#I mean ignore the fact he’s kidnapping someone

[tacktheyak]

let’s take a moment to appreciate the og cesare, he deserves the same amount of attention btb cesare gets!!

#the cabinet of dr. caligari #bigtop burger #seriously he’s so freaking cool just look at him #I mean ignore the fact he’s kidnapping someone #it’s not his fault #he was hypnotized #probably

[plutoswritingplanet]

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)

a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.

Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 2

Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up. 

Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors.  He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.

Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again. 

Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board. 

 There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently. 

A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one. 

Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail. 

You have to be alive and in good condition. 

Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?

- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected. 

***

The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. 

You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in. 

The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.

The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after. 

By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage. 

Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting. 

That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.

Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really. 

It started with Old Lady Sal. 

You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.

Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen. 

And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf. 

The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland. 

You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over. 

So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can. 

Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion. 

That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly. 

- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.

Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck. 

- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero. 

Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame. 

You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.

You were drunk, not stupid. 

***

The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake. 

It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door. 

It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother. 

Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.

- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...

Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise. 

- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.

- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...

- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words. 

- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...

You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.

- Put pressure on it.

There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.

- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.

- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.

Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.

Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain. 

- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer. 

- Well, kinda. A Ghoul. 

You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together. 

- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.

They led him to you. 

Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers. 

Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth. 

Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later. 

There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead. 

The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface.  The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands. 

Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.

He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.

- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.

Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.

Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions. 

No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?

- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.

- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.

A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.

 He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight. 

- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.

Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table. 

Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.

- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.

- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys. 

Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently. 

- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips. 

- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.

Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones. 

You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.

- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression. 

You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants. 

A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.

Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers. 

- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again. 

Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones. 

Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders. 

He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff. 

Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.

- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too. 

A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package. 

- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck. 

Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days. 

The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen. 

You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin. 

The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner. 

- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.

Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave. 

- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs. 

- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you. 

You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly. 

Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance. 

- You serious? 

- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?

- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up. 

- Wait. 

Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue. 

The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe. 

- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily. 

Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin. 

- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.

He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes.  If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender. 

Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins. 

#my writing #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout smut #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #i walt on his goggins till we fallout

[street-smarts00]

Complimentary Colors

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

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

WC: 7.3K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And at some point you both reached your boiling point. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t say that!” 

“It sure sounded like it.” 

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

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

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

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

You both replied with a monotone “yes.”

“Good” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine.”

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

“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked. 

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

“Maybe for a bit.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A bit what?” 

“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not that interesting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Purple.” He replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you a question this time?” 

“Of course.” 

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

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

“Is he one of your favorite authors?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one did you like the most?” 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shut up,” you retorted. 

“Make me.”

Your lips pursed, holding back a smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t respond, he froze up. 

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed. 

“Make me.”

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

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

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

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

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

"No. Don’t,” he begged. 

"Really?" You whispered softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glanced between his eyes and his lips. 

“Yes..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup”

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[breesperez139]

Dc x Dp Prompt #4

Viral Thirst Trap AU:

The only thing Danny could feel right now was complete and utter humiliation. As always, it started off as a joke. Tiktok was something Amity Park didn’t have access to for a while considering the fact that they were cut off from the rest of the world until a few months ago when Technus and Tucker teamed up to fix the media blackout.

Amity Park debated on this topic heavily weighing the pros and cons and eventually decided on the outside world only knowing about things Amity Park allowed. Meaning unless an Amity Parker posted it on social media platform meant for the public, no one would know. Hacking would be impossible without ghost resistant tech and visitors wouldn’t be able to expose anything without it so truly there was no downside to this unless someone slipped.

Inside jokes on Phantom and Amity Park were a norm often leaving others confused before scrolling and moving on. In fact most of the posts coming from Amity Park are ignored by the masses. But not this one. No this time someone just had to post a thirst trap edit of him under the “think I need someone older” sound with the caption “when he fits the Bill 😍😍“ on tiktok.

And he knows it’s meant to tease him because of the Invis-o-Bill reference (which fuck whoever’s acc that was for bringing that up) but why did it have to go viral?? Like yes he knows this is a joke on him being “older” because of time travel shenanigans and “colder” because of his ice and “take the weight off your shoulders” because he’s a hero. But why??

Now he had people simping over him and wanting to know more about him and Amity Park (and man where they overjoyed to let others know about their local (and favorite) hero). And just when he thought his undead life couldn’t get any worse, the fucking JL had to show up after he was kidnapped (summoned) by some crazy ass cult. Even worse, their sidekicks immediately recognized him as the quote unquote “hot dead hero from tiktok”. Someone finish killing him now.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc crossover #ghost king danny #ghost king danny phantom #good parents jack and maddie #Idk about vlad though #Danny is 18 or older #your choice on who posted the tiktok #the thirst trap was meant as an actual thirst trap #but op didn’t want Danny to know it was real so they made the invis-o-bill reference #Danny is embarrassed about all the good attention he’s been receiving from non amity parkers #it’s strange but nice

[thebibliosphere]

From what I've seen, I think the Batkids would like your book.

Hunger Pangs? You flatter me.

But also, yes thank you for this particular strain on self-indulgent brain rot. I am going to be absolutely abnormal about this.

I’d like to imagine Dick picks it up at an airport somewhere on his way back from a trip and becomes hooked on the “clever, pretty, jumps-from balconies-for-the-thrill-of-the-fall vampire and goes, “oh, same.”

The fact that it’s got a rugged, soldiery werewolf with a heart of gold who enforces self-care as a form of kink-play is also doing stuff to his brain. (That’s a thing? He can… he can ask someone for that? Who does he ask for that? It’s been weeks since he slept more than a few hours and ate more than cereal for dinner. Seriously, who does he ask? How much is it? He’s got money. He’ll pay.) The uh, the need for validation and the budding praise kink is also hitting a little too close to home.

As is “all powerful witch with the power to pick you up with her mind and throw you around like a rag doll.” (LiStEN, he spent a large chunk of his formative years surrounded by tight spandex suits, villains with sexy mind control pollen and getting kidnapped and tied up every other week. It’s not his fault he’s Like This.)

He’s not mad about it, though.

*

Babs catches him re-reading it during downtime. She’s not even that interested, more asking what it is to be polite, but the way Dick jumps and turns red, like he didn’t even realize she was in the room is… intriguing.

“I can see why you like it,” she says, several days later, casually drinking her coffee while Dick stares straight ahead, willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Magic, politics. Saving the world from certain doom with the power of knowledge and ecological preservation.” She glances sideways at him. “Vlad’s got some interesting quirks.”

“Shut up.”

“Are we sure you’ve not been compromised?”

“Babs, I mean it.”

“Mean what?” Tim appears in the kitchen as though from nowhere, pouring a red bull into the coffee pot.

No one tries to stop him.

“Dick’s reading a new book,” Babs says, ignoring the murderous look Dick sends her way.

“Oh? What book? Is it any good?”

“Uh, yeah, uh.” Dick rubs at the back of his neck, glaring daggers at Babs as she rolls out of the room, cackling. “It’s uh, romance. Kind of silly actually…”

“Oh?”

Dick nods. “It’s got a vampire and a werewolf. Two guys. And a… well she’s just sort of magic. They break into a library to save the world from ecological disaster. They’re all bi. Together. Or they will be in the next book. This one’s more about the vampire and the werewolf getting together. Um...”

Tim’s gone very still in the way he does when his brain has caught hold of something and he’s absolutely about to let it consume him. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Dick shrugs. “It’s got some kink in it,” he warns, not wanting to expose his younger brother to something he’s not ready for. Which is ludicrous because he’s Robin. And from the way Tim’s not drinking his ‘coffee’ he can tell this is only going to go one way no matter what he says. He brightens, remembering something. “But there’s, like, a non smutty version too? Or a less smutty version, I guess? I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet. I could, we could go to the bookstore, maybe stop at the art store too…”

“I’ll meet you in the car.”

*

“So,” Jason says, and Dick can already tell where this is going by the shit-eating grin on his face. “Vampires, huh? Or is it more the werewolves you’re into?”

“Who told you?” Dick bemoans. “Was it Babs?” He bets it was Babs. Fucking Babs.

“Oh, no one told me anything Boy Wonder. Tim found out the author has a go-fund-me for some medical shit that exceeded his monthly allowance and he’s been harassing Bruce to “fix it” for several days now. He’s down in the cave making a nuisance of himself right now. Apparently he quote “needs more of the bisexual monster books Dick told him about” unquote, and the author can’t do shit if she up and fucking dies because this country’s a fucking for-profit shit hole.”

Dick places his head in his hands. “Oh, God. Is Bruce mad? He’s mad, isn’t he?”

Jason shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you. Last I heard, Tim was playing him the audiobook over the bat computer to make his case.”

Dick let’s his head thump against the table. This is it. This is his villain origin story. He’s going to run away and join the Rogues. Or maybe he’ll go back to the Circus. Either option is better than the idea of having to meet Bruce’s eye later over the dinner table.

“Personally, I thought the plot was a little weak but the characters are compelling,” Jason says, sipping his herbal tea. “I liked the chill necromancer doctor. I feel like he’d be able to fix me.”

#batfam #hunger pangs: true love bites #I’m sorry #I am so sorry how self-indulgent this is #But also i don’t care

[darkeunology]

♡ I told you so ♡

Word count: 2803

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, classic Criminal Minds stuff

Summary: After you get injured on an undercover case, Aaron finally admits the feelings he's kept secret from you.

Not requested

Go easy on me here, this is the first thing I've written for way too long!

“Conference room in 5. We have a new case” Aaron spoke from the door of his office, snapping your attention from the files you were currently going through. It was only you and Derek currently down in the bullpen, the other either already in the conference room, or just a few feet from you making themselves their morning coffee. 

As bad as it sounds, a rush of excitement would always go through you whenever a new case came around, you knew you’d actually be doing some help today instead of just sitting at your desk. As important as the files and reports were to do, you couldn’t deny how much you liked being out in the field. 

After grabbing yourself a small coffee, something just to keep the hint of tiredness away, you went over to the conference room, taking your normal seat at the table and turning on your tablet just as Hotch walked through the door grabbing your attention the way he normally does whenever you see him. 

Once he’d taken his seat your attention shifted over to Derek, a smirk plastering his face. Your cheeks felt hot as you mouthed for him to ‘shut up’- Derek was your closest friend within the BAU, along with Penelope, those two being the only people who knew you had quite a large, very inappropriate crush on your boss; the two would always insist that there was a chance Hotch felt the same, telling you about the stolen glances they would see him send your way, the longing looks he would apparently send every so often when you weren’t looking but they were - but you never believed a word, after all it would be way to inappropriate, right? 

It wasn’t until you were on the plane heading to Miami when Derek came up to speak to you, far enough away from Hotch that he wouldn’t hear you guys whispering, 

“You make it too obvious sometimes.” Derek chuckled as he sat opposite you, demanding your attention as you put your book down to listen to him. You glanced to your left at Spencer, making sure he wasn’t listening to the two of you, 

“I don’t know what you mean Derek.” You feigned ignorance, hoping he wouldn’t press you further on the matter, but as you were expecting, he kept on going. 

“Yes you do. I see the look you give whenever he walks into a room. In fact I’m amazed it’s only me and Penelope who know about it.” He grinned at you, glancing up at the same time as you as Emily stopped next to you, 

“You both know about what?” She asked, smiling nicely yet with a small hint of menace. 

“Nothing.” You quickly blurted out, not being rude at all just trying to change the conversation. 

“Y/N has a little crush.” Derek spoke, smirking at Emily now, he didn’t tell her who, knowing how much you didn’t want others knowing exactly who it was. Emily glanced towards the back of the plane, exactly at where Hotch was sitting, 

“On Hotch right?” She whispered, just loud enough for the two of you to hear, she sat down, chuckling loudly at the bewildered look on your face, Derek snickered at this, trying to hide his smile behind his hands, 

“What the fuck?” You spoke, still in disbelief, you glared at Derek, almost accusingly, causing him to speak, 

“I haven’t said a word. You know I wouldn’t.” he raised his hands in a mock surrender. He was right, you knew he would only ever tell people you had a crush on someone, like he just did, he would never actually tell anyone that it was on Hotch. 

“You seem to forget you’re a profiler who works with other profilers, in fact both of you seem to forget that. It’s obvious you like him, and it’s obvious he likes you back.” 

Shaking your head in disbelief you spoke, “Okay, first of all he doesn’t like me back, he’s my boss, why would he? I’m probably way too young for him as well. Secondly, don’t say anything to anyone else.” Derek rolled his eyes at the first part of your statement, stopping Emily before she could speak again, 

“Don’t bother trying to convince her, me and Pen have tried way too many times now, she’ll never believe us.” 

Emily sighed, “Alright then, but I’m saying I told you so when you both figure it out.” She spoke to you, a fond smile on her face. 

Rolling your eyes you picked your book back up, reading until you landed as Emily and Derek schemed opposite you. 

—-----

Long nights were just a normal part of this job, you all knew that, but this night felt longer than most. Miami police had called you guys in after a serial killer had taken yet another victim, a local high school student. The killer had almost no pattern, taking only females under the age of 25, most of them still being students, but from multiple different schools around the district. All you could tell from his behaviour was that he was a male and most likely a student himself. You’d already been in Miami for 3 days now, with two bodies found since you’d gotten here and one more just been taken.

“I can tell none of us are willing to go back to the hotel right now so I’m ordering us some food.” Hotch spoke, putting down the file he was in the middle of reading. It was almost a chain effect of everyone putting down the files they were reading, all of you realising how hungry you truly were. 

“There’s a chinese just down the road I’ve heard a bunch of cops say is great.” JJ spoke, the exhaustion evident in her voice.

“Alright, I’ll be back in 20.” Hotch stood from his chair, putting his suit jacket back on, it was only 9pm so it wasn’t too late to be eating, but it was later than most of you would still be at the precinct for. 

“Y/N, why don’t you go too, help out with carrying food back.” Emily spoke, grinning at you in a way that wouldn’t look suspicious to anyone else in the room other than you and Derek. 

“I could do with some air anyway” you mumbled, standing and grabbing your jacket, following Hotch out of the room and down the street. Neither of you spoke much to each other, both too nervous and both oblivious to each other's nerves. Stolen glances were shared between the two of you whenever the other wasn’t looking, both of you dying to tell each other how you felt but both being too afraid of rejection. It wasn’t until you’d grabbed the food and were walking back that you said something you remember seeing in the case files. 

“We can predict where he’s going to grab his next victim.” you mumbled to yourself, just loud enough that Hotch was able to hear you, 

“What do you mean?” he asked, stopping to look towards you, both of you not moving, a few feet away from the entrance of the precinct. 

“I might be remembering wrong, but, he’s recently been looking in all the clubs and pubs near the campus right? Maybe we can try and figure out which one he’d go for next. There has to be a pattern in where he’s hunting.” Hotch nodded as you finished speaking, looking thoughtful. 

“I think you might be right” He smiled as he started walking again, going into the precinct with you following behind.

—---

Food was forgotten for you as you flipped through the files in front of you, Hotch explaining to everyone what you had told him outside, the others listening intently as they started eating the food. 

“Kumiko.” You spoke, seeing the pattern in the files, “That’s where he’ll go next.”

“How do you know?” Spencer asked.

“He’s looped around. He’s only hunting at the same places, going in a circle. He just took the last victim from the first place he ever took someone from, the pattern says he’ll go for Kumiko next. The club he took Katie Rice from, his second victim.”

“Okay, but if we have cops everywhere he’ll just run. We need someone to be undercover inside the club.” Derek sighed, knowing what everyone else in the room knew, 

“And that has to be me right? I’m the only female here that fits the age range. The oldest he’s gone for is 25, the same age as me.” A resigned tone in your voice as you spoke, “Guess I better buy a dress tomorrow then.” 

Hotch hated the idea of you having to be the one to lure out the unsub, but he knew just like the rest of you that they had no other option with how quickly he was killing. 

—----

It was early morning when the last victim was found, dumped in a hedge near the university she was attending, her body mutilated, the unsub getting more and more aggressive with each kill, getting close to a mental break. 

Emily had come with you during the day to buy a dress that would be suitable for a club setting, a dress that showed more skin than you’d like, but you knew it was necessary. The whole day had been spent planning out what would happen and figuring out solutions for every problem they could think might come up. Derek and Emily would also be inside of the club, acting as a couple together to keep an eye on you by yourself. 

Hotch had come to terms with the plan except for one small problem, you couldn’t wear a bulletproof vest under your dress. All he could imagine all day was the plan going wrong and you being hurt before they could get to you - but he knew there was no other plan, they needed to stop this guy before he killed again. 

Luckily for you, the roommate of the last victim was able to identify exactly who the killer was, an older student at the university who the victim brought home the night before she was kidnapped, he was the perfect guy for it, he was in every club the nights people went missing and he had a motive for it all, being rejected by the first girl he murdered, pushing him into a spree of killing other women going to clubs to find a date. 

—-----

It wasn’t long into the night when the unsub came up to you, ordering you a cranberry vodka, the drink you’d had in front of you all night - you’d been nursing a singular drink, under orders from Hotch, you needed to look like you were actually at the club for a reason, not having a drink wouldn’t look quite right. 

“She’s with him, Hotch.” Derek spoke into his comms, letting the team outside know you’d found him. They were waiting down the next street outside, further away than you wanted them to be. 

The drink in front of you remained untouched as you left with the man, Derek and Emily watching you intently as you left, letting the team know immediately, both following you out of the club a few feet behind to not be suspicious at all. 

What you didn’t know was that the unsub knew exactly who you were, he’d seen you on the news, an interview where JJ was speaking to the press where you were seen walking behind her with Derek into the precinct from a cop car after you’d been taken by one to a crime scene. Almost the moment you left the club, the team came round the corner, your hand going to the gun hidden under your dress when the unsub got to his first, pulling the gun out and shooting you in the stomach, running as you fell to the floor, the pain shocking you, your breaths coming in shallow as Derek rounded the corner to the alley you were in, 

“Agent down.” he spoke into comms, kneeling to check on you, “Hey, stay with me. You’re okay.”

You shook your head, “Go, I’m fine. I didn’t get shot for you to let him go.” you insisted, your breathing becoming harder by the minute. 

He nodded, a sad look in his eyes, “Hotch I’m going after him.” Derek shouted at the team just coming round the corner.

“All of you, go.” Hotch shouted back, taking Derek’s place at your side as the rest of the team ran off to find the unsub. “I need an ambulance to Kumiko club, we have an agent down with a gunshot wound to the abdomen.” Hotch spoke into his radio. 

“It hurts.” you whispered to Hotch, tears spilling from your eyes as he sat down, pulling your head into his lap, his hands pressing against your wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. 

“I know it does, just stay with me. God please stay with me.” he practically begged as blood spilled from your lips. 

“I don’t think I can.” you mumbled, your strength slowly slipping out of you, your body going numb. 

Hotch pressed down harder, almost sobbing himself as the team came back down the alley, the unsub being caught and arrested, Derek and Emily stood near the two of you as Hotch spoke, not caring if the team heard him, “I’m so in love with you. Please Y/N. Stay awake. For me, please.” He begged. 

Derek’s phone ringing broke the silence that followed as you shut your eyes, the pain becoming too much for you, “Pen,” he answered, 

“Who was hurt? I had an alert for an agent down, don’t tell me it was Y/N.” She spoke down the phone, Derek putting it on speaker, 

“It was babygirl…” Sirens interrupted Derek as an ambulance arrived, paramedics jumping out and coming to your aide, making Hotch move away so they could help you. He was so adamant to not move that Rossi had to help him stand, Derek coming to help as Hotch fought back, 

“Let them help her, Hotch. Let them help!” Derek almost shouted as he helped move Hotch away, the phone still somehow in his hands, “paramedics are here, they’re helping now. I’ll let you know alright.” he spoke down the phone, hanging up on Penelope as he helped hold Hotch so he wouldn’t go back down. 

—-----

The team stayed in Miami for a few days after the case was wrapped up to keep an eye on you, waiting for you to wake up after your surgery. Hotch stayed by your bedside the entire time. His words to you had spread around the team, all of them now knowing about his confession to you. 

A week after your surgery you were transferred to Virginia so the team could come home. Hotch had to go back to work as you laid in the hospital, still not awake. He’d been too busy with case files that he wasn’t even aware when you woke up, or when you were discharged and told you could go home, Derek being the one to help get you home, and helping confirm to you that yes, Hotch had indeed told you he was in love with you.

Much to Derek’s dismay, you asked him to take you to the BAU instead of home, promising you’d go home after talking to Hotch. You needed to know from him that he’d said anything. 

Hotch was stood at Emily’s desk, talking with her about a file she’d given to him when you walked through the doors, Penelope being the first to notice you, 

“Y/N my darling! You’re back!” she squealed, walking over to you quickly, hugging you gently, “How are you?” 

“I’m good, Pen. I feel good.” you nodded, looking past her to Hotch, who’d now turned to face you, the whole team watching as you walked up to him, “You told me you loved me.” you stated, standing in front of him, 

“Yes.” Hotch nodded, looking at you gently, his hand reaching out for a second, about to hold you before he thought better and moved his hand back.

“While you thought I was dying in your arms,” you continued, 

“Yes.” He nodded again,

You stepped closer to him, “Well, I’m still alive. Care to repeat that?” you smiled up at him, watching as his face broke into a grin, 

“I’m in love with you Y/N.” he spoke, his hand now reaching out to gently grasp your hip.

“Well, Aaron, I’m in love with you too.” you smiled, your cheeks heating up at the fact you’d finally said it out loud.

The last thing you heard before kissing Aaron was Emily’s voice, cockily exclaiming to you, “I told you so.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner masterlist #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

[after-witch]

TPOF!Ren Imagine

Title: TPOF!Ren imagine [Ren Hana x Reader]

Synopsis: What if you were taken by Strade? What if you escaped, leaving Ren behind? And what if you just happened to bump into Ren, years later?

Word count: 2100ish

note: kidnapped reader, drugging, descriptions of violence and torture, scars, kidnapping, descriptions of noncon sex, just a stream of consciousness written imagine that I did before bed because I have no self control, take that as you will

Imagine Strade has kept you. You spend weeks, months--more?--being tortured in ways you could never have imagined. But you live. Somehow or another, you live.

You're kept there, like Ren, as an interesting pet. And the two of you share a tentative bond, in time. He did help you, after all...

But... you're afraid of Ren. A little. Not because he's ever been mean to you or hurt you without Strade forcing him to--but because you know that Strade can be fickle. He might decide he likes Ren better, and get rid of you.

Or maybe someone else he brings home will catch his eye, and he'll ponder getting rid of one of you... and who is more likely to go to make room for another long term victim, you wonder, the boy with fox ears or plain, simple you? It's obvious.

So sometimes, you're afraid of Ren. Afraid that Ren's existence will eventually mean your demise.

But you have your moments together.

Moments where you curl up in Ren's nest of a bed, letting his warm tail wrap around you, ignoring the way your shock collars occasionally clink together while you snuggle. Sometimes you whisper things to each other. Hopes. Fears. Secrets. Dreams for the future, which are sometimes shared fantasies of escaping together, going somewhere, starting anew.

There are shared pains, too. You sneak into the bathroom and clean each other's wounds, as much as you know Strade will allow without crossing an unspoken boundary. You press cool cloths to his burning cuts, he gently massages your healed but always-aching broken fingers.

Sometimes, Strade makes you hurt each other. Usually, Ren wins out in the end. But you have no chance against claws. You don't hold it against Ren after the fact, but sometimes when you're sharing a bed at night or a quiet moment when Strade is out of the house, you can't help but think about the way his claws rip through your flesh or the way his knot hurt when Strade yanked him out early.

And one day... Strade is dead. You scream for Ren when it happens--some new victim he's captured finally getting one over on him, not without their own fatal wounds--and Ren watches Strade die, and you watch Strade die, and then the two of you are standing over his gaping-mouth corpse.

The two of you head upstairs, the basement thick with quiet, and for the first time you don't have to worry about hearing Strade's footsteps come up them.

Ren's collar comes off first. Then he helps you with yours.

And you should--say something. You should tell him that the two of you will leave, go to the police, find an apartment, figure out what to do--something, anything.

But in the moment, you panic. You panic because you see in Ren's eyes that he wants you to stay with him and you're so afraid of being trapped again.

You bolt. You bolt out the front door and don't look back. You hear Ren shout your name and the pad of his feet up to the front door, but he doesn't cross the threshold.

You should go back for him. You should tell the police that he's there. But you're afraid. Your face was on Strade's streams. Who knew what sort of people watched them? What if you were recognized? Strade wasn't shy about the fact that powerful people watched his streams. What if... one of them was connected with the police department?

And so you don't say a damn thing. You pick up the pieces of your life and there's a part of you that you left in that damned house with Ren that rots and festers, but you can't let it stop you. You hate yourself for leaving. You hate yourself for not going back.

But you might have hated yourself if you stayed, too.

And then it's been years... and years.... and years.

You still suffer from your time with Strade. Mentally. Physically. The scars have faded, but they never go fully away, some white-blanched and others still retaining a tinge of vivid pink. You hate those the most.

And there's the aches and pains, too. Arthritis in your fingers and hands. A fracture in your foot that didn't heal properly, but you didn't have the health insurance to get it fixed, and now you walk with a limp and cane on bad days.

You get nightmares. Most of the time, you're right back in the house or the basement. Being tortured. Slow and thick dreams that are usually coupled with sleep paralysis. Ren is in them, sometimes, and he's scared and hateful and you wake up with that gnawing, awful guilt.

But you force it down. You have to--Ren was an adult, too, just like you. That's how you cope with the guilt. You tell yourself that he left the house and found himself a small place to live and he's doing fine out there. Working at a bookshop or some anime collectible store. Something that helps him get by. He'll have scars and nightmares, too, but he'll be okay, for the most part.

Just like you are.

Because you've moved on as much as one could, considering. You have a spouse--ten years together, now--and a house with a little yard and a career that leaves you comfortable enough, financially. You don't have kids but your spouse has nieces and nephews that you enjoy spoiling now and then, and that's enough for you.

You were so hyper-vigilant after your initial escape. You wore wigs, and went outside only rarely. You hopped around from place to place, used fake names. You had locks upon locks upon locks on your doors. You never went home the same way twice.

But over time... you gradually stopped worrying. When 1 year became 5 years became 10 years, when time aged your face and slowed your racing heart. When you got a long-term partner and stopped hopping to new places every year, terrified that someone would come find you.

Over the years, you stop looking over your shoulder everywhere you go. You stop assuming every stranger staring at you on the bus recognizes you from Strade's streams and is going to kidnap you and kill you. You stop thinking about it as an immediate threat and treat it like past trauma--to be dealt with, sure, but to be tucked away for your sanity.

And one day, one ordinary little day, you're walking around a secondhand collectible store to look for a particular book when you bump into someone.

The first thing you notice is that they're wearing a nice suit, tailored, like they're going to a business meeting or live in a big city where such outfits are considered casual wear.

The second thing you notice, when you look up at their face with an apology on your lips, is that underneath the hat that they lift every so gently, they have fox ears and scars and red hair peppered with just a dash of silver.

It takes you a moment. Two moments. Three moments.

It's Ren.

Older, like you. But Ren, clear as day, there is no doubt about it.

Relief and an awful, stomach-churning anxiety spread through your gut at the exact same time.

"Ren?"

He doesn't react at first, merely stares at you, and your nightmares come back to you: those nightmares where he hates you, where he tells you that you left him there like he's nothing, where he throws back all your whispered conversations in the dark back in your face.

And then a little smile splits his face and the gut-churning fear in your stomach recedes just enough for you not to shake when he places two hands on your shoulders, steady, and firm.

"Hey. It's okay. It's been a long time."

You break into something like a laugh, and tears prick at your eyes before sliding down your cheeks.

"How..." You don't know what to ask first. How is this possible? How are you? Why are you here? Are you okay?

And finally you settle on something that's eaten away at your soul, bit by bit, since you ran away.

"I'm... sorry." You can't look him in the eye. "I shouldn't have just left that day. But I was scared, and I--"

He places a finger to your lips, and the claw at the end seems sharper now, polished and carefully filed.

"Don't," he says. "It doesn't matter now." He has a coolness to his voice, a shrugging tone to it all. You wonder if it matches your own tone, sometimes, when you're confronted with reminders of the past.

"Do you... want to get coffee or something?" You ask, and you immediately feel stupid, asking if someone who was tortured alongside you (who hurt you, too--but he had to) for coffee like they were an old high school friend.

But he smiles, a little grinning pep to it now, a little bit of an edge with his teeth showing, and says, "Sure."

You leave the shop together, book forgotten, intent on catching up.

It should bother you, that he didn't look actually surprised to see you. It should bother you, that he swept you out of the store so quickly.

But you're too overwhelmed by his presence to notice little things like that.

You don't even notice the black car parked down the street that turns only only when Ren leads you into a coffee shop, pulling around the corner into a nearby alleyway.

You don't think twice about Ren texting someone after you arrive. You don't think twice about Ren ordering for you, motioning for you to find a seat, insisting on taking both cups to the little stand with sugar and creamers himself.

You don't think twice about the taste of the coffee being a little off. Ren put in too much sugar, probably. You used to take it much sweeter, back then, when Strade allowed the two of you to indulge in cup after cup to stay awake for nighttime streams.

It's a shame the hyper-vigilance ebbed away, really, because if you had noticed any one of these things, maybe you would have left the situation. Though, in the end, would it have stopped him?

You focus on awkward small talk. Asking what he's been up to (running his own business) and how he feels (better than ever) and whether he's okay (are you?).

He asks you questions, too, and you find yourself spilling it all too easily. You talk about your spouse, your cute little home, the garden you planted, the books you've read, the little career you've built. You ask if he still likes anime and he smiles, and then your hand is on his arm--you can see some of the scars on his hand, and your own, too--and feel so bad so you start to apologize again---

That's when things get... woozy. Your hand slips from his arm, and you can't grasp your coffee cup. You mumble something about not feeling good.

Ren is standing right away, helping you to your feet. He pulls out his phone and says he'll call an ambulance. You try to wave it off, you're fine, you're just overwhelmed, you didn't eat much today. He insists you sit down and if you weren't so dizzy you might realize something is wrong as he leads you down the street, into an alleyway, where at the end there is a shiny black car with tinted windows.

"I'll take you to get some help," he says, and you don't question it, because your mind is foggy and you can't see straight, and it's just Ren, isn't it? It's just Ren.

It's not until you're bundled into the car with Ren taking the spot next to you in the backseat, his worried expression smoothed over into something cool and triumphant, that the sense of wrongness hits you. Even through the fog of your mind, it hits you.

"Ren? Ren?"

"Shh."

That finger is back on your lips, but this time his finger pivots sideways, a claw lightly tracing one of your facial scars. You can feel it slicing open, like a papercut.

The little blossom of pain is a good distraction for the punch of the needle that he jabs into your thigh a moment later.

You have just enough time to gasp and mutter something, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Nothing comes out. You see him watch you for a moment, eyes half-lidded, before he stares ahead at the driver.

"We'll have time to talk later. When the drugs wear off."

The last thing you see before unconscious is his smile, almost a grin.

#the price of flesh #tpof #ren hana #btd2 #boyfriend to death #afterwitch writes #mmm I wanna flesh this out into a fic #but just brain dump for now

[beastofburdenxo]

Consider It Done

Tommy kidnaps his biggest enemy's daughter as payback. But, things aren't always what they seem.

Allusions of violence, mention of abuse, no smut.

You woke up in what looked like a dreary basement. Your throat was dry, and your head felt funny. All you remember is just walking down the street and having a wet rag being shoved over your face from behind. Assuming that it was chloroform, because you were knocked out immediately after that.

You hear a door being opened and someone walking down the stairs. For some reason, you dash into a dark corner, thinking that it was going to save you. An oil lamp is turned on, illuminating the space and the man before you. "There you are love, glad to see you up and alert." A cigarette is lit. "Would you like a smoke?" You ignore the question altogether and respond with one of your own. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"My name is Thomas shelby Love, but you can call me Tommy. I hate meeting like this. It's nothing personal, really, just business. Your father owes me money and isn't taking me seriously, so I did what I had to do."

Your eyes bug out at this information. Of course, your asshole father has made another enemy. And the feared Tommy shelby, the devil of small heath, at that. "And you think taking me will loosen him up? He'd rather die than give up anything of his. To him, people are replaceable, money not so much. I'm sorry that you put in so much work to get me, but honestly, he's probably glad I'm out of his hair."

"Is that right? What a shame that is." Tommy draws off his cigarette. "Such a pretty thing, kidnapped and taken to the devil's mansion, thrown in a basement never to be seen again. Surely he loves you more than that, dear."

"The man killed all of my pets when I refused to marry one of his gross friends. He has burned my clothes before, locked me out of the house. Trust me, Tommy, he doesn't care. He has never liked me and I don't know why."

"You are like a wild horse that can't be broken, and your father can't stand it. You won't bend to his will like most and from where I'm standing, it's like you are his enemy and not his daughter. I'd take it as a compliment. If he liked you, that would mean that you two are similar. I have no desire to harm you, I'll behave if you do. Give it a couple of days, and if he doesn't budge, you are free to go. I'll even give you money for a ticket anywhere you want to go."

You think for a moment. "So you don't want to hurt me? You'd rather help me out?"

Tommy nods, "I see a lot of myself in you. In fact, you promise to be good, I'll let you out of here and into the house. Take it as a mini vacation, time to think. If your father does pay up, you'll still get that ticket out if you'd like. Regardless of what he does or doesn't do, it won't affect you."

You reach for a cigarette, and Tommy obliges. "I can't just leave my mom alone with his ass. He's mean to her too, Tommy. He needs to pay for his sins sooner rather than later."

Tommy chuckles, "You'd make one hell of a peaky blinder. Fiesty and headstrong. Are you looking for a new job, perhaps?"

"Tommy, I'm serious," you reply, "I'd say my mom would give anything for him to be gone. If you took care if it, you'd get your money and then some. It would have to be discreet of course."

"Kidnap victim asking her kidnapper to put a hit out on her own father? That's a new one for me, love. It does sound tempting, I will say. Never had much use for an abusive wife beater."

You stand up with a new sense of purpose. "Either you do it, or when I get out, l will do it myself!"

Tommy comes towards you like he's going to grab you, but he stops himself from touching you. "No, I can't have that. There's no need for an innocent to have blood on her hands. If you aren't successful, he will kill you, love. He won't think twice about it."

Tommy finally reaches out and gently stokes your face, "I don't want the fire to go out of your pretty eyes. Killing a man does that to a person, and you don't deserve that. If you want it done, consider it done. Consider yourself a partner in this and not a helpless victim. My only wish is that once this is all over, I can see you again. With permission, this time, of course. Let me do things the right way. Dinner?"

"Kidnapper asking his victim to dinner once she is released? That's a new one for me Tommy."

You take the cigarette from his mouth, since yours is long gone, and take a drag as if to think about it.

"Consider it done."

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader

[lyomeii]

a mother’s care

-> warnings: yandere themes, afab! reader, death mentions, lightly spoiler from the manga, reader’s a mother and a little tired from the sorcerer worlds, reader can be seeing either as the biological mother or adoptive.

-> request by @rouecentric lyo!! lyo!! i saw that your requests were open and that you write for jjk!! so i wanted to ask if you could write how the first years (and maybe gojo??) would react to a reader that is not only yuji's mom, but also one of the best sorcerers of all time that could be toe to toe in a fight with gojo, but retired to take care of and raise yuji, but returned to being one because of her son's predicament? feel free to remove any characters you don't want to write and have a nice morning/day/night!!!!!

-> a/n: a request from roue themselves? let me do it instead of my tasks. so this was really nice to write it and im happy for it turned out, so I’m hope you will enjoy it, roue. and don’t forget to take care of yourself too :)

❥ everyone in the sorcerer community knew about you, not only one of the most powerful sorcerer of the modern times, but also a beloved person known. a lovely woman that put herself in danger to protect others, the many time when you got hurt by doing it brought you a few scars in your skin, yet it was not enough to stop the many marriage offers from the many sorcerers family, in fact, it only made more and more offers come at you and yet, all of them ended rejected by you.

❥ there is no denying that you are an important figure and once you completely vanished from it once you graduate from jujutsu high, many wonder where did you go. could it be that you were killed? kidnapped? those were plausible theories of course, but actually you just want to become a better mother.

❥ you got into a relationship with a great man, who not only loved you a lot, but treated you like a goddess. and with the relationship between the two of you becoming stronger, a baby entered the family. living the three of you was a calm and sweet life, nothing wrong was going on and yuji was growing like any children, yet you could feel something off about it.

❥ maybe it was the fact he was stronger than most children, i mean, yuji kicked the ball and almost took down a tree once he was ten. another occasion was that time he lift the coach by himself one day prior his fourteen birthday. however, you to ignore it, though that he was just a stronger boy for his age. his father, (before you become a single mother) did said that yuji is just a special boy, do that’s must it, right?

❥ his father was right, yuji is a special boy. once you received a call from a familiar friend who immediately request your presence at jujutsu high in behalf of your son’s recently events. arriving at that place brought many memories and seeing your beloved son inside that room, hearing of his future execution once he swallow sukuna’s fingers from the higher up and make things worse, his grandfather died just a few days ago.

❥ things aren’t easier, that’s why you return to being a sorcerer. yuji, well, was really shocked and surprised by your reveal, include of the others experience sorcerers talked about your past actions during your high school years. “you are so powerful!” his words and sparkling eyes are more than enough to make things better. too be closer with him, you decided to move to a residence nearby the school, not wanting to lose a moment in his life.

❥ someone who was way happier with your return was gojo. he literally hugged you once you confirmed that you would be staying around to take care of yuji, gaining even more hugs from him. even after years and incidents, he still almost the same boy you helped train years ago. the only difference being he is tall as a door now. making you feel so small and young even though you are older than him.

❥ the others were also quite happy to see you around once again, nanami looked at you like a ghost from the past and took a while before he gained courage to talk with you. a smile in your face was so sweet as you two interact and when yuji enters the conversation, the three of you look so cute together.

❥ now the students are shocked with your presence. none of them knew expected to yuji has a mother or the fact you are special grade sorcerer like their teacher. nobara was the loudest one to introduce herself while the others glare at her for not giving any personal space. maki was intrigued by the rumors of how excellent are you with swords and daggers, asking if you are willingly to train her for a few times.

❥ it’s clear the students have a soft for you despite being way more powerful than them, even yuji, the same boy you raised since he was little has become quite protective of you. ignoring how soft they are with you, it’s nice to taught them during school hours. making them learning new way to protect themselves is a nice way to bond, slightly making you an unofficial teacher at tokyo high.

❥ as times goes on, it’s clear how things are becoming more dangerous than ever before. yuji sometimes loses control over sukuna and hurts people over it, making you even more concerned about his state. sometimes, you wonder if you just could grab him and run away from all this mess. yet, you fear the many consequences over it and can only dream about it on your own thoughts.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere yuji itadori #yandere gojo satoru #yandere platonic #yandere platonic x reader #afab reader #yandere x female reader #x female reader #female y/n

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Lucifer who falls for a hell born reader who’s maybe a hell hound who works at the hotel for free as long as she’s helping; hcs please.

I don't watch Helluva Boss but I do have a vague understanding of Hellhounds in this universe so... I'll try my best :) Again I altered the idea a little bit but I hope you still like it.

Edit: The note is outdated as now I do watch Helluva Boss. It's good, ignore past me.

Yandere! Lucifer with Hellhound! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Unhealthy power dynamic, Manipulation, Degrading behavior (You're called a good girl due to being a Hound, idk if it counts), Possessive/Protective behavior, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior, Possible kidnapping, Dubious relationship/companionship.

Alright, according to my research, Hellhounds are Hellborn who rank under Imps.

They are bottom of the ladder Demons who are used for labor, pets, or guards of some sort.

Hellborn are unable to be redeemed, as a result they don't typically bother with the Hotel.

However... Here's my idea.

You were originally some sort of nanny or guard for Charlie.

Either Lucifer or Lilith had appointed you, a Hellhound, to care for Charlie when they can't.

This resulted in you staying at the Hotel with Charlie.

The Hotel is a home to you, plus you care for Charlie and help in any way you can.

Lucifer's obsession wouldn't start until he visits the Hotel.

He knows about you, the Hellhound that was taken in because his daughter saw you and got so damn excited.

You had no home, so Charlie's parents allowed you in.

You were so nice with his little girl.

You were an adult female Hellhound who left the Gluttony Ring to find a job in the Pride Ring.

Upon being offered the job of guard and caretaker by Lucifer/Lilith, you take it gratefully.

Since then you'd been caring for Charlie, a loyal servant and guard dog.

The last time Lucifer saw you was when Lilith took Charlie.

Being the ever loyal hound you were, you followed them obediently and left Lucifer alone.

When Lucifer enters the Hotel, he is surprised to be greeted by you.

You're surprised to see him and smell his familiar scent, but you bow and lead him inside.

It... caused Lucifer to smile upon realizing someone does still care.

"There's no need for the bow, girl... we can be casual. Now, how's Charlie? Been treating her well?"

Lucifer wasn't expecting to be so happy when seeing you again.

Maybe it's the depression and the fact his wife left him.

For some reason... he feels a bit attached to you.

Even more so when he sees how loyal you are toward Charlie, often protecting her and receiving pats on your head.

It feels a bit strange for him... but he does think he's falling in love again in some way.

Lucifer probably just yearns for companionship of any kind.

Be that platonic love or romantic love.

You've always been such a big help for him and his family since they took you in.

I mean... you already parent Charlie more than him at times.

Lucifer is noticeably awkward when he tries to reconnect and speak with anyone in the Hotel.

However, he seems to talk fine with you for the most part, often asking about Charlie and how you've been throughout the years, you got your Hellbies shot, right?

Lucifer has trouble understanding his feelings towards you, he may even be a bit delusional.

Yet... he seems rather intent on getting closer to you since he entered the Hotel.

Now, here's where I'm just going to talk little HCs of Lucifer with a Hellhound! Darling.

He definitely would call you a "good girl".

That along with petting you or calling you into his lap.

Lucifer would give you a kiss on the forehead and often just likes holding you to feel your soft fur.

I imagine he's possessive of your attention at times due to feeling neglected by those he loves.

Lucifer may make you rubber duckies as gifts.

He's also asking about you with Charlie since he thinks out of anyone Charlie knows you best.

Definitely thinks you also love him just as much, even if you just see him as a master or some sort more than a partner.

If he's jealous or irritated with something, you calm him down by jumping in his lap and licking his face.

It shocks him for a moment, even if he knows that's just how Hellhounds show affection, but soon it just melts him.

I prefer a dubious pairing in this, but you can see him with a Hellhound darling in either way as you're a guard to Charlie.

He may also be protective since you're such a precious person to him.

With Lucifer... he plans to not make you feel like you're low on Hell's hierarchy.

You're not just a peasant to him.

You're his Hellhound, his good girl who has always been loyal...

Unlike others he's loved....

You aren't a pet to him, although some Hellhounds are often seen that way.

You're someone he sees as family of some kind, you make him and his daughter happy.

You always have...

Which is why he doesn't like the idea of letting you go.

You're loyal to Charlie but respect Lucifer.

Loyal to the point of never leaving the Hotel...

But... what if he ordered you to?

What if he asked Charlie to let him borrow you for company.

He promises you it's okay to part from Charlie for a bit.

He'll return you to the Hotel in due time (He won't).

Lucifer doesn't want to be alone again right now...

You'll be a good girl and listen to your master, yeah?

"The pets feel nice, don't they? There's my loyal girl... missed you so much...! Don't worry about Charlie, she's a big girl now. You've done your part. Just worry about me... alright? Don't need you to go back to the Hotel right now... just need you here with me!"

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer morningstar

[thealtoduck]

Being Helen of Troy’s son and being ”rescued” by Percy Jackson…

Percy Jackson x Male Reader

Warnings: Reader is kidnapped by a creepy giant who wants to marry him…

Summary: You get taken by a giant for your beauty and Zeus sends a hero to rescue you…

——

After Helen died in ancient times Zeus brought her up to Olympus and made her immortal, but that wasn’t the last time she set foot on earth. She had a child with a mortal, a son she would name ”Y/n”, leaving him to be raised by his father in New York.

Many years later he would find out about his heritage but in a harsh way…

One day when you were walking home late at night a giant man had snuck up behind him, grabbed him and shoved him in to a giant burlap sack.

He didn’t know how long he was in the sack but the next thing he knew he was emptied out of the sack on to hard cobblestone floor, looking around it looked like he had been taken to some kind of dirty old castle or fortress.

He looked up at the person who had taken him, it was a giant man dressed in torn ancient greek robes, he was tall and muscular but with a nasty looking face. ”Who are you? What do you want?” You questioned scared.

The man spoke up in a hoarse sounding voice saying ”I am Tityos, i have taken you son of Helen to be mine”. ”Son of who?” You questioned confused. He ignored you and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and carried you up to a tower.

He pushed you in to a room and growled ”We are to be married in a week”. He then slammed the door behind you and locked it.

Despite being extremely confused by the fact that a man dressed as if he was from ancient greece had kidnapped you calling you a ”Son of Helen”, you did your best trying to think of a way to escape.

After being carried in the burlap sack for hours your clothes were sweaty, the only type of change Tityos had provided were greek chitons kind of like the ones he was wearing. You changed in to one.

After changing you got an idea, there was a window in the room, you opened it, the fortress you were in was on the top of a tall mountain, further down the mountain you could see the lights of a village.

If you could tie together all of the chitons, the curtains and sheets, you could make a makeshift rope to climb out of the foretress and down from the tower and then go down to the village and find the authorities.

You immediately got to work tying together the different fabrics. It was going to take a while to make a rope that was long enough to go down to the ground and also hold your bodyweight.

It took days and you had to hide what you worked on everytime Tityos came by to give you food. Luckily you could always hear him coming because he wasn’t exactly quiet.

The rope was almost finished and it was the night before the day you were meant to be married to Tityos. You frantically worked as you tied the bed sheets to your now probably almost 70 feet long rope. Then you heard something behind you, a loud thump.

You turned around and saw someone scrambling to climb up in through the open window. The person in the window then managed to get in and said to themselves while panting heavily ”Gods, i’m never taking a mission for him ever again”.

The stranger then looked up making you see he wasn’t actually much of a stranger, that black hair, those green eyes…

”Percy…? Percy Jackson…?” You questioned confused. It was one of your classmates. But a bit different… instead of being dressed as usual he had a orange t-shirt covered by some light armour.

”Y/n?!” He asked loudly making you hush him and whisper ”Tityos might hear you”. ”You’re the son of Helen?” Percy questioned. ”I don’t know, i don’t even know what that’s supposed mean and why are you here?” you stated.

Percy then started ”Boy, this i gonna take a while to explain, so basically…” he then proceded to explain that the greek gods were all real, that you were the son of Helen of Troy and that he had gotten a mission from Zeus to rescue you from Tityos.

”Okay that was… that was a lot” you commented. You then realised something ”Wait? How did you get up here? You’ve got a ladder?” You questioned going over to the window to check.

”No, i flew here” he stated. ”You can fly?” You questioned. ”No no no, but my pegasus can, the winds were strong so he couldn’t stop outside so i had to jump and grab on to the window and climb in, but when we get out he’ll be waiting a bit further down the mountain” he said and then realised something.

”But first we have to find a way out” he said looking around you then gestured to your several feet long makeshift rope. ”That could work” he said and he helped you finish it. You then tied the rope around the bed and threw the rest out window.

It reached all the way down, you and Percy started climbing out the window and down the rope. You were starting to regret the fact that you were wearing a chiton, as the cold mountain wind hit you.

Once you got down from the tower you and Percy quickly started moving down the mountain. You followed a trail taking you down towards the village and at the end waited a black horse, but it had large wings on it’s sides.

”Y/n, this is Blackjack my pegasus, Blackjack, this is Y/n, my classmate” Percy introduced you to the pegasus. He then helped you climb up on it’s back, he then climbed up in front of you while saying ”Hope you’re not scared of heights”. ”I just climbed out of a 70 feet tall tower, i should be fine” you stated.

”Hold on to me” Percy said and you wrapped your arms around his waist, the pegasus then took off and flew in to the night.

You flew until sunrise and eventually landed in what looked like a summer camp and soon the two of you were surrounded by campers. Suddenly you felt really exposed in your short length chiton.

The campers then parted and half man half horse walked over between them. ”Good job, Percy” he praised the hero. The man then turned to you and said ”Son of Helen, welcome to Camp Half-Blood”.

You decided to stay with Percy at camp for the rest of the summer and as you were technically a legacy of Zeus, you were allowed to stay in Cabin 1.

As you had inherited your mother’s great beauty people were quick to start flirting with you. And as you had no siblings Percy’s friend Annabeth made sure to keep your admirers at a distance. She also gave you a knife and taught you to fight.

Once summer was over you and Percy returned to New York as close friends. And in the future even more if Aphrodite had anything to say about it.

#percy jackson x male reader #percy jackson x male!reader #heroes of olympus x male reader #heroes of olympus x male!reader #pjo x male reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #pjo x male!reader #percy jackson and the olympians x male reader

[appleblueberry-pie]

nanami please with a darling who was injured by someone else 😼

yay more food. my dinner

You sigh as you open the door, taking off your shoes, placing them neatly in their respective places before ridding of all of the other things you brought outside with you. Keys, purse, you kept the small bag of groceries in hand for cooking tonight's dinner. The sun was going down and the sky was turning dark. Kento should be off of work by now.

You sigh once more, eyebrow twitching as you ignore the pang of pain in your lower stomach. You wash your hands before washing the vegetables and turning on the stove. How were you to hide this from him? I mean, you did a great job at patching the wound, making sure the bandages didn't show. I mean.....it wasn't that bad. Just a small robbery accident. It's not like you lost any of your personal items. Your face scrunches in stress as you continue to quickly chop the vegetables.

An hour passes when the front door unlocks. Kento steps through the front door and his shoulders relax at the smell of dinner wafting up his nose. You always knew how to settle him when the day ends. The thought of you puts a smile to his lips as he takes off his shoes, placing them in their respective places as well. He was going to turn around when he felt the familiar warmth of your hand on his shoulder and he turns, seeing your pleasant and radiating smile. "Hey, honey." He murmurs, pressing a soft peck to your lips, and wrapping his arms around your waist. He melts into the soft hug you both share.

"Hey," You reply, "How was work?" He almost pulls you back into the hug when you let go of him and begin taking off his cream colored blazer. "Not much different," you place the blazer on a hanger in the closet and Kento loosens his tie, willing himself to walk towards the kitchen instead of following you. "Just wish I didn't have to spend my time with that unsufferable freak for any longer than 2 minutes. Or 2 hours, for that fact." Nanami rolls his eyes as he recalls the memory of spending his time attempting to exercise a curse with Gojo.

"You mean Gojo? I haven't seen him in a while. How's he been?" You follow him into the kitchen and check on the chuck roast in the oven. Nanami scoffs. "Doesn't matter. I would rather not entertain the thought of him...at least not when I can talk about you." He waits for you to close the oven before softly smiling at you.

"How's your day been? Gone out somewhere? Did anything fun?"

Nanami allowed you to roam freely within the house without him having to watch you a year after kidnapping you. And it took a second year to get him to trust you to never leave the city, and do almost anything you want outside the house without his supervision. When you first were captured, you never ever asked him if you could leave. Because you knew eventually, if you played the long game, you could go back to living as normal as possible. Nanami wasn't.....a bad captor. He certainly was a horrible man deep down, but he never hurt you. Besides, you didn't have to do anything other than be his "wife". You didn't have a job and he always told you to use his card. So you had all of the time in the world to do whatever you pleased.

When you first left without his supervision, it was basically like he was there with the amount of times he called you and texted you to know where you were. You constantly sent him photos of the things you were getting, selfies of yourself, and calling multiple times to "make sure you were alright". He was at the front door already waiting for you when you came back. He was so relieved and was very proud of your behavior, which eventually led to him rewarding you when bedtime came.

You worked so hard to get to this point. And you would rather jump into a boiling pot of water than have your freedom that you worked so hard for taken away from you. The chains. The hand-feeding. The baths. You hated it all. He didn't even let you look at clocks for some reason. You only knew how long it had been since he kidnapped you when your birthday came around. And since then, the dynamic had finally formed into something you could work with.

A pang of pain once again struck you when he asked you that question. You forgot to take pain meds and internally cursed to yourself. You had to hide it from him.

"I went to that coffee shop that you recommended to me. And you were right, it was really nice. I loved their Chai Tea and chocolate chip muffins. We should go sometime." Kento held your hands and stared at you as you spoke. He could stare at you for hours and never get bored. You continued, "Then I went back home to do some cleaning. And when I finished, I realized that I wanted to make roast for dinner, so I left out again to go to the grocery store."

Kento nodded and lightly squeezed your hands. "So I got the groceries," Got shoved into an alleyway and was straddled by the biggest man you've ever seen. Your purse and groceries were knocked out of your hands onto the ground. The man smelled disgusting and his breath wasn't any better. He had a knife in his back pocket, you could see it. When you struggled to get off of him, he pulled it out, immediately going for your throat. You dodged and managed to sock him in his face, which threw him off. You shoved him off of you and scrambled to stand up. He crawled towards you, attempting to quickly get himself onto his feet, swiping the knife in your general direction. Of course, your luck was horrible. It managed to make some sort of gash on your lower stomach.

You gasp more in fear than in pain, making distance between you and your attacker. Neither of you were great at fighting, which made this whole thing so tough to get through. He growled, attempting to make his way towards you again. Your heel dug into his face as you kicked him and he yelped in pain, scrambling back. You took that time to gather your stuff, running out of the alleyway towards the direction of your house. You forced yourself to hide the wound and bought an entire first aid kit at a convenience store on the way back. You stumbled and took it to another dark alley way to deal with the wound yourself. You'd be damned if you were caught bleeding by Kento if he makes it home early. You downed a few pain killers, knowing it wouldn't be enough and opened the kit, grabbing the alcohol to clean the wound. The entire process was a blur, but you gritted your teeth through the stitches. Thank god for your suture training from that one high school internship.

".......and made it back home just in time to start dinner before you got back." A soft smile reached your face as you fiddled your toes together. Kento smiled back and nodded once more. "That sounds great honey. I can't wait to try it. Your cooking never disappoints me." He lets go of one of your hands and caresses your face, thumb slightly swiping under your eye. "You look tired, did you get enough sleep last night?" You leaned into his touch and nodded even though your stomach lurched in nausea. "Yeah." He muttered an 'okay' and kissed your forehead.

"I'm going to take a shower. And if there's anything else you need help with, come tell me." You nodded once more and watched him walk towards the bathroom. When he was out of your sight, you quickly finished up with dinner, taking the roast and vegetables out of the oven.

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

It was around bedtime that Kento really started to feel the affects of his job wear him down. He almost seemed to be excited to go to sleep, immediately crawling under the covers when you curled up on your side of the bed. You sigh to attempt and calm your heart. You were only wearing your nightgown and underwear as usual. But you prayed to whoever was in the sky that Nanami wouldn't touch your bandages.

You hear him turn off the lamp before wrapping his big and warm protective arm around your stomach. He sighed into your neck, silently pecking the area and closing his eyes. He rubs your stomach, getting as close to you as possible to share your body warmth with his. "Goodnight, Ken." He lives for the nicknames you give him and hums in appreciation. "Goodnight, baby-" His eyes slowly open at the feeling of a lump on your lower stomach. Nothing is heard in the house besides his calm breaths, not even yours reaches the air.

Before he can say anything, you softly grab his hand and place it higher to where it was before, eyes still closed. Kento blinks and thinks to himself. "Baby?" You stay silent for a second to pretend you're going to sleep. "Hm?" You respond. He says nothing. But he does attempt to touch it again, to see if he was wrong. You don't let him bring his hand back down.

"What's that?" You caress his hand. "....what's what?" Kento scrunches his eyebrows at your behavior and uses more force to pull his hand down, you don't let him again. "Y/n." You purse your lips and open your eyes. You fucking hate him for even deciding to even touch you tonight. You weren't ready. You didn't know that man was going to hurt you. Why do you have to suffer for the things others have done to you?? A deep force settles in your stomach. You've never felt as anxious and fearful as you did right now.

Kento brings his hand down with no fight this time. He touches the bandages once more before sitting up and removing the covers. He lifts your night gown and sees the long bandage that crosses over your entire lower stomach. "What....?" He shakes his head and lightly brushes his fingers over the bandage before looking up at your face. You don't dare meet his eyes and attempt to control your breathing before you begin crying.

"Y/n, what the fuck is this??" You sit up and hang your legs over the edge of the bed and Kento immediately crawls over the blankets to sit next to you. "Y/n-" "No. Please." You choke out a sob and wipe a tear that falls down your face. Kento brings you into his arms, caressing your head as you cry into his neck. "Oh my god..." Kento mutters into the air as he considers all of the possibilities for why you're hurt. Did you do this to yourself? Fuck, he knew it wasn't safe to let you deal with knives. It looked like a very recent gash, so it must've happened today. It isn't bleeding through, which is good...

Did someone else do this to you? His muscles immediately tense at the thought and his heart drops as he looks down at you. He pulls you out of his embrace and and gently pulls your hands from your face. Your bloodshot eyes and damp face breaks his heart into a million pieces. But not like how seeing that gash did. He coos and wipes your face of the tears as much as he could. "Darling, you know I love you and would do anything to keep you safe, you know that right?"

You sob again and shake your head. "Please don't...I don't wanna-" He cuts you off and tightly grabs your hands. "No. Don't even. I would never force you do anything. I just want you to answer my questions, okay?" He gently grabs your face and stares into your eyes.

"Did somebody do this to you?"

You stay silent.

"..........yes." You whisper.

Kento's face contorts into one of frustration. "Who did this to you?" Your ears ring and you feel yourself get dizzy with nausea. Everything about this just made you think you would end up back at square one. You gulp down bile that threatens to crawl up your throat. "Some guy....that I....saw when I left the store."

"What did he look like?" You shake your head. "I couldn't see his face....he was really big and tall. Wearing all black. 'nd he had a knife. He hit me with it." Kento nodded and pulled you into his arms once more. "Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me." He kisses your forehead and caresses your head. "Good girl. So good for me. Can I check it?" You slowly nod and he creates some space between the two of you to peel back the bandage. He hesitates, not wanting to see the damage. His heart lurches when he slowly peels it back, seeing the stitches that were done. They looked neat and cleaned. "Who did these?"

You look up at him when he puts the corner of the bandage back on your skin. "I did." He remembers that you took a class for medicine back in high school and nods in remembrance. "Okay. They look great. But I'm going to have to leave soon."

You know what that means and make no moves to stop him from getting up. He once again hugs you before kneeling on the ground to meet your eyes. "Next time this happens...please, please tell me. No more secrets. Remember what I said about secrets?" You nod and mess with the edge of your nightgown. "No more secrets.....I'm sorry." He softly smiles at you and wipes any stray hairs from your face. "It's alright, no need to apologize. I understand."

He presses a sweet and long kiss to your lips. Reveling in the soft plush of your lips on his. A lingering taste from your tears fall onto his tongue, but he doesn't care. He pulls back first, caressing your face. "Come on, let me tuck you in." You lean back into the soft blankets and mattress, Kento brings the blankets up to underneath your chin. He once again kisses your forehead and smiles sadly at you. "Goodnight, my love. Have sweet dreams. I will be back as soon as possible and will be here when you wake up." You nod and stare at his face. He seems to have newfound energy about him as he grabs some clothes from the closet, taking them with him into the bathroom to change.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #reader #yandere character #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere nanami x reader #jjk nanami #yandere nanami kento #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #kento nanami #kento

[beautifulbrainrot]

spencer reid x reader

cw angst, spencer’s addiction, drug mention, gn!reader, s2!spence

Something wasn’t right.

Something wasn’t right, with Spencer.

You had been noticing this change since his kidnapping and torture at the hands of Tobias Hankel. Or really his Father. Despite watching the live stream, you didn’t truly know the extent of what happened in that cabin. Only two people knew. One of those people was dead, and the other was… You weren’t quite sure.

Spencer wasn’t acting like Spencer. He no longer rambled facts and statistics during cases, he came in late, he slept on the plane. He snapped at people, Morgan, Emily, You.

He didn’t look right either. The bags under his eyes were darker and more prominent, he was pale and he looked thinner. You were beginning to seriously worry about him.

What really confused you was everyone else’s obliviousness to the changes in Spencer. Sure Hotch and Gideon shared a few looks, and there was no doubt that Morgan and Prentiss had seen it too, but they had done nothing. You didn’t understand.

After watching Spencer snap at the team all day, including you, which hurt you more than you were willing to admit, you decided to confront him in his hotel room that night.

Sucking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, you firmly knocked on Spencer’s hotel room door.

“Spencer. It’s me. Open up, please.” You spoke, your tone firm.

A few clatters came from Spencer’s room, before he swung open the door.

“What.” He said coldly. You were taken slightly aback by his cool tone, but you ignored it and pushed past him into the room quickly.

“Yeah, come on in.” He deadpanned, closing the door firmly behind you.

You walked into the room, stopping as you noticed it’s dissary. This wasn’t right.

“Spencer, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, his tone still cold and condescending.

“You know what I mean Spencer, you’ve been acting.. off since- .. since Tobias.” You stumbled over the last part, almost unable to bring yourself to say his name.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh- Well I'm sorry I haven't been quite as joyful since I got kidnapped and tortured. So sorry about that.” He shot back, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“Spencer- I-“ You started, shaking your head. He had never been like this before with you. “Spencer it’s more than that. Somethings wrong, I can tell.”

“You can tell? Since when did you know me so well?”

“Spencer, I do know you. You’re my friend.” You said, furrowing your brows. This was all wrong. This wasn’t the Spencer you knew.

This wasn’t the Spencer you loved.

He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes.

That’s when you noticed it.

The subtle scratching he was doing of his inner arm as he crossed them over his chest.

Then it all made sense.

The kidnapping, the torture. Tobias, his father. The lateness, the aggravation, the lack of sleep.

And his pupils. Constricted. Narcotics.

Fuck. Spencer was on drugs.

“Where are they.”

Spencer paused, staring at you.

“What?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly, his arms tightening across his chest, as if he was guarding himself.

“Spencer, you’re high.”

It felt like the world paused. Someone knew. You knew.

“What?- I-“

“Spencer. Don’t try and deny. I’m a profiler for fucks sake, did you really think you could hide this? Where are they.”

Spencer heart rate picked up. He couldn’t help his eyes darting over to his bag where the small vials and needles were hidden.

You saw his eyes move, and before he could stop you, you sped over to the bag, picking it up and rifling through it.

“Please- No!” Spenxer begged, but you could barely hear him. Blood was pumping in your ears as you sifted through the bag. Your heart stopped when you saw them. The vials and needles, stashed under all of his clothes in the bottom of his bag.

“Spencer..” Your voice broke, tears pricking in your eyes and in his as you pulled the drugs out of his bag and turned to him.

“Spencer… Why?” Your heart broke as you looked at him. He was seemingly curling in on himself, his arms wrapped around his skinny frame tightly, holding himself. A small sobbed ripped out of his mouth and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Tears dripped down your cheeks as you threw the vials onto the bed and pulled Spencer into your arms, holding him close as sobs racked through his weak body.

“I’m sorry.. I just- I couldn’t-“ He cried softly into you. You held him closer, your own heart breaking with every word. He had been suffering in silence and no one was helping him.

You pulled away slightly to look him in the eye, stocking his hair with your hand.

“I’m going to help you get clean Spencer.”

He bit his lip and looked down.

You sighed.

“I can only help if you want to get clean Spencer. Do you want to get clean.”

He looked up, determination on his face.

“I do. I’m just- … I’m scared.”

“I know, I know you’re scared, but you’re strong Spencer. You can do this. I will help however I can.” You promised.

He smiled softly at you, and pulled you in for a hug again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid fanfiction

[klausysworld]

Hi, your writing about how a yandere reader kidnapped Klaus is quiet interesting and this gave me an idea: how about a scenario where a yandere reader kidnapped a yandere Klaus? Like where reader faked Klaus to believe she was innocent and sweet but in fact she was just obsessive and possessive as he was, so she kidnapped him to protect him from being hurt by his enemies? Thanks a lot.

(Readers gonna be a witch cuz I doubt a human could kidnap him by themselves)

Power Play

He started it.

He was the one who started following me, not the other way around. He wanted to know more about me, know where I live and how involved I was with the ‘save Elena gang’. He wanted to stand outside my house and watch me like he didn’t know I left my curtains open on purpose.

It was all him.

It isn’t my fault that his obsession brought on mine.

He was just so possessive and jealous and damaged and desperate for love, I couldn’t just ignore him.

I wanted him so I took him. Just more gradually than maybe I would like.

I had to entice him first. Once I realised he had chosen me, I needed to find out why.

I didn’t really get in the way of his plans and kept relatively quiet whenever the others were planning anything and to Klaus that mean that I was innocent in the situation and didn’t like to hurt people. Partly true but it was more that I couldn’t be bothered.

But I was happy to play the innocent victim if that’s what he wanted.

All I had to do was have him find me crying over a boy and he was all over me, telling me I was too good for a common fool and that ‘a little witch like me’ should be with someone much more powerful to keep me safe.

The feel of his arms around me was perfect and I knew I would need it more. I could hear his breath hitch as I hugged him back tightly, his hand ran through my hair making us both sigh before inevitably having to pull away.

He kissed my forehead and I kissed his cheek before we both parted, each of us with a smile on our faces for very similar reasons.

That night when he stood outside my house I decided to give him more of a show, leaving the curtains open after my shower and sitting by my window as I rubbed cream onto my bare legs.

It was so easy to wind him up, showing him any amount of my skin had him immediately as close as he was allowed without it being suspicious.

Walking around in my mini skirt and tight cropped top always had him approaching me, his arm fining its way around my waist as he pulled me to him

“You look gorgeous today sweetheart” he would compliment while staring any others who looked my way down.

“Oh, thank you, I liked the colours” i mumbled while smiling up at him making his lips upturn and him to nod

“So do I”

Though I knew his attention was truly more focused on my legs and cleavage, not that I minded.

Occasionally he would request a spell or two from me but I pretended I wasn’t very good at all. Which earned me lessons from him

“A pretty little witch like you should know how to defend herself, how about we start with something simple hm?” He placed a candle in-front of me and although I could easily light a thousand of them alight, I made a struggle out off it and made myself appear frustrated and upset so he would bring comfort and words of encouragement.

Once I had it lit he was over the moon, spinning me in his arms and kissing the corner of my mouth before bringing a beginners spell book over and allowing me to choose one to try next.

I knew if I got too good or confident then he would feel threatened, he didn’t like powerful things, he liked people to be weaker and sweeter than him.

So I was just that. Even took to baking to make appear as though I had some basic human hobbies, I would bring him biscuits and cakes when we had my lessons and each time he tried a new one he threw a fuss over it.

When he started gifting me little flowy dresses I knew he thought me to be an angel. Diamond necklaces and pearl earrings always being presented to me wrapped in pink ribbons. White was his favourite colour on me

“The colour of innocence and purity my love, it’s perfect for your beauty”

“There must be something I can buy you?” I offered with a smile but he shook his head

“Your baked treats are all I need” he murmured

“Surely you desire something else? Anything?” I questioned and he shifted in his seat, clearly thinking something a little more than a normal gift. “How about my blood?” I tilted my head and his eyes widened

“Love-“

“No I insist, you can drink from me, I don’t mind” I gave him my wrist and watched the hesitation on his face. “Please? It’s my thank you to you…for being so generous and caring for me” I whispered and his eyes softened

“Alright…you tell me if you feel dizzy or if it hurts okay?” He checked and I nodded.

The second his teeth were in me I knew he was hooked, the moan that left him said enough as the veins danced beneath his eyes and he swallowed my blood down like an addict.

It drove his obsession through the roof and he found himself needing it more and more. As soon as I was offering he was latched onto my arm just like I had expected.

It was all too easy to have him feel like he saved me. Just had to put myself in a couple risky positions for him to swoop in and suddenly he never wanted to leave my side.

Only downside was it was hard to have any time when he wasn’t watching me to plan my attack on him.

So I had to move slow, unbearably slow. But eventually I had it set up. Turns out the Lockwoods have more than one underground cellars and they’re hidden all around.

I chose one furthest out in the woods and told him I had planned something special for us. Of course he probably expected a date of sorts, most likely didn’t think I would be kidnapping him.

I felt a little bad when I stabbed him in the back with a high concentration of wolfsbane and vervain but at the same time it was for the best. The group were planning to kill him and for once their planned actually sounded promising and I didn’t like that. It was more risky to let them go through with it than for me hide him. Besides it’s only temporary…

Lets say he wasn’t too pleased to wake up in chains, apparently it wasn’t one of his kinks,yet.

But really I think he was more upset that I wasn’t the sweet little flower that he thought I was.

His first question was who enchanted the chains but he knew. He just didn’t want it to be true.

“Sweetheart I don’t understand…if you had all this…power why hide it from me? Why do this now?” He gestured to the cage he trapped in.

“The Salvatores have another plan. But this one was a little too promising and I couldn’t risk them getting you.” I told him with a weak smile, still keeping my distance so he couldn’t get too mad

“So you have me here…so they don’t kill me?” He trailed a little confused and I nodded

“Yes and because…I love you and you aren’t very good at keeping yourself safe” I mumbled and he blinked right back at me. I could feel my face getting a little hotter and I glanced to the exit

“Y/n…I love you too, let me out and we can talk about this a little more…well humanly” he muttered with a small and somewhat nervous chuckle.

I sighed as I looked him over, I knew he was trying his best to keep his anger in check and I was beginning to feel a little bad but I was in the right. And it’s not like he wasn’t going to do the same thing to me, I watched him too difference was that he didn’t know it.

“I will…soon just after everything has cooled down okay? Everything’s gonna be just fine. You don’t have to worry, you can drink from me or blood bags, you have a mattress and pillow, blankets. What else do you need? I got the fairy lights so it’s not dark. Books, I even got you some canvases and artsy stuff. This place is temporary, just relax for a moment and I’m gonna be back really soon okay?” I had gotten closer to him as I spoke and my hand cupped his face gently.

“You’re leaving? Love, you can’t leave me down here!?” He grabbed my wrist firmly but not painfully however he was still incredibly weak so I easily got out of his grip.

“I have to make sure everyone believes you’ve left” I whispered while leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “I can’t have anyone looking for you”

“Y/n, don’t leave me” he murmured, his forehead pressed to mine making me sigh softly

“It’s not for long klaus, I promise”

“If you love me…you wont do this to me” he mumbled and I hummed

“You act as though you don’t have a room ready in your basement ready for me”

He pulled his head back and frowned at me “how on earth do you know that?”

“Do you think I don’t see you outside my window?” I whispered and his eye’s darkened

“You watch me too?”

“Mhm except I actually go inside, I don’t just wait in the garden”

He stared at me for a moment before a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips “you truly are something else aren’t you sweetheart?” He muttered, the backs of his fingers brushed over my cheek. “What is it you want me to do love?”

“Just stay here until it’s safe…maybe we’ll go somewhere else after, somewhere real far away so it’s just us”

“Okay…how about we start looking, after you go secure your plan?” He kissed my neck softly and smiled down at me

“We can take Elena, for your hybrids if you really want” I whispered hoping if he was just lying to trap me back, I could sway his decisions.

“Nonsense, my hybrids don’t like me anyway, I’d rather just have you my love”

I just hoped it was true, not that it mattered, if he didn’t then I’d just have to get better security measures.

#yandere!reader #yandere!klaus #yandere #yandere klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson yandere #the originals #klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaleson imagine #niklaus imagines #rebekah mikaelson #klaus m #the vampire diares imagine #elijah mikaelson #klaus michaelson #klaus mikaelson x y/n #kol mikaelson #tvd klaus #niklaus mikaelson #tvd universe #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #tvdu angst

[oleander-nin]

I’ve been playing dead by daylight lately ; and now I’m wondering how would the the general yandere rise turtles hcs react if reader made a bet with them if there beat them in DbD , the boys will let the reader go and if reader loses the reader stays with the boys forever.

A/N, not important: Sorry for the wait. Also I have no clue of what Dead by Daylight is, so I just kind of made it a general thing of any game you might play. Also I misread your ask and didn't add the losing rule. My bad, sorry. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Lying, breaking a deal/promise, isolation mention, kidnapped reader, dark themes, yandere themes, mentions of violence

Words: 2057

Summary: Headcanons of if you made a bet to be set free.

Tag list: @f1oricide @itsyagurlchip @lordfreg @acutiewithagun @rottmnttmnt2012 @lixnininotnay @lexiechr

Michelangelo:

He doesn’t like the idea of it. He’ll ignore your requests at first, especially if you’re not asking him straight up. If you keep pushing it, he’ll finally sit down with you and let you talk. He doesn’t like it at all, mostly because the entire point is to gain your freedom. Mikey was certain he’d made it clear you’d never leave him.

He might concede after a while. After all, you’re both just playing a game, and you must know he’s not actually letting you go, right? You’re happy with him, this has to just be some emotional thing you’re going through, and you want to win a game. He doesn’t mind indulging you in that, especially since there’s no harm in it. It’s just a game.

He doesn’t take the game very seriously when you first start playing. He’s just happy to play the game with you and try to bond. He doesn’t even make his own condition if he wins because it’s not like he’s letting you go anyways. It’s no more of a bet than calling someone a rotten egg after a race. 

If you’re losing/lost:

He ignores the devastation on your face, smiling widely at you as he shifts closer to you. He was ecstatic you were spending time with him, and you seemed so happy and serious while playing the game. It’s clear you enjoyed it, and you weren’t even fighting him while playing!

He tries to make a night out of it, quickly ordering pizza and bringing in drinks and candy as he starts to set up different games. He’ll make you happy, he swears. Just stop pouting and come play.

Mikey relies on your love, so he’ll keep playing with you until you seem to be opening up again. He’ll pull you close and kiss you after every game, trying to wear you down. If you’re trying to avoid him, or want to quit after a while, Mikey will ignore your protests and hold you close. He’s a bit upset seeing you genuinely sad that you lost. He makes a note to cook your favorite tomorrow, just to show you being with him wasn’t all that bad. I mean, if you really wanted to leave, you would have tried to run. Clearly he’s doing something right.

If you’re winning/won:

He just leans over and gives you a kiss for doing such a good job before asking if you wanted to play again. He likes seeing you so excited over winning, ignoring the fact you were happy because you thought you’d get to leave.

Gets upset when you demand he let you go, his frustration growing as you get more insistent that you deserve to leave. Mikey finally puts his foot down, harshly telling you you’re never leaving him. He’s not losing you, ever.

If you keep trying to fight him on it, he’ll just pull out your old chains and start treating you like when you first got there. No more privileges, no more opinions, no more leaving his side. You’re stuck in his room until you decide to drop your silly thought of getting away.

You really needed to learn you weren’t ever leaving him, and he’ll teach you by any means necessary.

Donatello:

When you first bring it up, he’d laugh. Why would you be serious about such a thing? Not only are you saying you want to leave him, but you also think you’d beat him at a video game. It’s absurd.

When he realizes you’re serious, he’ll consider it for a moment before agreeing. He’s a bit peeved you really want to try and ‘win’ your freedom, but he’s willing to stay calm and see how this goes. Especially since he could get something from you if you lose. He makes you swear that if you lose, you’ll start showing him more affection as a payoff. 

When you both first start playing, he’s not only determined to beat you, he wants to crush you. He’s heavily insulted by your want to play the game for something you should know you’ll never get. The only reason he agrees in the first place is because he knows this is the first time you’ve willingly played a game with him. It’s not like you actually tried to escape, only asked for it. He’d take that over you making a break for it any day.

If you’re losing/lost:

He’ll gloat the entire time. He’s mad at you, and is incredibly competitive. Those don’t exactly mix well.

If at any point you seem to be starting to gain the upper hand, he’ll subtly cheat to keep you down. He wants to end the match as soon as he can so you have less time to possibly win. 

Is so smug when he beats you, he feels the entire ordeal worth it. He doesn’t even feel like punishing you for trying to gain your freedom in the first place. He liked being able to play with you, even at the stakes.

Will absolutely expect you to uphold your end of the deal. If he tries to hug you or kiss you after and you try to push him away, he’ll remind you of the deal. He loves seeing the defeat on your face as you give into him.

If you’re winning/won:

Slowly gets more frustrated as the game goes on. He’s not worried about you leaving, he’s not letting that happen even if he ‘promised’, but he’s still salty you’re beating him.

He’ll cheat, whether by messing with your controller/person, or hacking the game and completely nerfing you. He hates losing.

If you are able to win despite his cheating, he’ll probably let his anger boil over. Not only did you ask to be granted freedom, but by the terms, you technically earned it. He’s furious and might start yelling at you, or accusing you of cheating as well. When you try to get him to keep the terms of the deal, he’ll just snap at you to shut up and will get more furious at every mention of it.

You’ll probably end up in isolation for a few days to weeks afterwards. Enjoy your freedom.

Raphael:

Raph gets incredibly frustrated the first time you ask. Why would you want to leave? You’re safe with him, and he loves you. You asking to leave like that is a bit of a punch to the gut.

He gets more clingy with you for a while, always slinging you over his shoulder when he needs to go to a different room, and holding you tighter at night. He’s afraid you’ll try and make a break for it at some point now, so he makes sure to not let you out of his sight. 

Raph doesn’t want to play the game with you at all. He doesn’t like the bet placed on it, and it just makes him angry every time you bring it up. He does eventually break down and agree to do it, but it’s mostly to get you to stop asking. At no point does he plan to let you go, no matter what he promised you.

If you’re losing/lost:

He feels a bit bad because you seem so upset, but knowing why you were so upset boils his blood. He’ll lightly tease you to get you to cheer up and let it go, hoping you’d both be able to just forget this and move past it. It was just a little game that he wasn’t taking seriously, so neither should you.

He’ll hold you close afterwards, feeling mostly relieved. You lost on your own terms, so he knew you wouldn’t try to argue with him. If you try to insist on another match, or to try a different game, he’ll just shut you down.

Tries his best to make you happy and tells you how much better it is with him. If you were gone and without his protection, you could be hurt. He tries to remind you of all the villains he’s fought and makes up recent cases and such to try and show you that being with him is better.

If you’re winning/won:

A bit bitter he lost, but just kisses your head and compliments your skills of the game. As you wait for him to let go of you, or bring you to the sewer entrance, and he does no such thing, you start to get upset.

Raph pays no mind to your whining, cursing, or demands, just hugging you close as he silently waits for you to calm down. He tries to be gentle, but gosh you were just being so awful and it’s not really his fault he squeezed you just a bit too hard.

Raph will make sure to keep a tighter grip on you for the next few months. He doesn't trust you to not try and make a break for it now. He stays within arms length of you at all times, and if he ever has to leave, he has you chained to the wall. He’s sorry about it, he swears, but you really are better off with him. One day you’ll see that, he’s sure of it.

Leonardo:

Silently furious at the request, but immediately agrees. With one caveat, of course. If you lose, you have to start acting like you love him. Be affectionate, call him pet names, stop flinching, the whole nine yards.

He’s not worried about you winning, mostly because he’d never actually set you free. Leaving him isn’t an option, not not, not ever. You’re his true love, his soulmate, and no silly bet you’ve made will change that. As far as Leo’s concerned, he’s gaining more than he’s losing from this deal. You’ll still have to hold up your end after all.

Leo has you sit in his lap while you play, mostly because he’s afraid you’d try to make a break for it after you realize he’s not letting you go. After you proposed the initial deal, he lost most trust in you. He’s not going to take any chances.

If you’re losing/lost:

Teases you relentlessly. You suggested playing for your freedom, you took the chance and even chose the game, and you couldn’t even win. Leo thought it was hilarious.

If you whine or backtalk at all, he brings up the terms of the bet while he covers your face in kisses. He’s overjoyed you lost and now have to follow your part of the deal. He’s immediately showering you in affection because he knows you can’t push him away for it.

He’s incredibly smug that he won too, almost forgetting about how angry he was about the deal in the first place. You lost, and now you have to commit to being his forever. By your own doing, you’re stuck pretending to love him until you actually do. He can’t see anything wrong with the arrangement. He’s completely ecstatic.

If you’re winning/won:

A bit peeved at first, mostly because he’s annoyed he lost. His arms grow tighter around you as he stays silent for a few moments. He can hear you clearly telling him to let go and honor his half of the bargain, but why should he? It was a stupid game, and you don’t get to leave.

As you get more erratic, he finally figures out what he wants to do. With gritted teeth, he slowly lets you go so you could leave. He tries to not get angry at the joyous look on your face as you realize he’s upholding his end.

He watches you leave the room, his eyes trained on your back as you run towards the entrance. He’s not too worried, his mind thinking through every small possibility in case his plan goes wrong. He reaches over to the side of his bed and grabs one of his katana’s, the room quickly encased in a bright glow.

Within seconds, you’re back in his lap as Leo’s face nuzzles into your neck. Leo pays no mind to your surprised and tensed form, his arms tight around you. Every angry cry and scream goes ignored while Leo holds you close.

He can’t help but smile as he reminds you that he never agreed to not hunt you back down.

#rottmnt #tmnt #rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie #yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #rise leo #yandere rottmnt x reader #yandere leo #yandere rottmnt headcanons #yandere donnie #yandere mikey #yandere #yandere donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #yandere raph #yandere leonardo #yandere michelangelo #yandere raphael #yandere donatello #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #x reader #yandere au #yandere x reader

[buckrecs]

Hello! You are doing the lords work here on this blog🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 do you have any soulmate au recs? I know some people don’t like them so no problem if not and sorry if you’ve been asked before!

Soulmate AU

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

the knowing by @noctumbra

ten days later, james barnes got a call from the police.

for your love by @noctumbra

they were very young; a little shy from being fourteen at that time, but both of them knew they were it. soulmates.

The Owl and the Wolf by @waiting4inspiration

In a world where a person can their soulmate’s spirit animal speaking like a human, Bucky hears your owl’s voice one day.

Snowflakes by @all1e23

Steve drags Bucky to a Christmas festival to take his mind off the fact that he has yet to meet his soulmate.

Colors in the Dark | 2 by @buckychristwrites

The world is without color, and that’s never bothered the Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA didn’t have time for love and soulmates. At almost a century old, what are the odds that his soulmate was even still living?

Say That Again by @justsomebucky

Everyone hears a key word or phrase in their head from their soulmate, something only heard in person when the moment is right.

Teddy Bear by @softlyspector

in which when one soulmate loses something, their other half finds it.

Winter Sun by @softlyspector

When you and Bucky are kidnapped, you find out just how far you would go to keep each other safe.

Assassination to Soulmates by @bxcketbarnes

See the World the Way You Do by @vanderlustwords

You start to see colour when you meet your soulmate. Bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing—you get one and that's it. His world used to be colourful once and then he lost that. He's resigned to see black and white for the rest of his life...until flashes of colours would appear from the corner of his eye. And it seemed to happen more and more as Bucky spends time with you.

Stay Still | Please, don’t by @buckysknifecollection

What if your soulmate was the one person you had hurt the most?

Enchanted by @natasharomanovf

The reader is in a loveless relationship when she meets her true soulmate, Bucky.

what’s in a name? by @ciarawritesmarvel

When you love someone, their name appears on your shoulder. If it’s in blue, it’s unrequited. If it’s in red, it’s requited. The name turns black when your love dies. 

SERIES

Who I Was Looking For by @soopranatural

Even after you started wearing cuffs, the words are engraved in your mind as well as your wrist. You know you’re not destined for love as soon as you learn how to read. How could you? When the words “Sorry, you’re not who I was looking for” are written in black ink on your skin.

The Only Exception by @whitestarbucky

Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. A lesson that taunted Bucky Barnes his whole life. Perhaps it was why he refused to believe in it. He couldn’t afford to. Then you came into his life to challenge his fears to their deepest degrees, not once, but twice. Whether he liked it or not.

A Moment Of Your Time by @stevesbestgirl

A soulmate AU where the headstrong reader realizes that she’s meant to love the brutal mob boss of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes. She doesn’t want to be a part of organized crime and she doesn’t want to rely on anyone, but how do you ignore your soulmate? 

Scars by @tokoyamisstuff

whatever you write on your skin, it appears on your Soulmate’s.

Flowers Bloom by @revengingbarnes

Whenever someone is injured, flowers bloom on their soulmate at the area of the wound. She is born with flowers around her entire left shoulder.

Heartbeat by @after-avenging-hours

Where your heartbeat matches the beat of your soulmate’s; they speed up together, slow down together, skip at the same time, but that means they also stop together...  

The Color of Blood by @theidiotwhowritesthings

In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

My night demons by @themorningsunshine

In which one can see their soulmate's dreams and communicate with them through those dreams.

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#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes soulmate au #bucky barnes modern au #winter soldier!bucky #winter soldier!bucky x reader