me an ask or a message!

“Run.”

In that second, Yuri began firing shots at your pursuers again. Hapi gave her gun to Balthus, who began using both his and her pistols to keep them back as well. She turned and grabbed your arm- the same one that was bleeding before recoiling.

“Who hurt you?”

“Yuri dragging me around.”

Hapi scoffed and reached for the other arm, leading you out the back door and into a small white car. She cranked the engine and backed out before you could even get buckled, narrowly missing a larger black van parked beside it. You held onto the door frame, your fingers turning white as Hapi whipped the car down a smaller, empty street.

“Why are you driving like a fucking lunatic?”

“They could easily follow us! Look behind, do you see anything?”

You turned as well as you could as Hapi made another sharp turn. “No, there’s nothing behind us.”

She slowed the car just a little bit. “Keep checking. We don’t need someone knowing where we’re going.”

You stayed turned in your seat, heart jumping out of anxiety every time you saw a random car or person pass by. “My home is the other way.”

“Wh- Oh, honey, no. They think you’re a part of us, you can’t go home.”

“What? Why not? I could just explain to them what I was doing- they’ll understand-“

“No, they won’t.” The redhead leaned her head back against the seat and bit back a sigh before mumbling to herself. “We weren’t even involved in their little spats with the other places. Why the hell would Edelgard come after us?”

You checked back one more time. “Didn't she say something about how ‘she’s the boss now’? Whatever it’s about, it’s because she’s apparently in charge or whatever. I- I just want to go home.” Your nose burned as tears filled your eyes, but you willed them to not fall. Hapi would definitely be the kind to make fun of you.

You thought back to the others- Yuri, Balthus, and Constance. Ellie had said that they were just some random college kids, making money to get by. Obviously they were more than that.

“What about the others? We just left them there.”

“They’ll be fine. They’ve had their fair share of fights. We’ll meet them back at the house.”

You could only nod and try to soothe your shaking body. Your arm still burned from the wound, but you didn’t want to look at it. Knowing the severity of it would only make it hurt worse.

Eventually, Hapi pulled into a normal looking house. It seemed inconspicuous, with a fraternity sign hanging out front to complete the “normal college kids live here” look. You shuddered. Things are not as they seem with these people, and their house for sure isn’t a normal one as well. Hapi got out of the car and scouted around it, searching the entire car before once again muttering to herself.

“... Can’t believe I forgot to look for a tracker-“

“Look who’s finally home! Hapis and- who’s this?”

Suddenly a loud, annoying voice shouted from the front door of the house. You looked up to see a new man, slowly putting down his waving hand as he saw you. From the top of the brick stairs, he looked quite tall, but as you continued to ascend, the shorter and shorter he became until he was scarcely a few inches taller than you.

“Hiram, this is Y/N. She was, uh, put in an unfortunate circumstance and had to come with us.”

His white eyebrows furrowed and he looked at Hapi confusedly before nodding. “Uh, yeah, okay. Come on in, then. Rhys is out getting takeout. What’s the circumstance?”

“Edelgard attacked the café.”

Hiram was still confused, but it was cut short as the same black van you saw earlier pulled into the open garage. Hapi motioned for the two of you to come inside, saying that Yuri would explain everything.

The house was more normal than you expected. The living room walls were painted a light blue with a couch surrounding the fireplace and a TV on top of it. The colors of that room contrasted greatly against the honey yellow walls of the kitchen, where everyone had gathered and sat at the table. You squeezed yourself between Hapi and Constance, the only other girls there.

“We should wait for Rhys-“

“There's no time.” Yuri scoffed at Hiram and leaned back on his chair. “Somehow, Edelgard took power from her father and is now the leader of the Black Eagles. I’ve yet to figure out what her plans are- attacking us, out of everyone possible- but I’m sure they aren’t good.”

You sighed and leaned against your arm, but stopped. You really, really needed medical attention for your arm. You also really, really needed to go home. You stood up.

“Okay, well, have fun with that. I’m out.”

Yuri laughed. “No, you’re not. Sit down.”

You whipped around to face him, your cheeks burning in anger. “I am! I’m going to leave this house, go to a hospital, fix my arm, and go home. I have no business here.”

You moved to leave again, but a pair of pale arms wrapped around you. One arm gripped your waist tightly as the other flicked out a knife, holding it against your neck. You tried to struggle, but the person- a tall man- tightened his hold even further. Yuri rolled his eyes.

“Easy with her, Rhys. You started having business here the minute you decided to open your stupid little mouth. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to shut up? To think rationally in the face of danger? Did you even realize the danger you were in, or are you really just that dense?” He sneered, walking towards you. “You, Princess, have gotten yourself into a Hell of a lot of trouble. You’re right, you shouldn’t be here, but now it’s time to reap what you sow.”

You grimaced at Yuri’s close proximity and spat at him, making him stumble back and wipe his face in disgust. This caused Rhys to lift your chin with the knife, pressing down enough to leave a small cut. A trail of blood dripped down to your collarbone.

“I suggest you learn to keep your mouth shut.” Hiram laughed almost maniacally from the table. “Rhysie’s silent but deadly. Don’t mess with us.”

Said man finally let you go, pushing you back to your seat, which you took with a huff. Constance handed you a tissue from the small pocketbook she carried and you thanked her, smiling wearily.

Hapi, who had stayed silent the entire time, coughed awkwardly. “So, what’s our next move?”

Yuri shrugged. “We’re no longer neutral, obviously. But we don’t know if the Golden Deer or the Blue Lions are on our side either. Edelgard had to have had a plan when she attacked us.”

The six others sat in thought for a minute while you, on the other hand, had never been more confused. “Wait, what’s even going on? Why do restaurants kill each other?”

Hiram giggled and plucked the bloody tissue out of your hand, beginning to mess with it and look at the new stains. “You’re tellin’ me that you really thought this was just some dumb restaurant rivalry? Hah! Sweetheart, we’re gangs. Y’know. Drugs. Illegal trades. Turf wars. The usual.”

You tried to put more pieces together. “So, Edelgard’s gang is the bad guys?”

“Exactly-“

“We’re not good. None of the gangs are. Our sins are irredeemable- we’re not the good guys. Edelgard’s people aren’t the bad guys. We don’t know what’s going on right now.” Hapi cut off Hiram.

Said man snorted and ran a hand through his ponytail. “Hey, Rhys, say fuck for me.”

Rhys’s freckled skin flushed a bright red and he avoided the eye contact of everyone around. “...I can’t.” He mumbled.

“See? Rhysie’s good.”

Hapi closed her eyes and suppressed a sigh again, and you wondered what was up with her and sighing. “The next move is to wait. Maybe do a little digging in their computers and communication, but that’s Hiram’s job.”

“We’ve got to figure out something for the rat to do.She can’t just sit here and be in the way.” Yuri mused. “Housekeeping, perhaps?”

“I am not a rat!” You hissed, “You are!”

The purple haired boy only smirked. “Whatever you say, Princess. Go upstairs to the first room on the left. There’s a big stack of manila folders with profiles on the desk. Bring them back down here.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up from your seat, practically stomping your way to the wooden stairs. Opening the first door on the left, you found the folders Yuri was talking about. You reached for them, but hesitated and looked out of the window beside the desk.

It would be so easy to leave, you thought, but jumping from this height would definitely lead to a broken bone.

You committed this room to memory and grabbed the folders, taking your time down the stairs to plan an escape route if needed. You were going home, whether they liked it or not, you decided. You were close to the bottom of the steps when a paper slid out from one of the folders. It was a profile with a rather familiar looking face on it.

Yuri Leclarc, It read, Age 24. Affiliation: Ashen Wolves. Family: Father (unknown), Mother (missing).

You heard footsteps walk through the living room and you quickly snatched up the paper, stuffing it in a folder before you finished reading it all. Hiram became visible, one hand carrying a large laptop and the other, a basket of cables and other equipment. He didn’t say anything to you. Instead, he barely spared you a glance as he walked back into the kitchen. You followed.

“Here.” You huffed and slammed down the folders. Hiram was busy plugging up different cords and routers to the computer, still completely ignoring your presence.

Yuri nodded and stood, sifting through the papers before landing on one labeled “Black Eagles”. He pushed the other folders to the side and opened that one. He laid out 8 profiles, all of people around your age. You could’ve sworn you’d seen some of them around campus, but you nearly vomited as your eyes caught one certain profile.

Ferdinand von Aegir.

“It’s up and running!” Hiram’s voice knocked you out of your stupor. “A piece of art, truly!”

Constance snorted. “A piece of shit, actually.”

Hiram ignored her comment and grinned, placing his hands on his hips proudly. “I call it the Computer of Chaos. COC for short.”

The silence in the kitchen was practically screaming.

Yuri looked up from the profiles. “The what?”

“The Cock, Yuri-bird. Didn't you hear him correctly?” Balthus nearly choked trying to hold in his laugh.

“Exactly! And it works for everyone here, you just have to say your name and it’ll unlock for you.” Hiram motioned for someone to give it a try.

Yuri still looked at the computer quizzically, but walked towards it nonetheless. He leaned down and said, “Yuri Leclarc.”

“Access Denied.”

“What?” Hapi questioned, pulling the computer toward herself. “Hapi.”

“Access Denied.”

“Ohhh, that’s right.” Hiram’s grin turned mischievous. “It only answers to the nicknames I gave you all.”

If looks could kill, Yuri would have committed a murder. He sighed heavily and violently moved the computer back to him. “Yuris.”

“Permission Granted.”

“Go die.” He growled at Hiram, who only laughed.

“What nicknames?” You had to ask, but regretted it once Hiram’s smile was directed at you.

“I add an -is to the end of everyone’s names! Yuris, Hapis, Constis, Balis, but I call Rhys ‘Rhysie’, he doesn’t tell me not to~”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t fucking talk, that’s why.”

“Can I have a nickname?” If you were going to be stuck here, you may as well make friends.

“Hmm,” Hiram pondered, “No.”

“Wh-“

So much for making friends.

Yuri interrupted the awkward moment by slamming his hand down on COC, making Hiram gasp in protest. “Fucking- Hiram, try to find something- anything- to find out Edelgard’s intentions. We had a neutrality pact, she shouldn’t have broken it.”

Your head was starting to hurt from the events today. Rubbing your temples, you stood up, making everyone look at you.

“Listen, I’m tired. I’m stressed. Is there like, anywhere I can sleep? I can’t do much more.”

Constance nodded. “I’ll take you up to the spare room!”

She led you up the stairs and past the room you had gone into earlier. Opening the door to one of the bedrooms, she gestured for you to enter.

“I’ll have to lock you in, but I’m sure you won’t mind. You’ll be sleeping, after all!” Constance smiled, “Goodnight!”

You waved back at her and waited for the click of the lock before turning on the lamp and peeling your sleeve away from your arm. You grimaced- blood had dried and caked around the wound, which was still slightly bleeding. You needed medical attention, but you didn’t blame the Wolves for not thinking about it.

They certainly were stressed- being previously neutral and suddenly attacked. They’ve got enemies now and you suspected that was something they haven’t had in quite a while. And then there was you, the epitome of ‘wrong place, wrong time’. Who would’ve thought that you’d end up accidentally in the middle of a gang war when you moved here? Certainly not you.

Guilt tugged at your stomach. These people were different from you. You didn’t belong here and you needed to get out of their hair. Yuri made it obvious that you stuck out like a sore thumb, unaware of what to do like they did.

You glanced at the window in the bedroom and stood up, making your way towards it. You could easily unlock it and risk an ankle injury. You’d already hurt your arm, it would be fine.

Your two choices were to try to survive a mob that wanted to kill you all, or get a foot injury while escaping and get back to your normal life.

Unlocking the latch on the window, and sitting on the edge, you had already made your decision. You jumped down and ignored a loud crack that resounded in your ankle, slipping into the depths of night.

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taglist: @fairyblue-alchemist @emperor-pizza @flavoredmilktea @sadies-stories-n-things @mifuyuyu @blviddyd @laurexlance @atomicchocolatecookie @mapesandoval @local-goth-lilz

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#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses x reader #x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #yuri #yuri x reader #yuri leclarc #yuri leclerc #yuri leclair #yuri leclarc x reader #yuri leclerc x reader #yuri leclair x reader #running with the wolves #au #gang au #modern au #enemies to lovers #series #fanfiction #lay writes

[brain-jarred]

Chapter 2 Pear

 After the operation that ended in the two scientists parting ways for a bit, Dr. Hal finally left his room. He glanced around and saw that Dr. Param was still laying their body on the chairs outside the operating room, with a sad expression on their face. Dr. Hal sighed, and walked over to them. “Hey, Pear.” Pear was a nickname that Dr. Hal called Dr. Param sometimes. Mostly when he was being nice to them. “Sorry for snapping at you. You didn't do anything wrong.” He said, looking at his feet. Dr. Param smiled. “Thanks. I’m sorry too if I was a bit overbearing or annoying.” “You werent.” Dr. Hal sat next to his colleague. “You were just trying to be helpful.” He added, looking at a motivational poster. The poster had been there for sixteen years. It was a picture of a lake with a caption in bold white text that said “SERENITY” It was Dr. Hal’s favorite, because it was the least annoying of them all. “Yeah.” Param nodded. There was an uneasiness to their words, like they still wanted to bring up something, but did not want Dr. Hal to be mad at them again. They sighed and looked away. “Um. yeah.” They said suddenly very interested in the yellow carpet Dr. Hal took notice, and knew that Dr. Param wanted to bring up the work thing again. He didnt really know what to do about that, he really didnt want to talk about it again, because he knew he would get snappy again, but at the same time he also wanted to make Param feel comfortable, and this tension between them really sucked. “Look, pear, I’m just. I think-” Dr. Hal looked around, not sure what to say next. “I think i just need a short break. Like a vacation, and then maybe i’ll be less agitated all the time. I was wondering if you wanna take a vacation with me?” He asked. Dr. Param thought for a moment. “Sure!” They nodded. “Could be fun. Just like. Uh. A boy’s get away. Except that I'm not a boy, but you know what I mean.” “Boys can be gender neutral if you want.” Dr. Hal countered, draping his arm behind Dr. Param Dr. Param snorted. “Yeah, sure. Still not a boy.” They said, laying their hands on their lap. Or rather, hand and weird needle thing on their lap. They seemed to be more at ease with the vacation thing. This wasn't the first time the two of them had taken a vacation together. They never actually went anywhere for their vacations, that wasn't permitted. Mostly they just hung out in the green house. It was the nicest place in the campus. It was almost like being outside. Dr. Param stood up suddenly. “Let's go to the cafeteria.” They said to their colleague. They thought that Hal looked tense, maybe some nutrient solution would make him feel better? The two of them didn't exactly eat normal food, but they both needed basic vitamins and fuel for their human brains. Dr. Hal also got up “Sure.” He said. “As long as you don't repeat the yogurt incident again.” “Hey! I told you not to bring that up again!” Dr. Param playfully hit Hal. “Then don't try to put yogurt directly onto your brain, you idiot.” Hal laughed. “IT WAS A ONE TIME THING!!” Dr. Param retorted, not genuinely mad, but trying to act like it.

It was moments like this when the two scientists truly appreciated each other. Maybe things werent...ideal. Maybe being contractually obligated to remain in an underground space for the next 34 years wouldn't be great, but at least they had each other. And that was all that they needed. At least thats what Param told themself. They werent sure if He felt the same way. He did not in fact feel the same way. He was in fact very antsy to get out of this place. He just wanted to leave already, though he didn't allow himself to fully think these thoughts, always pushing them to the back of his head. But Dr. Param? He was content to just experiment on the subjects for eternity. As long as Hal was there, everything would be okay!

Everything was okay.

The two of them continued to walk down the hallways of yellow carpet and off white plaster walls. It was a familiar hallway, the two of them could probably go down it while blinded. As they walked, Hal decided to mention the vivisection, only to find out that Dr. Param had also been told about it. “Its rather short notice, dont you think?” Param remarked. “We usually have atleast 3 days of notice to prepare a strategy, and they usually give us information on how to best deal with them. When i asked Sarah who it was, she said we would be told tomorrow.”

Dr. Hal nodded. It was weird. “Well they did say it was high profile. Maybe they want to keep it under wraps. Heh. Maybe we are operating on the president or something.” The current president, Clair Vonyant, well...she was a controversial figure. A powerful psychic with the power to kill anyone just by concentrating really hard...That was pretty frightening to both of them. Not to mention her unconstitutional four terms as president. 

“I mean, she does kinda suck though.” Param rolled their eyes. “And it would be easy for me to alter her memories, since shes such a public figure and we know a lot about her. Last one we had, we didn't know a lot about. But for her? Easy. You can just make her hallucinate her dead brother and i can alter her memories so that she thinks he never died. There wouldn't be any struggle then.” They said casually, as if they were just discussing causal workplace terms. Which in their eyes, they were. Hal didn't see anything wrong with this either. Just a normal wednesday. “Agreed.” Finally they reached the cafeteria. It was a wide and large room they came upon, the yellow carpet gave way to grey linoleum, but the off white walls were the same color. It had a glass ceiling that showed the sky. Tables were placed neatly around the room. It was always strangely empty for such a big room. Like maybe it was built for more people. There were only 10 people who worked in this facility, Dr. Hal and Dr. Param included. 

There were three in the cafeteria now. Dr. Sarah was eating some lunch. She looked disinterested in the two who entered, more focused on her food. Dr. Hal was disinterested in her too, he walked around her to get to the nutrient dispenser. But Dr. Param took notice of Dr. Sarah, and they headed for her. “Greetings sarah. What are you eating?” They asked. It was some sort of soup. “Tuna soup.” She said after taking a bit to chew her food before answering. She had manners, she would have you know. Her soup looked kinda gross, but she wasn't complaining. Dr. Param nodded. “That's nice. I was wondering...well...I was wondering if there was any way that you could provide more information about the vivisection tomorrow?” Sarah looked at them with an annoyed expression. “I'm eating, Dr. Param. I would prefer not to talk about this right now.”

Dr. Param made a small noise of annoyance of their own, and sighed. “You're right, sorry.” They said as they walked away. They didn't understand what all this secrecy was about. Why would this vivisection be done on such short notice? Dr. Param didn't like it, they didn't like it one bit. This was unorderly. Something that interrupted and destroyed routine. They were soon roused from their annoyed vagaries when they saw that Dr. Hal was waiting for them. 

“Are you done being a detective?” He asked, one arm on the machine, the other sat on his hip. “It's hardly detective work to just ask a simple question.” They retorted, taking a pack of nutrient solution out of the glorified fridge. 

“You would be surprised, i’m pretty sure that's what being a detective is all about.” “So youre saying that I'm Sherlock Holmes now? That's nice of you.” Param smirked, popping the container open and inserting the needle that came with it into the back of their head. But they kept missing the hole. “Can you be like watson and help me with this darn needle?” They asked. “Sure just let me-” click, it was finally inserted into the right place. The juice poured into their brain, which was a pleasant sensation. “Thanks.” They said with a smile. “They should have made your body more streamlined for this kind of thing. Having the hole in the back of your head is a bit inefficient.” He huffed. 

“I actually like my body, thank you very much. I am the sexiest cyborg here.” They said, smirking. “Yeah sure.” Dr. Hal rolled his eyes. He didn't have a mouth, but he was smiling too, with his eyes. Sarah audibly groaned. She was so tired of having to hear those two’s banter all the time. It was so incredibly annoying! She was just trying to eat some soup, she didn't need to hear these weirdos talking about their bodies or whatever. The two scientists looked at her when she loudly groaned, before looking away. The two had an odd relationship with her. She was one of the more friendly scientists, as long as you didnt get between her and her goals. She got up and threw her plastic soup bowl in the trash and walked over to the two of them. “So the vivisection-” She began. “I can't tell you very much about it, but I will tell you that the subject has a fear of the dark.” She looked at her feet, almost shamefully. She seemed to be really hesitant to talk about this, but she was friends with the two scientists, and she wanted to make what was about to come easier on them.

“A lot of people have a fear of the dark.” Dr. Hal remarked. “But I appreciate the morsel of help. Is there anything else you can tell us?” “Hm.” Dr. Sarah thought for a moment. “She also has a fear of being perceived as weak. At least that's what the psychiatric tests told us.” So it's a female then. Dr. Param thought. “Alright. Thanks for the help.” They said brightly. Dr. Hal nodded. He figured that they wouldn't get much more info out of Sarah, and it was getting late. Might as well turn in for the night soon. He tapped Dr. Param on the shoulder and gestured towards his quarters. “I’m going to go to sleep now. See you tomorrow?” Dr. Param blinked, and looked at a clock, surprised at how late it was. It was almost 10 pm. They nodded. “See you tomorrow.” They repeated. Hal walked away as Sarah and Param continued to talk for a little bit. Eventually Dr. Param said goodbye to Sarah as well. Dr. Param’s quarters were the same size as Dr. Hal’s. But they had no bed like he did. They just had a metal table in which they laid their body on. They couldn't feel cloth, so a bed was unneeded. A small pile of junk lay in the corner of their room. Bottlecaps, paper clips and pens that they had collected. They looked at it as they initiated their body to release sleeping chemicals to lull their brain to sleep. Dr. Param was painfully human, despite being unrecognizable as one.

#brainjarred #oc #oc story #chapter 2

[wellhellsbelles]

hey! i love everything you write and can't wait for the next chapter of ttroywh. i saw you're taking prompts and i was wondering if you could write one i saw in @rickibowen saying that riley and maya go to the bachelor and riley's supposed to fall in love with lucas but falls in love w/ farkle who is the camera man/editor of the show and she always tries to make him laugh by making faces during one on one interviews and so, while lucas and maya fall in love w/ each other

hope you don’t mind me cutting it short! i don’t know much about the bachelor and would’ve liked to expand more but the internet is not good at gleaning info on the process 😅 so here’s my take on as much of that au as i could!

enjoy!

Farkle took the dumb job by chance.

 Well, he did apply for it, but he never thought he’d actually get the job. In all honesty, he figured his small degree in video production wouldn’t end up fruitful, that it was only really a backburner type of deal. He still did believe that—he was going to pursue something in science, that he was adamant of. He just needed . . . a break from it (“Even geniuses need to take care of their mental health,” his mother had told him.) So he pursued videography, something that had become a sort of hobby to him, and when the summer arrived and he needed cash, he figured he’d apply for this job just for kicks.

Farkle never believed he’d end himself up on the set of The Bachelor, not in a million years.

It was sort of surreal, the whole atmosphere that followed such an illustrious television show. Farkle never bought into the appeal of the show, especially since it seemed silly to drag all these girls along just for some pretty boy to tell them they weren’t “the one”. It just seemed cruel, but then again, who was he to judge? He was earning money off of taping their dreams getting crushed, after all.

The first day on set was a barrage of sensory overload—so many voices, faces he needed to commit to memory, an itinerary of equipment he’d be handling . . . there was just so much. He was halfway tempted to run when he started becoming overwhelmed, but he remembered himself, breathing in and out until he’d maintained a sense of calm.

Farkle could do it. He would do it. There was no way he was backing out now.

The preparation for the show was massive, but then the first day of filming arrived right under his nose. Profiles he’d studied of both the bachelor and the ladies he would be choosing from were going to quickly turn to reality, no longer just faces on a page. He knew he wouldn’t be making friends or anything of that ilk, but he did want to at least talk to people, especially since he’d be the one on the other side of the camera for most of the shooting.

Farkle was going to be the main guy they all report to when it’s time to film their confessions, maybe secrets that would be aired on television but no one else on set would know until later. No one but him, which he was well aware was a heavy burden to carry. But then again, it was reality television—who said anything anyone reveal was actually real? The contestants weren’t getting paid for anything, so truth was muddied at best.

But somehow, despite all of this mess being, well, a mess, Farkle could still say he was excited at the prospect of taking part of something big. This was his shot at obtaining a glimpse a slice of a life he’d never experienced before, and he couldn’t wait to see how it all turned out.

 //

 “I can’t believe you talked me into this dumb mess. This is your fault,” Maya groaned from beside Riley as the other girls with them in the limo talked animatedly.

“My fault? How was I supposed to know they’d pick both of us for this show? Besides, you’re the one who submitted your application while we were drunk! You could’ve backed out at anytime and you know it, Hart,” Riley said accusingly. “Besides, we’ll have fun! You need some in your life.”

“I feel like I’m being pimped out by a bunch of white guys to another white guy. I hate this,” Maya slumped down further in her seat. “And they took my phone, too! How am I supposed to entertain myself?”

“Don’t you draw? Just do that. I know you brought your sketchbook,” Riley suggested. Maya shook her head.

“Nope. Not going to happen. I am not advertising my art for the world to see. One of those dumb cameramen are going to sneak up on me and do it without my permission, I just know it.”

“Suit yourself,” Riley shrugged, turning her attention to the rest of the girls in the car. She knew there was a camera in the car with them and that the producers would prefer it if she engaged in conversation about the bachelor, but she’d rather just lay low. She’d try and play it up for them later after she’d seen him up close and personal.

But Maya did have a point. Why was she doing this again? It really was a decision she made on a whim, but unlike Maya, her decision was made completely sober.

The Bachelor had been one of her favorite guilty pleasure shows that she watched over the years, but she had never once entertained the idea of actually becoming a contestant. Perhaps it was when her long-term boyfriend broke up with her that spurred her interest, maybe she just needed something new and this was it. Whatever the case, she had been picked along with her best friend, and wherever Riley went, Maya followed.

She couldn’t be too mad, anyhow—the bachelor they had picked was incredibly handsome.

His name was Lucas Friar, born and raised in Texas. Everything about him sounded like a dream come true, but she kept a smidgeon of skepticism about him just in case the show had encouraged a little truth bending for the sake of appeal. Still, she couldn’t deny that his extensive list of positive qualities all seemed a little too good to be true.

He sounded like a true, southern gentleman, the kind that would meet you at the door and talk to your parents before escorting you out on a date. A lionhearted and loyal friend, the testimonies in his profile had mentioned. A guy who is just so down to earth you can’t help but fall for him. Loves animals of all kinds and is working hard to become a veterinarian. His experience of being raised on a farm spawned his interest in animal care.

If Riley could swoon, she would. She still might, after meeting him.

For the rest of the ride, Riley tried her best to pitch in with the “bachelor talk” the other girls were participating in. She wasn’t too terrible at it, but getting Maya to participate was another thing entirely. Despite making it onto the show and agreeing to be there (Riley told her she didn’t need to say yes to being a contestant! At this point, she’s almost certain Maya agreed for her own personal agenda that Riley’s not privy to), she refuses to play along.

After what felt like an eternity of a car ride, they made it to the mansion they’d be staying at for the duration of their stint on the show. They asked Riley to be the first one out of the limo, something that floored Riley.

First limo, first out—they had a good feeling about Riley, was what that meant. She’d watched enough of The Bachelor to know that the first person to meet the bachelor was important; it was his first impression, the real start of the show, and it meant the producers were rooting for her.

So, no pressure.

Her meeting with Lucas passed by her in a flash, but she had a good feeling about it. He found her slight awkwardness endearing and by just interacting with him, she felt as though there was a certain energy between them. Of course, she’d never been the best at reading situations, but something told her that it was right for her to be on The Bachelor.

After meeting him, she waited in the main room as the other girls got to have their own interaction with Lucas, trying to not feel nervous as they all piled in together. They chatted amongst each other, but Riley couldn’t help but notice Maya hadn’t joined her yet.

Must be the producers, she admonished in her mind.

She wasn’t allowed to keep wondering, however, as a distraction was sent her way. One of the producers walked in, announcing that they were going to start filming confessionals and called Riley up to be the first.

“We just need you to talk about Lucas a little, maybe your experience so far,” he explained as he ushered her off to another room. “Be yourself, but also realize this is television, yeah?”

“So be myself but not really myself?” Riley blurted. The producer nodded.

“Bingo, you’ve got it. Now go in there and kill it.”

With a slight push, Riley entered the confession room, the door closing shut behind her. There was a guy already in there scrawling down notes onto a clipboard, his focus undeterred until the door closing alerted him to her presence.

“Oh, sorry about that,” he muttered, setting the clipboard down. He turned toward her with a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, and Riley couldn’t help but feel bad for him. It seemed less like he was trying to be a professional and more like he didn’t want to be there at all.

“Hey, I know this is a weird request, but what’s your name? I’d like to get to know everyone around here, even if I just last a day,” Riley said. The cameraman’s stormy blue eyes lit up in surprise.

“You want to know my name? No one wants to know my name,” he told her. Now it was Riley’s turn to frown.

No one here wanted to know his name? But he was helping make the show. Was the whole production team for The Bachelor really that callous?

“Well, I do. Here, I’ll start—I’m Riley Matthews,” she beamed, sticking her hand out towards him. He hesitated a moment before enveloping her dainty hand with his, the warmth comforting.

“Farkle Minkus. I’ll be your cameraman for a lot of this run, but mostly just the confessional stuff.”

“Glad to have met you, Farkle.”

After breaking the handshake, it still took Farkle a moment to gain his footing and Riley couldn’t blame him.

“Okay, so you’ll sit at that seat right there,” he gestured in front of him to the empty chair, “And you’ll have to give me a moment to set the lighting right on you and then make sure sound is good.”

Riley did as she was told, waiting patiently in her seat as he shuffled about the room. She observed him scrambling about, heart warming at the awkward way he appeared to be moving. It reminded her of herself when she was anxious.

After a few minutes, Farkle was ready, giving her a countdown to begin.

“Just start talking about your first impression of Lucas, okay?” he instructed.

“Okay,” Riley nodded. She watched in silence as he started the countdown audibly, switching to counting with his fingers when they reached three. Then two, followed by one.

Showtime, she said to herself.

 //

 At the end of the first night, Maya was the first to get a rose. Riley wasn’t surprised one bit—Maya had a sort of charm about her and people couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It always surprised her when that happened, and that night was no exception to the rule. As someone who was also competing, Riley couldn’t help but feel a touch jealous, but more than anything, she was proud of her friend.

Despite Maya receiving the first rose, though, Riley did get quite a bit of time to spend with Lucas. He was shy and reserved, yet cheerful and inviting, and they got along quite well. If Riley was a spectator, she’d bet good money on herself.

But her time outside of filming scenes was spent hanging around Farkle. He didn’t really believe her when she said she wanted to get to know the people working on the show, so she was determined to prove him wrong, especially since she just kept being picked by Lucas. Each day, she’d greet Farkle when she’d spot him by the refreshments table set up for the crew, she’d ask how he was when he was there to film her confessions, and just do her best to cheer him up since he always looked down.

“You know you’re going to get me fired, right?” he asked her one day after they filmed a scene. “You keep making faces at me and I’m trying so hard to not laugh but I swear, Riley.”

“Is it making you laugh?” she said, curious.

“Yes, oh my god! They’re going to have to cut so much of that out not just for your dumb faces, but me interrupting their audio,” he groaned. Riley smiled.

“Good. Then I won’t stop!”

“Relentless, Riley Matthews, that’s what you are. And a pain in my ass.”

Riley liked getting to film The Bachelor, but as the days passed by, she had a feeling it was less because of her wanting to be on the actual show and vying for Lucas’ attention, and more due to the fact that Farkle was there.

And if halfway through the filming process Lucas ended it because he’d picked Maya (and she picked him too, shockingly), Riley couldn’t find it in her to be sad.

She had found Farkle, after all, so really she was the true winner of the game.

#riarkle #riley x farkle #riarkle fanfic #riarkle fanfiction #sorry this had the potential to be longer but i couldn't commit more to it than i did #but its written!

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

One Night Only 2, Part 7

But what DMs? Who's talking shit about me," you hiss mid-stair. He's halfway down the hall.

"Bring ya ass on," he whisper-yells and you jog over to grab his wrist demanding his focus.

"Tell me."

"I hear you," he says a little forcefully, unzipping the fly to his black Levi's and walking sock-footed into the main bathroom on the way to the toilet.

"Okay so? Why have you never brought any of this up to me? And how many of these messages you been getting?"

"Hella. Bae, get out I gotta piss."

"I need to see these messages."

"You finna see more than that."

"I don't care, I've seen your dick before.. Erik!.."

"Out," he points to the door. 

Closing it behind you, you wait in the hall while he does his business. When he opens the door he double-blinks shocked to see you standing so close, glaring up at him.

"You never mentioned it... Don't you think that's something important to tell me?"

"For what," he deadpans. "What would you do with that information?"

"Tell you I'm not cheating!"

"I know you not cheating." He says it so matter-of-factly that it catches you off guard.

"It's just odd. Someone sends you pictures and you aren't the least bit curious?"

"Should I suspect you?"

"Hell nah! I'm very loyal," you scoff. "But with all these seeds being planted in your mind, you never had any doubts about me?"

"Once or twice," he admits, his forearm now resting on the wall over your head.

"WHEN?" Your eyes are wide.

"You remember when I hit you up and you said you was at the studio, but my producer ain't see you?"

Of course I remember that.

"I couldn't figure out why you'd lie to me about something that small."

"Erik, that was the night I wanted to surprise you by having your favorite cheesecake from Sugar's because I was excited you were coming home!"

"I know that now," he smirks sarcastically. It was also the first night we played with food and sex. The cake was a mess, we had to buy new sheets. "Only reason I was trippin then was cuz three niggas DM'd me the same video saying you was in the clubs with 6lack and that I'm a simp cuz the nigga was kissing all down your neck." He rubs down his own thick neck in distaste for the mental image. "I zoomed," he pinched the air, "She looked like you, her skin and her hair. Side profile. The fucked up part was I knew through the business 6lack was tryna collab and you were on to collab with a rapper. Plus I was away for a lil bit. But I looked at that picture real close and I saw she had green polish. Last I'd seen, you were wearing white."

"I've never even- ...what? Erik! You should've told me!"

"No need. Even if the rumors were true, I wouldn't leave you.. Not immediately."

"Not immediately, but you'd dip on my ass and I wouldn't know why." That actually kind of hurts. "I mean, I do get it. Cheating is definitely my dealbreaker."

"Oh for sure. Disloyalty is mine and I hate liars."

"Wow," I mouth just staring at him. "You really never hit me with the questions.."

"I checked up on you to make sure you were straight," he straightens defensively.

"No, I know. I mean clocking my moves. You never did that."

"I'm not your last nigga," his brow raises indignantly. "You know where home is just like I know what I deserve."

"You're right, you deserve the best. You deserve me," you smile, the smile drooping seconds later. "Erik, those messages.. all these lies about me. They really bother me and I know they shouldn't and that I should get used to it but I don't like having my integrity on trial like this. I don't get why people would say so much about someone they've never met, like I'm not a person with emotions."

He unlocks his phone and taps a few times and when he shows you the screen it's his Twitter account. His DM's are packed full of people, just like yours. It suddenly hits you how you never check each others' phones. You never felt a need to check his. He puts his phone in your hand and you scroll opening a random message.  It's a nude of a blonde white woman sent with no other information. She's showing pale pink nipples and barbie proportions but he hadn't responded. The next message is one from one of his fan accounts sending him a bunch of hearteyes. He takes over the phone exiting out of that and scrolling. The next message he shows, they'd forwarded a post about you fucking 6lack with a sad face emoji.  You open it and have to admit there's a strong resemblance, but you've never, ever cheated on him.

"What the hell? That's not even me, I swear!"

"I know."

"This is raising my blood pressure."

"It goes with the fame. They always talk shit about me being a fuckboy even though I been with you all this time. It just means you're relevant."

"There's gotta be other ways to stay relevant- Shh. Wait... You hear that?"

You listen to the air. It's silent, you just noticed. You decide to peep in on the baby. He's still knocked out. Though it's quiet now, he'd slept through another World War and it makes you wonder how bad Nay and Corey have been cuttin up in that apartment for this kid to be that used to the noise. Nay probably underplayed the severity of the situation.

Erik cracks the door again concealing the baby from your sight to direct you to the stairs with a nod. Leading the way, you head down silently

in search of Anaya. She's not in the living room where you'd left her with Corey and they're not in the kitchen, his favorite place.

"Where did she go," you mouth watching Erik peep through a window and cross the room. You look through the same window, see nothing, and follow Erik as he heads to the hot tub. As you approach, you can hear noises. Splashing, plopping, moaning, and..

"Shit, y'all getting it in ain't you," Erik grins. Anaya's body melts into the water as she grips the edge of the hot tub to hide. Corey hits one more pump and she hits him, not wanting to moan.

"GET OUT," Corey yells sending a splash out of the tub in Erik's direction. It sprinkles you both, but most of the water falls back down as you hop back.

"This my house," Eriks grins.

"And I like to watch,"  you add, humored by the fact that they can't find it within themselves to stop fuckin.

"Y/N get out!" Anaya splashes, water bouncing from her arch as Corey's hips clap against her ass underwater. You laugh holding your knees so not to fall.

"Get it Nay! That's how you get baby number 2!"

"GET OUT," they both yell in unison.

Back in the house, Erik's eyes are crinkled and he's trying to contain himself like you but you're both actually children and can't stop giggling. In any case, the two seem to be alright now.

"Baby. I wanna finish this conversation." You wait beside the sink looking at his eyes. "As you know, Anaya and I made a fake page and found some of the people who be spreading shit about me. Hate pages and they're mostly mad because I'm with you."

"I saw that shit. Sent them to Quentin and he said he traced the IP addresses of the two Twitter accounts we sent him, but something ain't sit right with me." He pours himself a bowl of Cap'n Crunch and leans against the counter to eat it, smacking loudly. "Who been watching us to know my schedule.. They said some bout me leaving the house and us barely being together. My tour schedule is public but other than that don't nobody but you and my team really know where I be."

"You think it's somebody on your team doing this?"

"Nah, everybody on my team love you and glad you're here to make me more manageable. They feel like they can snitch to you to keep me in line."

That one makes you giggle.

"I think it could be someone on your team. Someone you hired." He stares through you as he chews and you wait for him to finish his theory, on edge. It's all got you paranoid especially when he sits the bowl down unfinished. "Gimme your phone." He looks serious and confused, you hand it over.

"I'll be back," he says zipping up the stairs. Within minutes he's back with shoes on fully dressed grabbing his keys. He kisses you on the cheek and you jog after him to the door.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

"TELL COREY DON'T NUT IN MY TUB," he yells back as you watch him leave.

---

With nothing to do and no one to do it with you decide working on your music is the best use of your time and return to the home studio to work on track six of your album. Last you were there, you couldn't get quite right. Erik could hear it and so could you.

Pursing your lips you slide back up to the computer, put your Drop headphones back on, and play it back. Then you add the rap from earlier and play it back wishing the team was still in the house to give some advise. Hell at this point you'd listen to Courtney, the new and improved nanny. 

Nanny...

NANNY.

Before another thought can cross your mind, you're tossing your headphones back on the table and running down the stairs out to the hot tub where Anaya and Corey are in their underwear slow dancing to Marvin Gaye. Rushing in, you immediately start looking for their phones in their pile of clothes.

"Sis. Whatcha doin," Corey asks still looking at Anaya but he can hear me ruffling through their things.

"Looking for a phone, Erik has mine."

"Under y'all coffee table," he says finally making eye contact to see your face twisted in mock disgust. "What.. don't act like y'all niggas don't fuck everywhere in this house."

"It's our house! That's okay though y'all just roll in where we nutted at, it's fine," you wave dismissively.

"Y'all can soak in where we nutted at! Have fun cuh' I skeeted all in this bih-"

"BYE COREY. Stupid ass," I mumble so he hears. I don't have time to play with him I need to call Erik.

"What bitch," he answers and you almost fire off, feathers ruffled and taken aback until you remember you're calling from Corey's number.

"Babe.."

"Y/N," his tone changes. "Sup baby, you okay?"

"Yeah I thought about what you said and the NANNY.. what if it was her? Not Courtney but the one I caught in my stuff.. Raven. She freaked me out."

"I think you might be right, I got her info from your phone. I'm headed to her now."

"You're going to her apartment?"

"Yeah, trust me okay?"

"Okay but I've got a bone to pick with her, I would've went just so I could beat her ass one time."

He snorts. "You're staying out of it. As far as anyone knows, you aren't the one who deals with this shit. You have an image to protect.. unless you wanna be painted as aggressive and reckless like me." 

"I don't care."

"Yes. You do."

"And anyway you're not as reckless as they paint it and when you are I like it," you shrug resting your hand on your hip. "You've got character.. and so do I."

"Okay well keep your character over there, you got enough drama on your name."

Hanging up with him, you realize you can't call the bitch either because her contact was in your phone, but that can't be the end of it. It's not that you don't trust Erik, you just want your one hit in. Heading to the hot tub again, you catch Anaya and Corey as they're coming back toward the kitchen.

"ANAYA."

"YES? WHAT," she asks wide-eyed like I'm blowing her high.

"You won't believe this. I think that old nanny, the one who neglected my godson to play dressup in my closet, might be the one who leaked my number."

Immediately she freezes in place. "You know you did contact her before it happened," she points at me connecting dots in her head. "She was probably the type. No, definitely. It was her ass," she nods swinging hands like she's ready to fight.

"Godson?... My son?" Corey looks interested now, chin angled down like it better be a lie.

"Anthony, nigga. I hired her to give Anaya a mental break and the trifling hoe did nothing all day but walk around my house and go through my stuff."

"She ain't even feed or change my son," Anaya adds tapping Corey on his chest. He's pissed all over again, his lip curled in disgust.

"Hell nah where she at," he frowns.

"Erik went to find her and took my phone since he figured it out first. I don't have her information."

"Hell, I do." Anaya jogged up the stairs and returned holding the sleeping Anthony and a slip of paper. "I wrote it down after what she did cause I was ready to find her ass myself but didn't wanna do it here and drag you in it, you got enough problems. Sorry for unlocking your phone, but hmm," she hums as Corey takes the slip scanning it.

"I'm glad you did it," you assure glad to have the information now. Corey's already gone and when he returns he's got your car keys in hand, storming out the front door and you jog after him with your hand out. "Uh uh! Bring my keys back!" He looks at you like you've got to be kidding but when he comes back, you snatch the house key to lock up and toss them back to him. "Now we can go!" This time you don't stop him as he jogs off. You, Anthony, and Anaya are right behind him. It's the fastest Anaya has ever put Anthony in that carseat with him waking up only to look around and out the car windows, touch his shoes, and go back to sleep.

-----

Pulling up to the address you see Erik's car and hop out the passenger side of your car as Corey leaves the car running for sake of the A/C. "Stay here with my son," he orders to Anaya, slamming the door.

"Easy. On. My. Car," you fuss rolling your eyes. The both of you jog ahead to the apartment building and there's no elevator in sight. Without a second thought, he jogs up the stairs and you follow, walking up.

By the time you get there, your legs hurt but you make it to the apartment not sure of whose ass you can beat until your legs recover. You try the door and it's unlocked so you walk in, stopping short before you turn the corner. When you peep around...  There standing with his arms folded is Erik in front of Corey who's threatening to kill someone. Never have you ever seen Corey this angry to threaten to kill someone but he's serious. Briefly you wonder why Erik's standing there in front of him like that and not brawling then you peep a little further. There's a gun pointed at them but you can't see who's holding it without exposing that you're there and coming in further. It looks like it's Raven's arm.

"You better pray you don't miss," Corey laughs behind Erik as he moves to block Corey's vital points.

"Say that to my face.. step around," the girl's voice taunts. "Scared?"

Corey is losing control and it finally hits you that Erik's using himself as a shield because the girl won't shoot him.

"COME ON," she challenges. "I don't want you here, I just want HIM," she chuckles.

"Fuck that," Erik retorts. "Never again."

Again?? You almost walk in there but stop yourself. It had to be before you. Yeah, that has to be the case.

"If you strip for me... right... now," she giggles, "I'll let your friend go. Simple.  Whaddya say Erik? I promise. Baby, I promise."

Oh hell nah.

"He ain't doing shit bitch, shoot me. I dare you," Corey jumps causing Erik to shift again.

You can't leave and you don't have a phone to tell Anaya to call 911. Besides, neither of you would respect calling 911 anyway it was already out of the question.

But you also know if the bitch is this crazy and Corey is this mad, she will shoot him dead and Erik can't move because he knows she'll shoot Corey. They're stuck and she's taking advantage. There's only one thing left to do.

"BOO BITCH," you yell running around the corner praying you don't die tonight. You anticipate her firing her gun at you and slide as she shoots.. like a boss until she fires down. You try to dodge and get hit in the shoulder before Erik tackles her to the ground almost breaking her hand to seize the gun, snatching it.

"Corey, take Y/N and go," he orders.

"Hell nah! I ain't get shot to leave I'm in this," you fuss.

"She said she ain't leaving till this bitch dead," Corey points to the woman who's pinned to the ground.

"If it's by your hand, I'll accept it," the woman on the ground laughs like a psycho.

"Harpo who this woman?" You stare at Erik's head and he looks back at you briefly, sighing in irritation.

"You wanna talk about this now??"

"Did you put your dick in that bitch? When?"

"When we separated. It was one time."

You gasp. "You was fuckin groupies while we were apart?!"

"Baby.. yes, okay. Damn."

"So what was the difference between me and them? You were really fucking random bitches!!"

"You're not special," the woman he's sitting on teases and you finally get a good look at her to realize it's not Raven at all...

"Who is this bitch," you squint looking down at her.

"SOME BITCH," he yells.

"Psycho bitch," Corey adds. "Slice her fuckin titties off yo."

"Corey... Who's this bitch," you ask.

"Superfan. Stalker ass.."

"What?" Now you're really confused.

"This was never about you. She was tryna get to me," Erik reveals.

"Cuz you fucked her," you blurt.

"YEAH. I FUCKED HER. ONE TIME."

"What you expect," Corey interjects. "I told your ass to go get him, how long you expect him to hold out. Two years? Cut him some slack. Man was going through it."

"Don't worry, I took care of him then, he'll be okay if you walk out again," the girl under Erik giggles pissing you off for the last time.

"Uh uh, Erik get up," you command and initially he ignores you, but you tap his shoulder and gesture for him to stand up.

Groaning, he gestures to your injured shoulder but steps back and the woman chuckles standing up from the floor.

"I'm a beat your ass myself. Woman to woman," you nod feeling her out to see how she'll move. You haven't been in many fights in your life, but win or lose this is one you feel like you need.

"You can try, " she shrugs and you both move trying to find that in. She raises her hands like she's finding a time to swing and you wait doing the same.

"Hit me bitch," she laughs.

"I will," you chuckle ready to boo her.

She jabs and you dodge but her follow-up hits you in the nose knocking you back and you can see Corey in the background balling his lips like a mother saying you better not lose.

She hits you again and you miss her when you swing giving her the chance to grab your injured shoulder. Yelling out in pain, you grab her and scuffle knocking her backward where gravity does the work. She hits her head on the floor and straddle her to return the hits she gave you to her face with interest until Erik pulls you off by your waist holding you back.

"Put me down, I'm a drown her in her own blood!"

"Chill bae, I called my bodyguards. They'll handle her and her funky ass cousin. We need to leave though. Let's just go home.."

You still, calming yourself and smoothing out your hair before scooting to kick her one time in the ribs, "For Anaya," and once more "for Anthony. Now I'm done."

Spinning on your heels and walking out, you head down the stairs where Corey and Erik come down right behind you.

@ljstraightnochaser

#one night only #erik killmonger x black reader #erik killmonger x reader

[haiq-trash]

By Your Side [2/19]

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"Y/n, please be rational about this. Can we talk about what happened-“ Akashi’s footsteps were heard rapidly and loud as he tried to catch up to you. 

You looked back to see the worried expression on his face but sighed as you continued walking, “No it was nothing, now get me the new Developers profiles from HR”

Akashi was taken back by your sudden switch to work mode in what seemed to be a casual conversation but nonetheless nodded, “Okay but...we really need to talk”

You sighed and looked at your (F/C) wrist watch, moving a hand through your hair and looking up you said, “Okay fine I’m free for lunch today for around 15 minutes.”

Akashi nodded and speed walked off into the opposite direction toward the developers side of the building. And asG you walked to your office after a few hours of walking around and seeing your workers you passed by Kiyoko, who was typing on the computer.

Walking towards her, she stopped typing as soon as you leaned on her desk, she looked up.

“How can I help you Miss?”

Sighing you almost let a smile creep over your face as a mundane thought infected your mind, I know it's not part of your job but could you please get me a coffee. I haven’t eaten and I saw the little coffee shop sandwich you had so I was wondering if you could help a girl out! but you suppressed it.

“I need Sony's head developers contact info could you send me it through email as well as the main company directors?” Your tone was leveled.

Not too friendly, not too cold. 

Professional.

Kiyoko nodded as she turned to her computer already typing out the info, “Of course, also some media outlets would like to have an interview with you. They keep calling.”

You groaned inwardly but let nothing out, “The company is really busy right now so please decline them all.”

Kiyoko nodded, “Understood,” she stopped typing for a minute to look at you and she flashed you a small smile, “ You look great today Y/n. That color really compliments you.”

You wanted to smile, you wanted to say, Thank you! That shirt is adorable on you! 

Instead you let out a nod, “Thanks for the compliment but it is rather inappropriate to call me by my first name, we are in a workplace Ms.Kiyoko.”

Kiyoko’s eyes slightly widened and she resumed typing while saying, “Of course my bad, Miss”

“All is well, even star employees such as yourself have slip ups. Nothing too serious. I will be in my office, if Assistant Akashi comes let him in right away he has important documents.”

Kiyoko nodded and you closed the door to your study. You sat down on your desk and looked around.

Maybe you should redecorate, maybe add some (f/c) accessories and items to your office to make it look more home-

You slapped yourself from the thoughts, although you loved the color (f/c), this was a workplace and the office of the CEO nonetheless!

“Y/n, here are the papers. Lunch is in a few minutes. Should we walk together?”

Grabbing the papers from him you sighed, “You not letting this go are you?”

“No, also Hinata’s joining us for lunch at the cafe”

A small smile crept on your face as your heart became tender for a moment, “Great”

“Attention Viria Tech Employees, Lunch Hour has now commenced” the automated voice rang through the speakers. 

“Let’s get going Y/n” Akashi motioned and both you and him walked into the elevator. Where other employees chattered among each other as well as to  look at both you and Akashi. 

It was obvious that you were the one in charge, your (tall/short/medium) posture was straighten. You never faltered even when wearing heels. The name tag that only said the words  FOUNDER & CEO,Y/n L/n was enough to educate those who didn’t know.

You and Akashi exited the elevator and out of the 9 stories high building. Hinata ran up to you two and the three of you walked in a diagonal line. You are in the middle of Hinata and Akashi, Hinata wearing a white collared work shirt and Akashi opting for a more casual work style vest. 

“Why didn’t Kenma come?” Hinata asked as the trio walked for a few more minutes to the desired coffee shop.

“His team and unit are busy cleaning up the mishap, we should get him something. Akashi write it down”

Akashi nodded and Hinata’s face morphed into a teasing grin, “Y/n we’re on break call him Keiji! You act like strangers!”

You clicked your tongue, “Both you guys and Kenma call me Y/n that causes enough confusion in the workplace. Secretary Kiyoko called me that today and I had to remind her to keep things professional.”

Hinata pouted and Akashi looked at you with a deadpan expression. 

“But aren’t you close with Kiyoko? You let her have a week off to enjoy her engagement party that you were invited to and you didn’t even go!” Hinata let out.

“I’m her employer I have to give her time off and the sentiment was sweet but it would not be appropriate-“

“It's clear that she thinks of you as a friend and a boss, why-“

“We’re here,let’s hurry before a line forms” Akashicut off both you and Hinata’s conversation. 

The three of you, or mostly  Hinata and Akashi frequented the shop to where the workers knew who they were and their orders. 

On rare days like today you would go with them and order a (fav drink) to drink and another small add on. 

Grabbing the orders, the three of you walked to the usual table in the corner of the shop where the sun hit. And for a moment you felt like it was the olden days, where you, Shouyou and Keiji would go to a coffee shop and talk about Shouyou’s boyfriend problems.

“Y/n, earth to y/n!” Hinata spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, sorry I dozed off Hinata” you let out refocusing your look toward him. 

He pouted, “We’re not on the clock Y/n-Chan! Stop calling me by my last name”

A wave of sadness crashed into you but you quickly recovered, “of course my bad Shouyou.”

“Why haven’t you changed your last name anyways? “ Akashi asked. 

Hinata turned bashful, “We still haven’t decided who’s gonna take who’s name….”

A small laugh left you and you shook your head, “Sounds about right”

Hinata grinned, “ You should laugh more y/n-Chan! Maybe we should get you a boyfriend”

Your face turned serious, “Of course not, I don’t have time for a romantic relationship the company is doing well right now. Once we get over this mishap and finalize the deal with Zony we will be way over the expected profit margins. Which means maybe we can open a sister location and-“

“Y/n, we’re on break” Akashi popped up and you bit the inside of your cheek. 

“Sorry, but yeah uhm no boyfriend.” You managed to choke out.

Hinata looked at you and so did Akashi and then they switched to look at one another and it was like they we’re telepathically speaking. 

Hinata nodded at Akashi and asked, “What happened last night Y/n?”

You felt your blood slightly boiled as you narrowed your eyes at your assistant, “Keiji, telling Shouyou was completely unprofessional-“

“There it goes, your favorite word.” Akashi let out, “It happened when I wasn’t on the clock and as your childhood friend  first and assistant second, I told him because I’m worried” 

You huffed out and looked at Hinata trying to reassure him, “Nothing happened Hinata”

“Shouyou, I know you're lying when you pull that professional speak and tight lip smile outside the office” Hinata confronted. 

You sighed, they had finally worn you down, “Find! My stalker was there somehow, during the meeting with the investors and he cornered me into the bathroom.”

“Y/n?! Did you scream for help?!”

You shook your head, “The investors were in a nearby table,  I would have caused a scene! Luckily the security noticed him and were extremely professional and discreetly got rid of him.”

“Y/n….” Hinata let out, his big brown doe eyes reflecting sadness and worry. Your heart clutched at the sight. 

“I’m fine nothing happened and the investors did their part. It all went well besides that!”

“Y/n, I think we should invest in security for you. A body guard perhaps?” Akashi let out.

Hinata nodded, “Yeah! They can keep you safe and-“

“No, I don’t need anyone constantly by my side like a hound out of business hours”

“An when do business hours stop for you huh?” Akashi remarked, “I know you slept in your office Y/n to  help  ease the workload on the developing team”

You blood rushed to the tip of your ears and your eyes darted away, playing with your hands you scoffed.

“Please Y/n? Pretty pleaseee” Hinata pleaded like whenever he needed a few more dollars in college.

There was a lump stuck in your throat and you looked at your two close friends…...their eyes were full of concern and pleads.

“Okay sure, but just one bodyguard okay?” You spoke.

They both brightened up and Akashi got his notepad, “I will so research and compile a list.”

“And I'll make sure he’s your type Y/n!” Hinata cheered. 

A blush made its way to embrace your neck, ears and cheeks, “Shouyou!”

Then laughter was released from your table and even a small chuckle left you. And that moment was warm, or maybe it was your heart. It certainly helped that there was the smell of coffee and baked goods.

Just like old times.

“This is the company that has good reviews….wait let me look it up”

Hinata waited patiently as Akashi type on the keyboard of his laptop. They were in the HR block of the building far from Y/n and her prying eyes.

“I was right, it was the same company that handled the restaurant incident. I’ll call them right now, they seem reputable.”

Hinata nodded vigorously, “Can we pick who to choose?”

Akashi kept clicking on the computer, his eye was knitting together, “On the website it says yes, they have their guards listed…”

“Oh…” Akashi leaned backwards, “So that was Bokuto’s new job huh?”

“Oh the one with the white hair?! He’s your boyfriend!” Hinata asked, Bokuto was tall and broad with big shoulders. His picture was similar to the other ones, black t shirt, black jeans and a white background. 

The default pictures underneath in small lettering it said, uniforms are up to the contractor.

“Oh! The one next to him! Y/n would love that one!” Hinata pointed at  Akashi’s screen, leaning in on him. 

“The one with all black hair? Grey eyes?” Akashi asked as he swirled the small mouse icon around the picture. 

Hinata nodded a grin so wide plastered on his face as he nodded, “Totally! He is 100% her type and looks wise!”

A small laugh left Akashi, “Y/n likes guys like that huh?”

Hinata nodded, “C’mon tell me you wouldn’t want to see Y/n break professional mode when she sees this guy in a suit!”

Akashi choked on his laugh and he looked at Hinata with slight wide eyes. It seemed like Hinata was very mischievous but with the best intentions.

Akashi composed himself, “I would...okay I’ll email the contractors and choose him.”

“Wait what’s his name? Remember Y/n said we would have to text her the guys names so that Kiyoko can make a Tag to enter the building, then he could talk to Kiyoko about getting a official company ID”

Akashi as he closed up his computer as he took a final glance, “Osamu Miya”

Hinata sent you a quick text and continued to be on his phone. While Akashi was on the phone chatting with the contractor and Kiyoko about the new employee. 

Once he was done, Akashi’s phone being put down snapped his attention back.

“So Osamu’s been contracted, he will be here next week to shadow Y/n for the day. From there we will set up a schedule for his working hours.”

Hinata nodded, “Are you going to tell her tonight?”

The clock struck 9pm, so work for the both was done for the day. But as they walked outside to the leave, side by side they noticed how both Kenma’s car and yours were still in the Parking Lot.

Akashi sighed, “I’ll tell her tomorrow. If I can give her a work break for at least a few hours tonight it's a win”

A small frown kissed Hinata’s face as he sighed, “Yeah, I wish she’d take some time off.”

Akashi let out a slightly bitter laugh, “As if, you know y/n. All work no play”

Hinata wriggled his eyebrows, “Who knows when Mr.Bodyguard arrives”

Akashi shook his head, “I feel like it will take more than a hot boy in a suit to crack Japans #1 Mogul”

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