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blueberrypancakesworld · 6 months

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Lawrence/Mark x fem!reader - Jealousy

Warning : jealousy, blood, saw horror, kiss, use of Y/n, fluff, comfort

Mark Hoffman x fem!reader, Lawrence Gordon x fem!reader

Summary : Two men, two successors to Jigsaw and yet, besides the latest game, there is something in both of them that they want...you.

masterlist

Costas mandylor - masterlist

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Since John had chosen his successors, the last thing he hoped for from them was an intimate relationship. Lawrence was his biggest project and at the same time his biggest secret. Amanda for a short time like a daughter but for her he was the father.

Mark had gotten by the serial killer again a sense and Y/n the newest member of the almost cult was Johns second hand which concerned the creation of traps. Behind the young reporter's friendly demeanor, however, was a goddess who, like John, ruled over the living and the dead.

A woman who since she had emerged, especially the doctor and the policeman had not been able to get out of his head. Lawrence for the first time again felt his heart beating for someone after his wife and Adam.

How the blond came more and more often to the factory instead of being at work to take care of the medical things and to keep an eye on how it would cause physical pain.

His friendliness and just slightly insane mixed and he enjoyed the time together with her. To his surprise, she had worked as a nurse for a few years and both had an interest in the medical field.

Mark, on the other hand, scored with his sense of justice and his direct manner. He made it clear to everyone that he wanted something from her. The way he rolled up his sleeves to work on the machines when they tightened something together.

The way he made remarks and flirted, much to the chagrin of John and Amanda, neither of whom wanted to hear about it as long as the three of them didn't forget their goal in the work. The umstruckturieren, punish and judge the people.

The sun was already low in the sky when Y/n returned from her lunch break to her office for the last few hours. Closing the door to her office and enjoying the coffee she had bought just a few minutes before. Settling into her chair, she finally saw the bouquet of red roses lying on her desk.

Is it a birthday? she asked herself and looked at the calendar on her wall where the birthdays of her colleagues were listed. But there was no little cake to be seen that month.

Taking the bouquet in her hand she smelled the sweet roses, the redness of the blossoms matched her lipstick. She saw the small card in the bouquet and took it in her hands while she fetched a glass of water and put the bouquet in it.

,,For the most loving co-worker as a token of my love," she murmured the words that someone had written in cursive with a fountain pen. A message from a mysterious admirer had bought her the roses and seemed to be looking forward to them.

She looked at the roses with a smile and went back to her work. But during the remaining hours, her eyes kept going to the roses. The sweet blossoms, the scent that surrounded her, was intoxicating. Intoxicating until she walked out of her office and picked up a single one.

You could make any murder factory more beautiful, which is why she was even happier. ,,Hello, I'm here!" she called into the factory and got a cheerful hello back from Amanda who was working on the bear trap and John already seemed to be making new plans.

She put the rose in a coffee cup and filled it with water and put it on the small table by Amanda's bed. ,,Thank you" the black haired girl said and winked at the older one before Y/n disappeared into the corridors of the factory with a nod.

She looked into a few of the rooms and saw the various torture devices, some still in the middle of finishing work or in the testing phase. But that was not her goal. ,,I hope the stomach doesn't burst open again" she mumbled and could still remember the last time they wanted to place a bomb in one of the victims.

This, however, shortly after a false start led to complications and both died. A mistake that went on the cap of Lawrence and Y/n who had not switched everything on correctly.

Knocking on the door frame of the doctor's room she went in and saw the blond working on a person. He turned to her and seemed to be expecting someone else, but when his bright eyes went to her he smiled.

,,Hello Y/n, good to see you," he said cheerfully, pointing to the instruments he had laid out. She saw how he had already sewn up several wounds and was about to use hoes to probably hang the victim later. ,,A new device?" she asked and put on gloves before she started to hand him the things one by one.

He always gave her a thank you back and they both soon fell into a new conversation topic. She would be lying if she didn't like his calm and friendly manner. The little smile that was on his lips every time he pulled the needle with the thread through the man's skin.

He is always perfectly calm she thought and couldn't help but smile herself. The older one had noticed this and smirked as well, ,,What's so funny?" he wanted to know although they both seemed to know how absurd this all was. Two adults picking at one person.

Until they both burst into giggles and put away their medical tools to calm down. ,,Let's just hope that no-" she was about to continue when Lawrence put down the cutlery and stepped up with his prosthesis.

A mistake, as it turned out, when he drew in the air sharply and the bloody cutlery and tray fell off as he held onto the wall and almost toppled over. ,,Lawrence!" she cried, frightened, and hurried over to him, pushing the victim aside and supporting the blond doctor before taking him to a chair.

With a pained sigh, he tried to find a reasonably comfortable position before she pulled up his pants and looked at the prosthesis. ,,A screw came loose and cut your leg a little...I'll fix it...wait a minute" she said and he couldn't help but smile at her professionalism and caring.

More than once he had let his thoughts wander to her. He knew that his heart was beating for her but he didn't want to press her. Not like Mark.

He approached her and took off his prosthesis - he hadn't used his cane lately. ,,I shouldn't have been so independent of my cane," he said aloud and saw her give him a look of understanding before she came to him with the things.

,,It may have been a while now...but Gordon even I had to get used to my prosthesis," she said cheerfully and he looked at the three fingers of her right hand. Instead of flesh and blood, there was metal and leather and several joints connecting the three fingers.

Mostly, however, she wore a glove to hide the injury, not to mention the relatively large piece of her left ear that was missing after a bullet from a pistol nearly blew it off.

She didn't see the slight redness on his cheeks as she tended to his wounds and the blood. He had winced as she dabbed the disinfectant on the wound. His fingers briefly tightened on her shoulder and she gave him a moment to give himself time.

The position they were in she was kneeling in front of him practically between his legs and the pain stopped paired with her warm soft hands was something that made him draw in his breath sharply.

,,That should do it," she said in conclusion, tightening the bandage before sliding the prosthesis back onto his leg. Suddenly Lawrence's hand touched her cheek and she smelled that sweet smell again.

,,You gave me the roses," she said, and she felt as if someone had removed the board from her head. His smile widened and she felt the gesture of Lawrence pulling her closer. His fingers slid lightly over her body and he touched her gently.

She felt him pull her up, almost onto his lap, and she closed her eyes, hoping for the kiss, when suddenly a loud clearing of the throat was heard. ,,Doctor shouldn't you take care of your patients and let the living ones go?" Mark asked bitingly and gave the blonde a warning look before winking at the younger one and walking back into the hallway.

,,I need your help honey!" he called and she heard Lawrence shake his head in annoyance. ,,Thank you Lawrence" she said hastily and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and handed him his walking stick before walking behind Mark.

He seemed to have just returned from work, she smelled the smell of his gun, his aftershave and that smug feeling that surrounded him. ,,You can be nicer to him, you know," she reminded him, not liking that they didn't like each other. She knew that if they were going to keep doing this, they had to get along.

As soon as the next game was on, they all had to work together. ,,Don't be so sugar he'll get over it as soon as he can walk again" the brown haired man waved her off and she rolled her eyes as she walked with him to one of the machines.

She knew he had a more than deft hand for the traps. ,,Honey, can you get me the hooks from the main hall?" he asked and was already working on the metal. In answer to his question, she watched him for a moment before she disappeared.

A sigh inevitably escaped her and Amands patted her encouragingly on the shoulder. ,,Don't let it go to your head," she said, and John seemed to rebound from the whole affair.

His own relationship and love had been shattered by it all and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with it. ,,See that you get our new one and the trap ready...I don't want any delays Y/n" he said and she nodded showing him a look in which he let her know that she had finished it. Before the white haired one went back to his work himself. With the target in her hand she returned to the room and paused.

That's extra she thought and saw how the policeman had opened his shirt slightly, rolled up his sleeves and smiled broadly at her. ,,I knew it, good girl" he praised her and she threw him the heels which he found surprisingly good and started to work.

She leaned against the wall giving him new metal from time to time, but most of all she knew how much he enjoyed her looking at him.

How her eyes ran over his body and he was just wallowing in her gaze. After a few more moments of her looking at the trap and Hoffman in particular, he set the welder aside and tapped on the trap. ,,Sit down," he said, tapping the seat of the trap, which she knew could kill someone as soon as it was finished.

Sitting down on the cold metal, she was about to grab the blades when she felt his hand move up her thigh. Leaning against the metal and preventing her from escaping while she did not take her eyes off him.

At least he didn't allow that as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. ,,You know, I could give you more than the doctor" he whispered to her and she saw how he came closer to her and the kiss seemed inevitable.

Suddenly a cane crashed against the metal of the tubes and he rose from her. ,,You're disturbing, you know that?" came the sarcastic question and Lawrence smirked smugly as Mark moved away from Y/n and grabbed the welder before the three went back into the main room.

But before that she had hastily risen and given Mark a kiss on the cheek as she did with Lawrence, standing in the middle while the two men stared at each other dismissively. ,,John, we're done," she said to the oldest, who nodded contentedly and withdrew.

She seemed to sense what was about to happen, which is why she was grateful that Amanda took her by the hand and the two women retreated together.

Between all that, they both seemed to have found each other the most. The kiss she got at the end of the day from Amanda herself. But the arguing noise could still be heard in the hallways of the factory.

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@lola-max-sugar , @megustadilf , @slut4hoffman , @agunislover

#saw movies #saw franchise #saw mark hoffman #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon x reader #saw lawrenve gordon

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phanfictioncatalogue · 7 months

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(TW) Heavy Angst With A Happy Ending Masterlist

before/after (ao3) - katesofheaven

Summary: Dan and Phil have a dying daughter and they deal with it in different ways, both before and after she goes.

Butterfly (ao3) - A_Million_Regrets

Summary: Phil Lester, a lonely writer, finds a dying boy with beautiful black wings on a cold, rainy night in a dingy alleyway. He recognizes the boy as one of the winged men hated by human society. They are considered to be wild, ferocious beasts, but Phil's sympathy forces him to help the boy.

What happens when the boy, considered to be a wild beast, gets too attached and follows him home with an innocent, dimpled smile?

Can We Just Pretend (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: After being seen cuddling with a childhood friend, Phil thinks Dan is cheating.

Change Will Come (ao3) - rainbowchristy

Summary: Dan’s a depressed university student. Phil’s just a cute coffee shop barista who writes notes on Dan’s hot chocolates.

Choking on My Thoughts of You (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: The first time Phil coughed up a petal, he thought he was seeing things. He blinked, staring at its perfect edges, almost as if to will it out of existence. There was no way something so small and perfect could have come from his lungs. That couldn’t be possible. Yet there it sat, perfect and white as can be, cupped in his hands.

Phil loved Dan so much it was killing him.

dollhouse (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: dan's parents are fighting, again.

Expectations (ao3) - my_happy_little_bean

Summary: They expect you do well. They expect you to succeed. That's everyone's expectations.

You, however, have different expectations from different people.

And you're tired of them.

helplessly helpless: I’m alive, can you hear me? (ao3) - MANIAvinyl

Summary: Dan’s been in a relatively good place. He’s kept his head screwed on tight recently. So because the worst of the storm has passed he feels like it’s on him to help the world to de-stigmatize talking about mental health. When he mentions this to Phil, though, it’s finally revealed how much the last few years have impacted his best friend, too.

Really, I just wanted to explore Phil’s side of the story regarding Daniel and Depression. Because mental health doesn’t just affect the individual; it also affects those close to them, in ways we can’t imagine until we’re the ones on the other side.

hippo milk is actually pink (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: In Which Dan Is Drunk, Phil Is Also Drunk, They Hook Up, And Things Just Kind Of Go From There

Maybe I miss you (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil leaves Dan for several months to temporarily live in New York City and work on a movie set.

The distance between them drove them both insane, but neither of them could voice the reason why.

When Dan comes to visit Phil in New York his feelings are threatened to spill after an encounter with one of Phil's new friends, but he keeps lying- to both Phil and himself.

Hopefully he can eventually tell the truth, because Phil gets another long-term job opportunity in California and Dan can't take any more distance.

Maybe It'll Last This Time (But I'm Gonna' Love You) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: “Because, if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without being loved back . . . then that love had to be real. It hurt too much to be anything else.” -- Kill Me Softly, Sarah Cross

You love him, but it's a little complicated.

Missing (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: "So we have a new update on the serial killer running loose around London-" Dan turns the tv off, he didn't want to hear anymore. He just wanted Phil back home, safe and sound.

Seized (ao3) - rainbowchristy

Summary: It started out as a fun day at the park but it ended in terror. Phil takes his little Dan to the park and while Phil is not looking, Dan suddenly gets kidnapped. What will happen to Dan? Will Phil ever see his boyfriend again? Did Phil have something to do with it?

To Love You (ao3) - A_Million_Regrets

Summary: Dan is a rent boy, a male prostitute, a cheap whore, another slut for hire . . . He's heard many more derogatory terms used against him in pointless arguments, regardless of whether it be with friends, family or a random stranger in a dingy pub. He's ashamed of who he's become, but he never says it out loud. He hides things, things like his shame, his pain, and the fact that he's helplessly in love with his bestfriend, Phil Lester.

Unrequited (ao3) - thiccennugget

Summary: Phil doesn't believe in soulmates. Dan's been searching for his for years.

Wonders Never Cease (ao3) - Yiffandquiff (paradisobound)

Summary: Dan and Phil were one of the 'it' couples at their high school until one day, Phil blindsides Dan with a break up. Hurting and seeking comfort, Dan befriends Tyler who helps him get through the first tough few months of the break up, mending his shattered heart. But Dan doesn't want to move on. He wants to be with Phil and maybe, just maybe, in the end, he'll still get to be.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phan #phanfic #masterlists #heavyangst #angst #angst masterlist #angstwithahappyending masterlist #tw

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fizzigigsimmer · 1 year

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In October I saw a prompt for a Hannibal style Serial Killer!AU and I had so many thoughts about it. They’ve been sitting in my drafts for ages. Maybe I’ll do something longer with this eventually, but for now I’m just going to share my imaginings as they come. I think that if Billy were a serial killer who fell in love with an FBI agent it would go something like this…

Billy hears Steve’s footsteps – knows their tread apart from the heavy scuffling steps of the jail guard on shift – and smiles. He doesn’t move from his position sat on the narrow bed, back against the wall gazing up at the flicking light on the ceiling of his cell. Not even when those steps pause outside his door and he senses Steve there, smells the shampoo he used in his hair this morning. It’s the one Billy bought for him, that smells like sun and sand, expensive and beachy, in a way that makes Billy think of the house he built for them. A house they might never see. Only time will tell.

“Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?” Billy says as he’s lead in handcuffs into the interview room a few minutes later.

“Yeah, don’t cream your pants. I mean, you went through so much effort arranging this little date Hargrove, it would be a shame to end it prematurely.”

Billy’s smile deepens, appreciative.

“I’ve missed you baby.” Truth and nothing but the whole truth.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Steve retorts. Billy is not crazy.

You wouldn’t think it to look at him, unkempt, disordered, and bruised, sallow under low fluorescent light. Caged animal that he is. When they study him it’s not to see how his mind works – though the essays and the novels that will fund their children’s college tuitions may be so tritely titled. When suited men open the doors to his cage and sit across from Billy Hargrove without daring to meet his eyes, it’s not to understand him or his assumed insanity. It’s comfort they want. The false sense of superiority that comes with his imprisonment is shouted in the gleams of their polished nails, tap tap tapping impatiently away on the side of the coffee Billy is no longer free to buy. The sheep sip it just to have something to do with their hands. Harrington sips it like a taunt.

‘We got you’ is what these faceless, nameless, men and women in their dime a dozen suits want to say. Want to see it so that for another night they can believe it, and sleep peacefully. ‘We got you. So you can never get us.’ Billy doesn’t cooperate with their questions but he smiles. Whatever brings them comfort. Because he’s just polite like that. Billy has never been wantonly cruel, though he might one day achieve that if Harrington has anything to say about it. His cruelty has always been like his anger, well earned, inevitable and brutal. Deep water that rises to become a flood. Harrington is something else. He’s a knife. Cold, tempered, reflective. Beautiful to look at and dangerous to touch the wrong way. It’s no great mystery why Billy wants to get him bloody and lick him clean. Put him back in the drawer, unassuming and politely functional, show him off at dinner parties. ‘This one cuts through anything’.

Billy’s been a very good boy. He’s been keeping his lips sealed, not giving them what they want in order to get the thing that he wants. The entire reason he’s here in this cell in the first place. It has nothing to do with their laughable detective skills or even the dogged determination of Special Agent Jim Hopper. It’s all about Steve Harrington, the survivor who grew up to hunt monsters.

He and Harrington have been playing their game for years, cut for cut, tit for tat, without near enough tits, but Billy would be lying if he said the hold out wasn’t working for him. Steve’s got him strung, going to bed burning and waking up hungry, until he doesn’t know whether he wants to fuck him or tear him apart. But that’s love for you. Billy’s never been able to back down from a challenge and neither will Harrington. He wants to see what Harrington will do, now that it’s game over. Now that Billy Hargrove is caught and the thrill of the hunt is gone along with the promise of the kill.

Big Jim thinks he saved a traumatized teen, fashioned him into a weapon that always strikes true at the monsters in the dark, but he’s wrong. Doesn’t know enough about the dark to know what he carried out of it but Billy does.

He’s been hunting in the tri-state area of Indiana since he was a teen himself, and in the ensuing decades a few interlopers have come, but they have all been dealt with without fanfare. There has been nothing like a true challenger, a true threat, a real opportunity for connection, until about five years ago.

He met Agent Steve Harrington at a Halloween party of all things.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #serial killer au #murder boyfriends

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lillykayewrites · 5 months

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CHANGE ME CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

"How much fucking worse...?" I looked at William with saucer like eyes.

Chuckling, William looked down to his dried, cracking hands, then looked back up at me through his eyebrows. His sharp eyes darkened and gave me the iconic 'Kubrick Stare'.

"Well, how do I put this without sounding utterly insane?" He added theatrically.

"Believe me, with the shit I'm seeing right now, you can't do much more." I bluntly stated.

"Alright then...half of my soul...is out, free, you could say. That part of me though, is what wanted to do the...dark things I did. So since that is the part of me that committed the crimes with no remorse, even though all of me did it, I suppose I was given another chance. Set free. Now part of me is running rampant in the streets, most likely wearing that dammed rabbit suit."

"Yeah... I should have specified..."

"I warned you..." William said with a knowing smirk.

"But didn't you have the suit?!"

"It's a different suit, believe me, it gets confusing..."

"How does this even happen?!" I exclaimed, rubbing my temples intensely with my fingers.

"How am I suppose to know?" William answered defensively.

"Because it happed to you!"

"Touché..." a caught off guard looking William shrugged.

Looking up at the ceiling as my head draped against the wall, I let out a deep and defeated sigh, looking back to William who's intelligent eyes seemed to be studying me.

"Well... we can't sit here all day." I said quickly as I pushed myself off of my wall.

Grabbing my keys, I turned to William with hesitancy.

Hey...okay... I still need to buy groceries, but I'm going to a Walmart and I'm going to see what they have in men's clothes too for you, Because you look like a disaster. No offense... plus, I'm not just going to leave you in rags." Spinning my keys on my pointer finger, I began to walk out of my room leaving the older man still sitting on my bed.

"Also! I'll pick you up some shower stuff too! Because, again... no offense..." I left, the comment hanging in the air as I made a face towards the notable pungency of William.

Rolling his eyes, he sneered as he got up from my bed,

"How about you try rotting in a suit for thirty five years yeah!" He yelled to me as I stood in the opening of the door

"Uh, yeah......No!" I smiled before closing it quickly behind me.

Staring at where she once stood, I sighed into the now Y/N-less apartment.

"She just left me in her apartment...alone...?" Chucking and shaking my head, I began to explore the place more in depth.

"I'm a serial killer......She knows that too! And is letting me stay in her home!" Laughing incredulously.

Walking into what you would consider the living room, I scanned the small space which contained a love seat that was the size of a two person couch, a large speaker, and a small coffee table sitting in the middle of the living room. Sitting down in the love seat, I sighed running my hand over the the cream color fabric which fit the scheme of the rest of the house.

In a way that I couldn't explain, the room seemed lonely. Being so small, just enough for one person.

But even with the feeling of loneliness, the thought of being alone brought me a familiar comfort. A feeling I used to hate but now, I have just excepted as being apart of my existence.

Tossing my head back, I let out a sigh and closed my eyes.

They fell closed as if they weighed a thousand pounds.

I hadn't even realized, but exhaustion ruled my body. If I was being honest, I hadn't truly 'slept' in over thirty years.... And if it were possible to say so... I could definitely feel it.

As my mind sluggishly swam away from consciousness, I crossed my arms and let out another sigh,

"I'll be awake by the time she gets back..."

Driving up to the apartment, I couldn't help but be nervous to go back inside. I mean, could you blame me?!

What if he decided to leave, and now, he knows where I live and how to get in....

What if he stole my stuff?....

What if he is waiting for me to get in and then kill me? Then steal my stuff....

"Nope, we don't need to think like that....not right now." I told myself sternly and I grabbed my grocery bags from the car.

Walking up to my apartment, I awkwardly pulled out my keys from my purse as the grocery bags hung from my arms.

Slowly and cautiously opening the door. I was, readying myself for whatever was or wasn't inside, and past that door... so without further hesitation, I walked in....

But I was greeted with snoring....

Not just any kind of snoring....Dad snoring.

The loudest.

Most obnoxious kind of snoring out there.

"Ha, and I thought he was at the ready to kill me..." I chuckled shaking my head.

As quietly as possible, I walked in and put down the groceries on the counter, looking over to William every once and awhile to make sure he was still asleep.

Taking a glance once more, I walked back to my room and to my closet to grab him a blanket.

Coming back out, I expected him to wake, but as I approached him, he seemed to be snoring even louder.

I slowly draped the soft blanket over his shoulders and chest, which he unconsciously responded to as he seemed to shift into the warmth of it.

He seemed so tired, I actually felt slightly bad for him.

Standing back up with a soft smile, I quietly backed away from William hoping not to undo everything I just did.

"Sweet dreams Afton..." I softly whispered.

I opened my eyes.

And for the first time is several decades....rested.

And warm...

Looking down, a thick dark green, velvety blanket was draped over me which in fact, was quite pleasant against my arms. Looking up and around the room

Y/N was no where sight. Getting up, I removed the blanket and I was met with the cool air outside of it.

Getting up from the seat, I walked to the counter which had bottles of male shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Even a bottle of lotion. Along with that though was a note.

To William,

I hope that these will work for you. I'm in my room if you want to use shower so just nock. Also if you are hungry, help yourself to whatever I have. Or I can cook something up for us.

I caught myself smiling lightly at the note.

"Kindness like this is hard to get now a days..." I mumbled as I made my way down the hall.

Nocking gently on the young woman's door, I heard her voice from the other side.

"You can come in." Y/N said calmly.

Upon opening the door, I slowly sauntered in. Y/N didn't meet my gaze, but I know she felt it on her as she turned the page of a book that encapsulated her attention completely.

Leaning up against the wall and crossing my arms, I looked at her curiously studying her and taking in her overall appearance.

Her hair was long, it was down and wet from her shower, and her face looked clean and smooth. She had on white crew socks which she had rolled down to almost her ankles. She wore a night shirt that looked like one of my old dress shirts yet softer. Lastly, she had on black spandex shorts that were only visible to me, because her shirt lifted up the smallest bit from the position she was laying in.

To be honest, I was just relieved to know that she even had shorts on...

"You're going to burn holes in my head if you keep staring at me like that you know. If you want to shower, it's all yours. I'm already done." Y/N said, not looking up once at me and the small smirk that adorned my lips.

"You're a strange girl...." I said, as nonchalantly as possible. Which was difficult because I could barely hide the smirk growing on my face as I pushed myself off the wall and approached her bed with slow steps. Finally looking up to me, her big, doe-ish eyes watching my every movement as I approached.

"Now why is that?" She asked me coyly, putting down her book that had her full attention just a second ago.

"Ha! Well... you let me into your house yeah?... You're letting me use your shower, you bought me my own toiletries..." getting closer to her, I continued, "You know who I am... what I am capable of. I nearly killed you last week! Yet here I am...kindly being hosted by the same person." Being finally close enough, I swiftly grabbed Y/N and she let out a gasp as I gripped her neck in my hand. With my palm against her wind pipe, one swift motion would crush it...

"Now Y/N... you'd either have to be a fool or just naive... or something else entirely... but the question still remains, aren't you scared of me? Scared that I will kill you? Because I could right now, yeah?...And no one would know..." I breathed lowly staring deep into her silver eyes with my own.

"Actually William...." Y/N sighed tiredly, "So could I..." she mused as she raised a knife up to my neck so quickly I couldn't even react. The blade's point perched on top of my Adam's apple.

"If you try to nock it away I'll shove it right into your throat. But, there will be no need for that. Because William...if you really, and I mean truly wanted me dead, you would have already done it by now.

Two, I'm not scared of you...Why? Well....your not choking me. Now you are the one looking like the fool just putting your hand on my neck! You're trying to intimidate me Afton, and that won't work. Your bluffs are see through mucker."

Letting her go, as suddenly as I grabbed her, I pulled back with annoyance and astonishment.

"Mucker? Did you just call me mucker?"

"What'da think of my British slang?" She asked pridefully.

"Needs work." I laughed stepping fully away from her.

"I don't know, I think it was pretty smooth." She shrugged, setting the knife down on her dresser.

Looking at the knife and then back to her, she met my knowing eyes. "If you weren't afraid, then you wouldn't have had it yeah?" I pushed with squinted eyes.

Smirking, she lifted up her eyebrow, "It's incredible how you didn't see me grab it right in front you...even with me in a chokehold!"

"Bullshit." I said rolling my eyes.

"Really?" Y/N asked impishly, "Then where is it?"

"You just put-" stopping in mid sentence, at the knife I watched her put down back into her dresser. She pulled from beside her leg and began spin it between her fingers.

Sighing triumphantly, she finally put the small weapon down, "Go take your shower William. I have a surprise for you when you get out."

"A surprise? Now I'm excited!" I responded facetiously.

"The sooner you stop smelling like a corpse, the sooner you can see it." She mused as she got back to her book.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed in feign hurt.

Laughing, Y/N waved me to the bathroom and I closed the door behind me.

Shaking my head in the mirror, I looked into my shuffled reflection and smiled, "I just might be able to tolerate you..."

#spotify #william afton #fnaf fandom #fnaf #fnaf security breach #william afton x reader #william afton x you #Spotify

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outlustings · 2 years

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Hello there! I've been enjoying every little bit you wrote about Eddie, he's my absolute favourite in the outlast games, your characterization of him is spot on and everything is just fhshdhsjdh

If I may request a thingie, I'd love to see your take on a pregnant psychiatrist assigned to help Eddie, and him being very delusional on who the father is, and thinking it's his

(bonus points if he asks to feel the baby kick)

Thank you so much for what you do! Have a lovely day!

(ok so this got out of hand. you said "your take" and my take is sad and awful and i hate it lol. have 5k words of it.

this is not a cutesy story this is choppily written angst. my film studies teacher would call this high melodrama but i'd personally like to call it me trying to turn my depression into a contagious disease.

reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader also needs a hug, nothing goes well for reader. lots of emotional neglect and sadness and everything. reader is alone in the world lol. enjoy?)

This new job was making you tear your hair out. Interviewing and offering emotional support to insane men wasn't exactly new to you, no, not really, but trying to act calm around a serial killer? That was tough. Not to mention that the moldy, cold building was filled to the brim with these violent people - but for some reason, as a cruel test from the universe, you were assigned to the worst one of them all. Eddie Gluskin. Case number 196. That number would haunt you in your dreams.

Things were going a bit rocky with your spouse at home, but you chose to blame it on the stress of you working in a place like Mount Massive. The reason why he slept on the couch most nights or played net poker into the early hours of the morning on the computer, gambling your savings away - it was just tiredness. Yes. The move had been hard on him. And your new job was hard on him, right? Who the fuck wanted to live in Colorado anyway?

Not to mention all the nights that you spent up and about your tiny apartment, trying to ignore your partner's fist slamming into the desk for the fourth time that night, leafing through past interviews and files upon files of him. Gluskin.

All of those pictures of mutilated women, all of the BDI tests and brain scans and newspaper clippings. Insane prescriptions for sedatives and doctors' handwriting about his medication causing hypersexuality. You spent many sleepless nights thinking about this man. You hadn't even met him yet.

Another thing that drove you practically insane was people grilling you constantly in the breakrooms.

Oh, you know, we're just both so tired from work, and you know, we gotta pay that mortgage, you heard yourself explain to your coworkers for the fifth time in the same month.

We really don't have the energy to focus on kids yet. But you guys are looking great!

But you knew that their nods and smiles as they cradled their tea cups on top of their baby bumps were a front that concealed their pity for you.

Why aren't you pregnant yet, doctor? Why don't you get knocked up, doctor? Why, doctor, I thought you'd be the kind to have kids early? Why don't you come over for Michelle's baby shower, doctor?

It was driving you insane. You weren't safe, not even in the breakroom. You took up a habit of eating your lunch in an empty toilet stall, away from your coworkers.

And then there was Eddie Gluskin.

You hated him. Hated how his eyes wandered down your body as you tried talking to him, hated how his leg brushed up against you underneath the table, how his foreamrs strained against his handcuffs, how his hands ached to wrap around your neck. His sly grin, the way he talked to you, so lightly, as if nothing was wrong. He divulged frustratingly little about anything. All he wanted to talk about was you, himself, and the supposed chemistry between the two of you.

"I knew ever since I first laid eyes on you - you, you would be the one," he'd said once, leaning back in his chair, inspecting your blushing face with a grin.

It was starting to make even the supervisors uncomfortable. They amped up security, for your sake.

What you didn't like was him being restrained - you'd never been comfortable with the extreme measures at Murkoff - but what you liked even less was how entirely convinced he was about your relationship being something other than professional. And it never changed, not even as the weeks went on.

He was talking to you as if you were his dutiful housewife, catching his coat as he shrugged it off after an exhausting day at work before taking his hand and leading him to a plate of some horrific jello slop. The vivid image of yourself in turquoise heels and an apron flashed before your eyes. Marion Ryan on the radio. You almost smiled. This was all so, so stupid.

You shook your head slightly, trying to focus on his words, nodded solemnly before cutting off his monologue.

"Eddie, are you aware of where you are right now?"

He turned his gaze to you. Confused. Maybe even a little offended. But you had to know if he was delusional - maybe regressing into a previous life. Suddenly, in your mind, the lady with the turquoise heels had no face. You wondered who she could've been. Someone else?

"Pardon?" he huffed out, his thick brows knitted together. You had interrupted him so rudely.

You swallowed.

"Are you aware of where you are right now?" you repeated, slower this time.

"Yes? Why'd you ask?" he gave a small laugh, incredulous. Like your question was stupid.

"You seem awfully casual with me," you blurted out, smirking slightly as you watched his cheeks blush faintly. So, so faintly.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"You won't even let me tell you about my day? Like we're strangers," he muttered under his breath, "Stupid bitch."

You frowned.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing," he waved his hand as best as he could in his handcuffs, assumed another casual, charming grin, his eyes glinting dangerously.

Your brain was scrambled. What the hell was going on? You sighed.

"I'm going to let you tell me about your day - but don't call me that," you eyed him, clicking your pen and pressing it against your notepad, ready to cuss him out in an email later.

"Call you what?"

"Anything that you're trying to call me - I know we -..."

"Darling?"

"That too. Just -..." your eyes flicked to your notes, where you began scribbling something.

"Did you enjoy last night?"

You lifted your head up, quirking your brow at him as he grinned at you.

"Last -...? What?" you asked, stopping your pen mid-sentence, staring at him, the way his eyes narrowed and his grin melted into a smirk.

"Try to remember, my love," Eddie leaned closer, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper as you heard his handcuffs clink softly underneath the table, "How I fucked you. The way you were begging for it, little minx."

You blinked at him, heart sinking to your stomach as you felt cold, numb waves flood through your extremities.

"No. That never happened."

Your throat felt suddenly very dry. You watched his eyes rove over your body as he smiled, cocking his head to the side.

"Don't worry, I won't tell them," he winked and gestured towards the two-way mirror to your left, "I know you're a little shy about these things, but it's only natural."

You huffed out a laugh, regretting it immediately as you saw his eyes glint and flick to your lips.

"Right. Okay then," you tried to compose yourself, "I'm sorry, maybe you dreamt it. Because it definitely didn't happen, Eddie."

You kind of wanted to add a second"I'm sorry," to the end but decided against it as you watched his pupils dilate. For a second, the intense blackness swallowed you whole. You shuddered, ever so slightly, but held his gaze.

"Ah," he clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair, making a point in rattling the chains of his handcuffs against his thighs as he adjusted on his seat, "Well, darling - nevermind. I'm just glad we were able to conceive."

Oh Christ.

You couldn't shake the look in his eyes for a few days after your last appointment with him. So intrusive, yet - genuine. Why did he sound so genuine, so sure? You couldn't get the intense, icy blue gaze out of your mind. His boyish grin haunted you.

You'd have to write this down in the notes. His little delusions. Fantasies. At the cost of your own dignity.

You tapped your fingers against the rim of the toilet seat, watching the whirling waters below as you flushed down another cup or so of bile. It was six in the morning.

Morning sickness? Couldn't be.

I mean, you kind of have to, your brain told you as you grabbed the cardboard box on autopilot, shaking the rickety plastic stick out onto your palm. You racked your brain, thinking about your spouse. Maybe - wait, two months ago? You couldn't even tell when the last time was. He hadn't touched you in weeks.

You eyed the unopened pack of pads on the shelf as you tapped your foot against the tile of your bathroom, waiting for the result. Wait, when did you buy that pack again? It was like time was blurring into a big, grey mass and your brain was a fuzzy, great mess. Everything was wrong. You threw a quick glance at the test resting on the edge of the sink. Two lines. Your heart skipped a beat.

You only told your spouse. No one else. Of course, you wouldn't bring it up at work, especially not to him. Eddie Gluskin did not need to know you were pregnant.

You were getting nowhere with him. Even after four months of constant consultations, all he wanted to talk about was his days at the library with anatomy books, playing pool with the other patients and how he'd managed to get two portions of prepackaged dessert by being charming to the staff at the cafeteria. He was deep into his own delusions as ever. Kept calling you his wife. Darling, dearest, beloved. Maybe he really thought you were his.

"He's refused to leave his cell," the guard sighed, crossing his bulky arms, leaning against the doorframe of the empty therapy room, "Unless you come to retrieve him yourself, ma'am."

You blinked at the man, clicking your pen absentmindedly, your eyes flicking to your watch. Twelve minutes late.

"W-why?" you cleared your throat, "Why isn't he cooperating?"

The guard shrugged. Indifferent.

"I don't know, ma'am. But he won't move. He said he won't move unless you, uh, come. And I've got orders -..."

"Yeah, my orders not to restrain him," you finished his sentence and rose from your chair with a sigh, your hand flying to your lower back, "Shit," you muttered.

"Your orders?" the guard scratched the back of his neck.

"Yes?" you quirked a brow, "Is there a problem?"

It came out way more aggressive than you wanted.

"No, no," the guard shook his head, his hand shooting to his belt, where he snatched his keys and started spinning them around in his finger, the little clinks digging into your throbbing brain, "I just thought - you know. You weren't the doctor."

He gave a weak laugh, the kind where he was inviting you to laugh with him. You wanted to punch him.

You slung your bag on your shoulder and frowned pointedly at him.

"No," you said coolly, "I don't know. Shall we go then?"

"You do have a gun on you, right?" you eyed the bars of the cells and how easily they rattled in the fists of the prisoners as the groaned and yelled obscenities at you.

"A taser," the guard mumbled.

You sighed.

"You better have some excellent aim then if shit hits the fan," you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, very aware of the clicks of your heels against the crumbling concrete of the cell block floors and the howling and hissing of the men around you.

You approached the door of the cell that you knew to be his. Your fingers felt numb as you reached out for the bars, grabbing onto them for support as you cleared your throat. The cell was dark.

"Eddie?" you called out softly, "Come on, we have to get going. I'm here now. You're late."

No reply. Your heart beat loudly against your ribs.

"Can you turn the light on?" you hissed at the security guard who blinked at you dumbly. He raised his flashlight.

"He dead?"

"I don't know," you whispered, turning your head back to the cell, "Eddie, wakey wakey," you called out, desperation clawing at your throat. You heard a grunt from the bed of the cell and the guard lit up the cell with his flashlight.

Eddie climbed up from the bed, flashing you a wide grin.

"Darling, you finally came."

"There we go," you sighed, "Come on, there's no time for games, we have to get going, okay?"

You gestured for him to come out. He rose slowly from the bed, walked up to the bars, bare feet slapping against the concrete. He leaned against the bars. He was so much taller than you. You swallowed.

"Where are your slippers?" you heard the guard pipe up from behind you. Eddie just stared at you. Licked his teeth obscenely.

"Eddie, get your shoes on, we have to go," you crossed your arms, tried to ignore his heavy breathing and feverish little mumbles as he pressed himself against the bars.

"Not the cuffs this time, please," he muttered.

"It's policy," you sighed and tapped your heel against the floor, "Let the gentleman here get you into your cuffs and we'll go."

"Why don't you love me?"

"Eddie... Not now. Really."

"Let me out, we can run away - together."

You stepped back but felt his hand snatch your wrist. You squealed. The guard lifted up the taser.

The months dragged on and on. You were heavily pregnant and every day felt like a herculean task. Getting out of bed was hard and it was not only because of your swollen belly. You were overworked and stressed out and your nearly daily run-ins with Gluskin didn't help in the slightest. The higher-ups wanted more therapy, more consultation mingled with whatever the fuck they were doing downstairs. It made him aggressive. Rashes that split his handsome features began popping up on his face, his swollen lips twisted into a frown.

"For the sake of the baby," his voice trembled in frustration as he gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white and distended, "I'll have to work on my moods, darling. But you're really not being very helpful."

You tried very hard to not roll your eyes.

"Okay, do you want to take a break?" you sighed in defeat, tapping your pen against your bottom lip as you eyed your watch. You were only twenty minutes in and it was already going swimmingly. You made a mental note to never bring up his father again. Not on a Monday morning.

"Oh no, you can't just walk away from the mess you've caused," Eddie chuckled, "I know that you lot get hormonal, but really, there's no need for such - vulgarities. Nonsense."

You shook your head.

"I can see that the topic hurts you," you tried to go for an understanding approach but you were interrupted by his scoff.

"Hurts? No - but I'll tell you what hurts," he narrowed his eyes at you, bouncing his leg up and down so that the chains of his handcuffs clinked dangerously, "What hurts is a mother denying the father of her child. That's unbelievable."

You felt coldness settle in the pit of your stomach.

"We've talked about this," you sighed, furrowing your brows, "My... pregnancy - has nothing to do with you, so can we please stay on the subj-..."

"Has nothing to do with me?" Eddie repeated, barking out a breathy laugh, lifting up his hands and slamming them down on the table while looking around the room.

"It really doesn't, Eddie," you gritted your teeth.

"I bet that's why he kicks you so much," he quirked his brow, baring his teeth, his voice lowering to a growl, "A rotten temper - just like Mommy. But no matter, if he has the same smile as you, so lovely..."

You exploded.

"No!" you screamed, rising up from your chair so fast that you knocked it over, "This is enough! This - it's not yours! My baby is. Not. Yours! Your fucking -..." you lifted your hands to your head, tearing at your hair as you swallowed your spit, eyes wide, "Your wet dreams are not real! I'm sorry that you're alone and I'm sorry that I'm such a fucking shitty psychiatrist - god - I can't help you, I really can't! This is not real, the baby is not yours, so stop it! We've never been anything but a doctor and a patient and I'm sorry I can't help you but this is too much! Stop acting like - like... it's..."

You took in shallow breaths, your lungs expanding painfully as a sob racked your body and you shook, your words dying down as you slowly bent down to pick up your chair and slumped on it, your head in your hands, tears streaming down your face as all you heard was the rushing of blood in your ears and the monotone buzzing of the lights above you.

Eddie was silent. You rubbed youe eyes with the heels of your palms, sniffling against your sleeves as you trembled in your chair, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulder. Every bone in your body was screaming for rest.

"I'm sorry," you huffed out after about a minute of tense silence, wiping at your eyes.

"No," Eddie muttered, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"No," you said louder, not making eye contact as you swallowed back another sob, "No, I'm sorry, I should-d-..." you hiccuped, "...- be more professional. It's just that - god, I'm so..."

You couldn't even finish your sentence before burying your head in your hands again, leaning your elbows on the cold steel table between you and him. You heard the rattle of his handcuffs, heard a soft, feathery popping noise and raised your eyes as he waved a tissue in front of you, one that he had plucked from the box on the table.

You took it with a slight, choked out laugh and blew your nose noisily.

"Thanks," you mumbled, dabbing at your eyes with a dry corner.

Eddie just nodded. He watched you wipe your tears, his face blank, but soft. Almost pitying.

"I'm sorry, darling. I upset you."

You always came back to an empty house, your legs sore, your eyes swollen and bloodshot. Yet he wasn't there. The father od your child. He was away most of the time. Kept his distance. Even in bed, he kept his distance, his back turned to you as you rubbed the stretched, itchy skin of your stomach, trying to focus on those crumbly patterns on the ceiling so that you wouldn't start hyperventilating. Then morning came and back to the asylum you went. And back home you came, the smell of piss, blood and hand sanitizer fading into the pungent fumes of fresh paint that wafted from the baby's room and gave you a migraine. You sat on the floor, folding tiny clothes into a bag, unfolding them onto the floor, then folding them again, swallowing back your tears. It's like you were going insane.

You were offered a severance check in February. You took it. You didn't even care anymore - you didn't care where the money came from or what they were trying to say by essentially firing you, leaving you to pack up your office in some damp cardboard boxes - you really didn't give a fuck. You were glad it was over.

But you had to say goodbye. You had to.

You walked up to his cell, nodding at the guard reassuringly as he twisted his key in the lock and wrenched the heavy door open. You swallowed, tugged at your coat and stepped inside his cell. His domain.

Eddie was sitting in the center of the room in a rickety chair. Humming. They must have kicked up the sedatives after your last visit to his cell. You were kind of glad as you eyed the scratchy linen of his straitjacket, how his muscles bulged against the straps. You felt both guilt and a sense of triumph flood over you. What had this place done to you?

You took a deep breath and walked up to him, leaving about two feet of room between the two of you.

"Eddie?"

His head snapped up, startlingly fast. He smiled tiredly.

"My love - I was just thinking about you."

"Eddie, I - uh..."

You didn't even know where to begin. You settled your hand on top of your bump as if trying to suck up courage from your baby. You sighed.

"I'm leaving Mount Massive, Eddie. We're - this is going to be goodbyes, okay?"

Eddie blinked at you.

"What?" his lips parted, his eyes widened as he tried to process what you'd just said.

"Yeah, I'm - I'm leaving," you decided you'd add some finality to this all and continued, "I got fired."

Bullshit.

"No, that's not possible. You were so good to me," he shook his head slightly, his voice quiet yet slightly panicked.

You smiled gently.

"Thank you. But I gotta go now, Eddie. I jist came to - to..."

You didn't know why you came. You watched him stare at you, watched his handsome face stretched into a taut grimace as his eyes drilled into yours. He was silent for a while. You opened your mouth but he interrupted.

"Can I feel it?" his voice was startlingly soft. It trembled ever so slightly, bouncing off the walls of the cell.

"Eddie, I - I really don't know -..."

"Please?" he whispered, "Just for a moment?"

You stared into his eyes, and for a moment, you got lost in the softness of the baby blue - the exact color of a blankie you'd picked out for your baby. Something took over you. Against your better judgement, you nodded slowly, took a few steps towards the man in front of you.

Eddie's face was blank as he leaned to you, his face a few inches away from your bump as you shuddered in the cold air, feeling the indescribable heat of his body against yours as you closed the distance between the two of you. He cocked his head to the side and softly, slowly, pressed his ear against your belly. You held your breath, watched from above as his broad shoulders rose and fell and how he nuzzled his cheek against the roundness of your stomach. For a few heartbeats, he listened, eyes wide. Then his face melted into a soft smile. You watched his lip quiver.

"Ah, a healthy heartbeat. He's strong," Eddie mumbled, craning his neck back and flashing you a slight grin before settling his forehead against your belly.

Against the thin, stretched fabric of your blouse, you felt hot puffs of air fan over your skin as he breathed against you. You swallowed back a lump in your throat, watched as he gave your bump a gentle kiss. Another one. Then he pressed his forehead into you, sighing deeply against your belly.

Everything felt hazy. It took a while for you to adjust to the warmth inside you and when you came to, you found your hands tangled in his black hair, squeezing him closer to your waist in an awkward hug as you stroked his head.

You trembled, your eyes burned and your throat clenched around empty air and the scent of mildew and the scent of the iron bars and the scent of him.

"Hush now," you heard his voice as he cooed to your bump, "Mommy's got to go away now. She's feeling shy - but she'll come back to Daddy with you. All mine."

You let out a shaky sigh and tore your hands from the softness of his hair, hating yourself as white hot disgust pumped through your veins. You looked down at his flushed face, his pleading eyes that were glossy underneath the blinking fluorescent lights.

"I have to go," you croaked out, "I'm sorry."

"Stay, please," Eddie whispered, "Please don't go."

You stepped back, grasping your belly, rubbing at the are where he had touched you. You shook your head, walking backwards, heart beating. He rose from his chair.

"I can't. I have to go."

"No!" he gritted his teeth, his voice getting louder, "You can't leave me!"

He wriggled against his restraints, taking a long step towards you.

"I can't stay," you shook your head, felt a tear roll down your cheek, tasted the salt as you watched him try to shrug off his straitjacket, his wide eyes fixed on you as he grunted in desperation.

"Don't go!" Eddie yelled. You shook your head, tried to open your mouth, but no words came out. Nothing but a weak whimper as you backed out of the cell and slammed the door shut, squeezing the bars between your fingers as you watched him.

"I'll find you, I'll come and see and - and I'll take you and him home! You can't walk away! You can't do this to me!"

You heard him scream as your vision blurred and you stepped back from the cell bars on wobbly legs, turned youe back to him and started walking away towards the doors. Your chest felt heavy. Shattered.

At least someone was excited about the baby.

You heard his voice call your name out to you behind your back, but this time, it was low and gruff, bouncing off the walls sharply, drilling into your brain. Not a smidge of gentleness. Only desperation. But not hysterics, not anymore.

"You know it's not real, right? The child."

You turned around on your heels. He was slumped forward, forehead pressed against the rusting bars, his eyes fixed on yours. His chipper grin was gone. All softness in his face had turned to icy coldness. You shuddered slightly, but didn't open your mouth. Just stared at him with what you hoped looked like pity in your eyes.

"I heard the doctors talk about it. It's not real," he paused before muttering quietly, with a bitter edge to his voice, "I would have given you a real one and you know it."

You wanted to scoff at him. But you didn't. He sounded so sure. Something in your gut told you - no, nothing was wrong. He was wrong.

"Yeah, I know," you spat, "You with your - your fucking... Grasp on all things real. Don't even bother."

You stood there for a moment. Staring at him, your blood feeling cold. An empty, numb buzzing spread throughout your limbs as you looked in his eyes for the last time. One final blow that he had to deal to you.

"Goodbye, Eddie. I wish you the best."

You didn't even know if your words were genuine anymore. You turned around and rushed to the metal stairs, wiping your eyes, sliding your other hand on the railing, hearing the guard's keys clink against his belt behind you as you left case file 196 to rot in his own sickness, his own filth. Fuck him. You didn't even care anymore. That's what you kept telling yourself as sobbed with your forehead pressed against the steering wheel of your car.

A few weeks went by and you kept seeing the man in your dreams. Blood and guts and screaming babies and his god damned smile. You woke up in cold sweats, your heart racing as you felt your belly, felt the kicks that your son gave you. You're safe, you closed your eyes and rubbed your bump, fingers grazing stretched skin and bulging flesh. I'm gonna keep you safely tucked away from Daddy. Then you'd turn to your side and fall asleep quicker than you realised what you'd thought.

The labor was tough. Excruciating. Even with the epidural, you felt nauseous, tingly. Cold. You tossed your head from side to side as you hyperventilated on the plastic sheets, kicking and screaming.

"Emergency caesarean," you'd heard after twenty hours of trying to push. You didn't even care anymore. You just wanted to hold your son. You welcomed the darkness as the clear plastic was cupped over your nose and mouth, the air tasting sweet and viscous and cold. So, so cold.

With all that trouble he gave you, you knew he was his father's son.

Your partner squeezed your hand. You blinked lazily at him, trying to adjust your eyes in the bright light. Dark bags under his wide eyes. His mouth a thin line. Something was wrong. Your stomach jolted.

"What is it?" you muttered, adjusting yourself on the pillows, hearing the fabric rustle underneath you, mingling with the beeps all around you, gripping his hand with numb fingers, "Honey?"

He just shook his head, ever so slightly, his wide eyes still fixed on you. You were starting to feel creeped out, the way he held your hand and just stared. He looked almost catatonic.

"Wh-where's the baby, honey?" you looked around the room, turning your head, tearing your gaze off your spouse. An empty crib with tubes around it, hooked to nothing, undisturbed hospital sheets quivering slightly in the breeze of the air conditioning, "Where's... Where is he?"

You shook your partner's wrist, your brows furrowing.

"Where -...?" you opened your mouth, lifting your upper body off the pillows before being interruoted by a knock at the door.

"Come in," your partner called out hoarsely, not taking his eyes off you.

The door was pushed open. Two doctors with white coats stepped into the room along with a nurse. You eyed them.

"You're awake, we -..."

You interrupted them.

"Where is my baby?" you demanded. Your voice was starting to get louder. They just stood still, quietly.

"Sweetheart," your spouse whispered squeezed your hand, bringing it to your lips. You felt panic constrict your throat.

"Where is my baby?" you yelled. Your words echoed, rattling the linoleum as your chest heaved. The doctors shut the door and stepped to your bedside. Your gaze flickered between their solemn faces and your partner's glistening eyes.

"No," you croaked, your voice going up an octave as you felt coldness spread through your stomach and chest and into your limbs, "Where?"

"Darling... There was no baby," the stranger sitting beside you said with a blank face, his thumbs digging into the flesh of your palm. You breathed in exactly one lungful of the sterile, numbing air, your eyes widening before you distantly felt yourself let out a raw, throat-tearing screech as your world collapsed on itself. You saw nothing. Blackness swallowed you. There was nothing.

#outlast #outlast: whistleblower #outlast x reader #outlast fanfiction #reader insert #eddie gluskin #eddie gluskin x reader #female reader #pregnancy /#childbirth /#im fuckgn screamin how did this turn into a whole ass story

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scarlet2007 · 3 years

Text

BTS reaction #1:- When they kidnapped you. Hyung line.

Warning:- Kidnapping, stalking, mental illness, hacking, yandere! bts, mafia, use of drug, guns.

Masterlist.

Seokjin/Jin.

You sighed as you walk towards Seokjin's room. Working at an asylum is hard and exhausting, especially if your working for the most wanted serial killer who also runs a mafia and does killing as his 'hobby'. You don't understand why they gave you his case, you have just started your carrier, maybe cause you are the only person willing to put up with his disturbing shit.

"Why are you looking as if you are sick, princesses?" Ah, there he is sitting on his chair calling you by the nickname he gave you in your first week of attending him.

"Cause I am sick, Jin," I looked at him, you still wonder how he has not murdered you. You were sure that you were digging your own grave but somehow the mafia leader takes a liking to you, which you don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe he was a bit too touchy but he never really made you uncomfortable, just some innocent hugs and kisses, nothing much or nothing less. You don't have a problem with it as long as he was taking his medicines and therapy.

"Then you shouldn't be here, Princess, and I told you not to come here today why didn't you listened to my warning?" He came closer as you closed the door, he was towering you as he was taller than you and more build-up then you can ever get, it's not like you were a sporty person. You are a lazy potato.

"Jin, it's not the first time you told me that. All those time you warned me not to come at work, nothing happened. Now-" Before you can finish your sentence the emergency alarm went off, warning you that something was wrong.

"What the-? Jin, stay right here! I am going out to check what's going on." You were about to go outside when you heard gunshots coming from outside followed by screaming. Your body froze from the fear you were feeling, seems like someone broke in or a patient got there hands on a gun.

"I told you not to come here today, princess. Now you have to watch these all, my poor innocent baby." Jin walked towards you as you back away from him, maybe this is how you will die, at the hands of a mafia leader who do killing as his 'hobby'.

"Don't come near me, Kim Seokjin, or else I will hurt you." You said in a fake confident voice but your legs gave you out, they were shaking from terror. The gunshots continued outside, the screaming of terror and pain followed by it. Maybe, just maybe, you should have listened to him this time.

"Don't be scared, Princess. I will protect you, don't worry my men will not hurt you as they have given strict instructions to not to just you." He pulled your cowering self in his arms and kissed your head.

"Please...Jin- Let me go, please..." You begged helplessly as your tears began to ruin his shirt, not that he minds it. The door opened and a guy came with a gun, he looked at Seokjin and hand him a bolt, you can't see it because Seokjin pressed your head against his chest.

"Shhh, Princess. Go to sleep." Seokjin pressed a cloth, which you didn't even notice he had, to you mouth as you struggle before the drug kick in your system and you start to lose consciousness.

"Now you are all mine, Princess, all mine and only mine." That was the last thing you heard as your world went black.

Yoongi/Suga.

Yoongi was leaning against the alley wall as he was outside the club he owns as he was smoking, his right hand was bleeding since he just beat someone to death. He has dumped the body on a dumpster, which was were that bastard belongs. He heard some light footsteps but he didn't look up assuming that it was one of his men but when a bandage came in his view he looked up because his men know better than to offer him a bandage. He looked at the person offering him a bandage, he was surprised to see a girl, probably in her early 20s, wearing pyjamas smiling to him.

"Here, you are bleeding Mr." She offered him the bandage which he ignored.

"What are you doing here? This place is not for girls like you, go away before something happens." She made an offended face.

"What do you mean by 'Girls like me?' Just cause I am wearing a pyjamas doesn't mean you can judge me! Here take this bandage." She hands him the bandage but stopped as she eyed the cancer stick on his none injured hand.

"Huh, seems like I have to patch you up since your other hand is busy with that cancer stick." She sighed as she starts to take care of his hand. Yoongi looked at her face silently, wondering why is she not running away from him.

"All done!" She proudly said as she looks at Yoongi's hand. Yoongi looks at his hand, the bandage was done nicely, it even has a cute little bear character. Her phone chimed loudly, startling her.

"Oh? Yeah, yeah, I am coming! Stay where you are! Don't go anywhere!" She starts to walk to the main entrance of the club.

She looks back at Yoongi and yelled," Don't smoke, Mister! It's bad for your health! Take care of your wound, bye!"

Yoongi's eyes followed her as she helps a drunken girl who looks to be her friend into a car. As the car drove away, Yoongi realised that he didn't even get her name. He cursed and kick the wall angrily. Maybe, he will bump into her again.

The next time Yoongi meet you was at a cafe, you were getting a smoothie when Yoongi thanked you for that night.

He asked where did she get the bandage from and you answered by saying that you always carry a mini first aid kit in your car. By the end of the conversation, Yoongi gets to know her name, her number and her.

After that, both of them start to hang out more until Yoongi decided that its time to carry out the plan he has planned. He knows that the instant she finds out that he runs a mafia she is going to run away, which he wouldn't allow. That is why here she is, now drugged, laying on his bed in his mansion. He knows that what he is doing is insane and she is going to hate him for that but in the end, she has to love him again, she has to.

Hoseok/J-hope.

Hoseok first noticed you when you came with your best friend to his dance class, your best friend was looking after you as your mother was out of town.

You and your best friend entered the dance class, "Good evening, sir!" Your best friend exclaimed, making other students look at your way.

"Good evening! Oh? Whose that besides you?" Hoseok looks at you with curious eyes.

"This is my best friend, Y/N! I hope you don't mind her here since I have to look after her cause her mom is in another town."

"Oh, I thought she was your sister since both of you are wearing matching clothes and I don't mind her, why don't you join us, Y/N!"

"Sure, I guess." Those were the first word you said to him.

The dance session went smoothly, you were a born dancer, picking choreography quickly and even help some other students with some complicated moves.

All the things went smoothly until your mother came back to town since your best friend no longer needs to look after you, you stop coming with her to the dance classes.

Hoseok was disappointed to know that but at least he has your number.

From that day onward you and Hoseok start talking to each other every day, each day Hoseok obsession with you increased little by little.

Until one day, he kidnapped, it was not that difficult since you trust him enough to come to an abandoned place without telling anyone where you were going.

"Ohh, little one. I have dreamed of this day from day one, to have you in my arms, protected by me. Now no one can see you or steal you away from me, you are all mine and only mine.

Namjoon/RM.

All you ever wanted was a friend, was that too much to ask for? Well, it seems like it was since here you are hand and legs tied with a thick rope with a ducted tape on your mouth, preventing you from shouting for help.

You tried to make yourself as small as possible as the door opened, revealing you're so-called online best friend.

If only you never went on to message him in the first place, if only you stop talking to him after you told him that he got the wrong number. But you didn't, instead, you keep talking to him, ignoring all the red flags. You just wanted a friend but what you got? A hacker who used to stalk you through your webcam, who has now kidnapped you. You wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be a psychopath- wait he already is since normal people don't kidnap people daily.

You could never agree to meet him at his house, you could at least told someone where you were going and with who you were meeting but you didn't since you knew that your parents will oppose the idea of you meeting a strange who you only know online.

"Aww, look at you, all curled up. It must be cold and lonely without me right?" No, it wasn't but now it's suffocating that you are here, you wanted to say that but you can't because of the tape and all you don't have a death wish, who knows what this psychopath can do to you if you angered him.

"Now that you are here, where you belong, why don't we get to know each other in person? Well, I know everything about you so it would be fair if you know everything about me too but let's not hurry since you are going to spend your whole life here. Aww, don't cry, I know that you are happy to hear it but don't cry, baby. It makes me feel like I have done something wrong."

Namjoon's reaction is a bit shorter than the other, sorry about that. This is my first ever reaction so please bear with me. I hope you guys like it!

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bluboothalassophile · 3 years

Text

Rule of Three

Raven had been left in a bad spot all because of dick. No wait, that was and wasn’t right. Yes, it was because of Dick and dick; fucking dick! She wanted to scream, she wanted to go beat her head against an old iron lamp post or something.

This was New York City! It was hard enough getting a place, getting the lease, the rent and so forth, but now, now she was fucked because of Dick! Oh she was so mad, and if she wasn’t so desperate she’d be actively chewing out Wally and Kori for ditching her and putting her in this pickle to begin with.

It had all been simple really, they’d all been friends at NYU and had decided to go in on an apartment after graduation so they could save some expenses. And it was a splendid idea because, they all just got on fabulously, and they were good friends, so it would be a fine arrangement. Also, they’d all lived together senior year, so this would work in their favor, they knew how to live together. That is until Dick Fucking Grayson came sashaying back into town.

Dick had been Wally’s best friend, and Kori’s true love, and they’d both run to him faster than Raven could say ‘Timbuktu’, leaving her flat on her ass, with a three bedroom apartment she couldn’t afford on her own and only her name on the lease. It made her so mad. The only reason she’d gotten the apartment was because of the three of them she had the best credit score, so… Yeah, she was fucked.

And in an attempt to unfuck herself, she had been interviewing subletters all day, because she was desperate.

Her standards were actually very low at this point, they just couldn’t be serial killers, and they couldn’t work for organized crime. Or be on parole. As Raven had said, her standards were exceptionally, painfully low.

And thus far, all her interviewees were strikes. One was for sure a hitman, the other was probably an addict, the other two were a very incesty vibes set of twins; she didn’t want to know; and then there’d been a for sure runaway who was so not eighteen it was almost funny seeing this kid try to pass for an adult. Raven was loosing hope, she was really loosing hope. After a week of bad interviews she was thinking she’d have to move back to Saugerties with her moms and brother, and that was just going to be the biggest ‘I told you so’ from her aunt. Raven would sell her soul to make the New York dream work, she also might take the hitman as her roommate so she could sic him on Dick fucking Grayson; the dick.

This was her final set of interviews so she might be able to save her ass from moving back to Saugerties and working at the ice cream shop.

“Please don’t be a serial killer, please don’t be a serial killer,” she muttered as she opened her door for the final interviews.

“Oi, Roy! Hurry the fuck up!” a huge man bellowed as he did his tie up.

“I’m here!”

“This is all your fault, so get over here,” the other man ordered.

Raven blinked stupidly as the two hottest men she’d ever seen were standing before her. The first was a massive man, black, curly hair, blue eyes with green rings around then and a smattering of freckles over his nose and cheeks, there was a stubborn white streak in his hair (he looked like Richard Madden who Raven had been crushing on since the Bodyguard). The other guy was a lot leaner, but no less hot; he had long brilliant red hair, sharp features and brilliant green eyes (he looked like Sam Heughan; where the hell did these men get their genetics from!?)

“I can only apologize so many times… and whoa, hey there cutie,” the redhead said with a bright smile. The black haired man shoved the other man’s face back as he looked at Raven.

“Ignore him, he’s an idiot,” he said firmly. “I’m Jason Todd, that’s Roy Harper,” he said with a slight smile, but he kept his face serious.

“Raven Roth,” she said as she shook his hand firmly. “Come in,” she stepped aside and gestured for them to come in. They did, Roy gave her a charming smile, Jason grabbed Roy by the collar and pulled him into the apartment.

“Have a seat, gentlemen,” she said, gesturing to her beat up couch. She took a seat on the barstool as she looked at them. “So… I have just a few basic questions,” she started. “Um… what do you do for a living?”

“I just signed with the Rangers,” Jason stated.

“The Rangers?”

“Jaybird is a hocky defenseman,” Roy smiled.

“Roy here is a pitcher for the New York Yankees. And we’re here because he fucked up and now we’re both on a time crunch, your listing is close enough to where we need to be and far enough away we can be anonymous,” Jason explained.

“It’s not my fault he came back to town!” Roy muttered.

Jason growled lowly as he glared at Roy. “Anyways, we need a place, we don’t smoke, or party, he’s in AA, but I drink, and we keep to ourselves.”

“Oh,” Raven blinked.

“What about you?” Roy asked with a smile.

“I’m working at the library,” Raven explained. “And I’m writing a book, so, there’s that, and I do work for my grandfather, managing his business.”

“Awesome,” Jason nodded.

“So… the rules are simple, I mean I like it quiet and clean, but I don’t want to baby you…”

“Perfect, we don’t need a sitter or a mother,” Jason promised.

“Okay,” Raven nodded.

She asked a few more questions, and they were both happy to answer. She learned Roy was three years sober, Jason was his best friend, they hadn’t ever played a sport in the same city and decided to splurge and room together. They’d been roommates in college. They had had an apartment, but then something had happened, and Jason had decided they needed to be subletters to keep a low profile. Raven was fine with that. When they had discussed the lay out and the apartment, because they were the most normal people she had met with, she had decided to take them up on their offer, because they were willing to cover the apartment so long as she didn’t leak, they lived there. She was fine with that, and when it was all over, she had two roommates.

Jason said he’d make arrangements for their stuff, Roy flirted a bit more with her, which had her blushing a lot before they were gone. Raven shut the door of her apartment feeling a flutter about this, and genuinely excited that she didn’t have to move back to Saugerties.

“Hello?” she answered her phone.

“Raven! I am so sorry I have not been able to call you,” Kori’s voice filled her ear excitedly. “I have spoken to Dick and he would be most pleased if you came to live with us, his brother refuses to move in apparently, so there is a spare room!”

Raven grimaced at the idea of being a fourth wheel and living with a celebrity; Dick Grayson was an Acclaimed Actor in Hollywood afterall and a big heart throb for all the girls. “No, that’s okay, I’ve found someone to sublet,” Raven said.

“Really!?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I am so pleased for you, this will be glorious, Raven!” Kori giggled.

“It’ll be something,” she muttered. “I have to go, my grandfather is calling.”

“I will speak with you soon!” Kori giggled and hung up. Raven just sighed as she leaned on the door. She was feeling all sorts of butterflies and latent attraction thinking about Jason Todd and Roy Harper; they were insanely hot! But they also didn’t seem like bad people, and she was desperately in need of roommates.

She hoped this work, because she needed this to work! Part 2 from @shewhowillnotbenamed1! =) MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

#bluboothalassophile #shewhowillnotbenamed1 #fanfic #raven #jason todd #roy harper #jayrae #royrae #jayraeroy #jayroy #rule of three au #they were roommates

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

So happy together (Spencer Reid / Reader)

Summary: Spencer bumps into an old annoying classmate, who brags about his perfect family, and Reader decides to pretend to be Spencer’s wife to shut him up.

Warnings: As fluffy as you can get

Word count: 2,3K

Part II

Masterlist

It wasn’t strange that Spencer and (Y/N) spent their free time together when they weren’t on a case. Their job at the BAU left them just a few weekends off, and though they were all day on each other’s faces at work, they loved going out whenever the opportunity arose.

It might have been related to the fact they were best friends.

Also to the fact they were in love, but neither of them had still said a word about it.

Years had passed. Years. Morgan and Penelope were going nuts waiting for them to confess their feelings, but though they had literally pushed them together - once they were “accidentally” locked in a supply closet of the BAU for two hours- nothing had happened yet.

Even Hotch was annoyed. He was happy Spencer had someone he loved around him, but all Aaron wanted to tell him was:

- “You have to act on your feelings before it’s too late, ‘cos you never know what will happen tomorrow, not just in this job, but in life. Take what makes you happy and keep it close”.

Of course, the day he tried to talk to Reid, all Hotch managed to say was: “Tell (Y/N) wheels up in thirty” and that was it, but he was planning on giving the kid a speech about love, as soon as he got a chance.

Then again, when did he have time to do anything besides work?

It was Saturday, and Spencer was taking a calm walk in a park with (Y/N). She had promised Mrs. Sanders from 307B she was going to take Lizzy - her five years old corgi - out to play for a while, ‘cos it was making the old woman insane. Mrs. Sanders was the only neighbor (Y/N) actually talked to…. mostly ‘cos she was never long enough in her house to meet the rest of them. (Y/N) took her dog for walks as often as she could, and the old lady always baked her brownies and cookies for her “and her boyfriend”

- “Your boyfriend is too skinny, take him these and tell him you made them for him, men love when a woman cooks for them”- the old lady smiled and gave (Y/N) a tray with freshly made cookies- “And tell him to cut his hair, he looks scruffy”.

(Y/N) never told her otherwise, a part of her loved the idea of Spencer being her boyfriend…. and besides, it would be rude to break an old woman’s heart. Right?

- “Do you want an ice cream?”- Reid asked her and took her from her thoughts.

- “Yes! I need sugar ‘cos I’m so tired I’m gonna fall asleep standing here”- Lizzy barked at them and left her ball on the ground- “You on the other hand, never get tired, do you?”- the young woman threw the ball.

- “Go fetch, baby!!”

Spencer walked to the ice cream truck and got her a chocolate chip cookie dough cone - he didn’t even need to ask- and a mint chocolate chip for himself. He stared at her playing with Lizzy and for a second, he imagined she was actually his girlfriend, and they were spending their day off together, walking their dog, eating ice cream, holding hands. It was perfect in his mind.

- “Here”- he gave her her cone and smiled. (Y/N) was about to thank him when a stranger’s voice stopped her.

- “Spencer!! long time no see! how are you?”- a man stood next to them, he was maybe five years older than them, tall, good looking, he was carrying a little girl in his arms, and holding a woman’s hand tight. She was pregnant and smiling happily. It was the portrait of a perfect family.

- “Carl, hey, hello, how are you?”- Reid was surprised to see him, it had been years since he had seen his old classmate, and he could have lived a long happy life if he hadn’t seen him again.

Carl wasn’t really nice. He wasn’t mean, or a bully, or anything like that. He was just… an asshole sometimes. He was always bragging about everything he had: grades, cars, girls, anything you might think of. Spencer always thought it was because he needed to be validated over and over again as an alfa male, which wasn’t really his problem. But still, after hearing him for years when he was younger, Reid had enough of him.

- “It’s so weird to find you here, I thought you would still have your nose buried in books like you always did on weekends!”- Carl laughed at his own joke, and Reid just nodded, with an awkward smile.

- “No, I… sometimes I go out now”- that was all he managed to say

- “This is my wife, Andrea, and our little angel, Anna, she is three… and Carl Jr is on his way”

- “Nice to meet you”- Spencer waved and couldn’t even introduce (Y/N), ‘cos Carl continued talking.

- “Can you believe I got married? I always said I was never going to settle down and here I am! with a happy family! you should come and visit us! We just bought this fantastic house outside town, with a big yard and lots of space for the kids to run and play!”

(Y/N) stared at Carl and bit her tongue. She had heard about him a lot in the last few years. Spencer told her all about the classmate who kept telling him about the dates he had with the girls he wanted to ask out. And all the fun he had at the parties he wasn’t invited to. And how he managed to always make him feel smaller, though he didn’t actually mean to. Sometimes people can’t help being assholes.

- “And who is your friend?”- the assumption (Y/N) was his friend and not his girlfriend (although it was actually accurate, that was another problem) made Reid’s blood boil. Why couldn’t he have a pretty girlfriend too?

- “Hi! I’m (Y/N), Spencer’s wife”- she waved and smiled- “Sorry I can’t shake your hand”- she added and showed them the dog toy she was holding, and the ice cream cone.

- “Come here Lizzy! come here!”- the dog sat next to her and (Y/N) pet her sweetly.

- “Wife! man! I never thought you had it in you”- Carl didn’t realize he was an ass, he didn’t mean to, but that didn’t stop him.

Spencer just smiled, and in what seemed to be the boldest move he had ever made, he wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s waist and moved her a little closer to him.

- “Yes, we’ve been married for two years already”- she added, resting her head against his arm, feeling her stomach tighten. Spencer’s perfume was all around her, and she loved it. Besides, the fact he was now holding her close was killing her. Literally, she could feel she was about to have a heart attack, and it was completely worth it. It took her a few seconds to realize her ice cream was melting in her hands.

- “Shit!”- she jumped and moved from her “husband” to clean herself.

- “Here”- Carl’s wife handed her some baby wipes and looked at her hands for a second- “Did you lose your ring?”- shit, Andrea was nosy and annoying, just like her hubby.

- “I usually won’t wear it playing with the dog, or at work”- lies came out of (Y/N)’s lips as easy as breathing- “You know… we are both FBI, and you don’t know when someone might actually take advantage of any kind of information they have about you”

- “FBI? you?”- Spencer looked at Carl and sighed. Right, he wasn’t done teasing him yet.

- “Yes, I’ve been working at the BAU for the last couple of years, profiling serial killers”- Reid made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, and (Y/N) decided it was time to brag a little.

- “Honey, don’t be so modest, you are the best profiler, we are the only team with a Doctor in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering”- and Reid blushed- “Besides, you joined the FBI when you were 22 years old”- (Y/N) smiled and looked at Carl- “Did you know he is the youngest SSA the bureau had ever have? there was no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace inside of an hour”

Carl looked at Reid and nodded, trying to find something to say.

- “That’s great, I’ve got my own law firm by the way, in case you ever get in trouble”- he joked and looked at (Y/N)- “Or in case you want to divorce him ‘cos he ignores you over books”

- “I could never! did you know he has saved around 352 lives in the last two years? he actually got the FBI Medal for Meritorious Achievement a few months ago… I am so proud”- (Y/N) leaned in and kissed Spencer’s cheek. He looked at her blushing and just smiled.

- “You look adorable”- Andrea finally said- “It’s like you just started dating!”

- “Well, we have to go”- Carl didn’t manage being overshadowed very well- “It was very nice to see you, Spencer”

- “Same! take care, nice to meet you, Andrea”- Reid waved and smiled. (Y/N) did the same and kept eating her ice cream.

- “I hate him”- she whispered as soon as they were far enough not to listen- “I’m so glad we didn’t invite them to our wedding”- Reid laughed and shook his head

- “You didn’t have to do that”

- “Nah, I wanted to”- she really did- “He was being a jerk, just like you told me he was”

- “He doesn’t mean to… I think”

- “Well, he got what he deserved”- (Y/N) felt Spencer’s eyes on her, looking at her in adoration.

- “Thank you, buttercup”- and she giggled

- “You are very welcome, honey bunny…”- and the silence seemed to last for ages until Lizzy started barking.

(Y/N) smiled and looked away from him, knowing she was blushing. She really loved that nickname, and he didn’t call her by it as often as she would like. She grabbed the dog toy from the ground and threw it to Lizzy, who ran immediately.

- “Mrs. Sanders made you cookies”- she said after a few minutes- “But she said I had to tell you I baked them for you, ‘cos that what’s girlfriend’s do to get men’s hearts”- Reid’s cheeks were still red, and those words didn’t make it better- “But considering we are already married, I guess I don’t have to do that anymore”.

They both laughed and then, stayed quiet again. Reid could hear Rossi’s voice yelling in the back of his head “Ask the girl out, for crying out loud”, but he couldn’t even open his mouth, petrified.

(Y/N) finished her ice cream, watching Lizzy playing with other dogs, and sighed. They were standing side by side, both looking ahead.

- “We should head back”

- “Doyouwannagooutwithme?”

The slur of words was so fast, not even Spencer understood what he had just said. But (Y/N) did. She stood next to him feeling her knees shaking, as well as her hands. It had happened. It had finally happened. In her head, she was screaming “YES, OF COURSE I WANT TO”, but her lips weren’t moving, and Reid was starting to panic. Maybe Morgan was wrong, and (Y/N) did like him that way. Maybe he had just ruined the best friendship he had ever had. Shit! what had he done.

- “I mean, I understand if you…”- but she didn’t let him finish

- “Yes, I do”- that was really all she could process. And he didn’t know what to say next. There was no random fact to kill the silence, they would always have a lot to talk about, but that time they were speechless.

- “Tomorrow?”- he managed to whisper

- “Ok”- she nodded as the two of them kept looking at Lizzy

- “I’ll pick you up for dinner”- Spencer’s voice was so soft he was scared it was going to shake and embarrass him (he was already embarrassed, but he didn’t want to make it worst).

- “Sounds good”- (Y/N) slowly turned her head and looked at him, nearly holding her breath. Her best friend finally asked her out. The best friend she had been in love with for years had just asked her out on a date. And all she managed to say was:

- “So… do you want a cookie?”

- “Sure…”- he nodded and smiled. (Y/N) called Lizzy and put on her leash. Gave Spencer the paper bag with homemade cookies she carried in her purse and smiled.

- “Did you know Christmas cookies date back to Medieval Europe?”- and there it was, Spencer’s random fact of the day, just on time to kill the silence when they were about to reach (Y/N)’s apartment.

- “Really?”

- “Yeah, the traditional Christmas flavors, like cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger, became very popular, and those are exactly the same spices medieval cooks would have used in their cookies ages ago”

- “I love Christmas cookies”

- “I know”- he smiled and looked at her- You bake them all year long

- “I can’t help it, they are too good”- she giggled and stood outside her building door. They just stared and smiled, Lizzy trying to get (Y/N)’s attention rubbing her head against her leg.

- “I’ll see you tomorrow then”- Spencer blushed at the hint of their date and (Y/N) nodded

- “See you tomorrow”- and neither of them moved. Lizzy barked again and forced (Y/N) to wave and open the door. Spencer just stood there for a second, staring at the empty space in front of him where (Y/N) was standing a few seconds ago, and suddenly, it all sank in.

- “What the fuck did I just do?”

#Spencer reid #matthew Gray Gubler #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #david rossi #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #fluff #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #dr spencer reid #babymetaldoll writes

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divinerulerluvr · 3 years

Text

Sweet Serial Killer ||

Summary - Inmate Kai Anderson further seduces his new guard after preying on her for weeks.

Part 1 is here

Suggested by @iheartfrogs101

Note - I was inspired by this post for the whole shaving Kai plot. Definitely go read it :)

- - -

“Hey, Y/l/n,” A guard calls out to me as i sit in the break room. I look up to him, my eyebrows raised in question as i play with the water bottle in my hand. “The guy on your block has gotten himself in trouble and you need to shave his face,”

“Why me?” i ask with dread.

“‘Cause it’s that or you guard the deranged idiot on block six. Pick your battles, sweetheart,” he shrugs before walking back out of the break room. With an irritated huff, i stand from the couch and head off to the room where prisoners would get groomed.

Kai had been a pain in my ass lately. I never let him out unless instructed to no matter how often he pleads. He pretends he knows everything about me when in reality, he knows nothing.

I walk into the room and see he wasn't there yet. I gather all needed materials like the straight edge razor and cheap shaving cream before leaning against the counter as i wait. Kai is eventually escorted into the room. Two buff guards stand on either side of him even though he was shackled like an animal.

Not that it was a bad thing.

The guards push him onto the chair, cuffing his hands to the arms of the chairs no matter how many snide comments he makes. The guards glanced at me before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

This room was very depressing. Gray walls and a dark blue door with a small window on it. Nothing else for decoration but a single counter and the chair bolted to the ground. I’d hate to be a prisoner. It’s just… sad.

A smirk spreads on his lips as he looks at me. “I asked for you,” he says, causing me to internally roll my eyes. “I wanted us to get as close as possible,” he chuckles maliciously. He had an agenda. Any dumb person could see that.

Grabbing the blade and shaving cream, i step wearily towards him. Kai looks up at me, his leg bouncing obnoxiously. I apply the cream to his face, avoiding eye contact at all costs. His leg moving was throwing me off and with such a difficult blade, i was afraid i’d cut him.

“Can you stop bouncing your goddam leg?” i snap, closing my eyes in frustration. He grins. “What vulgar language, doll,” he comments. He was getting on my nerves already. He continued to bounce his leg, keeping me unable to properly shave his face.

Completely fed up, i place my hand on his knee to stop it from moving. I knew this was what he wanted, but i just needed to shave him and get over with it.

I press the blade to his skin, moving it along his neck and cheek to shave his face. Wiping the excess shaving cream onto the towel, i see the triumphant and cocky look on his face. “I can feel your heartbeat,” he says, referring to how my wrist rested on his cheek.

He was right. My heart was just about ready to explode in my chest. Being so close to a convicted murderer was killing me. I was an equal mix of afraid and horny.

“Do i scare you, Y/n?”

I quickly shake my head. Lying to both him and myself. He didn’t scare me. The situation scares me. “Do i turn you on, then?” he asks instead. Swallowing thickly, i use all my focus on shaving his face and not cutting him.

“If you uncuff me i could release that… tension,” he suggests, his motive showing clear as day. He just wanted to get unchained to be free. “I don’t have the keys,” i say blatantly. He scoffs. “Bullshit,” he calls out.

I stay silent, wiping off the shaving cream from the blade. “What are these?” he snarkily says, using the little mobility he has in his hand to jingle the keys that dangle from my belt. I step back from him, glaring down at him.

“You wanna know what i think about at night, princess?” he questions, his dark eyes daring me to go with his games. “What?” i ask, getting it over with as i lean in to finish shaving his face. “You,” he states.

He sighs softly, as if recalling past thoughts. “I think about so many things. I think about your body. How fucking hot your moans would be as i rail you. How sensitive a sweet virgin like you would be. How i know i could make you quiver at just a light touch,”

I push my thighs together, keeping any excitement suppressed as i continue shaving him. “I bet you like being dominated. Like having all say taken away and being abused. Men need women like you. There isn’t any power drain when the woman has absolutely no fucking power,” he explains, staring me down.

His eyes pierce into my soul. Digging through my mind as he overanalyzes me. “Cute little pillow princesses like you are always the best. They’re too desperate for validation and approval to argue. What their master says, goes,” he says with a shrug.

The burning in my lower stomach was intense. I felt my cheeks get hot and my skin start to prickle with pure arousal. He caught onto this, of course. Proud of how he got me to react. “Let me touch you, Y/n. I want to feel you,” he says.

I wouldn’t call it begging. Instead, it was more or less an order. Him telling me what to do. Finishing shaving his face, i step away from him. I turn my back to him, letting me gather myself and take a breath.

Turning back to face him, i could see the painfully obvious boner in his pants. My eyes meet his and i could see the devilish look in them. “There are cameras, Kai,” i say.

He groans, repositioning in his seat. “I like the way you say my name. You should be moaning it instead,” he slyly remarks. “Just uncuff one of my hands and let me touch you,” he negotiates instead.

My feelings of lust had overpowered my logic and i really wanted to uncuff his hand.

“Do it for your master,” he probes, the name he gave himself causing a shock of arousal to course through my system. He stares me down, the dark color of his beautiful eyes making me melt to his evil will.

Stepping towards him, i grab the key on my belt and uncuff one of his hands. “What about the cameras?” i ask. His hand immediately went for my body, running up my side and massaging my breast.

“Surprise, doll. They don’t work. Bit of a virus, you could say,” he says, a sinister tone in his voice telling me he fucked them up himself somehow. A small smile spreads on my lips as his hand runs down to between my legs. He doesn’t bother going into my pants and stays on the outside.

His fingers run over my clothed clit, my hips bucking at the sensation. “Come on, princess. Sit on my lap,” he coaxes. I obey, sitting on his lap and letting him spread my legs. He runs his hand up my inner thigh, toying with the fabric of my pants as a way to tease me.

His breath fans my face softly, his lips grazing the heated skin of my cheek. He runs his thumb over my core, a weak moan leaving my lips. He kisses my jaw, biting at the sensitive skin as he rubs my clit through my pants.

“My sweet, sweet girl,” he tsks into my ear as he slithers his hands under my pants but not going under my underwear. “You’re soaked through. Maybe you’re needier than i thought,” he teases, a smirk in his voice.

He continues to rub my covered clit, his hand's warmth reaching my skin through the thin fabric of my underwear. I could feel his boner pressed against my ass, obnoxiously pressed into my skin.

I arch my back, pushing my hips shamelessly into the palm of his hand. He hums in satisfaction, his fingers working wonders on my sensitive clit as he pushes me closer and closer to an orgasm.

He presses soft kisses to my neck before digging his teeth into my skin, pulling a shaky moan from my mouth. I could feel a slight tremble in my legs as i squirm on his lap. He was right. I could feel my wetness absolutely soaking my underwear now that he was touching me.

I could feel his eyes studying my reaction to his touch. Relishing in how sensitive i was and how easily submissive i was to him. I rest my head back onto his shoulder, giving him more access to my neck for him to mark.

“It’s insane how i have more power over you and i’m the one half chained up,” he comments, chuckling darkly as his fingers pick up speed. I rest my hand on his arm that had the restraints on it, my nails digging into his warm skin as my walls convulse with the threat of an oncoming orgasm.

“Cum for me. I want to see you fall apart,” he encourages me. With his permission, i allow myself to let go from the thin and fraying strand that was my sanity.

It felt heavenly. Every single nerve in my body was buzzing with electrical fire and every single drop of blood in my veins bubbled and boiled deliciously. An exasperated moan falls from my lips, my legs shaking as i let the pleasure take over me.

Kai overstimulates me through my orgasm, his fingers now ceasing to just rubbing slow circles on my clothed clit. The fact that i had never once felt his fingers against my clit disappointing me. But it was again a part of his plan to make me continue coming back to him.

And if i’m being honest, it works.

He finally pulls his hand out from my pants, running his hand up my leg and trailing up my stomach and chest until he reaches my neck coated in red bite marks that would soon blossom into bruises.

“Beautiful,” he compliments under his breath. I open my eyes, only to see his eyes already taking in my disheveled state. “You should probably go. I’d love for you to stay but, i doubt it takes more than five minutes to shave a man’s face,”

I just nod, quickly getting off his lap and fixing myself. “Guards!” i call out weakly, opening the door that was locked after i had re-cuffed Kai’s free hand. The two men come in and uncuff Kai only to shackle his hands to his waist belt.

As he’s being escorted out, he glances back to me and winks. With this gesture, i felt my stomach drop.

I had been seduced by a serial killer.

#evan peters #kai anderson #kai anderson fic #ahs #ahs cult #part 2 #smut #fic #absolutely no fluff #not even if you squint #come on #hes a murderer

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Text

Pining John Pt. 2

Please if you have any pining!John fics (like Sherlock accidentally hurts him like he did molly with the Christmas gift) I would absolutely love that!! Thank you so much😊(submitted by @thediamondwoman)

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: hi! New Johnlocker here, this is a fic rec ask, but do you have any fics where John is pining/suppressing/ignoring his feelings for Sherlock? Preferably after TRF, and without Mary in the way, and a slow burn one (sorry for all the preferences just one with pining John would be fine) and thank you for being a blog currently reading all your metas and they are amazing <3333

@i-love-books-and-so-do-you asked: hullo!! *waves* i’m in the mood for some pining john, so i was wondering if you have any good ones? preferably with a happy ending

and may i just say your blog is GORGEOUS like all your fic recs *chef’s kiss* thank you for the literal best johnlock content <33

——-

Hi Lovelies!!!

First of all, thank you for your love for my lists! LOL! These asks just keep coming in, so it looks like I’m overdue for another pining John list!!

That said I do actually have pining John fics, and enough to start a second list! As I re-read fics, I’m able to keep adding all the old ones I didn’t tag ages ago to lists, so that’s fun, hahah. Hope you guys don’t mind me just combining all the pining into one list, hahaah. I get more fics that way LOL!

Enjoy, and feel free to add your own, friends!

See also:

Pining John

Pining Sherlock || [MOBILE FRIENDLY VERSION]

Mutual Pining

Mutual Pining Pt 2

John’s Away (and Sherlock’s Not Okay)

Caffeine and Adaptive Programming by DemonicSymphony (E, 5,540 w., 1 Ch. || Androids AU / Bond Fusion || Android Sherlock, Coffee Shop AU, Pining John Hinted Bond / Q, Toplock) – Sherlock is a coffee shop android slowly falling for a regular customer. But he's not supposed to be able to feel emotions.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w., 6 Ch. || Five and Ones, Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Showering Together, Couple for a Case, Sherlock’s Bum, Fantasies, Jealous Sherlock) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #pining john #pining idiots #my fic recs #submission #i-love-books-and-so-do-you #long post

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hecatescrystaldagger · 2 years

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𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮

Emily Prentiss x Reader

For @badussy69 <3

Taglist: @imstacysmomtm @badussy69 @winters-witch-bitch @lanawinters-ily @loverofallthingssarah @rainbow-hedgehog @star2684 @daemon-winged-daydream

TW: talk about murder, torture, and serial killers.

Me and Emily are a team. We always have been. We work best together; solving cases with an ease that no one else can replicate. Everyone else in the team believes that we’re only this good because we train hard and we performed well at the academy. However, they’re all wrong. They don’t know the real reason why we can think like the unsubs. They don’t know the real reason why we can find every single dumping ground for evidence. You see; we’re a team even outside of the BAU because me and Emily are the serial killers that the FBI has been investigating and hunting for the last four years. The thrill that I get when I kill people with the love of my life is something that not even the best drugs on the planet could compare to. The joy that can be found when you’re dancing around in puddles of blood with a goddess that walks the earth. Killing people is so easy and freeing. Emily is happiest when she’s slicing the throats of men who believe that we’re offering them a night of fun. I’m happy knowing that we’re killing people right under the FBI’s nose and they don’t suspect a thing. Why would they ever suspect their own employees?

The team has just left our house after we all spent dinner discussing the elusive killers that have been taunting them for so long. Could you imagine the look on their faces if they realised that all the evidence they could ever need is in the very house they’ve just left? I know that a part of Emily wishes we were able to share this important part of our lives with the people that we’ve come to regard as family, but at the end of the day us being free and together is more important than an open and honest relationship with them. I love Emily too much to ever be apart from her. She looks so beautiful with crimson blood smeared all over her hands and face. And the wild, insane look in her eyes as the victim finally dies lights up her face like the sun lights up the earth. The adorable concentrated face she makes as she contemplates how to torture our victims next makes me want to spend the rest of my life doing this with her. She’s perfect for me. She’s mine. Now I just have to get the courage to ask her the most important question ever. The ring is heavy in my hand. She has to say yes. If she doesn’t then I’ll have to kill her so that our secret doesn’t get out. But I know in my heart she could never say no because we were made for each other.

It’s so easy to walk into the living room knowing that my soulmate is waiting for me. The smile lights up both our faces when we make eye contact. She hasn’t even noticed the box clutched in my hand. As I drop to one knee, she gasps and stares at me. ‘Emily, you’re the epitome of perfection and I could never imagine spending a day without you in my life. You’re my soulmate and I want to spend the rest of my life being with you and killing with you. Will you marry me?’ During my speech, I manage to not stutter or cry. Emily, however, is crying as she says yes and in my eyes, she’s never looked more gorgeous. I can’t wait for the rest of our lives together.

#cm #criminal minds #emily prentiss #we stan bad bitches that commit murder #pls this is awful #<3

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

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Hopelessness of Wanting

Part 2 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

remember that request on @raulesparzaconfessions asking for Chilton being evil & angst??? and I said I would never do that to my poor Frederick darling? WELL I DID.

Warnings: Darkfic! NSFW. Noncon (nonconsensual blowjob), doctor-patient sexual abuse, past child sexual abuse, angst, self-loathing Chilton. Part 2 will contain suicidal thinking. This is honestly so melodramatic. I apologize to everyone on my tag list.

1k words

If anyone had been outside women’s wing cell 4B, they would have heard a wet choking sound. If they were among the less jaded of the staff, they might have investigated, but that sort of altruism was quickly extinguished here.

The occupant of this particular cell was named Julianne Barker. From three to fourteen years of age, she was sexually assaulted by first her father, then her brother, and then by dozens of men who paid fifty dollars for the privilege. At fourteen, Julianne picked up her father’s shotgun and shot him, her brother, and two other men in the house point-blank as they slept.

That was how she came to live at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

A blue light flashed rhythmically from inside the cell. The choking noises, slurping and gurgled, seemed to almost follow the rhythm of the lights.

Julianne was a docile patient. Without access to firearms she was harmless, and for the last ten years claimed to have no memory of the violent act at all. Her entire memory and very sense of self was a scrambled mess.

That was why Dr. Frederick Chilton began treating her with hypnotic therapy, to pull those buried memories out of her. It was meant to help her recovery. That was his intent, at the outset.

Wet noises were now accompanied by rustling fabric, audible if one were to stand just outside the door. Shaking breaths grew steadily louder. The brief screech of chair legs on the floor as a hand gripped it for support. A low moan rose above it all, a guttural cry that faltered and trembled in time with the steady, wet sucking. Choking. Slurping.

It was an accident—that was important for you to understand!

Dr. Chilton’s voice cracked as he lost control, his hips driving forward—an unconscious mistake—to be met with gagging, sputtering, as his broken scream echoed off the cell’s bare walls. And then the only noise was panting. The screech of the chair again as he slumped back down upon it and wiped his brow. Finally, he cleared his throat and tucked himself back into his pants. Sat up straight.

In a smooth, authoritative voice, he said, “Waking now. You’re waking in a quiet room. Safe. Calm.”

It was an accident—the first time it happened. Julianne did not only relive her memories when put under hypnosis, but fell into a full regressive dissociative state. Chilton had not been expecting the willowy young woman to suddenly get on her knees and begin unbuckling his pants.

And yet, when he realized that he was alone… that he had sole access to the security tapes and the guards would look the other way… he did not stop her. Neither did he do anything to force her! Never wove his fingers through her yellow hair or bucked into her mouth. Everything she did was her own volition.

That was how he justified it to himself.

Acting out traumatic memories could be therapeutic in many circumstances. It allowed her to take control of her past. It was exposure therapy. At best, he was helping. At worst, she never remembered or knew what was real. Always enjoyed their “sessions.”

That was how he justified it to himself.

He knew it was sick. But what did it matter? He had given up ever finding a real relationship. Hannibal Lecter turned out to be a serial killer. Will Graham was running around Italy chasing him. Neither man ever returned his admiration. Chilton had given up entirely on love, himself, and the dull pretense of morality.

He would never get to fuck the mouth he truly wanted—never see the lips he pretended were parted around his cock anywhere but his imagination.

You would never desire the old, scarred doctor—the autocratic, pompous Dr. Chilton, twice-maimed and hated by his own staff.

Might as well take it where he could.

***

As he opened the door to the cell, his heart leaped into his throat and he barely caught a yelp before it burst in its humiliating high pitch from his mouth.

“Oh! Dr. Chilton! S-sorry, I didn’t know you were in a session!” you stammered.

The perfect lips he had been picturing now parted in surprise. Your eyes shone like the sun. He forgot to breathe. Then the shame of what he’d done came crashing back, and the way you, in your perfection, avoided looking at his face—his scar—pierced him.

“You forgot to check schedules? Again?” he chided, voice cold as the dead thing in his chest.

“No, sir! I mean—”

“It’s fine, Dr. Chilton. You’re the one who’s supposed to be in his office right now, according to your own schedule.” Nurse Clerval strode into the hallway behind you, white sneakers silent on the stone floor.

Your face lit up for your rescuer—that bright, innocent smile that was almost always present (the exception, of course, being when he was around). Clerval had a soft spot for protecting you. All of his staff seemed to. Who could blame them? The newest nurse, like a lost puppy, who hadn’t yet lost your shine as everyone in this dismal place eventually did. It only drove home his own loneliness, and the hopelessness of wanting you.

“How careless of me,” Chilton said before rolling his eyes directly at you. “Fortunate you have friends to speak for you.” He got a twisted pleasure from watching your smile fall again.

It was the best he could do, he thought as he limped away, the tension on his abdominal scar acting up. If he couldn’t have your light for himself, he could at least stomp some of it out so it wasn’t taunting him all the time.

He knew that was no justification, but what did it matter?

He was filth. The only reason he survived Miriam Lass’s bullet was to suffer more on this Earth—he knew that was the truth, because he didn’t deserve to be spared. It wasn’t a miracle. It was justice.

He simply hadn’t suffered enough yet.

You were everything he was not, thrown in his face to torment him. Always so kind, and full of life—a sunflower standing tall above a garden of thorny roses. Loved by all. And he coveted you for himself. Needed you like rain. But beautiful creatures always turned their faces toward the light. You would never cast an eye down to him—the thorniest vine whose petals had all been stripped away, never to bloom again. He was lost in a place of shadows you would never see.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @barbasimp / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemadxxhouse

Just ask if you wanna be added (or taken off after being exposed to whatever this was XD)

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #this will be a short series (was going to be a oneshot but I wrote this much & was like... post.)#dark fic #I don't think Freddy would actually do this??#but I also don't... not... think that he might #my writing

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notmrskennedy · 4 years

Text

Eight Seconds

Howdy! I’m honestly freaking out bc this the first Spencer Reid anything I’ve written and bc I try not to out myself as country too much bc well the world right now. (I honestly wish there was more people out there who had a thing for cowgirls/boys as I do.) I hope at least one person enjoys it as much as I liked writing it.

Summary: Spencer Reid meets the cowgirl of his dreams...

Warnings: I think I swear like twice? other than that it’s fluff

Word count: 4.5k

----------

He doesn’t think that it would be Penelope Garcia to catch him. Sure, she’s a genius and a tech wizard and an overall queen at gathering gossip. But she isn’t around him as much as JJ. Or Emily. Or Morgan.

What gave him away to her and not everyone else?

Because he knows he’s given something away when she texts him. Urgent. Batcave now! He’s hopeful. Optimistic. Maybe Penelope’s got some burning question about Star Trek. Or Doctor Who. Or when the next convention is. Maybe it’s a serial killer.

But he isn’t that lucky. Spencer Reid never is.

He knocks hesitantly, worried for exactly what’s to come. Her gaze snaps up from her tablet. Snaps to him in an incessant kind of ‘I know what you did’ way. It’s a look for scolding children. Not a pleasant, let’s have a tea time chat, gaze.

Spencer settles into the extra chair and waits. There’s a storm brewing behind her eyes and when she finally speaks, she doesn’t disappoint.

“What’s her name?”

And he can’t stop it. Lovesick smile, starry eyes—Penelope doesn’t have to be a profiler to see it before he sobers up. Her mouth opens into a toothy grin. An insufferably contagious grin and he knows he’s caught for sure.

He leans back in the desk chair, stares up at the ceiling and breathily whispers, “Shawn.”

“Oh!” Penelope gasps. He can hear the mental scolding. There’s backtracking with no end in sight. “Well, I didn’t mean to presume and it’s—it’s okay if Shawn is—or you’re—and I just didn’t know—you never said anything—“

“Relax,” he chuckles and grins at her softly for good measure. “Shawn is a girl. Her legal name is Shawna if you’re that curious.”

And he knows Penelope is curious. She’s grinning and waiting and listening. He can tell she wants to prompt. To ask questions. To dig through every tiny detail she can. Is it bad to make her wait? To not want anyone to know about the girlfriend he’s kept hidden for so long?

“Tell me more,” Penelope buzzes, bouncing in her seat, monitors—work—forgotten. “Where did you love story begin?”

He smiles to himself. It’s not a matter of when, but how long.

It took eight seconds. All of eight seconds.

At first, he wasn’t even sure it was eight seconds. He’d been running, running harder than he ever had. Chucks flapping against the hard packed dirt. Horse trailers flying by him as he jumped hitches and slipped through patches of mud.

It was five minutes of burning lungs and dust caked nostrils before those eight seconds. Quick glances between trailers. Got to keep moving, Reid, got to keep up. Because Morgan’s chanting was getting distant, too distant. The last time they’d split up—

Five minutes of a maze he hadn’t learned. Five minutes of being utterly lost, following the sound of Morgan’s thundering boots and desperation. They were all desperate. It was a desperate move to keep running, not to find solace in an empty horse trailer on the killer’s part. The bastard thought he could lose them, shake the FBI agents off his tail.

Reid knew better, but he was getting desperate too. His lungs were burning. It’d only been five minutes.

“FBI! Stop!” Morgan shouted from behind him. Reid skidded through a patch of horse shit into the main thoroughfare. Thank god. No more trailers. A walkway, a solid walkway, a clear line of sight. The man was running. Why do they always run?

Reid picks up his lungs in his desperate hands and pushes on. Grits his teeth, clenches down on every spare inch of fortitude left. Morgan catches up easily but doesn’t surpass. They’re both tired. They’re both panting. They’ve both got weapons drawn, but who could make a shot at 50 yards with a moving target?

Not Reid. He knew better.

But Morgan tried one more time. Shouted and called and screamed. The man didn’t look back. Prison was on his heels and he was desperate enough to keep running. A coward. There wouldn’t be a standoff. Smart enough to not get cornered, not smart enough to keep from getting caught.

They both pushed harder. This was their eight seconds. They were getting close, they reasoned to themselves, hearts panting to the same rhythm. They could keep it together for these last seconds. He’d get tired—they were getting tired—he had to be tired by now.

He was racing in snakeskin cowboy boots. How could he be keeping that pace in those shoes?

Reid hoped his lungs would give out. Save the heroic work for Morgan. Morgan could get the bad guy. Morgan could get the girl. He could have anything he wanted. Reid just wanted to fall face first into the dirt and let the fresh mud extinguish the flames in his lungs. In his throat. In his mouth.

But then the eight seconds came.

In the first second, he realised his heart didn’t gallop. It didn’t have the imprints of hooves. It wasn’t the two thousand pound animal gaining momentum behind him. His heart was clogging his ears that badly. Thankfully, with his wits about him, he looked back.

In the second second, Reid saw the animal. Mid-step, perfect stride. A plastic figurine of a race horse, nostrils wide at the end of its long face. It took only the second second to see the crazy in the horse’s eyes. How they focused and blinked and bled the insanity. How it was more beast than domesticated pet. Reid was convinced the black stockings on its legs were dripping grease from its gears. He could see the muscle in its shoulders and flanks. Muscle groupings bigger than him. An animal that could crush him. A machine running with a single thought: faster.

He saw the rider in the third second. One he didn’t expect. Maybe it was his own memories of cowboy movies, but cowboys weren’t supposed to be dipped in glitter. Weren’t supposed to be such overtly female. But there she was. Her dark curls billowing behind her. Sun glinting off the gold of her hat. Glinting off the impressive amount of glitter on her eyelids. And the rhinestones on her black button-down. She was stunning. Furrowed in her concentration. Elated in her grin.

The rope came in the fourth. It was twisting in her hand, coil and reins held precariously in her other. It loops over her head, slack enough to swallow her whole. Slack enough to get caught on her. Get caught on the horse. She keeps perfect control and the hand comes around and around until she—

In the fifth second, the rope releases and Reid slows his feet to watch it. The horse has gained on the man, so close that teeth could get involved. The man doesn’t seem to know, or is too desperate to change direction. Because he’s gone straight and the horse has followed and the rope is sliding through her hand like it’s meant to be there forever. It goes and goes and goes. He thinks the loop is bound to catch her foot, a hoof, something. But it doesn’t. It never does.

With six seconds down, the man finds he doesn’t have feet anymore. The loop of the rope tightens around his legs and he’s falling. He doesn’t have feet under him. Barely hands to save his face. Reid hopes the fall is harder than it needs to be. But he’s not focused on the man, he’s focused on the girl. The girl who expertly catches the rope in her hands. Who expertly ties the end around the saddle horn. Who’s horse pulls the rope taut and the man goes down.

At seven seconds, the horse is still backing. It knows. It’s practiced. Reid can see the elation on both rider and animal. Their pride is palpable. He doesn’t know it, but this is the best run they’ve done together. Not the fastest, but the best.

Eight seconds is when the girl turns to them. Grinning, hollering, hands up in the air. Reid watches as they catch up, slowing down to match the horse’s speed. The man tries to flip himself over, dragging on his back towards the federal agents. Reid can feel his heart and he wonders if it’s beating harder from the run or the thrill.

He’ll never admit it but he’s always wanted to be a cowboy. This girl has his other dream in her hands, wearing it as her favourite belt buckle.

Eight seconds later and she’s smiling down at the agents, still hollering some form of yeehaw! Reid grins, dragging his aching limbs forward to help Morgan flip the man onto his stomach and cuff him. The dragging discontinues and the horse knickers his anger that the trial is over.

Reid loosens the rope from the man’s feet, working the fray between his fingers. He moves to hand it to the cowgirl but she’s already snapping it from him and coiling it back up. She latches it back to her saddle, chest heaving with the excitement of it all.

“Bitch!” the man spits as Morgan hauls him to his feet.

The girl just smirks and tips her hat back. Reid can’t help but watch her pretty red lips as she says, “I’ll stick my foot so far up your ass, you’ll taste my good leather if you don’t shut your goddamn mouth.” Vulgarity has never sounded better off of anyone else’s tongue. She’s got the first sermon he’s ever wanted to listen to sitting on her lips and he wonders if this is why people believe in God. If pretty girls have always made men believe in things they shouldn’t.

Her drawl is thick, sticky, and unsweet. She’s got more threats bubbling up in her chest, sitting precariously close to her heart. She comfortable in sliding off her horse, landing softly in the dirt.

He won’t admit it, but he can’t ignore how round her ass is in those tight jeans.

She pats her horse, sliding her rough hands under its harnesses and it’s mane. Reid knows enough about horses to distinguish several muscle groups and bone structures from others. He feels out of his depth. He’s drowning being so close to a dream he can never have. He wonders if he should ask her to stay. Tell her there’s reports. Witness statements. Paperwork. Anything to get her to stay longer, to prolong the closeness to the dream. The closeness to her.

The horse gives a bleated scream as Morgan passes with the handcuffed man, both human males looking equally frightened of the animal. It settles into a role of domestication as the girl lets the horse throw its head into her shoulder begging for pats.

Spencer knows he supposed to follow Morgan, but he can’t move. She’s everything in that moment. And just as he gets the courage to thank her, thank her for stopping the burning, she meets his eyes and drops her jaw.

“Well as I live and breathe!” she shouts. It’s too rough for a squeal, more of a whistle of her words. “Spencer Reid, not even a day’s difference. How in the hell are you?”

Is he breathing? He doesn’t think he’s breathing. She knows him. She knows him. She knows him. And he has no idea who she is. He searches her beautiful face. Running over the ruby lips. Over the pink blushing cheeks. The glittered eyelids and the long eyelashes.

She’s so unfamiliar it hurts.

Morgan stops in his tracks. There’s blood in the water for the first time in ages. The last time these waters were chummed was a bartender who called him exactly once.

And it gets worse. Her face falls. Emily and JJ are rounding the corner. Everything in him sinks to the floor. Every details about himself becomes apparent. He’s gangly and uncoordinated. His hair’s too long and he’s got circles under his eyes darker than the grease stains on her horse. He’s so unperfected and this girl reminds him of the girls in high school he could never have.

He wonders for a moment if she’s from high school. She can’t be though, he thinks as he fights the bile in his throat. She’s younger than me.

“You know boy genius?” Morgan asks, handing the killer off to Emily. He’s strutting. Ever the first impressionist. The girl barely glances at him, still studying Reid with a crestfallen little smile perched on her perfect lips.

“Not really,” she settles on, getting a better grip on the reins she’s holding. Getting a better grip on herself. “We met once. In Vegas. I was 15 and I’ve done my growing up since.”

Reid still hasn’t moved. He’s not sure he can. His feet are putty from the run. Putty from her smile. Just ask for her name, he screams at himself, but he can’t. There’s no guarantees. There’s no ‘of courses’, only ‘what ifs’. The what ifs can consume you and he’s worried he’s going to let them.

Morgan extends his hand in the stretching pause. And she shakes it. All crimson lips and pearly teeth. “I’m Agent Derek Morgan. You obviously know, Dr. Reid.”

Her eyebrows raise for half a second. She’s surprised. And impressed. And Reid’s heart warms for no longer than she answers. “I’m Shawn, Shawn Healy.”

“Shawn? That’s an interesting—“

Everyone pauses at the sound of hoofbeats. Whips around to see another girl, a blonde in even more glitter, ride up on her own horse. Shawn swings back onto her horse and spurs him off, following the other girl. Spencer doesn’t see the flags they’re carrying until it’s too late. Until she’s already apologising for leaving. She’s late.

Spencer wonders if he’ll ever see her again. Black curls bouncing over her shoulders. Stained lips. Sun glinting off every inch of her.

In another eight seconds, she’s gone. Eight seconds to win his heart. Eight seconds to ride off with it.

He gives Penelope some condensed version of the story that she’s hooked on anyway. She’s leaned forward, elbows on knees, perched on every word that leaves his mouth like it’s from God himself. It’s comical, he thinks. Spencer’s never really been invested in anyone else’s drama, not for longer than five minutes.

Penelope’s going to be invested, heels sunk in, holding on for dear life. She’s invested for life.

“So, how’d you get her back?” she asks. Starry eyed. Concerned. This is her white whale and she’ll go down with this ship. “She could’ve been anywhere! How’d you two get together?”

And he knows this part isn’t complicated. And it’ll be enough to tide her over.

The quick answer is that he googled her. Read every newspaper article, column, and paper mentioning her. Shawna Healy had been mentioned more times for winning rodeo competitions than he had papers published. She was accomplished in her culture, in her part of the world. She’d won up to regionals while in college. Even boasted to being the first girl on the UT Dallas Rodeo Team. Currently employed at Montgomery’s Cattle Ranch just outside of DC. The same ranch who was hosting a For-Charity Bull-riding Competition.

Spencer hadn’t known what to do with the information so he sat on it. For a month. Until he couldn’t wait any longer. The competition was that weekend. He had to go.

He just kept repeating to himself, this is for academic purposes. This isn’t stalking. You might not even see her. This is for—

And he stops thinking. There’s no reason to think anything other than: I’m sorely underdressed. He’s sinking to the bottom of the deep end of the pool, lead weights tied to his ankles. Every man, woman, and child here is nothing sort of their earned Country label. There’s boots and buckles and ball caps. There’s dust and dip and drawl.

And he’s in a cardigan. Why was that a good idea? He doesn’t know, but he’s tempted to shrug it off and disappear. To run right back out of gates. To get swallowed by everyone staring at him. Gawking at him. He’s back in high school again and he wants to drink bleach.

He’s almost to the bleachers, past the makeshift bar, just at the corner of the dirt arena. Spencer knows he should just go home, shake it off, and dissolve into wishing the world takes pity on him. He’s too out of his depth. These other people belong. He most definitely does not.

And just as he’s about to turn tail, pussyfoot out of every bit of confidence he’s ever had, when he sees her.

She’s on a different horse. One not quite as beastly as the other. This one’s mellow, waiting on the edge of the arena, while she’s chatting absently with another man on horseback. She looks different. She’s far, but there’s no glitter. No outstanding colours. No glinting under the fluorescents. She’s in a cowboy hat, tipped forward over her loose braids. She’s traded her button down for a flannel, rolled up to the elbows and he finally understands why Penelope said it was such a turn on.

There’s no words as the announcer suddenly comes on and a bull bursts from the chute. It’s one of the most terrifying things he’s ever seen. A tiny man holding onto a two ton absolute beast with one hand—it’s absurd! But he can’t stop watching. Can’t stop being impressed. Waits on bated breath for the man to get bucked off after his nearly eight second run.

He does and Spencer has had falls like that. They aren’t pleasant.

The bull bucks and kicks for another few seconds. Shawn and her friend lazily canter forward, guiding the animal back to the other side of the arena and through a gate. She whistles and the gate closes behind it.

The pair retreat back to their corner and the process starts all over again.

“You look a little lost, honey,” a sweet voice chirps beside him. He startles, head caught up in Shawn and every single perfect What If. This girl reminds him of a movie star he can’t remember the name of. Big blonde curls. Big eyelashes. Big smile. Tiny waist.

She’s amazingly beautiful. Amazing doll like. Amazingly…not his type.

Spencer still nervously smiles and clears his throat. “I kind of am.”

“Cardigan gave it away,” she giggles, turning him towards the edge of the stadium seating, dropping them onto the bottom row seat. “I’m Kaley Montgomery. My brother and my sister are this shift’s pick up riders.” Spencer nods along like he knows what she’s saying. “I tell ‘em I’m here to support them and my daddy—he put this whole thing on you know—but I’m just here to pick up cute cowboys.”

“I’m not a cowboy,” Spencer blurts. Her laugh is slick like the sugar in a Venus fly trap. He tries not to get drawn in, but she’s all encompassing. Bright perfume. Colourful clothes. Soft skin and warm empathy. There’s nothing uninviting about her and he wants to move back.

“No, honey, you aren’t.” Kaley pauses to look him over. Whatever she sees makes her softly grin. “Why are you here anyway?”

There’s no judgement. She’s safe and alluring and exactly the opposite of what makes him nervous at that moment. The confidence surges for a moment and he answers, “I’m actually trying to find this girl I met a while ago.”

“Must be a special lady. What’s her name?”

“Shawn Healy,” Spencer sighs. It’s wistful. It’s longing. It’s half desperate. It’s been a month since he’s seen her. A month since he snuck back to see if he could catch her at the rodeo one more tine.

Kaley snorts. Her lady-like instincts kick back in and she covers it was a giggle. “Honey, you met the right girl. Shawn’s like my sister. Her shift ends in a few rounds, and she’s meeting me here if you just wanna stick around for a second.”

And he does. Kaley keeps him laughing, has him singing the high praises of Rodeo sports by the end. It’s maybe another ten minutes. Ten minutes of calming down, easing into the world. Kaley looks like she has whiplash with all of the questions he’s asking. And she’s a little dazed when he blinks at her sheepishly.

“Told he was smart, didn’t I?” a voice says behind him and Spencer jumps out of his skin. He’s desperate to slip it back on without seeming desperate. Without seeming nervous. But it all melts. Shawn’s in front of him. Shawn’s grinning. Shawn’s even more beautiful without the glitter.

“How did you recognise me?” he blurts. There’s stumbling as he tries to backtrack. Shawn’s eyes are green this close up and she smells like leather and oats and apples. His sentences lose traction as she peels her hat off, and sits down next to him.

There’s nothing soft about her. She’s callused. Rough. Nothing like any other girl he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. Spencer doesn’t need more than ten seconds to know that Shawn’s never worn glitter more than the one time and never will again. To known that Shawn is simple and complicated and every grey area he’s ever wanted to explore.

Shawn’s eyes are still and focused. She follows Kaley as the girl stands and leaves. Returns the gaze to Spencer with a glint he can’t categorise. There’s a pause. Lead up to another eight seconds of life changing to be done.

“You were sitting by yourself at a sorting event at the South Point,” she breathes, brushing a piece of dirt off the hat in her hands. Setting it beside her on the bleacher. She gives him plenty of time to stare. To appreciate her.

There’s plenty of time, Spencer thinks and he keeps her gaze with a nervous grin.

Shawn brushes a hand over the frazzled bits of her hat hair. “I came and sat next to you because you looked so lonely. You were so afraid.”

His brain fires and spits and roars to life. He can remember the strange girl who came to sit by him, a sea of empty spaces around him. He’d just committed his mom. Was just about to leave for MIT. He’d been swimming in a sea of self-hatred when he’d been greeted by braces and pimples and too much dark hair. She’d explained every second of the calf sort, almost unprompted, and sussed out every single one of his questions.

It had been as close as he ever dared get to being a cowboy. A decade later and she was every introduction to this world he’d ever had.

Shawn’s got two seconds left on the clock and she doesn’t disappoint. Her fingers are delicate as she places a precarious hand on his knee. There’s a soft pressure to his patella. Shawn’s touching him and he can’t help the shock.

“I had one of those day long crushes. You were the smartest man I’d ever met.”

And no words are suddenly good enough. He wants to tell her that he’s fallen in love now. That he can’t help it. That all he wants is to listen to her drawl on for the rest of his life. That she’d made that last week in Vegas bearable. That she’d been everything. Still was.

But there’s no good way to articulate that. And maybe she knows that. Maybe Shawn Healy was a profiler in a different life because she lets go of his knee and switches subjects. Leans back against the seat behind her, stretching out into the spot of sun.

“It’s my lunch break,” she announces, her boots drifting closer to touching his chucks. The eyes don’t matter as the bleachers stare. What matters is Shawn’s tricky smile. “Have lunch with me.”

He nods and doesn’t think he could bear to disagree with her. Shawn disappears for a moment long enough that he’s worried she isn’t coming back, but she plops french fries into his lap not a second later than the worry begins to fester. Shawn’s not one to back out of commitments, he learns, and ends up hearing enough bad stories that Spencer isn’t sure how they’re getting along so well.

Because they’re getting along so well. Too well. Like they’ve never stopped talking since she was 15 and he was 18. Three hours is too early to say I love you, but he’s thinking it as she talks through a basket of french fries. As she sneaks them to some tiny kids in even tinier cowboy boots.

He’s thinking it every time she laughs.

He’s thinking it as she shoves his shoulder and demands to know why he doesn’t own a pair of jeans.

He’s thinking it even as she stands and apologises and stuffs her business card in his shirt pocket. “We’ll get you cowboy’d up one of these days, Dr. Reid. Now, don’t you forget to call—I’m late again.”

She runs off and he can’t stop thinking I love you so much as she waves at him over her shoulder and once again when she’s in the arena, back on a new horse.

Penelope is near tears at the end of Spencer’s story. He relaxes into the new world he’s entering. The one, two years later, where he’s wondering exactly how much he can keep to himself. How much Garcia will suss out and how much he’ll tell her himself.

Penelope folds her arms and suddenly frowns. She’s got a bee in her bonnet and Spencer’s afraid of what it means.

“Shawn,” she murmurs to herself. “Spencer Reid is shacking up with a cowgirl. I can’t—I’ll see it when I believe it.”

This is her attempt to get Spencer to show her pictures, or call Shawn, or even bring her around. But he doesn’t. He just smirks. No matter how much he actually can’t work the phone in his hands, he doesn’t want to. Shawn’s worried enough about meeting the team, she doesn’t need one Penelope Garcia tracking her down and tackling her.

“How ever much I love this chat we’re having, I have to get back to work,” Spencer announces. He stands. Walks off before Penelope can ask more questions.

And despite all of her yelling and protests and shouting for him to just come back here and tell me if she’s your girlfriend, Penelope knows she won’t get anything more. She’s determined anyway, and plans to corner JJ later on.

She finds doesn’t have to ask JJ, cornered or not. Because not four hours later, does Penelope find one Dr. Spencer Reid admiring the diamonds on the wedding ring he’s holding up between him and the coffee pot. He’s quick to shove it in his pocket as Penelope enters the little kitchenette. Quick to stir sugar in his coffee like nothing’s happened. Like Penelope definitely didn’t see the ring he’s waiting to give Shawn.

“When did you get the ring?” she asks, quietly opening the box of tea.

“Promise not to think I’m crazy?”

Penelope nods, turning just enough to see just how love stricken the poor boy is. “I’d even pinky promise, my love.”

He smirks and softens and says almost so quietly she doesn’t hear, “It was about two weeks after our first date. It took about eight seconds to find the right one.”

#pls I'm doing my best #i've also got anxiety to the moon and back #spencer reid #oc #criminal minds #dr spencer reid

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linkspooky · 4 years

Text

Toga Himiko’s Normal Life

Himiko looks like the most straight forward case of what pop culutre considers to be a classical sociopath / psychopath in My Hero Acadmia. Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks were all groomed to become the way they were, but Himiko possessed a natural inclination towards blood and violence from the start. She seesm to be a natural born cold blooded killer, however in this meta I’ll argue that while Toga seems like the flip-side of a normal, good person like Uraraka, she’s actually just a normal girl herself.

1. Character Origins

Volume sixteen of My Hero Academia had an official illustration included as an extra that shows the characters Twice and Himiko drawn together in an illusion to a famous Joker and Harley Quinn illustration.

Now, I’m not going so far as to claim Himiko was based off of Harley Quinn, but one the league of villains and characters like Twice (and ReDestro) have made similiar references to the Joker before that especially with the quote “All it takes is one bad day”. There’s also enough similarities betweeen the two characters, they’re both the only female members of a crime syndicate that is mostly men, and dominated by men. Their backstories mirror each other, they were both relatively sane, normal, girls, until suddenly they cracked one day and became a total inversion of their previous presonality. There are enough similarities that I could use Harley as an example to explain a few of the important ideas present in Toga’s character.

They are also both female characters who are written with love as the central concept of their characters. Harley’s origin as originally depicted in the comic and episode for the Batman the Animated Series “Mad Love” goes as follows: Harleen Quinzell was a psychiatrist working at Arkham. Eventualy she came to sympathize with one of her patients which triggered a transformation in her from well meaning doctor, to love-sick sycophant of the joker who broke him out of prison.

A lot of Batman Villains have origins like this. The most comparable one is Harvey Dent. Proescutors, Doctors, we are told the people who hold these jobs are good and righteous people. Even Harley herself started out as someone who just sympathized with a patient too much. However, somehow they become flipped into the exact opposite versions of themselves. They go mad for lack of a better words. Harvey Dent who was once a symbol of justice, becomes nothing more than a murderer, and Harley Quinn goes from healer to the sidekick of a mad clown willing to destroy everything in the name of love.

The question, asked in both Himiko and Harley’s stories is how can good people flip like this?

Most people have a black and white view of these issues: good people are only capable of good actions, and bad people are capable of bad actions. It’s hard to swallow the fact that any normal person has the capacity to cause so much harm inside of them.

We see similiar remarks in the background of Himiko’s story. Himiko comes from a good upper class family, she went to what was most likely a good school, she was always smiling and surrounded by friends. Everyone who comments on her sudden transformation reacts in a similiar way. “She was aways so cheerful and well-behaved, I still find it hard to believe.” She was always such a good girl, and good people don’t do those things.

Normal people, good people, don’t have the capacity to do bad. That’s what makes the transformations so shocking. Therapists/Doctors are supposed to heal, Prosecutors are supposed to be just. And now we return to our old friend Jung.

The story of Harleen Quinzell and Harley Quinn. The story of Himiko Toga the happy middle school girl and Himiko Toga the serial killer is a tale told over and over again, it’s just usually told with male protagonists instead of female ones. It’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (1886) is a late-Victorian variation on ideas first raised in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818). Stevenson’s monster, however, is not artificially created from stitched-together body parts, but rather emerges fully formed from the dark side of the human personality. In the story Dr Jekyll, an admired member of the professional Victorian middle-classes, conducts a series of scientific experiments which unleash from his own psyche the ‘bestial’ and ‘ape-like’ Mr Hyde (ch. 10). Gothic fiction had examined the idea of the sinister alter ego or double before on many occasions but Stevenson’s genius with Jekyll and Hyde was to show the dual nature not only of one man but also of society in general.

“Man is not one, but truly two.”

Robert Louis Stevenson

Both cases are tales are transformation, of the monster coming from within. Himiko transforms from middle school girl into serial killer. Harleen Quinzell transforms into Harley Quinn. Dr. Jekyll becomes Mr. Hyde. We witness a transformation into a monster that seems the antithesis of everything that person was boefre, but was inside of them all along this works because of the jungian idea of the shadow.

The shadow is the unconscious side of personality. The shadow is what exists but what we do not acknowledge. If our behavior during everyday life, choosing to smile, choosing to talk to people, choosing to use our manners is a mask then the shadow is the face beyond the mask. The conscious personality conceals, the shadow reveals. It’s the difference betewen who we are and who we choose to be. The shadow isn’t necessarily negative however. The shadow is just the repressed side of our personalities, it’s what we try to hide.

The shadow plays a role in Harleen’s transformation. While it’s present in Mad Love as well, a recent miniseries ‘Harleen’ really dives into the Jungian symbolism. There’s even several similarities in common with Himiko’s story, for example there’s a scene where Harleen is shown watching the bat man beat up joker and notice how everyone is cheering despite the fact that it’s violent.

Himiko’s interest in a boy is sparked by watching him get into a fight while everybody else is cheering for him.

The cover page depicts the change between Quinn and Quinnzel as a crumbling mask, which is the exact same imagery used for Himiko.

When she enters Arkham she chooses to depict Harley Quinn’s silhouette in Harleen’s shadow. Once again implying that the transformation is not so sudden and jarring as it seems, that Harley Quinn has always been there and is a part of her psychology the same way Mr. Hyde is inside Dr. Jekyll.

The comic even points it out. Harleen, and also by extension Harvey Dent are people who claim to be “good, righteous people’ and yet both of them end up transforming into murderers. Two-face’s name is literally two-face.

There’s also one particularly Jungian sequence in the middle of the conflict. She dreams (dreams are unconscious and therefore the realm of the shadow in Jung’s theories) about the city of gotham as a place inhabited with citizens who are monsters wearing the faces of human beings.

The idea is consistent throughout that Harleen is not really a ‘good person’ she’s merely repressed. She has had this capacity to be violent inside of her, this selfishness, all of these dark desires carried with her all along but rather than deal with them in any healthy way she repressed them until repressing them is no longer an option. Harvey Dent’s face gets half burned off, Harley’s skinn gets bleached by chemicals, the monsterous features inside of them are now worn on their faces and they have to wear their ugliness on the outside rather than the inside. They are now expressing every single thing they have repressed. However, the suggestion in both stories is that these are not special cases, that Gotham is such a repressed society that everyone is repressing the things they don’t like about themselves in that way. Harley fell in mad love sure, but love was just the reason, just the trigger, the truth is those feelings always lurked inside of her and she had no healthy way of dealing with them before that point.

That is the shadow, it’s everything you repress but it never disappears. If you ignore it, it takes on a life of its own. In some cases, like Harley’s you basically become your own shadow. Harley is the flipped upside down version of Harleen Quinzel, now her inner demons are what are expressed on the surface (desperation to be loved, violence, etc.) while her ‘normal’ self is hidden under a mask of insanity. That’s in fact how she ends the comic, Harley qalking around while Harley is trapped on the other side of the mirror because they have basically traded places. Now Mr. Hyde is walking around, while Dr. Jekyll is hidden personality. But it’s important to remember it’s not something like a split personality, Harleen Quinzell and Harley Quinn were always two sides of the same person. Even when she starts expressing her ‘bad’ traits, the good traits don’t go away. They’re just hidden underneath the surface the way the repressed bad traits used to be. Because you’re not good or bad, you’re not one side or the other. You’re both at the same time. Man is not one, but truly two.

So the complexity in Himiko comes from understanding that she’s BOTH a normal girl, and also a blood crazy yandere psycho.

2. A Normal Girl - Uraraka Ochaco

Uraraka is a pretty standard shonen heroine. She’s a cheerful girl. She’s a supportive friend. She’s the embodiment of what you’d call a good, kind, person and doesn’t seem to be any more complex than that. She lacks say the drive to be a hero that Midoriya does, the superiority complex that Bakugo has, the emotional issues that Todoroki has. She seems to always be agreeable and in a cheerful mood.

If you look just a little bit closer though she always seems to be walking on eggshells when she’s around others. She doesn’t want to join Deku and the others to try to save Bakugo from the heroes because, it might hurt Bakugo’s feelings.

When she loses in the hero tournament, she apologizes to her parents crying not because she feels bad that she lost, but she feels like she failed them. Like it was her job to win and bring money home. However, when Deku comes to check on her in the room she’s already completely hidden her tears.

Going into her backstory we learn that Uraraka is walking on eggshells around everybody due to her own parents, that she’s spent her life trying to be as small of a burden on them as possible because she could see the tired looks on their faces. She’s a child who felt guilty that her parents had to take care of her.

So, for Uraraka her entire life is devoted to making herself seem as small and inconsequential as possible. Other people’s needs will always trump hers. Other people will always have more noble motivations for becoming a hero than she has. Other people’s emotions will always be louder and take priority over hers. Uraraka sees her own emotions and needs as mere trifles that get in the way, and so she always shuts them down. We see Uraraka as a version of Himiko, a high school girl who always appears to be cheerful and well-behaved but is merely repressed.

Uraraka repeats the same unhealthy behavior as Himiko once did. Which is why Uraraka’s first meeting with Himiko goes with Himiko getting such a cold read on her.

It’s helpful to view Himiko as the flipped version of Uraraka. Uraraka hides everything that’s pleasant about her on the inside, and on the outside appears like a perfectly selfless girl. Himiko is someone who hides her good qualities and instead wears the mask of a bloodthirsty psycho on the outside. While Uraraka lives by denying her selfish desires, Himiko always chases after them and is true to them.

Traits that are repressed in Uraraka, are expressed in Himiko. Especially traits that society sees as bad in girls, like selfishness, being emotional, etc..

The way Himiko acts is especially jarring because she seems convinced she’s a normal person. She’s in her own little world, making friends, getting along with other people, it’s just her friendship just happens to involve stabbing.

Himiko appears to be a girl psychotically obsessed with blood and nothing else. A girl who only cares about killing other people and chopping them up to bits. When she expresses the feelings deep inside of herself, literally no one can make heads or tails of what she’s saying, she doesn’t sound like a girl just a bloodthirsty monster.

While Uraraka seems like she has nothing in common with what is essentially a weird serial killer, we learn that the exact behavior that Uraraka’s creation is what led to Himiko’s current state of mind.

The difference between them is not that Uraraka is a person of higher moral character, or a better person, but rather of circumstances between the two of them. It’s not the choices they made but rather things they were born into and couldn’t control. Uraraka has parents that accept her even when she fails and encourage her.

Toga had parents that abused their daughter, and then abandoned her.

Uraraka chose to repress herself, while Toga was forced to become repressed by her parents. While we don’t know for sure if it was physical abuse it’s at least emotional abuse, and it had to be to an extreme extent to make Himiko snap that hard. The same unhealthy behavior but push to extremes gets extreme results.

3. Normal Girl - Himiko Toga

Himiko did not become the way she is because she was lacking empathy or born with uncontrollable urges for bloodlust, but because of the environment around her that always forced her to repress herself. From the knowledge that her parents would never love her for who she really was. Himiko wasn’t born that way she was a response of what was done to her.

People who don’t really know Himiko always judge her this way, that she’s incapable of understanding other people, that she has no empathy for others. She’s almost literally labelled and dismissed as a one dimmensional yandere trope by the people surrounding her.

However, Himiko is in fact always doing the opposite. She’s constantly trying to empathize with others. Her maddened way of talking to both Tsuyu and Uraraka in her character introduction is exactly that, her trying to feel that kind of connection.

Himiko’s fascination for Uraraka is a desire for empathy and understanding. One that you could say even surpasses some characters on the hero’s side, because she’s willing to try to understand the world’s of people who are nothing like her. Himiko’s next most significant action in the manga is to take Camie’s place and go after the kids. While she does fight against them she’s not overly violent, just curious. Deku even reaffirms some of Himiko’s primary traits.

Himiko is always talking a lot and trying to explain her way of thinking to other people, because she wants them to understand her. However, because she’s bad at communicating this tends to come off as babble and a lot of people completely dismiss what she says and don’t attempt to listen.

She expresses two things one a desire to know Deku on a deeper level, immediately asking him very personal, and sometimes very downright invasive question and two she also notices the closeness that Deku and Uraraka have for one another.

Once again this is a repeating theme for the league. Himiko repeats the same desire that Twice has, to become a person who is trusted in the same way.

Once again it’s important to remember that Himiko is just the flipped version of a normal girl. If most people hide their bloodlust and show their good sides, Himiko hides her desire to be trusted and to empathize with other people underneath her bloodthirsty urges she shows on the surface. She positions herself as a femme fatalle, but she’s actually just a girl who’s trying to understand why other people are different then her, and why Deku and Uraraka can have a relationship mutually founded on trust when she can’t.

Himiko’s past was so repressed she never formed real relationships with people. Not only that she assumes that nobody will want the real her, because the moment she flipped and the real her was exposed everybody in her life abandoned her and she had to run away.

After her brush with Deku and Uraraka we see Himiko start to be trusted by her comrades and a marked transformation takes place in her.

We see shades of the old Himiko. A selfish girl who only exists to fulfill her whims. However, we’re shown Himiko is capable of empathizing because not only do Shigaraki’s words get through to her.

Himiko is also for the first time able to reach the emotions of another person. Remember when Himiko tries to explain how she’s feeling, she babbles, and babbles and nobody listens. However that changes and for the first time, not only does Himiko pick up exactly on what’s troubling Twice, she also comforts him the way he needs to be comforted. She tells him that yes it might be his fault that Magne died, but she sees that he’s doing his best to make up for it and she gently encourages him.

Remember how important this is for Twice. The world has never forgiven Jin for his mistakes. He hit the wrong guy on accident, while obeying the law, and lost both his job and his home. He started stealing to make ends meet, and as a result he lost his mind. When he makes a mistake it always blows up in his face but this time, Himiko notices that she’s panicking and comforts him telling him it’s okay he’s made this mistake and he can still work hard to fix it.

Not only that but she notices what the problem was with Jin, she was able to notice the symptoms of his psychotic breakdown and rather than dismiss it as just Twice being crazy was able to help him in real tangible ways by wrapping her hanky around him and covering him up like he asked. Uraraka has a very surface level kindness, she’s kind but only by walking around on eggshells with everyone. Himiko is able to see through people, but uses that to comfort people on a deeper level.

The “Himiko just can’t control herself because of her quirk” narrative is something that Himiko rejects herself. Because that’s not what Himiko wants. Himiko doesn’t want to be special or different from other people.

Himiko sees herself as normal, and what she desires to be understand and be understood by other people. She doesn’t like Curious’ narrative for her because it made her out to be a freak or someone special when Himiko is trying her best to get others to understand her as a normal girl. Himiko can’t repress herself anymore, she can’t become normal the way her parents taught her too so not permanently broken, and forced to always express herself she’s trying some other way.

What she wants isn’t to hurt other people, not really though. Those thoughts just turn violence, because Himiko is herself a person who’s endured a lot of violence. Himiko is basically a child that’s been on her own living on the streets and surviving for years, with all the dangers that entails, and also people who can shoot lasers and punch things really hard chasing after her.

The more she’s isolated and on the run, the more violence she endures, the more violent and unhinged her thoughts become. The more she’s exposed to people who accept her for who she is, the more she’s trusted by those people, the more empathic and sensitive Himiko becomes instead. Himiko’s desire isn’t violence, when she’s pushed to her utter limit she says what she wants is to become a girl like Uraraka who is just loved and trusted by others for who she is.

And I genuinely believe at the core of Himiko’s character this empathic girl exists. Himiko becoming violent and unrepressed doesn’t mean her empathy disappears. The complexity from Himiko is that she’s both the knife wielding psycho and the normal girl who just wants to have friends at the same time. If behind every normal person there’s a monster lurking is true then the opposite is true as well, behind every monster there’s a normal person.

This is an idea expressed by Twice again. One of the villains that Hawks dismissed as a bad person, was capable of showing him compassion and gentleness even when he screwed up. Toga was capable of empathy for Twice besides the use he had for others. Toga herself is shown to be capable of more empathy than Hawks, who is one of the most selfless characters in the series, and who is convinced his actions are always done in order to save others.

However we see their treatment of Twice is so drastically different. Hawks treats Twice in a selfish way refusing to listen to what Twice wants, and only ever used Twice as a tool to exploit. Twice himself thinks that now that he’s no longer useful, Himiko won’t be kind to him anymore however we see the opposite.

Twice admits to Toga that he’s the reason that everyone is in danger right now and he completely failed, and he’s not going to come save them. He admits that he’s useless and Twice himself said Toga wouldn’t be kind to him anymore. However in that moment, Himiko ignores the fact that her life is literally in danger and everything is going to hell around her to comfort Twice one final time and tell him the words he needs to hear.

It’s literally the single most empathic moment of the manga, and it’s in direct contrast to Hawks’ behavior. A hero as devoted to saving other people as Hawks, who genuinely likes Twice as a friend doesn’t show him any empathy at all and even stabs him as the back. A psycho like Toga puts her own feelings aside and notices Twice’s feelings, and gives him comfort and thanks him in his final moment because to her Twice has value as a person beyond what his use is. That Himiko is capable of this kindness, but equally capable of her monstrous actions earlier in the series is what makes her human. Her kindness doesn’t make her any less mosntrous, and her monstrous qualities don’t make her kindness go away she’s both at once, rather than either or. That’s where the complexity comes in.

Toga is a very human character precisely because we see her at her most monstrous, and we see that girl slowly relearn how to express the kindness that’s always been inside of her in healthier non-stabby way. A normal girl who learned how to be a monster to protect herself. A monster who is slowly relearning to be a normal girl.

#himiko toga #jin bubaigawara #league of villains #league of villains meta #league of villains friendship #mha meta #my hero academia #my hero academia meta #my hero academia villains

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azbagans · 4 years

Text

Don’t Be Scared, I Love You.

Pairing: Zak Bagans x Reader

Summary: (Made up) Investigating what's now become a museum, the remnants of John Wayne Gacy's home has dragged the crew for a twist. The killer clown and his victims shaking you to your core.

Warnings: Serial Killer investigation, possible demonic mentions, and minor swearing.

DT: @takemepedropascal

tap the 'x' below

You and the Ghost Adventures crew were now in Illinois, your newest investigation already having you guys in for a shock. The name itself was insanely chilling, John Wayne Gacy. Better known as, the killer clown, of course. There was no paranormal investigation history to help because the Ghost Adventures crew were the first to not only be allowed to investigate but to be invited to do so. The interviews were just about wrapped up, and now you guys were just waiting for the lockdown.

A simple hang out in the hotel room with simple take out for dinner, because to be frank it was clear none of you could stomach much. "Considering Gacy had two alter egos, in the afterlife we could be dealing with something far more negative," Jay explained, the crew settled out in the small balcony of the shared hotel room. You hadn't quite touched your food much, something was extremely off about this investigation and it was off settling, especially for you. "What else did you find out today?" Aaron asked, before sipping loudly from his nearly empty drink.

A loud slurping sound following the question as to his straw hit against the ice, none of his drink left to be enjoyed. Normally, either of you would make a comment to joke about it, but none of you had it in you. Instead, you responded. "He admitted to having murdered over 33 men. Many were found in the house actually, few in the backyard and some in the crawl space." You shared. You had been helping Jay investigate his history while the others wrapped up the interviews earlier that day. "A couple bodies found in the Des Plaines River." Jay added as he collected his garbage into the fast-food bag it came in.

"Listen, guys..." Zak finally spoke up with a heavy sigh. He knew his crew quite well, after so much time working alongside each other, it was easy to spot they were all on edge already. "I know this is strange, and honestly a bit off settling...but it's also a huge opportunity for us. However, your safety will always be my priority." Zak continued as he glanced at his team, more so his family, as he spoke. "Seriously don't hesitate to communicate any feelings, thoughts, or concerns. It's okay to be afraid, it is." He reassured everyone.

That was the thing about Zak Bagans, he was human. Sure he made some bold decisions, seemingly fearless, but he was indeed human. He also had a big heart, one not many were lucky enough to see. Fortunately for you, being his girlfriend, you knew him quite well. Honestly, his heart might just be one, if not the, biggest reasons why you fell in love with him. You sent him a small smile as the rest of the crew mumbled some response. "Don't get soft on me man, we'll be fine. We always are." Aaron reassured the lead investigator.

As time passed, you and the others getting ready to leave the hotel, you couldn't help but feel your heart begin to pound even harder in your chest as you walked down the hall to the elevator. "You okay, y/n?" Zak asked far softer, as he walked alongside you. His hand resting on the small of your back as you both followed behind the rest of the crew. "You've been quiet today," he added, concern lacing his voice as he gazed down at you. It was no secret you were together, but you guys hardly showed much PDA when filming.

Just occasional teasing from Aaron, sometimes Billy, and from time to time you and Zak would investigate together. "I'm fine, just a little on edge. I don't know why it's bothering me so much." You admitted quietly, gazing up at your boyfriend, keeping the conversation quiet and intimate. When it came to feelings and emotions, the both of you preferred to keep those conversations private. Your friends didn't need to know everything after all. Zak nodded in understanding, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as you both entered the elevator.

The journey down to the ground floor was filled with some commentary, attempted jokes from Aaron, and Zak gently rubbing the small of your back in reassurance. A gesture you treasured greatly.

From the beginning, your presence was known. Not just yours, but everyone. Even when setting up the X cameras and other equipment, activity was quick to welcome the Ghost Adventures crew into the after-hours of their lockdown. Currently, Jay was in their nerve center, Aaron was doing some EVP work in the backyard, and you, Billy, and Zak were making some advances in Gacy's bedroom. It went without much need to say, you were on high alert and on edge after arriving at the location hours ago.

Zak was asking questions in hopes to communicate further with the spirit in the room using the spirit box, while Billy was using the Ovilus at the same time. "You don't need to stay here anymore, you're free to go. Why are you still here?" Zak questioned, moving his hand as he had been covering the spirit box to cover the white noise while he asked. Seconds later, no voices came through but Billy quickly reacted to the small device at hand.

"Woah, y/n come get this!" Billy exclaimed, as you quickly made your way to him, your camera focusing on the device that reads "stuck." As Billy and Zak raved about the discovery, the Ovilus soon came through with, "Crawl." And then again seconds later, "Space." Which left the three of you in shock. "It just said stuck crawl and space!" Billy exclaimed, the investigators a bit excited at the activity considering the spirit box hadn't brought many results. "Are you stuck in the crawl space?" Zak questioned, recalling the information you and Jay had shared back in the hotel.

In the next few minutes, there were no more responses. All activities having just stopped abruptly. "Y/n, why don't you go and check out the basement? Maybe like around the crawl space?" Zak suggested as Aaron came through on the Walkie Talkie. "Zak, come in." Aaron's voice was heard. "Yeah, Aaron what's up?" Zak responded with the device at hand. "Someone needs to come down here with me man.. it's just... it's different out here bro." Aaron admitted.

"Billy's heading down," Zak responded, making eye contact with both you and then Billy before nodding. "I'll stay here and see if I can get some more contact." He clarified. You both nodded and soon you and Billy were heading down the steps, before parting ways to your different destinations. "Good luck," you bidded, Billy doing the same before heading out. You sighed deeply, making your way into the basement with your heart pounding loudly within your chest. Your hand visibly shaking in your camera footage as you managed your way in the dark.

"Hey y/n, you good?" Jay asked, coming in through your walkie talkie, scaring you half to death. "Shit Jay.. not anymore.." you exclaimed as you made it into the basement, taking a moment to compose yourself as best as possible. "I'm good.." you responded before getting your walkie put away, hearing a faint "help.. me..." From the corner of the room, "I'm in the basement, and I swear I just heard someone say 'help me'... I'm completely alone." You explained to the camera to document the discovery, but also to make sure you weren't losing your mind.

Now was a good time to call for Zak or anyone, but you were too stubborn. You had barely gotten down there anyway, you could manage. As you moved closer to the area in which the voice came from, you realized the small crawl space started from that corner. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you pushed past your fear and got down, close to the floor. "Is anyone here with me?" You called out anxiously, your camera pointing into the crawl space, the X camera had you insight which was helpful for Jay back at nerve.

Another faint "...help." was enough to encourage you, no... enough to draw you in. You began to crawl into the small tunnel-like enclosure with your camera, you hadn't meant to crawl in so deep but something was just dragging you closer until you came to a stop, your heart racing as you realized how far under you had gotten. "W-Who are you?" You asked, on high alert as you heard faint rustling around you. Unexplainable movement, as you were clearly alone. Before you could ask another question, your Ovilus came through with "demon." And "hide." Which made you immediately panic as you heard a growl right at your ear, leading you to scream in panic.

You tried to rush out of there, but the tight space only slowed you as you felt a grip at your ankle. "Zak- Zak come in, come in!" Jay nearly shouted into the walkie talkie after your scream came through the audio of the X Camera, but also throughout the house, which had put Zak on edge. "What is it Jay?" Zak responded to the device at hand. "Y-Y/n, she entered the crawl space and I just heard her scream, get down there now!" He reported, concern clear as day in his voice, as he got through to Aaron and Billy too.

Zak felt his heart drop down to his stomach as he heard Jay's response. Dropping whatever he had been doing and rushing down the stairs with his flashlight at hand, nearly tripping down the steps as he made it down another flight of stairs into the basement. He heard your cries from the corner of the room. Zak knew you well, you weren't the type to get frightened so easily, much less react in this way, which only made his worry grow as he kneeled at the opening of the crawlspace. Shining his light as he called out for you, "Y/n! Y/n I'm right here, reach for my hand okay? I'm getting you out of there." Zak did his best to stay calm for you, despite his panicked mindset.

No matter how much you pushed yourself to get out, you always seemed even farther from the exit. You tried to focus on Zak's voice and not the constant growling, as you pushed your free hand out in hopes to find his hand. Once you felt his hand grabbing yours, he helped pull you out, and securely tucked you into his arms once you were out of the crawlspace. Billy and Aaron helped you both up to your feet once they rushed in, and Zak helped you out the house. His arms protectively wrapped around you as he kissed your head, forgetting all about the show, the investigation, the cameras, as he was focused on you and your well being.

"I'm right here, y/n... You're okay now," he reassured you, the lead investigator couldn't help but feel guilty after having assigned you down there. You were both outside and near the car, as quiet sobs left your lips. You couldn't shake the feeling of intense fear, no matter how hard you tried. "Y/n, sweetheart.. breathe.. shh, breathe." Zak tried to calm you, as his hands gently cupped your face, making you meet his gaze. His thumbs gently wiping your tears away as your breathing began to slow.

Quiet sniffles being heard as he finally brought you into his embrace, kissing your head softly. "Don't be scared, I love you." He whispered to you softly, as he held you close and securely. "I love you," he repeated quietly, hoping the power of those three words could in some way help ease you.

They did.

He had said something so perfect, despite the horrifying scare.

He calmed you with six words and one kiss.

"Don't be scared, I love you."

#zak bagans x reader #zak bagans #ghost adventures #jay wasley #billy tolley #aaron goodwin #zakbagans #x reader #fanfic #oneshot #quick read #relationship

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