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multifandomfanatic02 · 2 months

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"My Little Partner in Crime."

pairing : father!Alastor x daughter!reader

synopsis : you spent nearly 80 years by your father's side without him knowing who you truly were. Don't you think it's about time you told him the truth? Would he despise you?

warnings : weep bitches.

word count : 3,106

It had been 76 years since she had passed. Yet she remained in the body of a 15 year old girl. In hell, of course no one aged. Not many child sinners were often found in Hell but she was special. While she wasn't an overlord, she was a brilliant mind behind one.

In life, [Y/N] felt she had been misplaced in the world. So many terrible things had happened at such a young age. She got by though. Through learned methods and maybe a little bit of her genes had helped too.

She was orphaned at the age of 10 years old. Father died before she was born and mama fell severely ill when she was 10. It was an unfortunate circumstance for such a young child to be in, however it only got worse from there. After both parents had died, she ended up in a very poor fostering system. In which none of the children were treated right. It was so much worse for her.

[Y/N] was the daughter of an infamous serial killer in Louisiana. Which did not look good to potential foster parents. If her father was a fucking psychopath, what would she be like? In a way, they weren't far off in their speculations. And they proved to be right later on.

Her mother didn't find out about the love of her life's deeds until he was pronounced dead one eventful night. Gunshot to the head in the midst of burying his own victim. Regardless of what was said about the man, she still loved him all the years after before falling to her own demise. It wasn't like he was a crazed monster, in fact, he likely saved more people than he killed. He only went after the worst of the worst.

It was obvious that the man loved his wife more than life itself. More than his job. It saddened her knowing that he would never get to meet his daughter. Children were never planned or even talked about between the two considering sex was kind of a sensitive topic for the both of them and for different reasons. So the one time they decided to 'experiment' she ended up conceiving. Funny enough, 6 weeks later was when he died. Neither parents had knowledge of [Y/N] presence yet.

[Y/N] was scorned throughout the entirety of her foster community. Not for anything she did, no no. But for something her father did. No one wanted her. Regardless, she was happy that she was on her own in a way. Her 4 years in foster care were quite peaceful.

It wasn't until she was 14 that she had been finally picked out of the system. An old man, maybe in his fifties, had come to get her. The fostering system, not wanting her to continue her stay any longer, kept their dealings with him under wraps so everything stayed out of legal documents. [Y/N] wasn't adopted, no, she was to become his wife and to bear several of his children. Figures. What else would a man like him want in a child. Women were still known as the caretakers at the time. Nobody in this day and age was evolved like her father whom treated her mother like a queen when they were alive.

Thankfully it never got too bad before she decided to take her fate into her own hands. She was an avid reader. Her favorite things to read were the medical books found in her room when she was in the system. So she eventually learned a thing or two. It started off with a crushed pill in his drink every morning to stave off his libido. So he was never in the mood to touch her. (Don't ask where she gets the medication, it's a secret.)

Wearing him down slowly every day and night for the next year before his untimely death. An insulin overdose. It'd be like he died in his sleep. During an autopsy, no one would even know. She grinned ear to ear, feeling the man's pulse disappear from his neck. She took a breath before calling 911 in a faked panic tone. Convincing actually. "Hello? I n-need help. My husband isn't b-breathing, I think he may be dead. Please come save him! He can't die! I love him!" She managed to force tears from her eyes.

Ultimately, he did indeed pass away and she was finally on her own. I guess it wasn't a totally bad set up since his property, belongings, and money went to [Y/N]. It was short lived, unfortunately. All that money that went to ballrooms and jazz music. It was paradise and worth every penny she thought. Only to die at the age of 15 from an infected fox bite. (Random, right? Just like dad's lol)

[Y/N] had been in Hell for 76 years. She wasn't well known unlike her companion. Sticking to the man like glue after all this time. She worked well with the Radio Demon. Their minds complemented each other very well. Almost to a point of familiarity. When she first arrived in Hell, it was like she had made a big boom in the talk of the town. She was a mastermind and very talented at killing and pranks. It sparked a lot of the overlords' interest, especially since she wasn't interested in becoming an overlord herself. All she wanted was to enjoy her dark and very humorous afterlife. [Y/N] of course declined all their business proposals, even the famous Vox.

There was one she couldn't turn away from. He was charming and the two immediately had an unbreakable connection. The connection itself was unreadable but it was there nonetheless. He made a deal with her, promising absolute protection from the exterminators and other overlords and in turn she would help with his dealings. It was a fair trade, the Radio Demon was a bit impulsive with his actions while [Y/N] methodically planned all her own dealings 30 steps ahead. And with her being 15, well, she was thought to be an easy target.

It was actually strange, they look alike too. The same color scheme, same nose and eyes. Both shared that constant shit-eating grin and composure. The only difference between them being that he's an elk demon while she, a fox demon. It was literally just the tail, antlers, and hairstyle that set them apart.

Overtime, the radio demon, opened up to her piece by piece. Alastor, that was his name. It didn't take to long for her to come to the realization that he was in fact her beloved father that her mom talked about oh so much. It was clear. It wasn't just their appearance but mannerisms that were so similar. Her name being the same as his mothers surely didn't help either. He thought nothing of it. Alastor didn't know, he was too oblivious to anything that wasn't himself. And up to now, it never felt like the right time to tell him, so it's been a secret.

Turns out she wasn't the only one to have this realization. Carmilla Carmine along with many other overlords figured it out before even she. Carmilla being a mother herself felt empathy for her and talked to her whenever she needed it. Rosie found a deep love for [Y/N] herself, acting as a mother figure as well. The little darling was just like her bestie, Alastor, how could she not? Other overlords weren't as reasonable and often threatened to use the knowledge as a weapon against her. What would Alastor think? Did he ever want a child? Would he stray away from her if he found out? Often enough, the overlords who threatened her ended up without their lives by her hands by the end of the day.

Seventy-six years, Alastor had kept [Y/N] by his side every step he took. It wasn't until his powerful fight with Vox that he decided to step away. He disappeared for 7 years without notice. It broke her heart into a million pieces but just like before in life, she marched on and kept her promise to him.

It wasn't until news arrived in Pentagon city about this Hazbin Hotel that she'd heard Alastor's name after so long. He was working as the host of the hotel. It wasn't often [Y/N] showed emotion but this time she couldn't hold it in, tears streamed down her face. Her sturdy smile began to slowly break apart. It seemed her father was her weakness. While he didn't want to admit it, it was mutual. He left without saying a word to avoid seeing her disappointment in those little eyes of hers. He didn't want her see him so weak. In a way, he subconsciously felt he had some kind of responsibility over her.

The walk to the hotel was nerve-wracking for [Y/N]. Seeing him after all this time felt bittersweet. She was excited of course but she was awfully upset about his random disappearance.

Knock, knock, knock

The Princess of Hell had opened the door, to her surprise to see a red and black fox demon with a huge smile on her face. Charlie was suddenly having a flash of deja vu. Where else has she seen this before? In any case, it wasn't the most obvious thing to pop out at her. This girl was a child. There shouldn't be a child in Hell, whose cruel idea was it to send her down here Charlie thought.

"Princess Charlotte, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is [Y/N]." She bent down pulling her dress between her fingers to greet her.

"Just call me Charlie! It's nice to meet you too! Are you here to stay in the hotel? If so we would love to have you here with us. Especially someone as cute as you." Charlie reached out to pinch the young demon's cheeks before composing herself.

"I actually am, among other things. I was hoping I could be of service to you." Charlie sat questioning her proposal for a second.

"I'll gladly accept any help I can get but love, you are a child, don't you want to focus on going to heaven and get out of this place?" Charlie bent down to her level and took the girl's hands in her own.

"Don't let her age fool you, my dear. She is a very capable demon. In fact, better than most overlords I know." The familiar radio static voice tickled [Y/N] ears as Alastor materialized behind Charlie. He smiled genuinely as he held out his arms, waiting for her embrace. Tears suddenly streamed down as she ran into his arms. The two holding onto each other as if one of them would disappear forever.

"I apologize for my sudden departure, darling. I hope you know that I would never leave you willingly. It was the only way I could keep my side of the deal." He stroked her hair in attempt to calm her sobbing. She couldn't say anything, she had already forgiven him a while back. Alastor couldn't do anything to make her hate him.

"Alastor aren't you going to introduce us? Who's this sweet thing?" Angel dust walked to the doors to join him and Charlie. The rest of the sinners in the lobby following suit.

"I guess you could say she is my partner in crime. This little darling has been by my side for nearly 80 years. I owe a lot of my victories to her truth be told." Everyone stood around confused, expecting a different answer. There's absolutely no way she could JUST be his partner they look too much ali-

"Al, is that.. is that all she is?" [Y/N] sent vaggie daggering eyes as a warning not to continue her statement. Getting the hint, Vaggie backed off and went to sit on the couch in the center of the room. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."

"Hey [Y/N], it's been a few months. How you holding up. Still getting into trouble I hear." Husk gives the fox demon some pats on the head.

"It's nice to see you again Husker, I would like to thank you for looking out for me these past few years." Her grin grew looking up at the fluffy demon.

"Just doing what the boss told me." Alastor often had souls he was contracted with look after her in his absence. There wasn't much he could do, but knowing she was safe and sound and thriving eased his cold heart. It wasn't often he found himself tied to someone. But there he was, worried for the safety of someone else. A child no less. It took a while to understand his feelings but he eventually did accept it. He cared about someone other than himself.

Introductions to the residents went smoothly, all of them having such lively personalities she thought. What an amazing new family to have. Besides missing Mama, this was much better than what she had in life ironic as it is.

The times were changing and everything felt still, peaceful. [Y/N] had an amazing new family and business. Angel Dust being like an amazing big brother and Charlie like an amazing older sister. However the biggest change was how close she got to Alastor. He insisted her bedroom be near his radio tower so he could watch over her. It was so out of character for the residents that have only known him since he joined the hotel staff.

She was back to being glued to his hip. Her charm helping to gain more residents with her adorableness. It brought on a whole lot of business deals for the feared radio demon as well. Everything was perfect. Something still weighed on [Y/N]'s heart. Alastor needed to know the truth. Why the two of them have such a strong connection. And why they can't seem to ever let each other go. It's not something easily brought up in conversation. Thankfully, luck was on her side one day during one of their business outings.

"So.. do we have a deal?" Alastor held his hand out to damaged overlord. The enemy's eyes flickered over to the fox demon, causing a distraction. Long enough for his partner to sneak a gun to the young girl's temple. Her composure stabled, a smile creeping on her face.

"Before I agree to this deal, you are going to hear me out. Or my partner here will end the little girl's life. And you'll be pickingup brain matter off the ground." Alastor's eye twitched, returning his hands to the top of his cane. His expression eased back into his typical smile, seeing her unfazed by the imminent threat.

"Fine. What do you want?" The man smiled seeing Alastor accept his conditions.

"[Y/N]. I want the girl." The Radio Demon's breath hitched in his throat upon hearing the request. Never. Never in a million years, he thought. "You see that BITCH had me killed. Secretly drugging me for a year. Didn't think I would have noticed, huh? She never payed for it, she never had to answerfor her crime. Got her out of that shithole of a foster care and this is what I get?"

He forcibly grabbed the collar of her prim and proper dress, picking her up to his face. Her ears folded to the back of her head, scowling at the man now. "You were going to make me a child bride."

"You are a woman. You do what I say. If you don't accept my proposal, I'll tell daddy here your little secret. Won't he be surprised." Her eyes turned red at his words, both her and Alastor, in his demon form, shoving an arm through the man's chest in unison. All he felt in that moment was fear, dying for a second time.

It took a second for the man's words to process in Alastor's head. Secret? What secret? He didn't want to pry but it was obviously tearing [Y/N] up inside. Her expression said it all. All he wanted was to know she was okay. It was time to let him know. And whatever decision he made, she was going to be okay with.

"There's something I need to tell you."

"Darling, you don't have to tell me anything if you are not comfortable. That fuck was just trying to get under your skin." And it worked.

"No. You need to know." [Y/N]'s lip began to quiver in fear. Scared she was suddenly going to be a disappointment. How could she keep this a secret for so long. He had the right to know. Now. "My name is [first name] [Shared last name]. I.. I am your daughter."

The gears in his head turned as he tried to process the new information. When something suddenly clicked in his head. The love of his life just before he died, was constantly sick and had been for a few weeks. Alastor had just thought she had a cold and constantly doted on her, trying to provide the best medicine he could.. hm.. find. She never took it thankfully. She was pregnant.

He hadn't thought about it before now but it has come to his attention that the reason why he cared for this child so much was because she reminded him of his wife. She was careful with every decision, she was always calm in every situation she's been in, and they both had that beautiful fire in their eyes. The fire that let everyone know that they weren't going to submit to nobody. The dynamic between him and his wife wasn't much different from the dynamic between him and his daughter.

Why hadn't Alastor seen it before. [Y/N] was obviously named after his mother. The girl was literally his mini me. He couldn't help but let a tear or two drop from his eyes before bending his knees to look at her at her level.

"Tell me... what uh. What happened to your mother?" Alastor held the girl's cheek in his hand caressing it gently and wiping away her own tears, slightly smearing the blood on his hand.

"Mama died of the influenza virus when I was 10. I'm sure she's in Heaven, having the time of her life." Alastor pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, never wanting to let go.

"After all this time, I've had a precious piece of her with me. And I won't ever leave you alone again."

A/N: Yall let me know if you liked this concept, this was fun to do. I know it's kind of out of character for Alastor but I hope it healed something in y'all with daddy issues 🙏

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mouschiwrites · 6 months

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Creepypasta/MH - Going To Sleep With Them

Characters: Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Clockwork, Jane the Killer, Brian/Hoody, Tim/Masky

Eyeless Jack

He goes to sleep pretty early; he’s in bed no later than 8 PM

But he gets up in the middle of the night for… feeding purposes

He tries to be discreet, keeping a close eye on your sleeping form as he slips out of the sheets and out the window

He won’t kiss you goodbye, he really doesn’t want to disturb you

But he’ll gaze longingly at you right before he drops from the windowsill to the ground

When he comes back, he makes sure to wash up thoroughly before getting back in bed

If you don’t wake up at the sound of the shower running, you will when he crawls in next to you

He smells nice and clean, completely void of the irony tinge of blood

If he’s upset he won’t touch you, he’ll just curl up on the far edge of the bed, trying to make himself small and unnoticeable

He’ll squirm away from your touch if you try to comfort him

He just needs to feel alone for a while

But if he’s not upset, he’ll curl around you

He clings to you like a koala, pressing his cheek against you

He’s not very warm, but his skin is soft from showering

Plus, as mentioned earlier, he smells nice :)

Once settled, he won’t move until morning

Jeff the Killer

He has no sleep schedule

When he’s tired he’ll conk out on the bed, barely bothering to change clothes

He’ll take off his hoodie and maybe his jeans, but that’s about it

If you happen to be in bed at the same time, he’ll cuddle up to you

You better hope that he’s showered recently, because he doesn’t see sleeping as an “occasion” to shower for

He likes to have your head on his chest with his arm around you

The pressure comforts him

Plus it allows him to sprawl out a little, which he likes a lot

He isn’t the type to curl up when he sleeps, he goes full starfish if space allows

He also moves in his sleep

You might wake up to him smacking or kicking you, or even shoving you to the edge of the bed

It’s unintentional, but if you mention it to him he thinks it’s hilarious

He will get upset if you actually try to sleep somewhere else, though

Even if you’re not touching, knowing that you’re near helps Jeff feel peaceful while he sleeps

Fortunately he’s not a blanket hog, so at least you have the blanket to yourself

He can sleep blanketless even in the dead of winter

He might crawl under the covers at first, but he manages to wiggle out of them by the time he wakes up

Nina the Killer

She goes to bed whenever you do

But if she’s really tired, she goes to bed by herself, telling you that she’ll be waiting whenever you’re ready to join her

She loves to cuddle

She doesn’t care what position, she loves them all

Her favorites are the ones where she gets to wrap her arms around you though

Kind of like Jeff, she does move a lot in her sleep

But instead of pushing you away, she tries to get closer

She still might end up hitting you, but it’s in an attempt to hold you

If you mention it to her she’ll laugh, but she actually feels pretty bad

She’ll sadly say she understands if you want to sleep somewhere else :(

She has so many pairs of cute PJs and old T-shirts to sleep in

She usually tries to get ready before bed, but if she’s not in the mood she’ll just conk out in her clothes

At least she’s not stinky like Jeff though, she actually wears deodorant and sometimes perfume

You might wake up with makeup smeared on you/the pillows

Clockwork

She generally tries to go to bed around a set time, but if she’s busy she’ll stay up

You can’t coax her to bed if she’s busy, but she’ll gladly come if she’s not

She’s pretty chill when it comes to cuddling

She will if you want to, but she’s fine if you don’t

Unless she's had a nightmare, then she does prefer to cuddle

Or if she's not in the mood, then she'll flat-out refuse

She likes to be the big spoon when you do cuddle

She's pretty warm, which is always nice in the colder months

She's eerily still when she sleeps

It's almost like she dies for a few hours

Unfortunately that means that if you need to get up and you're cuddling, you are trapped

You'll have to wake her up if you want out

She'll just grunt and turn to the other side of the bed, then proceed with her stone-still slumber

Which means you won't be cuddling anymore when you get back :(

She always changes her clothes before she goes to sleep

Even if it's just a T-shirt, she makes an effort to sleep in different clothes than the ones she wore during the day

Jane the Killer

You can tell she's getting ready to go to bed when you hear her showering

She's a night shower person, and she always showers before she goes to bed

She'll change into nice PJs and climb into bed, smelling clean and feeling soft

Unless she has... plans... for the evening, she sticks to a specific bedtime

She likes to have you in bed with her, but she won't force you to adhere to her schedule

She isn't a huge fan of cuddling, she prefers to just know you're there

She might reach out and rest her hand on you during the night, just to reassure herself

She won't object if you decide to hold her hand

If she's out for the evening, she looks forward to coming home to you

She doesn't like to sleep during the day, so she'll just take however much time is left in the night to sleep in bed with you :)

Her favorite thing ever is to climb under the covers and see/hear you sleepily acknowledge her before drifting back off

It makes her feel seen and loved

Also, she always kisses your hand before she goes to sleep

No matter how tired or upset she is, she never forgets

Brian/Hoody

He doesn't go to bed until very late at night

You're usually in bed before he is

But that's the way he likes it; he loves knowing that you're waiting for him whenever he's ready to sleep

He'll slip under the covers silently, wrapping himself around you and allowing your bodies to melt against each other

If you wake up while he does this, he'll apologize and kiss your cheek before telling you to go back to sleep

He usually changes into different clothes to sleep, but sometimes he forgets

You can always tell when he forgets; his clothes reek vaguely of earth and sweat

He doesn't move a whole lot in his sleep, but when he does move he'll try to keep physical contact with you

Sometimes he'll literally heave you over him so that you're on his other side and he can keep cuddling you

He's a pretty lonely guy, and he sees sleep as his solace

Having you to hold makes him feel like he's not really alone

If he wakes up in the middle of the night and you're gone, he'll get up and find you

Once he finds you he just waits, rubbing his eyes and yawning until you go back to bed

Tim/Masky

He does not sleep often

Or well

Sleeping next to him is both nice and a nuisance

For one, he tosses and turns constantly, and when he finally drifts off, he usually wakes with a start not even two hours later

He gets nightmares almost every night, which makes him anxious to fall asleep

You'll probably end up getting only a little more sleep than him

On the other hand, he does like to hold you

It calms his nerves when you're in his arms, so he'll hold you against him while he tries to get some rest

Sometimes he doesn't even try to sleep, he just stares into the darkness with you in his arms

He presses a kiss on the top of your head when his anxieties start to get to be too much

It's honestly more refreshing than sleep for him

But if he falls asleep while holding you, be prepared to be jumpscared when he suddenly sits up with a gasp

He'll apologize, but it won't sound all that sincere

He's more occupied trying to calm himself down

He doesn't bother to shower at night because he wakes up in a cold sweat too frequently, so he prefers to shower in the morning

He tries to change clothes before bed so that he doesn't smell too bad though

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) take care my sweethearts <33

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retroellie · 2 months

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Dating Spencer Reid

Summary: What dating spencer Reid is like

A/N: I wrote this super-fast because I know I haven't really been active... so I wanted to write something quick for y'all! I miss y'all and I hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: Some NSFW moments

Word count: 1.5K

-Spencer grew up on Victorian romance novels and old valentines' poems, so he was quite the hopeless romantic

-When Spencer wasn't solving theories and getting PHDs, he was dreaming of a beautiful romance. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that he isn't the most confident boyfriend, but he makes up for it in his own way!

-Y'alls first date was something straight out of a movie! I mean it was a bouquet of flowers, an expensive dinner followed by a movie theater that played only old 50's films.

-It was the kind of date that had you falling in love with him first thing, knowing that this boy was the person you see yourself coming home to every night.

-After the date, Spencer offered you his jacket and walked you home. It was a chilly night, the streets lit up from the moonlight. He rambled on and on about the movie, but you couldn't even focus on what he was saying because you were too distracted by him.

-What you fell more in love with was the fact he didn't expect you to even kiss him!

-He was more than okay to say your "goodbyes" and "see you later" than leave.... but you gave him a soft peck before heading into your apartment. Even throughout the darkness you could see his blush.

-Anyways, that date led to a beautiful love story between y'all

-Spencer was a romantic even in the littlest of ways, like sending flowers to your work randomly or leaving you small poems in your fridge before he leaves so it feels as though he never really leaves.

-Spencer would always make sure to call you every night when he was away for work... I mean EVERY night.

-"Spencer honey it's 3am here..."

-"I know! But I just wanted to call you, should I call back in the morning?"

-"No, I'm already up and well I miss hearing your voice anyways." You laughed softly.

-The start of your relationship was so innocent, there was no sex or jealousy... it was just so simple and romantic

-There was lots of making out though, something that surprisingly Spencer was the one to initiate every time.

-There were just lots of times when you two would be discussing a book that Spencer probably recommended to you, then all of a sudden, his tongue would be down your throat.

-He was getting used to hugs and the touching, but kissing was something that felt so natural when he did it with you.

-Speaking of books! He had a list of books he recommended to you, like books that you never thought you'd read but you're glad you did yk?

-You would finish a book in one sitting and call him immediately to talk about it

-In turn though, you would bring him into the modern era and show him newer movies and music. Most of the stuff he did not like, but he pretended to like it to be nice.

-The first couple of months of your relationship, the team had no idea you existed. They started to notice spencer being in a lot better mood, but nothing too alarming.

-However, Derek Morgan is a lady killer... so he caught on a lot faster than the others.

-Like one time, the whole team was going out for drinks and Spencer said he had plans... Derek caught him in a lie real fast

-"So, who's the lucky lady?"

-"What?"

-"Pretty boy...I don't need to be a profiler to figure out why your suddenly so "busy.""

-Because of Morgan prying, Spencer decided to invite you out with the team one night.

-The team was all pretty nice, but very confused on why someone like you would want someone like spencer?? You two were completely different from each other... like night and day damn near

-Besides your differences, the team fell in love with you probably harder than Spencer did. I mean Penelope basically adopted you by the end of the night... she did however do her background checking before meeting you, but we don't gotta talk about that.

-The meeting of the team made the relationship real, like now you had become a part of their small family, and they trusted you enough to take care of spencer

-Spencer also felt this was a huge step, like now that his family accepted you, he was going to spend the rest of his life with you

-Spencer would always bring you up when he got the chance now, putting a framed picture of you and him on his desk just so people would ask about you.

-"Oh, who's this?" Someone would ask.

-"That's my girlfriend, Y/N. We've been dating for 11 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. She's a (profession) and she smells like lavender."

-Like girl, all they asked was who you were... not every detail of your existence.

-But now that you guys are now officially dating, and everyone knows it... there's some newfound jealousy

-Spencer knew that you were attractive, but sometimes he forgets that you are also attractive to others as well

-Sometimes when you come into the FBI office, he sees other men staring you down... probably wondering how a nerdy boy like him could get someone like you.

-Spencer getting jealous is quiet and polite. He doesn't get angry or upset, we all know he does not do good with emotions. So, he'll just keep his distance from you, accepting the fact that you could leave him at any moment and not wanting to feel the effects of it.

-He will go silent for days if you didn't ask him about it, not even sure what he was feeling but knew he didn't like it.

-"Just didn't like how he was looking at you... made me feel weird."

-"You're jealous?"

-"I guess... I don't know."

-You just laughed it off, telling him how you would never choose anyone over him even if there was a gun to your head.

-Spencer also remembers everything about everything so... he picks up on your favorite things and your little quirks, plus he never forgets an anniversary!

-Derek bullies the shit out of him, like omfg

-he'll always call you his mommy and make kissing sounds when you call him, loud enough for the entire office to hear.

-"Muah muah muah... Oh Y/N!!" Derek yells, making sure you heard him.

-"So let me guess... Dereks with you?"

-"How'd you know?"

-He actually doesn't use too many pet names, but you definitely do lmao. His name is literally "Spenice poo <3" on your phone.

-Eventually, Spencer asks you to move in with him and omfg!!! You are so excited, like jumping up and down excitedly.

-I feel like spencer would be so domestic too omfg

-He would play music while cleaning the house, but it would all be like Mozart and classical music. You would always grab him by the waist and start dancing with him, you both looked so stupid but at least it was together.

-He would ramble to you all the time and you were probably the only person in the world that would let him, honestly you enjoyed it too.

-Like you had just gotten out of the shower, Spencer barged in and started talking about a case. He sat on the toilet seat while you did your skin care, just rambling on and on about how sick this person was.

-Yours and Spencer's different aesthetics clashed a lot in the house, like Spencer's apartment was slowly being taken over by you and your stuff... but he didn't mind.

-Since you guys have decided to take your relationship to another big step... Spencer decided he wanted you to pop his cherry.

-Spencer wasn't too experienced and he's never really had sex before. He's done stuff with someone, but never the actual act of it.

-He wanted to do it way before, but he thought it would complicate everything and honestly, he wasn't completely ready for it yet.

-You made sure it was the perfect night, you had it planned out. You took him on a picnic, watching the sunset as you loosened him up a little bit, making sure he was comfortable before setting yourself down on his lap.

-You were so soft with him; I mean you were afraid you might break him. He had to beg for you at one point because you weren't going fast enough.

-The next morning, he had to go into work, something about him was different... his confidence boosted a bit. Derek could sense it from a mile away, making sure Spencer knew that he knew.

-The popping of his cherry had created something inside spencer, he found his favorite thing to do, and he wanted it at all times

-You obviously were glad to give him whatever his little heart desired, so you let him fuck you anytime he wanted. Sometimes it even got a little filthy... something you would have never guessed about spencer.

-My bad I got sidetracked... but spencer was also way touchier with you

-Spencer was never really touchy in public, but now it's all he ever did. If you were in the room with him, then his attention would be completely on you.

-He really just felt so safe with you, knowing that you gave him not only your body but also your mind... he just wanted you, period.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds fandom #spence reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

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chaedomi · 10 months

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THEIR DELICATE FLOWER

SUMMARY . flowers come in assorted colors and produce sweet nectar. as a result, flowers attract various kinds of butterflies, even the so-called deadly ones. pt. 2

CHARACTERS . THE BLACK AGRICHE (minus Fontaine)

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, violence, death, unhealthy relationships, everyone somehow finding a way to terrorize reader, the agriche family as a whole (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 5.8k+ / MASTERLIST.

YOUR MOTHER was already a laughing stock and a huge disgrace to The Black Agriche. Due to this, she was confined to her room, away from the disgusted eyes that followed her form with every step she took. Her reputation further decreased when word spread in the household that she gave birth to a baby girl… a sickly one at that. Was she trying to ruin the image The Black Agriche carefully built for years!?

When LANTE found out, he was beyond livid. The disdain he held for your mother was very evident as the slightest hint of her has him in a sour mood and heads rolling. Still, he gave her a chance to redeem herself; birth a worthy child was all he commanded. However, the ending result only proved that she was indeed a useless woman.

Nobody could have stopped him from what he did next, not even the wails and desperate pleas of his other wife that knelt helplessly on the ground. Unleashing his bloodlust, your mother was brutally killed. The only ones spared were his other wife and you, as he deemed it foolish to judge you as a newborn. Perhaps your state was only temporary and as you grew older, you would impress him.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Although you weren’t sick, you grew to be a rather fragile individual. The littlest pressure has you crumpling in pain, wheezing breathlessly. A disappointment, really. Nevertheless, he kept giving you another chance to prove yourself. When you fail, he gives another and another, and another, and another-

It was then he realized how lenient he has been with you out of all people. Why he hasn’t diced you into a pile of meat as he claimed each time was beyond him. Every time you made a fault, he found himself scrambling for a reason to excuse your deplorable actions. It was unlikely of him and bothered him to a large extent.

Having enough of the confusing emotions you struck within him, an order was sent out, requesting your presence. Understandably, you were petrified as it was not common for the Head of The Agriche Family to express interest in seeing anyone out of the blue. And with an amused smirk, he watched as you nervously eat the desserts brought by the servants before dismissing you from his private room.

He continued doing this, either inviting you to the room or seeking you outside, the extreme feelings he experienced deepening with every interaction he held with you. Eventually, it escalated to a point where he didn’t want you to leave his side. He soon concluded that he will never understand what aspect of yours drew this uncharacteristic side out of him. And oddly enough… he was at peace with it. Maybe your mother was capable of doing good. Hmm…

Effortlessly, the killer of your mother lifted you from your seat. A touch meant to be comforting caused shockwaves of discomfort and fear to travel up your spine. His expression was unreadable, scrutinizing gaze never leaving your form. Eyes resembling the crimson red of blood, the picture was forever burned into your memory.

“...How strange.”

Unsurprisingly to most, SIERRA was the best friend of your mother. Looking past the horrible rumors that lingered inside the household about your mother, she decided to befriend her. And boy, was she relieved, discovering that your mother was nothing like the rumors had stated, no, your mother was just a sweet, harmless woman. The moments spent were very wholesome and a change of pace from the insanity that lingered in the household.

Though… everything went crashing down when your mother became pregnant with you. Don’t misunderstand Sierra… she was overjoyed over the announcement of you. What frightened her so much was that your mother fell terribly ill and without much reason. When your mother expressed her concerns about your health, Sierra also felt dread, wanting nothing horrible to happen to you. While it’s not related to health, Sierra knew what it’s like to be worried about your child’s well-being; she knew it all too well. Bless her kind-hearted soul, she hoped your mother would never experience the pain she was put through.

But, it appeared as though her prayers and hopes were all for naught as you were born sickly and frail. And aware of the monstrosity that will arise afterward, her heart shattered into a million pieces. Still, her knowledge of this evil pattern will never emotionally nor mentally prepare her for the disastrous event. Oh, she hated how powerless she was. Her screams, wails, and pleas were futile, having to witness the execution of her beloved friend at the hands of her husband. Why must the people she loves suffer so much?

She was left alone in the room, sobbing into her palm. Had it not been for the soft wails of your newborn self, she would have remained there on the ground, allowing the coolness of the tiles to seep onto her skin as she wept to her heart’s content. Frantically leaping to her feet and momentarily pushing her grief aside, she scooped your bundled self in her arms, listening to you calm down as a woeful frown etched itself onto her lips. Blinking away the stray tears in the corner of her eyes, she hugged you closer to her chest, rocking you slowly. She might as well enjoy what was left of her beloved friend.

History surely had its cruel way of repeating itself. As you aged, you developed a lovely personality; innocent and pure, contrasting the sadistic and aggressive personas the rest of your family members owned. Why it destroyed her the way it did was because your traits were on par with her deceased son, Ashil. Just what did she do to relive such a nightmare?

By some miracle, Lante seemed to favor you tremendously. The stress that was lifted from her shoulders was refreshing. …It was especially difficult to ignore how extremely clingy Sierra was toward you. Every hour of the day, every second, Sierra insisted to be by your side, never allowing you a moment of isolation. Even so, her clinginess will never compare to how overprotective she was. God forbid if you got injured in her sight, or somehow managed to sneak away from her watchful eyes for too long. She will fall into hysterics, holding onto the little thread of sanity she possessed as she smothers you with overbearing attention.

You almost screamed in terror at the figure looming above you. Thankfully, your brain reacted quicker as you identified the figure as your stepmother. What mostly unnerved you was not the fact that she most likely might have been watching you sleep, but how… lifeless she looked. You didn’t know she was able to make such a face. Quietly, you called out to her which successfully snapped her out of her trance. Wordlessly, the woman sunk to her knees and wrapped her arms around your small body, stuffing her face in your torso. Regardless of your utter confusion as to why she visited you in the dead of night, you returned the gesture, spurring her to tears. Doesn’t look like she’ll be leaving anytime soon…

“...It could have been you as well…”

When Sierra says she’s going to stay with you, she means that she is staying with you. She does a good job of it as well, much to your dismay. But her whimpers every time you tried to run away always filled you with guilt, grounding you next to her. And thus, due to Sierra’s stubbornness to leave you alone, this is how MARIA met you.

It was a bright and sunny day, the flowers were in season, and birds were chirping merrily… it was the perfect condition to host a tea party! What better way to relax under this glorious weather than to enjoy tea and desserts with her favorite guests? So excitedly, Maria sent invitations.

Sierra was one of the last few to arrive. When Maria went to greet her, what she wasn’t expecting was two instead of one. Honestly speaking… Maria did not care for both you and your mother. Yes, she has heard of the gossip of your mother circulating among the Agriche Wives, and yes, she has heard the talk of your birth. But for someone who has never seen you or your mother before, there was only so much fuel she could add to the fire.

Her eyebrows were raised as Sierra timidly states that she brought someone along. Since Sierra was mostly alone, it was a surprise to her. Though all questions died down in her throat when she caught a glimpse of you.

The umbrella that was tightly grasped in her hand fell to the ground, her jaw slackening as she stared at you with blown eyes. …Was it even possible to be more beautiful than Sierra and her daughter combined!? You were just as pretty as a flower!

Not much explanation was needed, she immediately fell head over heels for you. Forget the fact you came uninvited, come relax and have some tea! Squealing with a skip in her step, she snatched you from Sierra's side, ushering you to a comfortable seat where she and all the ladies present fussed over you. …You left with a stomach bursting from sweets that day…

Unfortunately, gaining Maria's affection means you're subjected to her bizarre actions. If you had Sierra visiting your room in the dead of night, you had Maria visiting your room at the crack of dawn. You've woken up to her beaming face far too many times to count…

Braiding your hair, dressing up, and playing pretend are Maria's favorite activities with you and they always end with her pinching your cheeks and kissing them before she leaves. She really wanted to lock you up for herself, a cute little doll all for her to admire, pamper and cherish.

Maria was very cheerful and a bit eccentric, so you mostly felt at peace in her presence. …But that all changed when you stayed at a party longer than you should have. What you saw was like a wake-up call for you, unless they were Sierra, no matter how sweet they make themselves appear, they were still an Agriche, dehumanized, and evil.

You suddenly felt the dessert you ate creep up your throat as you stared at the servant's corpse... what was left of it, at least. The spoon you used to eat the treat slipped from your fingers, falling onto the table with a loud rattle. Your second stepmother, the murderer, was unbothered by it all, a devilish smile occupying her doll-like features, calming dishing out orders for the servant’s body to be fed to the beastly creatures that resided inside the mansion. At the sight of you, her sadistic smile morphed into one filled with pure adoration. She made her way to you giddily and squeezed you into a hug, uncaring of the evidence of her killing smearing all over your body. Frozen, you just stood there as she lovingly pressed a sweet kiss on your cheek.

"My! Aren't you such a Cutie Pie!"

The first time she saw you, she only gave you a glance… before she almost stumbled over as she did a double take. Once she regained her composure, in quick, long strides, ROXANA closed the distance between you both, firmly placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. You flinched, nearly shooting off the ground. The hallways were pretty much empty, so where the hell did she randomly emerge from?

Her stare intimidated you as her eyes were practically glaring holes into your body. It remained that way for a while, her hand on your shoulder as she stared, you, too scared out of your mind to even breathe properly. Soon, her hard stare turned soft, her reddened lips curling into her iconic smile.

Do you know how long she has waited to see you? The answer, she’s been waiting for years. The Abysmal Flower is a book that was offered to her by a school friend in her previous life… to which she initially detested reading because of the triggering contents the novel entailed… but she got past that. Because of all the dark themes, your character was an abnormality in the novel so to speak, especially when you were a member of The Black Agriche. The Black Agriche was known for its criminal activities… Fraud, Theft, Drugs & Poison, and most importantly murder, taking away lives without batting an eyelid.

You didn't belong with that, choosing peace as a method rather than violence. You were just a poor unfortunate soul inside a den filled with savages. It was a custom tradition in the household to eliminate those who stood outside their reputation as it displayed signs of weakness. But you remained unharmed by their gruesome acts. You see, the book portrayed you as possessing this indescribable charm where people feel more inclined to protect you than to harm you. Clearly, The Black Agriche was under this so-called charm of yours. It also extended to the novel’s heroine, Sylvia, who despite hating The Black Agriche, fell in love with you because of your angelic nature, viewing you as a younger sibling. Sadly, blinded by her rage and sorrow over the news of her brother’s killing, she wiped you out with the rest… falling into deeper despair after realizing she destroyed you as well.

Admittingly, Roxana held a grudge over Sylvia and the authors for that stunt. You were her favorite character by far and had so much potential. So even though the alarms blared loudly as her mind registered that she reincarnated as an Agriche and the trials that come along with the name, she was buzzing from glee now that she had a chance to see you… years after.

But after that ‘incident’ and the daily nuisances, she ought to handle for survival, the thought of you slowly slipped from her mind… until now. While no one will stupidly lay a finger on you inside the household, the same cannot be said for some outside the household. The Black Agriche has made quite the amount of enemies, after all. You being the favored one, including your predicament will make you a big target of these enemies. Thus, Roxana does her best to add extra security to your life.

Whenever she gets the chance, she will constantly check on you. If not, she will simply send one of her butterflies to always be updated about your whereabouts. Don’t you see? Whatever she does, it’s done in your favor… So, please enlighten her as to why you appear to be so antsy around her. She hasn’t done anything wrong, has she? She didn’t know you had a dramatic side… but, oh well, that’s endearing too.

She was nice to you, very very nice. For some reason though, it scared you more than it flattered you. You were unsure of why, but your instincts always screamed at you to avoid the blonde. She hasn’t done anything for you to fear her, only spoiling you with exquisite gifts and jewelry. But after what happened with your second stepmother… you didn’t want to take chances. A gloved thumb distracted you from your thoughts, gently caressing your cheek. Lifting your gaze, you peered into reddened hues, an emotion you were unable to decipher swirling in them. She smiled at you fondly, cooing even. Placing your hands on your lap, you smiled back, ignoring the nauseating churn in your stomach.

“Did I perhaps do something wrong? No? Then you don’t mind staying longer with your Big Sister, right~?”

Roxana’s extreme adoration for you had JEREMY torn between anxiety and anger. It’s already bad enough that he had to share his sister’s attention with the god-forsaken Blue Pedelian but now a whiny baby has come to steal the remainder of his spotlight!? He’s NOT happy. I mean, he was there longer than both you AND him. Though, it seems that his sister favors you more than the horny dog… Not that it makes it any better. It’s still annoying.

Jeremy has mentioned this several times to his sister, mostly about you. It was obvious he was jealous, but his complaints stemmed deeper than jealousy, it was fear that his sister will leave him if she attaches herself to others. Growing up in a loveless household was beyond excruciating and his sister, being the first one to treat him like a human and not a weapon, he continuously yearned for her affection. He didn’t want to return to what it was before, and if denying his sister interactions with others stopped that, he’s all in for it. Reassuring words from his sister, however, washed away the little panic inside him.

Still, it lingered on his mind, you. His sister doesn’t mention anyone just like that; if she does, it certainly isn’t to that extent. She’s always smiling, her eyes glitter in excitement, and she rambles on and on, very unusual for her. At least you make her happy… Nevermind. He’s still bitter about the whole thing.

In time, he finally asks his sister if he can meet the person that caught her eye. It could be anyone, considering the ungodly amount of siblings he had and since she was heading to where you were located, he might as well tag along too. His sister’s hesitation didn’t escape his eye, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Looks like you held more value to her than he first presumed…

After contemplating her answer for a while, she gave in, beckoning him closer with a finger. As they walked together, she told him you were the shy type, and it's highly advised that he doesn't do something to overwhelm you. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not… but he felt as though there was a subtle threat underlying her words… Soon enough, they arrived at your bedroom doors.

What did you look like? What kind of person truly are you? His sister paints you a good light, going so far saying you were an angel descended from the heavens. But what if there was a dark side you skillfully concealed? That you were just another savage under the disguise of an innocent? It’s not like he doubted his sister’s judgment… just simply concerned for her well-being.

Well, he'll be damned. And slightly ashamed too. Look at you… you were so frail… and gentle too. The way you touched Roxana and spoke with her, (god, your VOICE!) was so soft, musical, and pleasing to the ears. He kind of flinched when the conversation held between you and his sister switched to him, his sister gesturing to him with a hand. His heart warmed, seeing how your big-doe eyes looked at him, the beautiful hue of them twinkling with curiosity.

Most recoil from his touch but, you reached out to him, interlacing your tiny fingers with his. He noticed how your hand trembled, looks like Roxana was correct, you were the shy type. Even so, you overcame your anxiety to greet him! Him! The final blow was the sweet giggle that escaped your lips, swinging your hand in his. Forget Angel, you were Heaven Sent.

It was very silly how easily he fell under your control, but can you blame him? When was the last time someone treated him with genuine kindness and affection other than his sister? He visited you a lot after that, to your surprise. You thought it was a one-time thing, but here he is, bringing spoils and stuffed animals every day. At that point, you had to ask for another room to store your gifts from him… Jokes and banter are common between you two, him doing most of the interaction, pinching your cheeks, and tickling your sides. Jeremy… turns out to be more childish than you, who is a child, and that said something. It amazed you when he’s on the verge of falling onto the ground and crying out whenever you declined his time with you.

Then there were instances that he was similar to a cat, cute and loving to the people he cherishes, pissy and hostile to others when they come near his cherished. What you hated about him was his ugly jealousy streak and the damage he brings with it. It can annoying when someone you like doesn’t spend much time with you as you’d like, but was it really worth bashing their head into the floor?

You walked hand-in-hand with your brother who hummed merrily. As for you, you were in a state of shock, silent as your mind tried to process what had happened prior earlier. Why did he… kill the servant? They were being nice to you were they not? It was just a lovely fresh-picked flower they wanted to gift out of the goodness of their heart. To you, you thought it was the prettiest one you’ve ever seen so far, the vibrant color palette reminding you of yourself. Mesmerized you were very close to taking the pretty thing, your chubby hands reaching to clasp at the plant. In the BLINK of an eye, the servant was no longer in their spot, the flower soaking in a puddle of blood on the ground, and your hands outstretched. The liquid was also splattered on your face, little droplets spluttered on your dress. In front of you was your brother, an enraged face overtaking his features. And underneath his boot was… the servant that offered the flower to you. What just happened…? Shrugging off how your irises dilated as he came closer, he knelt to the ground, scooping the flower from its puddle. And with a beaming smile, he patted your head, giving the bloodied flower to you instead.

“They’re out of their fuckin’ minds if they think I’d allow them to taint you.”

After your encounter with Roxana, she basically took over the role of bodyguard away from Sierra. Then you appreciated Sierra more, for mingling in Roxana’s presence had you stiffer than a board. The evening was a stormy one, the raindrops harshly beating against the roof, the low rumbles of thunder, and the faint flashes of lightning. For some odd reason, Roxana wanted to take a walk with you in this weather. You didn’t want to, but one word of hers led to another, and now you’re here. Too bad you were too scared to speak up.

Suddenly, she told you she had to run a small errand. It won’t take long, she insisted, and just like that, you were left “unsupervised” in the middle of the hallway. When you wanted to be left alone, you didn’t mean it like this. The hallways were eerily vacant and your room was nowhere nearby. The setting didn’t ease your growing anxiety; it was straight out of a horror novel where anything was capable of jumping you at any given moment. So… imagine how your soul left your body when you glanced over your shoulder, only to make eye contact with a face.

Gasping loudly, you spun around and stumbled backward, your small hands clutching at your clothes. Hair dark as the night sky, eyes red as blood… How did your father manage to silence his footsteps…? And most importantly, what could he possibly want from you…? The deep frown he wore is a bad sign… Did you finally manage to push your father over the edge!?

The distant sound of heels hastily clacking against the floor trickled into your ears. Shortly after Roxana came into view, panting heavily as she shot a firey glare at the figure in front of you followed by a trail of threats. How did she have the courage to do that!? Did she not fear your father’s wrath? More so, why was he not responding? And who is this DION!? Too confused to study your fear of your sister when she lifted you into her arms, you wrapped your arms around her neck staring at a smirk creeping on who you assumed to be your father’s face.

The days continued smoothly (as the routine with Lante, Sierra, Maria, Roxana, and Jeremy occurred too often to be considered strange) and you lived your life as best as possible. But that was just the calm before the storm…

Jumping from your seat, the porcelain cup slipped from your hands, shattering on the ground and spilling the milk. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your skin grew ice cold. Maria, Sierra, and the women present at the tea party also freaked out, the former rushing to both of your sides as they attempted to soothe your panicking self.

But that was a mistake for as soon as Maria touched you, you broke down into a fit of tears. They were confused, you were fine seconds ago! Was it perhaps the milk you drank with your biscuits that caused this!? Well, that certainly wouldn't slip by!

However, was that the answer to your panic? No. Someone was… watching you. It wasn't a normal glance… but rather one that instilled apprehensiveness in the hearts of numerous, and unfortunately, it was geared toward you. Left, right, and back, you frantically looked around, trying to identify who it was the person that had you so distraught. But, you couldn't, which made you cry harder and flail your arms about.

You knew the situation was very bad that the noise caught the attention of Lante, summoning him inside the greenhouse where the tea party was hosted. He was disgruntled, unsure of what to do. He didn't train himself to be a proper parent, so how should he know how to tame a crying child no less?

The best option he thought of was to carry you to your bed quarters and your stepmothers quickly complied, Maria whispering sweet nothings into your ears as she carried you, and Sierra lurking not too far behind.

There was some fun in isolation, you thought, as you found solace in the confinement of your room. Whenever you tried to stay outside in the company of others, so did the feeling of being watched return, the dread worsening the smaller the crowd gets. The feeling always disappeared when you were alone in your room, or by yourself… hold on, did you just hear your bedroom door lock?

This man was not your father. It made sense now why your sister treated him with disrespect. If he was not your father, could he possibly be one of your siblings? Though he looks like him, a carbon copy you think, he was sure far worse than your father in personality. Dull, apathetic, and very sadistic. He had no regard for life either as he shamelessly killed the maid assigned to you in front of your eyes. Even when the blood splattered on his face, he showed no emotion, maintaining eye contact with you. Could he be the one that was watching you all this time? Why did he wait to approach you when you were alone? Have you upset him in some way? Was he going to slaughter you next? All these questions ran through your head, unknowingly letting the tears gathered in your eyes run down your cheeks. This caught his attention, the smirk you remembered him having on your first encounter spreading on his lips. Kneeling in front of your bed, uncaring of how you trembled in his company, he reached out a hand, rubbing his finger tenderly against your cheek. It was sick how he found satisfaction that he evoked such a reaction from you. A teardrop fell onto his finger and he brought it to his lips, tasting it. What was meant to be salty, the flavor burst with sweetness in his mouth.

“I wonder what other reactions I can get from you.”

Weak… Fragile… Gentle… Pure… Innocent… How are you surviving in this god-forsaken household? It’s even more amusing to witness the same man, her father, protect what he firmly strived to kill. And that’s how GRISELDA formed a great interest in you, the youngest of The Black Agriche. She remembers clearly, a conversation she held with one of her younger half-sisters years ago, the person responsible for knocking her out of her top three rankings. Smiling happily with her fingers interlaced underneath her chin, she promised to show her something that will greatly humor her.

You may not have been the ‘thing’ her sister was referring to, nevertheless, it was not an unwelcomed one. Ah, she wonders, how long has it been since she has had that spark of interest? The day her sibling died in front of her eyes, feelings such as love became foreign to her. But, you? You restored these lost feelings of hers from first sight. She was stupefied when it happened, her body overflowing with spontaneous bursts of energy.

Truth be told, she had an eye on you for the longest while now, aching to meet you in person at least once. But, curse her hectic schedule to hell, leaving her no choice but to satisfy her curiosity about you from the little stories told by her other half-siblings. For the first time, she had felt a sense of ugly envy… Will they know of it though? No.

Fate was cruel to her, she thinks. First, to take away her sibling she loved, and second, to present, oh, such an ethereal gift, just to keep it away from her arm's length having to watch down on you from the villa’s balcony, scurrying about with her other siblings. For now, she’ll keep it that way, looking at you with a sober expression from afar, but still offering you exquisite gifts to make you aware of her existence.

It was another gift that seemed to spawn alive onto your dressing table, probably from your anonymous gift-giver. You had asked your siblings, including your stepmother who would occasionally step inside if they were the ones responsible, to which they all responded with a ‘no.’ You wondered if it were a servant that did it, but after what transpired with the previous one, you doubted anyone outside your family will be willing to take such a risk. This time, the gift was sitting in a glass vase, filled with water. In the vase were the flowers you adored with the lovely aroma. Happily, you whiffed the scent. Picking up the note that came with the gift, it read, ‘These flowers reminded me of you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do… Sincerely, Griselda.’

“Don’t die on me, Little Sister. I won’t allow it~”

You were very confused to see a red-headed girl on her hands and knees, panting heavily for air. She was shaken too, a sickly color to her pale skin and the cold sweat that ran down the exposed parts of her body. But as you caught the dim red glow in the corner of your eye, as well as the faint sound of wings flapping, you were able to put two-and-two together; the girl was most likely tormented by Roxana’s infamous killer butterflies.

You pitied her, knowing what those butterflies were capable of, one almost biting your finger clean off your hand in one instance. But, that was just a sole butterfly you dealt with, she must have encountered several. And from one victim to another, you approached her shaking form in the hopes of comforting her.

Though… it seems she didn’t appreciate the sentiment… the fiery stare she gave you in response shut you up quickly and almost made you lose your bowels right there. Screaming insults and curses, she sprang to her feet and shoved past you, storming off to where she wanted to go. You just stood there in your spot, wide-eyed with your hands on your chest. Well, that’s what you get for roping yourself into situations that didn’t concern you…

From her outburst, you didn’t anticipate seeing her again, nor do you think she would want to see you. So her interrupting the tea party with yourself in the garden the next day startled you. Overcoming your shock, you smiled at her and invited her to join you and enjoy a couple of biscuits. She stuck her nose into the air and gawked at you as though you’d grown two heads… but still agreed. You did most of the talking, shortly learning her name, CHARLOTTE, and her exchanging haughty remarks here and then. It was a decent event…

If only you knew what exactly your brief display of kindness unconsciously resigned yourself to. Charlotte… was awfully demanding. After the tea party, Charlotte appeared by you very frequently, ordering that you drop whatever it was you were doing, and spend time with her. It could be one of the most important things you had to handle and she would not care. You could be with one of your siblings and she would not care. You could be sick and worn out, she will NOT care. If she wants to be with you, it will be now, no time for discussion. Just TRY to say no, it won’t do you any good. You said yes a lot, mostly because of your fear of what she will do if you deprive her of what she desired. She already made you petrified with a glare, how much worse will it be once she reaches her limit and lashes out? You have no ability to defend yourself when the time comes, so why should you cause trouble? Give in and avoid the unnecessary problem.

She was shaking with fury, hands angrily pulling at her puffy pigtails. How dare they…? HOW DARE THEY!? Are they stupid!? What do you mean you can’t spend time with her!? YOU BOTH ALWAYS SPEND TIME TOGETHER AT THIS TIME! WHY was she and him getting in her way of being with YOU!? They have to be stupid! While she went through an internal crisis, you clutched at your clothes, tears pricking at your eyes. Her green eyes were practically glowing with wrath from the hatred she harbored for your older sister and brother! She was also on the verge of snapping, that you can tell. She was losing all of her morality the longer they denied her what she wanted. You would have excused yourself long ago, but when she’s like this, that’s not the ideal option, for she may do something regrettable to you. Stepping behind your sister, your ears twitched at the sound of a whip cracking, inclusive of a butterflies’ wings, indicating the start of a full-on brawl.

“GO AWAY! Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something!?”

And finally… YOU! How do you feel about your family's attention to you? You never saw how other families interact with their kin… but you knew that what your family was doing was wrong. It was dangerous and obsessive. Would you tell them that? No. Unless you wish to suffer a fate worse than death by confronting them, you will keep your silence until all the odds are in your favor.

They were the butterflies, your mannerisms and kindness as the sweet nectar and color that attracted them, and you, their delicate flower.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #twtptflob x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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lordprettyflackotara · 2 months

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criminal || Jeff the killer

smut 18+, minors dni, PLEASE READ: TW: CNC, FACE FUCKING, gun play?, bank robbery, kidnapping at the end

Jeff the killer knew he was good at what he did.

He was good at killing people quickly.

Or making them suffer, depending on which he was in the mood for.

What Jeff wasn’t good at however, was two things.

1. Listening to an order.

2. Having patience.

Of course he tried his hardest to suck it up, listening to almost all of Slender’s commands without a second thought.

Those commands usually involved things he was good at.

Except for today.

Jeff grumbled unhappily to himself in the front seat of the toyota Ben managed to buy off of craigslist.

Robbery was the proxies job, not Jeff’s.

So imagine Jeff’s surprise when his latest order was to rob the local bank right before closing.

It wasn’t that the mission was hard.

Yet, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he was chosen for the job.

Eyeless Jack had been chosen as his getaway driver. Not out of choice but out of convenience.

Apparently Masky had been shot a couple of times the last mission they were on and Hoody has been moping around ever since. Since Toby wasn’t trusted enough to complete this kind of task alone, Jeff was the next runner up in Slender’s eyes.

Tasks like this were the closest Slenderman could get to getting Jeff as a proxy. So naturally he took what he could.

EJ was never normally a blabber to Jeff. Whether or not Jeff would come and say it outright, EJ was probably his favorite at the mansion. He wasn’t insufferable, usually keeping to himself and complying with Jeff’s odd favors.

However during this car ride, Jeff couldn’t help but consider Eyeless Jack to be yapping.

For some odd reason, EJ wasn’t in the mood to be ignoring Jeff’s usual disdain and grumpiness. Instead he chose to ramble on about his latest kill and the medical discoveries he had made.

On a typical Tuesday evening Jeff would’ve told him to shut the fuck up. But he was so miserable being assigned this task in the first place, he found himself holding his tongue.

The dim street lights were the only source of light on the street they rode down, the car not having headlights. Ben deemed them not to be necessary. It was almost comical watching EJ try to navigate the road without them.

Jeff unhappily reached into the glovebox, pulling out a black face mask and pair of sunglasses. If he had things go his way, he would’ve been wearing a ski mask. Unfortunately Slender disagreed, his concern revolving around not even making it into the bank itself.

He shoved the face mask on, the tips of his raw uncut smile peaking out near his ears. He put the sunglasses on, before grabbing the traditional black sack and hand gun Masky had lent him. Jeff thought the 1930’s sack was a little lame, but it was practical.

Jeff forced himself out of the car, quietly shutting the door behind him. EJ rolled down the window, deciding to remind Jeff of what they were doing.

“Alright look, just go in there, get the money so we can go,” EJ said firmly, the words catching Jeff’s attention.

Jeff mumbled an annoyed agreement, deciding it would be best to go ahead and walk on in.

“Hey Jeff?” EJ called. Jeff gritted his teeth in irritation, quickly turning around.

“What?!”

If EJ had eyes, he would’ve rolled them.

“Don’t kill nobody this time,”

Jeff shoved off his request, shoving his last mission filling in for the proxies in the back of his mind. It wasn’t his fault that Slender put him on a proxy mission. He also didn’t specify that he had to leave all the hostages alive.

Jeff muttered curses under his breath, mainly insulting EJ, before deciding to whistle.

He strolled into the bank casually, the hand gun tucked into his back waistband.

You were closing up for the night, the sight of Jeff annoying you. You had counted every drawer except for your own, and now you’d have to stay past closing. You brushed off your pencil skirt, painting on your best customer service smile.

“Hi, how can I help you?” You asked. You were puzzled by Jeff’s appearance, the sunglasses throwing you off. You wanted to assume the best, thinking he possibly blind and cautious of infections.

Jeff could hardly contain his excitement once he saw you. You had such a lovely face, your smile bright and filling him with ease. Your delicious thighs were covered by your black pencil skirt, your hair in a tight professional ponytail. He was smiling under his mask, a genuine one that wasn’t carved on.

“I’d like to make a withdrawal,” Jeff said calmly, his voice smooth like butter. His eyes scanned the bank quickly, realizing you were the only one there. Jeff mentally cursed to himself as he realized he hadn’t gotten out of the mansion much lately.

He could feel heat rushing to his cheeks as he looked at you, your curious eyes searching his covered face for further elaboration. Even in your modest uniform, Jeff could see your natural curves. How long had it been since he had been around a normal girl? One without a clock for an eye or burnt pale skin like his?

“Sir are you okay-” You began to ask, before your eyes fluttered down to his crotch. His boner was poking not so discreetly through his black jeans, your face flushing pink. Your surprised look snapped Jeff out of his daze, causing him to quickly yank his gun out of his back waistband.

“Put the fucking money in the bag bitch and no one gets hurt,” Jeff growled, shoving the bag at you. Fear crashed down over you like a violent wave as tears prickled in your eyes quickly. Your hands shook as you grabbed the keys to your cash drawer, struggling to insert the key into the keyhole.

Jeff watched in awe as you struggled to miss the keyhole for a third time. He rolled his eyes. “Useless bitch do I have to do everything? Give it to me,” He sighed. You held out the keys hesitantly, your body shaking in fear and an odd arousal as you heard him talk more. He unlocked the cash drawer, before turning his attention back to you.

“I’m not going to touch it. Put it in the fucking sack before I blow your head off,” Jeff spat. He stepped out of the way, his boner not going down. You grabbed handfuls of cash, shoving them in Jeff’s sack. He watched as you bent over, your ass looking great through your tight uniform.

“Please don’t kill me,” You whispered, tears finally falling from your waterline. Jeff contemplated his options, remembering Slenderman’s and EJ’s warnings. You were cute after all, even for a little bank teller.

“Maybe we can work something out doll,” Jeff’s pale hand stroked your face as you shoved more stacks of money into the bag. His touch felt disgusting, but his words were like pure honey. “What d-do you want?” You stuttered. You finished emptying out your drawer, turning to him and handing him the money.

Jeff towered over you, his ashy black hair hanging over his forehead and top of his sunglasses.

“Well doll, you’ve created a problem for me you see,” Jeff purred. He grabbed your tiny hand, placing it over his aching boner. Just your touch was enough to make him shift in place. Your face went bright red, your eyes widening. “I c-can’t just let you fuck me. There are cameras everywhere. I’ll be humiliated-” You began rambling, afraid that this conversation wasn’t a negation.

Jeff glanced down at the plentiful stacks of money in the bag, figuring spending a few extra minutes with you would be a decent reward. “I’m a man of compromise,” Jeff offered. He was itching to pull the trigger on the gun he was holding at your head, but taking out a camera or two would have to do for now.

He shot at the cameras on each side behind the desk, leaving only the main one in the lobby on. Jeff mentally thanked Masky for the silencer on his main gun, as it gave him more time with you. “No cameras, and as much as i’d love to ruin your tight pussy, no sex. Knees doll,” Jeff grunted. He was having a hard time adjusting to negation with a regular human, but your puppy eyes full of tears were just too darling for him to ignore.

You wanted to be disgusted by the situation, to be kicking and screaming. But something about Jeff, the way he talked and moved had you aching for more. Your bare knees hit the raw carpet, promising rug burn on your skin. Your hands were still shaking as you began to undo his belt, the killer staring down at you eagerly.

You slowly unzipped his zipper, the two of you working together to pull down his pants. “I don’t have all night,” Jeff told you impatiently. You squirmed to have him fully revealed in front of you, his cock hard in front of your face. His tip was a pinkish color, while the rest of his shaft matched the rest of his pale white skin. You slowly took him in your mouth, screwing your eyes shut. Jeff let out a quiet groan, a string of curses following behind it.

“Nuh uh doll, open those pretty eyes f’me,” Jeff ordered, trying to sound stern as you bobbed your head up and down his cock. You weren’t half bad for a little bank teller, your nipples poking through your button up as you struggled to keep your eyes on the man standing before you. Jeff grabbed your slicked back ponytail, forcing you to take more of him.

“Thats it, take it all,” Jeff murmured, licking his lips under his mask. You forced your jaw to go slack, his fingers tightly yanking at your hair. “I’d relax if I were you, unfortunately for you I don’t have all night,” Jeff sighed. You almost raised one eyebrow, before his shaft forced itself down your throat. Your waterline filled with tears immediately, your nose touching his black curls.

Jeff sighed in relief at the sensation of your tight throat, his hips beginning to buck on their own. You listened obediently, staring up at him as he throat fucked you. You struggled to breathe, a burning sensation clouding your nose. “You know, you’re actually pretty good at this,” Jeff snickered. He pulled out briefly, offering you the reward of breathing.

You gasped like a fish out of water, inhaling as much oxygen as you could. A foul mixture of saliva and drool pooled under the carpet beneath you, soaking it. Jeff considered praising you, complimenting how pretty you looked like this. Your face all red, hair messy, covered in tears and spit. But as the thought crossed his mind, there was only one other thing he would like your face coated in.

Jeff forced your head back onto his cock, continuously face fucking you as he pleased. He could feel himself getting closer, his hips stuttering. In the far distance he heard the sound of police sirens, causing him to grit his teeth in annoyance. “I’d love to paint your face doll, but I can’t leave any DNA behind. You understand right?” Jeff asked mockingly.

You almost mentally asked what he meant, before his tip hit the back of your throat one final time. His seed was warm and salty, causing you to gag at the slightest taste your tongue had the displeasure of sensing. He stayed lodged in your throat for a moment, enjoying watching you struggle to swallow him all.

Jeff snickered as he pulled out of your mouth, your knees raw with rug burn and your throat desperately trying to swallow his cum.

You panted as you looked up at him, the police sirens getting closer. He fixed himself up, extending a hand for you to take. You stared at him curiously, forgetting your situation and taking his hand.

“I’m not allowed to kill anyone. And now that you’ve seen me, you’re a liability,” Jeff told you. Your eyes darted back and forth at his sunglasses, searching for a look of his orbs.

“Looks like you’re going to have to come with me. You’ve grown on me anyways,” Jeff huffed. In a swift motion he threw you over his shoulder, dragging you and the bag of money to EJ’s car.

#jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer #creepypasta smut #creepypasta #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x y/n #creepypasta lemon #eyeless jack #eyeless jack smut #ticci toby #ticci toby smut #masky smut #masky marble hornets #ben drowned #ben drowned smut #jeff the killer x eyeless jack

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bby-deerling · 4 months

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one piece men: when you're jealous (vol. ii)

more jealousy headcanons! these are also a bit suggestive (mainly kid's part) so beware! cross guild is next >:^)

ft. luffy, ace, kid

vol. i (zoro, sanji, law) || masterlist

luffy

a chance meetup with the kuja pirates has soured your mood as you watch luffy and hancock from afar. the food is far more mesmerizing to him than she is, but the way she purposely keeps you apart from your partner; as you hear her swoon again about the prospect of marriage, you sigh and hang your head.

luffy is the type to notice something is wrong and ask about it, forcing you to fess up about how you're feeling to him. he doesn't understand why you're so worked up about hancock's doting over him; after all, he's with you and not her! if you bring it up with him, he will giggle and laugh before ruffling your hair and telling you not to worry so much about something stupid.

pointing out the way she excludes you prompts him to either confront her, making hancock flustered as she tries to defend herself good luck, she's even more angry at you now, or just shoehorns you into any conversation that he's in by force. he loves you and doesn't want you to feel left out!

telling him you're jealous will make him be more physically affectionate, pulling you close and looping one of his arms multiple times around your waist while he shoves food into his face with the other. expect sloppy kisses that leave crumbs on your cheek. (he will lick them off, don't worry!)

ace

you're no stranger to the amount of heads that ace turns, but the familiarity of it doesn't dull the pain. he's beautiful, polite, charismatic, and kind; it makes him a magnet, and sometimes he can't separate himself from the pull. he was supposed to bring your drink back ages ago, but two women hang on his arms at the bar—that is until he falls asleep and slumps over onto the ground.

when ace wakes up, he is all smiles upon noticing he's curled up in his own bed on the moby dick; his grin falls when he sees you're clearly upset with him. at first he thinks it's because you and marco had to go to the trouble of dragging him back to the ship, but he can't help but laugh when you tell him it's because you were jealous.

he insists he was only being friendly, and that he was really going to be right back with your drinks, but you accuse him of liking the attention and he can see the hurt and sense of rejection brimming in your eyes. he knows what it's like to feel unwanted, and switches gears as he focuses on reassuring you.

ace pulls you under the covers and smothers you face in kisses, whispering soft apologies as he slowly makes your anger fade away. he may be a bit too friendly at times, but the affection he seeks from you is all he needs to keep his heart full.

kid

it was bound to happen at some point; he was the supernova with both the largest bounty on his head and the largest ego. you knew he was a flirt, but you had been at sea since the start of your relationship, and nearly forgot about the womanizer he becomes the second he gets a single crumb of attention. killer says to let it go and give him hell later, but the way that woman is draped across his lap makes you want to bust his nose up so hard it breaks back to it's natural position.

be prepared to either fuck or fight—they're the only two options here. confronting him only results in him asking you why you weren't on his lap to begin with; if he really wants to rile you up, he'll tell you if you snooze you lose. he's a jerk about it, but the way you're getting possessive riles him up and makes his focus shift solely on you.

if you choose to fight with him, he won't step out—he's lost interest in flirting and has a sour taste in his mouth now—and will probably follow you back to the victoria punk, arguing with you the entire way. both of you refuse to sleep elsewhere, and end up having the worst rest of your life, backs turned to each other as icy tension hangs in the room. in the morning, he rolls over, drapes his arm around you, and grumbles a sorry, won't do it again in your ear as he kisses your cheek.

if you choose to work out your problems in bed, he's relentless about teasing you for being jealous. it strokes his ego to be wanted, and seeing you mewling as you fall apart around him after being so full of fire and fury does something to him. afterwards, he promises you that he won't flirt again, but makes you promise to hang by his side next time instead of drinking in the corner with killer.

#one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x you #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace x you #eustass kidd x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid x you #one piece headcanons #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction

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loganlermanstanaccount · 7 months

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please don't kill me mr ghostface (part 1)

(AO3 Mirror), (Main Masterlist), (Kinktober '23 Masterlist)

(Part 2 - coming soon!)

pairing: stalker!Miguel x f!reader, slight yandere undertones. (he's a murderer lowkey but very gentle and sweet and scary hot that's all guys I promise.)

summary: murders on campus. the odd toothbrush goes missing. what's new, honestly. life keeps ticking and you end up at a Halloween party somewhere you shouldn't. there, you meet a gorgeous man in a strange mask. he seems sweet, and all you're looking for is a bit of fun. what could go wrong?

warnings: 18+ , fingering, anal play (mig eats ass, send tweet!) , rimming, p in v, soft dom mig, some switchy + needy behaviour, mild threat of violence (not by mig), alcohol consumption. Minors DNI

a/n: 5k words of ignoring red flags. girl get a grip!

wc: 5.2k

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

You look too good to feel this shitty.

That's the thought you're left with, picking at flimsy spiderwebs draped on a sofa. Sandwiched between two couples making out like their life depends on it, of course, but that's beside the point.

“Someone said there's CCTV of a guy walking out the building at 3am… seems a little convenient, if you ask me…”

There's a TV on in the background, barely cutting through the dense chatter. By this point, your eyes have glazed over, trying not to let them rattle around in your skull. Drunken conversation around you, and it's the same thing as always; long, winding tales of a campus killer - the kind out of a cheesy slasher. What the news says, officially, is that there weren't any links between those 3 bodies that turned up out on the playing field, an empty dorm, a supply closet; but it hasn't stopped people from indulging in wild speculation.

“No, no, she just didn't turn up to my Econ class….I swear–”

Stay in pairs. Don't walk alone at night. Whilst you think it's all tangential at best, you're not one to tempt fate. The gossip, you could do without. But it doesn't hurt to keep yourself safe, pepper spray nestled in your usual bag.

Tonight, however, you've left it at home, thinking the friends you came with would be enough. Somewhere, somehow, they're off chugging shit beer and you're milling about the place and sinking into couch cushions. There's something sticky by the seat, and there's a crackle as you're jostled - the sharp edge of a stray elbow almost knocks your drink away.

Fuck.

For one night only, you're a cheerleader. A short, short skirt and little top; it has you feeling overdressed. Even though you've left the pompoms at home, next to your taser; seemingly, you've read the mood wrong - stupidly assuming people would dress up for a Halloween party. As you make your way to the kitchen, tugging down your skirt here and there, that's all you can see; half-hearted costumes - cat ears, white sheets and flimsy masks. It feels like you stick out in comparison. You've gone all out, with nothing but the threat of a beer sodden lap for your trouble.

It's a big house. Alpha-delta-phi, kappa-something-or-the-other; a frat with too much money and too much time on their hands. With all the doors you walk past, shallow thuds and thumping ringing out behind them, you're as good as lost. The best ragers this side of campus - as raved about by one of your friends. It feels like bucketfuls of horseshit right now, wandering around packed halls - and oh. Is that the same staircase?

“ Fuck, watch it!” You clatter into the side of an arm, a t-shirt with a superman symbol emblazoned at the chest. He's pretty, but his features curl into a sudden sneer.

" Sorry –" You start but he doesn't let you finish, wagging a thick finger in your face.

There's a girl draped on his arm, merely watching as he shouts; loud over pumping music from the next room over.

"Hey, dipshit , you gonna keep staring? Mouth open like a fucking fish– do you know how much this shit costs?" Your eyes are wide, as he gets closer - stinking of alcohol and pot and God knows what else. You're not drunk enough to entertain this, shirking away from confrontation. The room is hot, his breath is sticky , and–

He grabs your arm. Immediately you're trying to wrench yourself away, not daring to look into blown pupils. Clammy, his grip tightens on bare skin and your stomach churns. He's solid, bigger than you and unable to keep the anger out of his voice…. and fuck. You're scared.

Fear, rising like bile at the back of your throat. Bitter and sharp, fear at the fact that there isn't anyone to help; that everyone else looks away and pretends that this isn't happening. Fear at the spittle that sprays from his mouth like poison, stinging skin. You screw your eyes shut, expecting a slap, a blow, or something worse and then…

Thud. The hand around your wrist is no more, replaced by a gentle pat on your shoulder. Nothing lingering, just a light touch to get you to open your eyes; to see that guy on the floor, clutching at a swollen jaw and split lip.

"You okay? "

It's deep, muffled by a mask, and the figure in front of you has to crouch to be heard over incessant chatter.

You're nodding, sheepishly, not trusting yourself to keep that edge out of your voice.

Ghostface, the masked man, the only other person at this party properly dressed up; he only cocks his head in a gesture that says a thousand words. His robe pools around his wrists, thick fabric that you grab onto without thinking, grip just as tight as your would-be assailant. You don't even want to think about it, what could've happened if someone hadn't stepped in. It has you biting back tears, more shaken than you'd like to admit.

"H-Hey, hey, easy…" He's rubbing little circles into your shoulder, hesitant. Your lip wobbles, ever so slightly, but he catches it, gently pulling you aside.

There isn't a crowd. The stragglers, those that saw the display, barely look at the guy on the floor, scrambling to his feet and far away. In the meantime, you fight off tears and force yourself to flash a shaky smile.

"Good. " You croak, taking his hands off your shoulders. "F-Fuck , I mean… I'm good. Thank you."

He doesn't quite budge, giving you that strange look again. At least, you think so, rearing up to his full height to cross his arms. Quiet incredulity, almost cartoonish, and it almost makes you laugh. Almost.

"Let me get you a drink… some water, or something." He says, stretching out a gloved hand. Sensing your hesitance, he quickly adds, "... Please ."

Chewing your lip, you only have to think for a second before taking it, and you're led out through double doors. Your masked man is big; broad shouldered and hulking, cutting through the writhing mass with ease. It's just as well, you think, unable to sort through the tangle of things that rattle around in your head. You hate this fucking school, sometimes. Boys will be boys. Wear more appropriate clothing. Well, wasn't she just asking for it? A culture of inaction; of hand-wringing and hand-waving… passing on the blame until three dead bodies show up on campus.

That's one thing you have to thank the so-called serial killer for, at least. At least something might actually change around here.

Empty, the kitchen is a mess, but nothing you wouldn't expect. Drink long gone; a distant memory spilled on a carpet, somewhere; you perch awkwardly around a counter, not knowing where to put your hands. Rattled, you've resorted to a glassy stare; stewing and festering and thinking so intensely it might frighten off your masked man.

It doesn't. He merely taps you, a gentle elbow to your side and he offers you a glass of water. Weakly, you give him a smile, gulping up the liquid.

"You here by yourself ?" He asks, muffled by plastic.

You can't help it, eyes wide at the implication - a masked man, a killer on campus - and he must realise the way it sounds.

In no time at all, he clarifies, "I just mean… fuck … is there someone I can call? So you're not alone."

It's a kind gesture. Kinder than you'd expect from a stranger. Slowly, you shake your head.

"They ditched me about an hour ago." You give a bitter laugh. "Just me and you, Mr Ghostface."

And with that he laughs; deep and sonorous, causing heat to bloom at your chest. Despite yourself, you smile, and you swear you see a glint of something behind the mask.

It has you itching for a drink. All of a sudden you make your way across the room, swiping at empty beer bottles and cans, rummaging around for some hard liquor. When you find it - a half empty bottle of something that smells like carpet cleaner and acetone - you're taking a swig, and offering it to the man across from you. It's sneaky, but you don't think he clocks your paltry attempt to see what he looks like under that mask.

He shakes his head, hands up in defeat.

"You sure?" Your voice is lilting, hazy around the edges. Creeping up closer, you press your body to his, taking another unceremonious gulp. Under that cloak - heavy, somewhat well made - you can feel him, lean and cut muscle that tenses as you get closer.

Batting your eyelashes, you make full use of the cheerleader get-up, snaking a dainty hand to his side, and then up to the counter. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was ogling you, chest taught and tight at the way you feel against him.

Or maybe, he's bored as shit. You wouldn't know - with the mask, and all.

Wobbly, you clamber up onto the counter, helped up by a gentle hand at the small of your back… and oh. You like that: big, thick fingers that press into you, carefully tracing your waist… and why won't they go down a little further? Grab handfuls of the flesh at your thighs, your ass, everything in between?

He's too conservative for that, you think. Nervous, too. Nevertheless, he slots between your thighs, big palms flat next to your ass.

"I… I don't mind watching." He says, voice low.

It makes you giggle as you drink, sweet and soft, and liquid dribbles past your lips, down to collarbone. Mr Ghostface is gentle, tracing a finger across the juncture of your neck, light pressure on the vein that sits nice and pretty at its side.

It goes to your head. The alcohol, the large man of few words with a hand on your neck. When he finishes swiping at the liquid and pulls his hand away, you curl your hand around his, bringing it to your lips. Pert lips wrap around his finger, tongue swiping over leather, and you swear you can hear his breath hitch - heart clearly skipping a beat.

"Careful…" You say, leaning forward to press your tits against him, brushing away imaginary fluff from his shoulders. "I really like this costume."

"I like it too." He clears his throat. "You look nice."

"Nice? Is that all I get, Mr Ghostface?" You're teasing, tracing up his broad chest to his neck and then just under his chin. Carefully, you hook a finger under the thin strap of his mask, tugging ever-so gently.

Quickly, he stops you.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You pout, flashing him a frustrated look - and God , does he want to kiss it off of you.

"But soon?"

"If you're good." You swear you can hear him smile, hands wrapping around your waist.

You get a bit bolder, hand tracing up his sleeve, clutching at thick, corded forearm. Watching intently as he keens, pushing you to the edge of the kitchen counter with only one hand at your back. This close, you even like the way he smells, like rust and oil and earth, the way he feels around you; strong arms caging you in, protecting you. You feel safe, for some reason.

When he sighs into you, exposing a sliver of tan neck, you feel your knees go weak - unable to stop yourself from mouthing at it, pressing little kisses into the skin. He seems so sensitive, rocking into the counter for some pressure already, clutching you closer and closer until there's a hickey blooming just under sharp jawline.

"Fuck- " He hisses, pawing at your waist a little more desperately.

Suddenly self conscious, you separate with a wet smack, and inspect your handiwork.

"Shit." Eyes wide, you press a finger into the flesh. Your masked man winces. "M'sorry. Got carried away."

He heaves, placing his head on your shoulder for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

"It's fine," He strains. "Don't worry… s'fine."

Admittedly, he doesn't seem too fine, adjusting what feels like a painful hard-on beneath a loose cloak.

Cradling his head so he can look at you, you whisper something bold, even for someone who's downed more than a couple shots worth of cheap liquor.

"I know somewhere… I-I think … that we could go if you wanted to…" His head lolls, and you hear him swallow roughly. "Somewhere quiet . We'd be alone. Just us."

A beat passes and you think you might've read this wrong, much too forward for your own good. It’s why he surprises you by nodding - slowly, at first, and then with more conviction. Taking your hand, he snakes it under his mask, and you almost gasp when you feel soft, plump lips at your knuckles and palm, pressing shaky kisses to the skin.

“I need to do something first.” He says it so quietly, you almost miss it under the mask. “Where can I meet you?”

You don’t ask questions.

“Pool house.” You nod towards the windows, overlooking a sizable pool. People mill about its edges, but you know the little house is off-limits for the night. “Side entrance. They… leave it unlocked, sometimes.”

He doesn’t ask questions.

Before he goes, he snakes a hand under your skirt, giving your ass a sizable squeeze - leaving you breathless.

You don’t feel the cold as you slip out, playing with a loose thread at the hem of your skirt. The side entrance is stiff but unlocked, and you duck past a screen, head on a swivel. Like a good girl, you sit on plush cushions, thighs pressed together to relieve a pressure that has been building since you met your masked man. And you want to touch yourself; to circle that little bud with clumsy fingers, imagining it was him.

You wait. And you wait. You settle between the cushions, adjust your skirt, look at your hair through a makeshift mirror - the glossy surface of windows overlooking the pool. Not wanting to risk turning on the lights, you wander past what little streams in from across the pool; flashing and pounding with the heady bass of music. You can't help but wonder where he's gone, if he's even coming, and what he had to do so desperately that he'd leave you wanting more.

At this point, you don't even care if he takes off his mask. You don't want to know a name, or see the real man underneath the costume. You just want him; writhing underneath as you bounce on his fat cock.

"Hey."

That voice makes you jump, swiveling to face him. How did he get in without you noticing? He was so quiet, so–

"Missed you." He says it so soft, it makes you melt, walking slowly towards him. Shrouded in shadow, as you get closer you notice he's shed his cloak, donned in a white t-shirt and straight leg jeans. Big boots, thick with fresh mud, thud onto the tile. When you meet, two figures cut by bright light, you almost gasp. He's taken off the mask. Instead of Mr Ghostface, you're met with a man - and he is so, so beautiful .

Tan skin. High cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass. His hair is haphazardly slicked back, fluffy and curly in all the right places. But it's his eyes: mischievous and glinting and serious all at the same time - absolutely gorgeous. You could look at him like this forever; chest heaving, messy, out of breath.

Your hand comes to his chest. He’s hot to the touch, clasping his great big hand atop yours. Squeezing, he pulls you closer, other hand creeping up bare thigh, before hooking under your ass in a move that makes you squeal.

From this close, his lashes look so pretty; wispy and romantic and yearning.

"You look beautiful.” He doesn’t kiss you, not yet, content with only watching - studying you with sharp eyes. “Always do."

All you hear are the compliments, too tipsy to notice what the stranger implies. You're not usually one for a one night stand, but he is intoxicating - intense in a way that's hard to explain.

Carding one hand through the curls at the nape of his neck, you press your lips to his in a kiss that starts off sweet and quickly deepens. He is hungry and devouring; licking up your moans with plump lips.

You lead him to the sofa, only separating for fleeting breaths. Eyes low, illuminated by a flash of light here and there; you force yourself to concentrate on him , shuddering breaths and all. He’s hard, rocking into your lower half splayed out beneath him and arms caged around your head. It’s sly, but you snake a hand past his t-shirt, across his back and then fumble with the belt. It makes him smile, soft laughter spilling into your parted lips; before he sits up above you.

“You want it that bad, huh?” Windswept, he croons, batting away your hands to unbuckle the clasp himself.

You groan, shifting upwards. You don’t notice the way his eyes dart down, eying up the peek of thigh that spills out of little shorts.

“Say it f’me, sweetheart.” He hikes up your skirt, exposing your covered cunt. He’s gentle, pawing at the flesh, pressing the heel of his palm right above your clit.

“F-Fuck!” The pressure is delicious, and you roll your hips up, up, up; chasing some semblance of relief. When he stops, you whine - clutching at his forearm, frustrated. “Want it, please .”

“Want what?” He prompts, lifting his shirt over his head in one quick movement. You’re met with the wide span of his chest, muscle taut and tight above you.

“Want you in me. I want… I want you to fuck me ‘til I break, pound my fucking hole so hard I can feel it in the morning. I want– ”

You’re babbling, now, spurred on by the way he tugs off black shorts, lifting up your legs to slip them off. He’s too slow, clearly enjoying watching you squirm and writhe.

“You can have it, sweetheart.” He coos, before capturing you into another kiss. This time, he separates and you follow him up; finally parting with a wet smack. “I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it… but you gotta do something first.”

“ Anything .” You breathe.

“Fuck yourself, for me. I…I–”

“You like to watch.” You finish it for him, breathless.

“Please.” His head dips low; big, red-brown eyes never leaving yours.

The way he says it leaves you panting, hung off of every word. And you croon, leaning back into couch cushions, already hot at the way he kneads his thumbs to the flesh near your pussy. This close, he can see the way your cunt pulses, eating up a tiny thong between glistening lips. He’s kneeling on the floor, now, snaking his body around to get a perfect view, flashing looks between both your pretty lips.

More than willing to oblige, you pat at your clit, sending sweet pleasure coursing through your lower half. Even though your legs tremble, he holds you down, placing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. Slipping your thong to the side, you dip two fingers past your slit, gathering up slick to press carefully into your hole.

“So… so pretty. ” He sighs, not daring to close his eyes despite the pleasure he feels. When you notice how his other hand is buried in his pants; jerking up and down to match your pace. You start slow, for now, pumping two fingers in and out, heel of your palm snug against your clit. The sounds are obscene, the wet schlick-schlick ringing out in the quiet room.

“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever s-seen.” Your stranger moans, slathering over your thighs with sloppy kisses, occasionally swiping at your knuckles. Lower and lower, as you get faster and faster, his tongue makes you feel amazing. You’re close - entranced by your spot in the limelight and the sharp eyes that watch every ministration.

It’s only when you’re knuckle deep, well and truly fucking yourself ; chasing something just out of reach with his help; when two things happen, catching you by surprise. The first, the one that sends electricity down your spine, that makes you jolt and shiver and almost cum right then and there…

…is a wet kiss pressed to your asshole. He slathers and slobbers and licks large stripes up and down; ripping a great moan out from you. He doesn’t stop there, spreading the globes of your ass to delve deeper, tongue-fucking you as your hand stills - unable to concentrate on anything else. Pornographic, he humps his lower half to the same pace, sealing his mouth over your hole. With the vibrations of his moans sending pleasure straight to your clit, you finally cum - a rolling, bubbling orgasm that ends just as intensely.

The second thing that happens, just as you fall off the edge, is that you’re plunged into darkness. The lights from across the pool, once bright and flashing; are cut off. The music stops, and chatter dies down. Your stranger holds you through it, licking up cum from your neglected cunt, whispering sweet things into the skin.

“There it is, baby. Nice n’ slow.” He soothes as you whimper, hand tight in his hair.

In the dark, you’re heaving, feeling him slow down as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty. Shaky, you sit up on your haunches as he follows you up.

“Is everything…? What happened?” You’re a little panicked, shaken up from your orgasm.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. ” He rubs little circles into bare skin. “Too much?”

You shake your head, nuzzling into him. He gives your forehead a kiss, and you feel warmth bloom across your chest.

He shifts. “Just give it a…”

As if on cue, a generator whirs to life, flooding the little room in red light. Something similar seems to happen across the pool, as you take a quick glance to the window.

Your head is a little fuzzy. It aches as you catch his eye, looking at you intently.

“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to–”

“No.” You say it resolutely, with so much force it even catches you off guard. “I want to.”

“Fuck.” He mutters, brows pressed together imperceptibly.

For someone you’ve just met, he still looks at you like ice about to melt, like he’s bearing witness to the last breaths of a dying star. He looks at you like he knows you; like he knows how many half-truths and one-night stands you’ve had to endure. It makes you shiver; here, bathed in crimson light, pressed against one another.

He starts with your lips, a gentle thumb pressed flat, and then deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s like before, you realise, the taste of liquor and leather long gone. He keeps his eyes on you, careful as he pops the thumb out, groaning at the length of spit that comes with a flash of your pink tongue. You splay yourself out underneath him, drinking in the sight above; your stranger, your masked man once upon a time, shirtless and breathless and rock hard against your cunt. Now, he tugs down black boxers, its band cut across his torso just so. Thick hair; dark, curly, neatly trimmed; and you reach to trace down his happy trail, to get a hand on his pretty cock.

He just watches , eyes dark, leaning forward to rock into your soft palm and put his mouth on the skin that pillows out from a tight crop top. To give him more access, you tug it down, exposing sensitive nipple. And then that tongue; searching, inquisitive, precise; wraps itself around the flesh. You keen - a pretty moan that has his heart fluttering and eyes clasped shut.

“Inside.” At first, it’s a whisper, said in the throes of deep pleasure. You repeat it, slowing your hand at his cock.

When he doesn’t answer; still slathering at your tits, pawing the flesh that spills out from your costume; you tug, a sharp thing that has him moaning and sitting up on his haunches.

“Said I wanted you inside, baby.” You say - and his breaths are deep, his eyes are wild. “Do you want it? Do you want me?”

“A-Always….course I— ” He stops himself, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Finally, he nods and you continue, satisfied.

“Watch.” You titter, reaching down to line him up; carefully gathering slick up at the head of his cock. His tip weeps; shuddering like your stranger does above, getting close and hitching up you up to stay flush against you. His eyes stay trained downward. Inside, he mouths at your neck, groaning once his cock sinks into your fluttering hole.

There’s a tightening grip at your hips, big hands bunching up the skirt to keep you close, with a careful pressure at your clit. That sends heat coursing through your veins, tasting deep crimson in the air. He fucks; up close and humping like he wants to crawl into your skin, with a fervour you’ve never encountered before. It has you hot and sticky, desperate for that biting edge that keeps slipping from dainty fingers. You start to put a hand at your clit, tracing between your bodies when a strong hand pulls it away. Firm.

“No, no, no…” He whispers it, putting your wandering hand to his face, kissing the palm.

“Please. ” You whine. “M’close. So close.”

You feel him twitch inside, hips stuttering at your tone.

“No.” He says it again, resolute. “I’m going to make you cum. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart… just… just be patient. Please. For me .”

You’re reaching up for a kiss, of which he obliges. This time, it stays sweet; pink tongues swiped over lips.

“Look at me.” His hips shift, changing angles to hit that sweet spot like you’ve been moulded to his dick - like he knows just where to touch you to make you fall apart. “Look at me, hermosa. Ohh f-fuck, you take me so well… so pretty. You gonna milk my cock? Feels so good around me, sweetheart, like you were made for me. Like we’re ... L-Like–”

You groan, unable to tear yourself away from his writhing form: strong, lean muscles, tensing in the red light. And oh, isn’t he pretty, mere moments away from release, from spilling thick cum inside you.

“M’gonna–”

“I know, I know, hermosa. ” You like the way he says it, rolling off his tongue like honey; treacled and sweet. “Cum f’me, sweetheart. Want to feel you clamp around my cock. Cum for me. ”

And just like that, you’re gone; nails digging into his back as you careen off a steep cliff’s edge. Your stranger quickly follows, pulling out to wrap a tight hand around the base of his cock, spilling onto your stomach as you clench around nothing.

You’re whining, getting ready to complain; why hasn’t he come inside? why doesn’t he want to stay?; when he stills, settling by your side. Propped up by one arm, he crouches down to stroke at your cheek, to touch your jaw, moving your head this way and that - as if he’s looking for something hidden behind bright eyes.

In the red of the emergency lights, you suppose you’re looking for something too. A beat passes, and then another. The generator splutters, whirring and coughing. The lights turn off; replaced by the noise and white lights from across the pool.

So lost in one another, you hadn’t quite noticed; everything else falling away.

He clears his throat, clambering off of the sofa and tugging up his trousers. Quickly, he returns, a bundle of towels draped across his bare shoulders, and then he wipes off the cum - gently, separating sweaty limbs. Your costume is more or less intact, but you’re unable to do more than just lay there. He’s diligent and patient, not in any sort of rush. When you sit up, he pulls on a shirt, kneeling by your legs to play with a loose thread at your skirt. Too intimate, you suppose. With his head on your lap, you don’t think you care.

“We should leave.” You say it first, what’s been left in the air for someone else to pick apart.

“We should.”

“Can’t leave together.” You say simply, curling a hand in his hair.

Humming, he looks up lazily, with a hint of a smile. “You go first.”

Neither of you make a move to get up.

“Mr Ghostface,” You start, giggling. “What happened to your mask?”

“Lost it.” He’s cryptic. Finally, he stands.

Your stranger stretches out a rough palm, and you take it, getting up on shaky legs. You almost collapse onto his chest, but he’s there; solid, stoic. Looking up, and it catches you off guard: the intensity of his stare, how he watches in a way that makes you feel stripped bare.

“You first.” He repeats, still holding on.

He’s pretty. Of course he is, but the shadow and light makes his features even more pronounced. In the quiet, you take the opportunity to catch him off guard; standing on tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Jaw tight, he doesn’t react the way you want him to: ever-still, passive. Fuck. You’ve read it wrong: not used to the intensity of this kind of foray. After all: a one night stand seems too reductive, doesn’t quite span the depths and furrows of how your stranger has taken you apart. Finally, you leave the strange man still standing in the pool house. You don’t dare to look, but you can feel him; the weight of his stare at your back.

You can feel his hands, too; the ghost of his touch lingering as you make your way back to the house, mingling with the crowd.

~~~

You don’t tell your friends. You make your back home after the party, bundled into a taxi with a hand tight around your own wrist. It doesn’t feel like his hand on yours - not even close.

“I didn’t actually fuck him yesterday!” Your friend tugs on your sleeve, giggling into your shoulder as she recounts her night. A debrief with the girls turns into hungover breakfast-bleeding-into-lunch at your dorm. They’re bundled onto the sheets, some eating greasy takeout and others nursing bludgeoning headaches.

You’re fine, mostly. A little bit of liquid courage, but your hangover pales in comparison to some - catatonic on your rug and scrolling through their phone in a limbo-like state.

“You didn’t fuck him, but you wanted to.” Someone pipes up, and the conversation devolves into raucous laughter.

You laugh, tucked into yourself. The wonders of a half-dozen sophomores during Halloween - able to grin despite the shit storm that’s been mounting. Campus killers notwithstanding - they make you smile, at least.

“Were you there towards the end?” Someone asks, poking an elbow at your side. “When there was that blackout?”

You nod, simply - not trusting yourself to say more.

“I-I mean…” Her voice is suddenly shaky, thrusting a phone into your unsuspecting hands. “Well… they’re saying it must have happened then, or around that time.”

You squint, confused.

“And it could’ve been anyone, I suppose. There were like, what, a hundred people there? More? ”

“What?”

“A body. They found a body - by the pool house, or something…”

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #kinktober #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #kat_writes😼

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sykosugu · 1 month

Text

on the run | prologue

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go. a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ currently: completed

♡ taglist: closed

♤ wc: 1.4 k (they will get longer I promise)

♢ carlile speaks: hi everyone! welcome! I was working on chapter one, and the mood boards (yes boards, there are two more bc I'll do anything to avoid writing even though I love doing it) and this idea popped in to kind of give you a beginning thought as to how they officially met. But chapter one is coming! enjoy this little insight, and I know it definitely is little right now!

you are here | next part

Seventy seconds. That’s all you had until the silent alarm blared at the local police station. But lucky for you, you only need thirty of those seconds to get what you needed. A simple in and out procedure was always how you operated.

In through the front door, dressed to impress. A Bag under your arm and an umbrella in your hand. The umbrella is the key. Literally.

Bank managers always approach you from first entry, wanting to impress someone who looks so lavish; we must keep our high end customers happy. You’re led to the safety deposit room, with the intent of placing your precious jewels into a box.

Until the handle of the umbrella is twisted and a knife is drawn.

The knife held to the manager's throat while he opened every single box he could in the 30 second time span. But you know exactly which boxes to open. You've been surveying this area for weeks now. Camera hacking. One of your specialties. Every customer who entered this room in the last month, you’d seen and known what to take. Totally under wraps; never to be seen until the job needed done.

When the managers think they can overpower a girl like yourself, the gun stashed in your waistband makes its appearance, deftly putting the men in their places.

This was always how you operated. Never the cash; always the safety deposit boxes. Sometimes the items placed inside were of monetary value, but some were of unmatched value; precious family heirlooms that could get ransomed for way more than any cash vault would hold. That’s always what you were after. Sometimes, jewels were involved and that was a plus. A girl can never have too many diamonds. They are your best friends after all. But the ransomed heirlooms, some of kings and queens of the corporate world: that was your MO. You were the Red Queen.

Were.

Suguru was not something you’d anticipated. Suguru was your biggest flaw. He was now your weakness. But he was also the enemy.

He’d been tracking you for months; been minutes from you so many times. You were his biggest project that he’d never been able to get his hands on. You were a myth at this point. Never actually seen, except by the bank managers who were never able to give a good enough description.

“She had big sunglasses, bright red lipstick and a killer smile.”

He knew that much. That was it.

Until now.

He had you.

You walked out five seconds too late.

He had you.

A hand harshly grips the back of your upper arm, spinning you around. Your fist instinctively reaches up, elbow colliding with the person in question; a cracking sound fills the air as your arm connects with their face. You’d successfully knocked their head back. Killing was never your objective when it came to defending yourself, a body leads to problems. You don’t have time for problems. Suguru’s used to combat though, with gritted teeth he takes the blow. Cracking his neck, his other hand reaches to grasp your other arm, flinging you down onto his car's hood as pedestrians continue on their day. Most stop for the show, but others see the badge hanging from his neck and don’t question anything. Your back comes in contact with the car, your head bouncing off the surface; ears ringing from the loud bang. Your arms are braced in front of you as you feel the handcuffs being placed around your hands.

He had you.

Nobody could ever get you. You were like a ghost in the nighttime; but he found you out. Who was this guy? Why does it kind of turn you on? But it also definitely terrifies you.

“We finally meet,” he grins down at you. “I’m Detective Geto, and you’ve been my biggest foe for almost a year,” You just stare back at him. “But you can call me Suguru.”

You were in the back of his car in minutes. Hands cuffed in front of you while he stared at you in the rearview mirror. Unbeknownst to you until now, he’d lied about catching you. He said you’d gotten away again.

He watched you walk into the bank this time. He was the one who was ahead. He finally had the upper hand.

And he liked it.

“No, sir. She got away again.” you heard him say flatly in the front seat. “Yes, sir, I get that but if–” he stops, pressing his thumb and pointer finger into his eyes. “Sir, if i can just speak for a minute,” you can hear yelling through the speaker, but no words can be made out.

Why isn't he telling him you’re right here? What is going on?

“Sir, I had her. She got away. I’ll get her again.,” he pauses again, “Yes sir, I understand. Thank you, Chief. I got it. I’ll handle it. Thank you.”

He’ll handle what? What is happening?

Suguru’s eyes catch yours in the mirror. “You’ve been eluding me for the longest time, Y/N. Or should I say The Red Queen.”

“Call me Ruby. I don’t use that name anymore,” you mutter. Unsure why you’re even responding. What does he want with you? He lied about you to his boss.

“Ruby,” he swirls the name around his tongue, “Pretty,” and he’s starting the car.

“Where are you taking me?” you question, fingers reaching down to pull one of the bobby pins from your boot. You’re always prepared.

“Even if you free yourself, the doors are locked,” he smirks at you in the mirror. You catch his gaze, offering him a glare. “I’m not a threat to you. Not right now.”

What the hell does that mean?

“You’re literally a cop, and you’re not telling me where you’re taking me.”

“I just want to talk to you before I decide what to do next,” his eyes fixed on the road again. You notice the white in his knuckles from gripping the steering wheel so hard. He’s nervous. You could use that to your advantage. Wherever he was taking you, you were going to use your biggest asset: yourself; to get what you needed.

Your freedom. Your biggest job was coming up soon, and you needed to be prepared.

This cop obviously had an attraction towards you. If only he wasn’t a cop, you could entertain the thought of a relationship if he hadn’t been. But honestly, it would probably hold you back.

“Where are we going? Why did you lie? What’s going on?”

“So many questions, Ruby. Live a little,” he chuckles at you. Was this guy insane? A cop isnt taking the opportunity to turn you in? He’d be decorated for the rest of his life.

“Live a little? Do you hear yourself? You said I’d been eluding you for nearly a year, why arent you taking me in? Don’t you want the accolades? Detective Geto takes down the Red Queen,”

“Thought you didn’t go by that name anymore?” He questions, a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t,” you grumble. “But word obviously hasn’t spread yet,” your eyes roll.

“Besides, I'd rather get to know you first,” he says nonchalantly.

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe. But you are too,” he eyes you, making your face redden like your lipstick.

“You don't know anything about me,” you bite out at him. Who does this guy think he is?

“I do,” he states matter of factly. He states your full name. Your fake secured social security number. The list of aliases you use to book hotels, rental cars whatever you needed. He knew what he needed to know. But after seeing you in person, he needed to know more.

He put two and two together based off your appearance. A long black Chanel coat. Big black sunglasses. Dark red lips. The umbrella.

He just knew it was you. He watched you walk into the bank.

“Count to thirty,” he thinks to himself. He’d studied your tactics. He knew them like the back of his hand.

And waited. You were late. One. Two. Three. This might actually happen for him. Four. He’s sweating. Five. You’re here. You’re right here. If he just reaches out—

And now here he was, you in the back of his car driving you to his safe house.

Where he’d get to know what he wanted—needed—to know.

He would figure out a way to know everything.

♧ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl

(pls make sure your settings are right to get tagged!)

#jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto smut #suguru geto #suguru x you #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you

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ozzgin · 8 months

Note

I love your work! It is so hard to find good Baki writers. Could you please do a Yujiro x Female fighter reader. I feel like Yujiro would actually start falling head over heels with a reader who fights well and is as sadistic as him.

Thank you! And yes, realistically speaking - or at least what makes most sense in my opinion - Yuujirou would go for someone that not only is submissive to him (because any human would then suffice), but also shows impressive skill and strength. There’s an interesting idea that I once read in the introduction of “The Gates of Janus”, the book written by serial killer Ian Brady. The foreword author argued that Ian is what you’d call a rat king, an alpha above most alphas, and that for such personalities, most of the time, an equally dominant woman is sought for as a partner. Naturally she’d submit to him still, but only a woman of high dominance could keep up with this kind of intense character. This mentality felt a bit outdated and potentially misogynistic to me, but I think it really fits in the case of Yuujirou. Sorry for the ramble.

Yandere! Yuujirou Hanma x Fighter! Reader

Featuring The Ogre and a female reader that nearly matches him in strength and ruthlessness. TW: Dubious consent, violence.

[Baki Masterlist]

Yuujirou can have anyone in the world, whether man or woman. It’s not up to them, really. It’s up to his mood and whims. And when he can have just about anyone, actually finding someone worth his interest becomes a difficult task. He doesn’t need an extra weight to drag around and as far as he’s concerned, commitment is not something he requires in his life. What would be the point?

No, for someone of his status, commitment doesn’t come as moral etiquette or requirement for a relationship. He has considered it, and in theory it could only be offered out of his genuine interest and never demanded by someone else. For The Ogre himself to fixate on one person and never wander eyes anywhere else… They would really have to impress him. Guarantee him that this is a one time deal never to be found again. And once that person is found, they’d do well to perform their role as his partner because there is no way out of it.

Lamentably, such temptation has never crossed his path. That is until a feminine figure strides into the ring of the Underground Arena. Yuujirou is ready to burst with laughter, but he’s quickly silenced by the rather abrupt end of the match. The mysterious character remains unfazed by the opponent’s blow and uses the opportunity to swiftly twist and crush the offensive limb. With the same indifference plastered on the face throughout the agonizing wails of the much larger man, she delivers her ending move and within seconds the arena is quiet again. After recollecting himself from this unexpected succession, Yuujirou turns to Strydum that’s been watching with similar amazement. “Who the hell is that?” He grunts. “I don’t know. Should I find out?”

Sometimes Yuujirou will replay the encounter in his head. He still gets shivers of raw excitement whenever he remembers your eyes back then. That utterly defiant glare. Strydum had asked you to meet them in private and as you entered the room, you immediately demanded to know why you’d been summoned. The Colonel begun fumbling in terror, almost begging you indirectly to not upset the redheaded man. “M-Mr. Hanma wished to see you, Miss (Y/N)-“ he was interrupted by your resounding snarl. “And who the fuck is Mr. Hanma to afford such audacity?” At that moment Yuujirou stood up, hands in pockets but visibly tensed up. You instinctively clenched your fists and frowned at the unspoken difference in power. The Ogre was halfway expecting you to fold and apologize, but after a minute your expression relaxed and your confidence returned. “Bitch. You’d rather die than give up your pride, huh?” He smirked at the thought. There was something about your attitude that greatly pissed him off but also turned him on at the same time.

The hardest part is getting you to accept him as your partner. See, Yuujirou will never beg or ask nicely. On the other hand, he’d rather not kill you, and severely damaging you in any way would take away the fun that caught his attention in the first place. That’s the dilemma: you’re stubborn and he can’t use force. Then again it’s not like he’s a mindless brute. Quite the opposite, only if he feels like it. A little charm with a dash of intimidation and you should be convinced, right? Don’t push it, (Y/N). If he really has to choose, he’d rather have you dead than belonging to someone else. It’s either him or nothing.

Really, it’s to your advantage if you learn to behave. He can give you everything you desire. He’s rather experienced in spoiling his women, and for you he’ll go the extra mile. Knowing he tamed you of all people is all the payment he could ever ask for. The satisfaction of putting you in your place, of having you cling to him fills him with greedy pride. A cocky smile distorts his features whenever the realization hits. If there’s such a thing as a soulmate, he’s found his. Although he doesn’t believe in that kind of bullshit.

A frightening pair in the eyes of most people. The Ogre relishes in the fact that displaying you as his woman has further increased his reputation instead of signaling any trace of weakness. As the time passes his conviction only strengthens: there’s no other place for you. You’re all his. Yet his favorite detail, what makes him flushed and dazed and addicted, is that no matter what he does to you as you lay there sprawled, naked, broken, your dignity never leaves. That prideful gaze that leers back at him makes him feel like he’s facing a mirror.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki headcanons #yandere #yandere baki #baki x reader #yujiro hanma #yujiro hanma x reader #yuujirou hanma #hanma yujiro #yandere x reader

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seireitonin · 2 months

Text

I said this on TikTok before but I think the funniest thing about ppl trying to make Toby an unfeeling cold hearted asshole is that the UWU waffles Toby is closer to his canon personality. Of course that portrayal has issues too bc ppl made him too childish and infantilized him especially bc he has ADHD (this is coming from someone with ADHD) but that’s a different conversation.He’s “upbeat and obnoxious but also a jerk. He can be kind to certain people though” so yeah he’s a happy guy but has mood swings and only really cares about people in his close circle. So ig he can be on both ends of the spectrum of happy and upbeat to cold cruel killer and that’s what I love about him!!! He can be written to be so complex and interesting!!! His humor is cruel like pranking ppl till they cry or annoying the fuck outtta ppl. Honestly besides the whole murdering part he’s probably chill but frustrating to be to be around LMAOOO (also I feel like I write Toby too gloomy sometimes but that’s because I’m emo and when I write upbeat stuff it doesn’t sound right LMAOOO I’m 2 angsty for this world/ hj) but I like to write him and upbeat and gloomy bc realistically if you had every disorder he has you’re just not gonna be upbeat all the time bc they affect you and that’s just the truth. I speak from experience on that. Me and Toby do share some disorders and I’m really upbeat most of the time but my disorders can make me moody/ gloomy/ etc anyway rambling over!!!

(Kastoways post about his canon personality under the cut :3 obviously it’s old but it still applies also adding some old “ask Toby questions” from kastoways DA to show how he talks/ interacts w ppl. Feel free to add to it!!! Bc there’s more posts about his canon personality. I’m so normal about Toby guys and omg Toby’s about to be 30)

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta fandom #ticci toby headcanons #crp #ticci toby hc #ticci toby hcs #ticci toby #creepypasta ticci toby #ticci toby creepypasta

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in1-nutshell · 2 months

Note

I know request are closed so just add this to the bottom of the list for whenever you see it.

TFP Megatron's daughter with MTMTE Megatron.

this feels like the kinda thing that would hurt him, knowing that in one universe he was lucky enough to have a daughter as smart and kind as buddy and he hurt her.

have a nice day hope you drink water

This is a pair that I have thought about if they ever met. Buddy is now going to have to meet another Megatron. But don't worry she's not alone!

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality meeting MTMTE Megatron

SFW, Platonic, Familial, slight angst, Cybertronain reader

TFP/MTMTE

In MTMTE…

Brainstorm was bored.

So, he started to work on one of the projects he had been putting off for a while.

A dimension to an alternate universe, even different than theirs!

He was just about to turn it on when Perceptor came in.

“Brainstorm have you seen Nautica? I have her data—what in Primus’s name are you doing?!”--Perceptor

Brainstorm hanging upside down trying to reach a button to turn on the machine that was slightly smoking.

“Oh! Percy! You’re just in time! I was going to push the button—”--Brainstorm

Perceptor trying to reach Brainstorm.

“There will be no pushing—”--Perceptor

Brainstorm pushes the button.

“BOOP!”—Brainstorm

Machine starts whirling up.

“It’s working!”--Brainstorm

In TFP…

Buddy was walking with Miko on her shoulder.

They had gone to go get some arts and crafts from one of the empty rooms in the base.

Something about a human holiday coming up.

When the portal opened.

“OH, PRIMUS NOT AGAIN!”--Buddy

Buddy dropping the boxes trying to grab Miko and something else to not go into the portal.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN?!”--Miko

“EXPLAIN LATER! BULKHEAD! OPTIMUS! ULTRA MAGNUS! RATCHET!”--Buddy

Miko slips through Buddy’s grip.

“BUDDY!”--Miko

Buddy jumps at Miko, covering her entire body as they both get swallowed by the portal.

In MTMTE…

Brainstorm was wrestling with Perceptor when two figures came out of the portal.

The portal shut leaving the machine slightly smoking.

There was no way anyone was going to turn that thing on and not have it potentially exploding in their faces.

Miko groaning a bit t the rough landing.

She is on a lab table.

Buddy is hanging upside down tangled up in a bunch of wires.

“Oh! Hello!”--Brainstorm

Brainstorm lightly pokes Miko who just looks at these two new bots.

“Hey! Leave her alone!”--Buddy

Buddy is struggling to get out of the wires to get to Miko.

“Relax!”--Brainstorm

Brainstorm presses a button to release the wires.

Buddy falls face first on the floor.

Brainstorm, Miko, and Perceptor wince hearing the sudden noise.

Perceptor helps Buddy up.

“My apologies. I know you two may have some questions in where—”--Perceptor

“We’re a different universe or dimension.”--Buddy

Brainstorm’s wings go up.

“Have you done that before?!”--Brainstorm

“Against my will, yes. This is Miko’s first time.”--Buddy

“Who are you guys?”--Miko

“My name is Brainstorm! I’m actually the mech who brought you two here with my machine. This is my partner Perceptor! Don’t mind him, he’s more of a mood killer.”--Brainstorm

Percepor sends him a glare.

“So, you’re the bot who brought us here? What about getting us back?”--Buddy

“Haven’t gotten to that part yet, but eventually we’ll get there!”--Brainstorm

Perceptor offers his servo for Miko to climb on.

She does and gets passed to Buddy.

Buddy refuses to let her down on the ground.

The two scientists briefly explain where the pair had ended up as they go to the med bay for any internal injuries.

Ratchet nearly has a stroke seeing a human and new bot in the med bay.

Buddy and Miko know immediately who Ratchet is. He isn’t too far from the Ratchet they were used to.

Brainstorm and Perceptor had to leave the pair with Ratchet while they went back to the lab to see if the machine was all right after a warning alert came online.

After explaining how the pair got there and nearly putting Ratchet in cardiac arrest, they get a clean bill of health.

“Hey Ratchet. Brainstorm and Percy over there said the war was over in this universe. Is that true?”--Miko

“Yes. Thankfully its been over for a bit. Has…”-Ratchet

“Our’s isn’t over yet…”--Buddy

Ratchet gives them an sympathetic smile.

Someone slams the door open.

Buddy grabs Miko and keeps her close to her chassis.

“Hey Doc-bot! I need you to settle an argue—”--Whirl

Whirl looks at Buddy and Miko.

“…”--Everyone

Whirl looks at Ratchet.

“Brainstorm?”--Whirl

“Brainstorm.”--Ratchet

Whirl steps closer slightly menacing to the pair.

Buddy straightens up, and tightens grip on Miko.

“So what do we have here? Another minibot and a fleshy.”--Whirl

“If you call me fleshy, can I call you a computer?”--Miko

Buddy wants to scream at Miko for trying to antagonize the larger mech.

Whirl blinks and steps closer.

Buddy glares at him hard.

Don’t. touch. Her.”--Buddy

“…All right! I have to give it to you both. Steal bearings.”--Whirl

Whirl scoops both Buddy and Miko up to his chassis.

“I’ll give you two the Lost Light tour with all the helpful commentary.”--Whirl

Buddy looks over at Ratchet who looks very tired but gives a ‘Your-safe-with-him’ smile.

Buddy can only hope so.

By the time Whirl gets to Swerve, Miko and him have already made a blood pact and have several ideas on overthrowing those who have wronged them.

Whirl swears he has found his Amica from another dimension.

Buddy is just trying to take everything in while also accessing any and all dangers onboard this ship.

It was much bigger than anything she had ever seen back home.

Even bigger than the Nemesis.

“—Then Megs and him nearly—”--Whirl

Buddy turns to him so fast he thinks she might have broken her neck cables.

“Megs? As in Megatron? He is here? On this ship!?”--Buddy

“Yeah? Oh yeah you two mentioned something about your war still going on.”--Whirl

“Yeah.”--Miko

“How come you two haven’t talked about it?”--Whirl

“Its better to tell a whole group so we don’t have to go through the whole story again and again.”--Buddy

“Kinda like your name?”--Miko

Buddy sighing heavily.

“Yep.”--Buddy

“Wait what is your designation, Tiny?”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Buddy

Whirl stops momentarily.

“Buddy? What kind of name is that? Did your Caregivers want you to get picked on?”--Whirl

Buddy winces a bit while Miko flicks his armor a bit.

“Oh! Soft spot. Got it, but you might as well tell now before anyone else knows.”--Whirl

Buddy gives him a dead glare.

“All right, all right, no spoilers.”--Whirl

“But back to Megatron—”--Buddy

“Hey look we’re here.”--Whirl

It was after hours, meaning not many mechs were in.

Just most of the mech whirl associated himself with.

As usual, Whirl made his grand entrance in the bar.

Not many bots paid attention to him thinking he was just being Whirl.

Buddy’s anxiety was going up seeing all the energon out.

She worried for Miko’s safety and kept her close.

Miko didn’t object to the closeness, remembering what happened to Raf.

Hopefully this universe didn’t have a variant of dark energon.

“Hey Swerve! Look who I got.”--Whirl

Swerve turning around.

“Whirl if its Rewind and Tailgate—”--Swerve

His optics land on Buddy and Miko in his cockpit.

“H-How—what—huh?”--Swerve

Buddy is trying to ease the tension as Whirl places her and Miko on one of the bar stools and takes a seat himself.

“Hi, I’m Buddy and this is Miko. We are from another dimension and—”--Buddy

Swerve proceeds to fanboy about humans to Miko and asks a thousand questions where the two are trying to answer.

Swerve’s increase in chatter brought attention to the rest of the bars patrons to the new guest.

Some even comm in their friends to come and see the new commers from another dimension.

Buddy seemed to have relaxed a bit at all the friendly bots around her and Miko.

Miko was having the time of her life.

She let some of the more curious bots who had never seen a human before holding her on the condition that they tell her goofy stories.

Whirl had offered to take her to the gun range, which Buddy immediately shot down.

Eventually Ultra Magnus came in with Rodimus following behind.

The pair had heard from Ratchet, Brainstorm and Perceptor about their new visitors and had to meet them.

Magnus had messaged Megatron to come as soon as his evening class was done.

Magnus had never seen a human or a bot so happy to see him before.

What is this feeling?

They were excited… to see him?

Not Rodimus… just him?

That’s when Megatron came in with the rest of the Rod Squad.

Buddy felt her entire world come to a halt.

She knew well that this Megatron was not hers.

She knew that she should have any harsh feelings for the mech that she barely knew.

…that didn’t stop her servos from shaking and everything start to blur.

Miko was quick to recognize that Buddy was starting to freak out and saw why.

And she wouldn’t blame Buddy for freaking out.

This Megatron was a whole category by himself, easily.

Their Megatron wouldn’t stand a chance against this giant mech.

Miko went to grab Buddy’s servo when she noticed something in her pocket.

The Apex Armor!

How did she even forget this!?

Miko activates the armor and jumps off the counter causing multiple mechs to scream and try to grab her.

She activates the armor now standing roughly average height in front of Buddy.

“DID THE FLESHY CYBERFORM?!”--Brainstorm

“WHAT JUST HAPPENED!?”--Tailgate

“THAT’S MY FURTURE AMICA!”--Whirl

Miko stares straight at Megatron as if daring him to make the first move.

Rodimus comes between her and Megatron.

“Woah, woah, woah. First nice form and all that needs explaining. Two I heard about your war still going on, but this Megatron here, he’s reformed.”--Rodimus

Buddy pats Miko on the shoulder from the bar.

They both look at each other, having an in-depth understanding.

Buddy gets down on the floor and walks towards the hulking giant, staring at the red Autobot badge.

She takes out her servo.

“My name is Buddy. Its… its good to see you Megatron.”—Buddy

Miko was silently cheering for Buddy’s bravery.

She even managed to get Megatron to sit down with the rest of the patrons.

That’s when the two of them agree to finally, fully, talk about their universe.

Starting with Buddy’s origins.

Just hearing about Buddy being Pre-war Megatron’s daughter floored everyone.

Megatron exe. Has stopped working please try again later.

He… he has a sparkling in another universe?

That’s great—wait… they were still at war…

Something was wrong…

The story started out with much understanding about the Senate’s power-hungry ideas and how hard it was to keep a sparkling.

Everyone, despite knowing what happens generally with the Senate meeting, is on edge.

Everyone is quiet when Buddy starts to describe her life on the Nemesis.

There are some glares to Megatron, but then they remember its other dimension Megatron that they need to get angry at.

Megatron has a neutral face while Buddy describes her time on the Nemesis.

Miko grabs her servo when the worst bits come up.

Several bots get up to give Buddy a hug during the explanation.

Some just stay there hugging.

Miko eventually tells her position with meeting Team Prime to try and make things as chronological as they could.

Once the pair is done, it’s silent.

Megatron looks over at Buddy.

“Buddy… I know that you are not my sparkling. But at the same time, you are. I want to tell you that the actions of my counterpart do not speak for other alternatives. I am sorry that you were hurt this way by him. I know that may not—”--Megatron

Buddy dives in and hugs his waist.

Megatron freezes before slowly placing his servo on Buddy’s back.

“You don’t need to apologize. You’re not him. You have a chance at peace and to make something great out of it. I am so proud of you for that Megatron. He… he would take peace and spit in your face. The point I’m trying to say is… thanks dad.”—Buddy

Buddy looks back at him.

She gives a small smile.

He gives a weak one back.

Miko is cheering in the background.

For the next several days the duo stays on the Lost Light waiting for the machine to get fixed.

Swerve thankfully got his servos on some human necessities for Miko while she stayed.

They had a blast with everyone on the ship.

Megatron and Buddy were nearly inseparable.

Megatron silently swears if he sees his counterpart that caused so much pain to this sparkling, he is going to meet his end. Or at least get the beating of a lifetime.

Soon enough it’s time for the two to leave.

The goodbyes are long and tearful.

Miko hugs Whirl’s neck as he tries his best to not tear up.

“If you ever end up in my universe you know who to call, okay?”--Miko

“Got that right Fleshy.”--Whirl

“I’m gonna miss you, you oversized can opener.”--Miko

Buddy and Megatron exchanging some words before giving one last hug.

“Bye everyone!”—Buddy and Miko

Buddy and Miko, in the Apex armor, go through the portal.

Menawhile in TFP…

Buddy shoots out the portal and straight into the wall.

“Why… I swear its every single time…”--Buddy

Miko lands doing a back flip.

“That was fun!”--Miko

Buddy falling back on the floor.

“Speak for yourself.”--Buddy

“MIKO!? BUDDY?!”--Bulkhead

Thunderous pedes start coming their way.

“Miko how do you feel about house arrest?”--Buddy

“…You think if we contact the Lost Light again, we’ll escape it?”--Miko

Pedesteps are getting louder.

“Not likely. Do what I do. Accept your fate without resistance.”--Buddy

The door gets torn off its hinges as Tema Prime comes pouring in.

“Nice knowing you Miko.”--Buddy

“Same to you Buddy.”--Miko

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #mtmte x reader #mtmte x platonic reader #tfp miko #mtmte megatron #mtmte whirl

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 year

Text

Unnecessary

(Spencer Reid x fem!reader)

Summary: In which BAU fem!reader silently suffers an unnecessary heartbreak over Spencer Reid’s “crush” on Agent Seaver.

WARNING: little angst, a nice fluff at the end <3

"Oh my god! You do think she's pretty!" Penelope squealed on what surprisingly seemed to be both a whisper and a shout as she walked alongside Spencer.

"I didn't say that. In fact, I didn't say anything." Spencer defended, clutching the strap of his messenger bag as he held himself back from glancing at your direction. He fought the redness to flow on his cheeks, averting his eyes at every possible object except Penelope's.

Derek immediately turned to you with a pitiful gaze. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, shrugging his concerns off. You never meant for him to find out. Emily and Derek were very different from each other and there were a good amount of people between them in your contacts, but it never stopped you from sending him your confession, thinking that you had sent it to Emily as you fell into a weightless slumber.

Nothing could describe your feeling when you found out the next morning, reading his reply:

—well, that's an interesting way to finally start a conversation that's not about work.

The sun and moon were dragged down to earth when you begged him to keep his flirty little mouth shut or you wouldn't hesitate to take him as your first deranged kill.

"You like her!" Penelope added, pushing Spencer's scrawny build with such force he almost flew down the small flight of stairs. “Is it her beautiful eyes? She has pretty eyes. I gotta hand her that. I like her eyes.”

You managed to hold your breath, gripping the file in your hand, your knuckles turning white. You didn't hate Penelope. You love her with all your heart and soul and reason that she didn't know anything about your massive attraction to Spencer. You love her sweet smile, amorous words, and eccentricity, but you wanted to push her down the stairs at that moment. You wanted her to stop talking.

"Alright, now, babygirl. Enough torturing pretty boy. We have a plane to catch." Derek wrapped an arm around Penelope's shoulder and you were certain that he meant she was torturing you rather than the boy genius.

Penelope knitted her brows, "What? You never defended Reid about this kinds of stuff. You know something and you will tell me this instant." She pointed her fluffy pen towards him like a knife.

You walked around them, fighting the urge to scowl or show any type of emotion, at all. What made your mood worst was when you had to share the elevator with Spencer. Emily was with the two of you, but still, it was suffocating just the same.

"A serial killer's daughter? That's gotta be the biggest risk this team has taken." Emily crossed her arms on her chest as she sighed.

"I'm sure she's just as capable as all of us. Hotch wouldn't have approved it if she wasn't any help to the team." Spencer replied, a little too fast than you would've preferred. You were thankful to stand behind them, having the ability to hide your sullen face.

You couldn't help but agree with Spencer. Despite the sinking feeling that hurled in the pit of your stomach, your logical reasoning never failed to keep you away from irrationality. It felt like you were stabbing yourself, though.

Emily looked behind you, "What do you think?"

A weak smile rolled over your lips, swallowing the lump of nothing that sat in your throat. "I think fresh eyes are always helpful." Just not Seaver’s oh so beautiful eyes. Of course, you couldn’t say the last part. You would’ve sounded like an idiot.

"Yeah," Spencer stated defensively. "Having a combination gene that's vulnerable to schizophrenia doesn't mean you'll develop one."

"Reid, I'm not saying she's a serial killer." Emily let her arms fall on her sides, giving him a worried look.

Spencer sighed, finally letting go of his suffocated bag strap. "I know... I just think it's unfair." He gave her a tight-lipped smile, and you wanted to embrace him even if he wasn’t directly talking to you.

Emily snorted, "I guess Garcia is right. You do like Seaver—" She shut her mouth at the realization of your presence. Sometimes she just couldn't hold her tongue and today was one of the days she wanted to chop them off.

She glanced at you with an apologetic smile, but you dismissed it with a silent laugh. It was making you tired. The act of smiling or laughing their guilty looks off. The ache was starting to swell.

In your opinion, it was plainly stupid. Your feelings for Spencer, that is. After joining the BAU as one of the youngest member of the team, you immediately felt drawn to Spencer. Of course, it was a form of friendship at first, but as they say, girls develop faster than boys. It wasn't accurate. You knew that. But it applied just the same.

You quickly got off when the elevator dinged open, turning to face the two of them. "Forgot something in my apartment. I'll see you at the jet!" You waved with the happiest smile you could muster and ran to your car.

The moment you sat on the driver's seat and buckled up, tears fell like a dam crumbling down. You didn't know why it hurt you. It wasn't like you told Spencer how you felt. He was ever oblivious contrary to his IQ.

It wasn't a big deal, you badly wanted it not to be. Spencer simply felt relatable to Ashley. That was understandable, reasonable. And you, of all people, understood it very well. It wasn't like Spencer declared his undying love for her. But you just couldn't help but feel jealous and depressed.

A hand covered your mouth as you fought the sobs that escaped your lips. You couldn't blame anyone, not even yourself. And that was the most painful part. No one to get mad at. No one to curse.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Stop gawking." You muttered as you watched the rapid residential image slide in and out of your vision.

Derek scoffed, "I'm not gawking."

You sat up straight on the passenger seat and turned to him. "Your stare can bore holes on my head." You said unimpressively, leaning your head against the headrest.

Hotch assigned the two of you to visit the family of the victim, and as if you didn't just bawled on your way to the airport, you nodded. You were silently thankful for everyone to leave you alone. Granted, you worked with profilers, but they didn't need their skills to notice the redness and puffiness under your eyes.

"Okay fine." Derek glanced at you then back to the road. "But you have to stop acting like you're okay."

You snorted a laugh, much to his dismay and confusion. "That's the thing, though, isn't it? I have to be okay. I need to do my job and it's not like he did something wrong. There's nothing to be not okay about." You sighed, pushing your hair to the back of your head.

"Garcia was just teasing him, anyways. Reid probably doesn't think Seaver's a woman." He attempted to joke, anticipating for a genuine smile or laugh from your end.

"It's fine, Morgan. I know I'm not exactly the first girl a guy would land his eyes on in a room full of people. Reid's a guy through and through, 187 IQ or not. And Seaver is pretty. I'm not going to lie about that. I know how to appreciate beauty when I see it." You sighed, shoulders faltering as you stared straight on the road to keep yourself from showing any emotions.

The SUV stopped, Derek turning off the engine as you glance at the house in front of you. "Then, maybe it's time for you to tell him how you feel." He said, looking straight at you.

"And what?" You unbuckled your seatbelt, avoiding his gaze. "Jeopardize the team's workplace? Ruin Spencer and I's distant relationship? Or get cut off the team by Strauss for fraternizing? It's not that easy Derek." You covered your face with your hands, gulping the tears that were threatening to slide down your cheeks.

"To get yourself some clarity." Derek placed a hand on your shoulder. You removed your hands and looked at his assuring smile. "You can't let the darkness bury you, Bambi. You have to let it go at some point.” He squeezed your shoulder lightly before he added, “And you’re a beautiful woman. Don’t ever think otherwise."

You smiled at his gentle use of his choice of nickname for you. He has called you “bambi” for years and at some point, it grew into you. Despite his flirty tendencies, Derek was a great guy and he has been the closest thing to a brother you could ever find.

"Who knew Mr. Playboy gives love advice?" You kidded, a playful smirk appearing on your face.

Derek rolled his eyes and tapped your shoulder before stepping out of the car.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

As soon as the jet landed, you immediately strode out of it. You got the approval from Hotch to head straight home, despite having three more hours left on clock.

What you didn't expect was for Spencer to follow you, scream your name, and hold your wrist. You stood dumbfounded in front of him.

"Reid..." You trailed off, not entirely sure what you wanted to say to him.

Spencer gasped for air, one hand on his chest and the other held your wrist, afraid to let you go. Usually, you would've panicked inside your head and blew up from the hotness of your cheeks, but not right now. Right now, you felt like throwing up. You felt nauseous at the bare sight of him.

"I've been calling you." He managed to gasp out, now pushing his hair with his free hand.

"Oh," you said less enthusiastic than you planned. "Did you need anything?" You watched as he steadied himself, controlling his breath a little better.

Spencer nodded, "Yeah, you." He smiled.

Shit.

If Spencer was seconds away from collapsing due to shortness of breath, you played it as a sport. Your breath hitched ever so subtly. You couldn't believe how much this man could make your heart skip a beat all while breaking it without wasting a single breath. Not that he did it on purpose.

"I know you love the tenth doctor because of David Tennant, and just so happens, I'm going to a convention that he's attending to. And I have an extra ticket!" Spencer beamed, squeezing your wrist subconsciously from excitement. His smile was so wide and handsome. His short hair was soft and messy.

"I can't."

It ached. The mere act of rejecting his invitation made you want to bang your head on a wall for crushing his innocent smile.

"Why?" He questioned, squinting, hand still wrapped around you wrist.

"I-I just can't that day—"

"You don't even know when it is. I didn't mention it."

"Take someone else? Why not, Seaver? I'm sure she'll—"

"She's not a David Tennant fan from what I concluded. She doesn’t even know what Doctor Who is. And I just met her today, she's a stranger."

"Penelope likes—"

"Are you mad at me?" Spencer's tone was different. The kind he only uses when he was frustrated and upset at the same time.

"No!" You exclaimed in a rush, finally looking at his chocolate stare that made you melt instead of the other way around.

Spencer's grip on your wrist tightened a little more, locking your gaze no matter how much you try to avoid his. "Then, why have you been avoiding me the whole week? I know you cried and I wanted to ask, but you always avoided me. I’ve been worried, so inviting you five months early for a convention seemed like a nice way to cheer you up. But you don’t want to come with me to see David Tennant. You would've choked me by now if I told you I'm going to see him and you're not invited. So I can only assume that you’re mad at me." A slight anger laid underneath his tone and even if you caught up to that, you didn't understand why.

You sighed, closing your eyes agonizingly. Derek was right. You had to let your feelings out or it would make you explode. And with your current situation, you’re already ruining your friendship with Spencer, so why not? When you gained vision once again, you twisted your wrist and held his own.

"I love you."

Silence enveloped the both of you for five seconds until your anxiety took over you.

"No, wait. Too advanced. I meant, I love you, like I have special feelings for you. Wait. No. I mean, I like you. Yeah. That. I like you. Hold on. That's too vague. I like you more than a friend. Like I want to kiss you type of like. Not I like your personality. Wait, I do like your personality. I just meant—"

"I love you too."

Your lips halted, and you stared at him with your mouth agape. "Wait..."

Spencer smiled and pulled you in, closing the little gap by connecting your lips. You didn't know what to do. Your body froze, arms falling limp on your sides. And soon you melted in his touch. One hand on your cheek and the other at the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

He pulled away with the same soft smile, "I bought the tickets, so I can take you, not some random girl I just met. Not Garcia, who helped me searched the internet for the tickets." Spencer kissed the tip of your nose.

"But— Seaver—" You couldn't form a sentence. Your brain was still foggy from his confession.

"Garcia was teasing me because I won't tell her who the other ticket was for." Spencer briefly explained. "And I was hoping I could ask you out to go with me to see David Tennant on our first date..." He trailed off, a huge grin over his face as he unravel his little plan for you. "Then, maybe ask you out for a second date. One that you actually know that it's a date."

The corner of your lips slowly curved. A laughed roaring out of you as you leaned your forehead against his chest. "I was so ready to push you to another woman, because I thought you didn't like me." You playfully slapped his chest.

"I thought you didn't, until you told Morgan." Spencer chuckled.

Your eyes blew wide, swiftly looking up at him. "He told you?!"

He immediately shook his head, "No! No..." His arms snaked around your waist, just in case you storm off and beat Derek up. "I was with him that night, when you texted him. He went to the restroom and left his phone on the table. I didn't mean to read it, but his phone vibrated loudly and, well, I read too fast."

"I..." You didn't know what to say, and the burning on your cheeks weren't helping either.

"The funny thing was," Spencer rested his forehead on yours, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "I was with Morgan, because I needed to tell someone about my feelings for you. It kept me awake at night and weirdly energetic than usual during the day."

You chuckled, "You're down bad."

Spencer scoffed, pulling you closer. "Says, you."

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencerreid #fem!reader #criminal minds #criminalminds #spencer reid x fem!readr #x reader #cm #spencer reid fluff #fluff #criminal minds fanfiction

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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Niragi Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Heavy BDSM, Edging, Overstimulation, Aftercare, Ownership Kink, Marking, Biting, Petnames, Consensual Dub-Con, Consensual Abuse of Physical Strength, Knife Play, Mentions of Blood, Spit Kink, Cum Play, Rough Sex, Dominant Niragi, Submissive Reader, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, etc.

A/N: If you don't like this kind of content, please don't flag it ! It really hurts us authors and our engagement ! Instead, please consider blocking my account or changing your account viewing preferences so you aren't exposed to unwanted/NSFW content in the future :-). Here is a wonderful post which details how you can do just that <3

You’re his. Simple as.

And he makes sure to remind you - and anyone who crosses your path - on a near-daily basis.

Whenever he sees fit, he’ll just corner you and pin you down, telling you to “Calm down, Angel – you’re makin’ me hard,” – his way of warning you that whatever he has planned for you will only worsen the more you struggle.

And his bulge against your back is a very visceral promise of that.

Loves forcing your hands beside or above your head; it reminds you both of how much stronger than you he is – how weak and dependent you are compared to him.

How he owns you.

Bites your throat and shoulders, sucking marks, crafting you a necklace of bruises fashioned by him – his own branded jewels of love.

He’ll make sure they’re visible, too.

He needs to ward off other people from you by leaving his mark, his signature.

If he thinks you’re being bratty or uncooperative, he’ll go to any lengths to break you down until you submit to him entirely.

“You’re not making this any easier for yourself, Love,” he says. “Just tell me why you’re being so infuriating and I won’t bleed you this time.”

Massively into knife play.

Loves hearing you squeak and moan whenever he holds a knife to your throat or drags the blunted edge up your thighs, pressing it to your throbbing, aching core and cutting your underwear open, ravaging you.

He’s so rough when he’s in this kind of mood.

Will pound you until you bleed. Or give out and admit your feelings to him. Either will suffice; yet Niragi knows which he can draw from you first.

And his stamina and endurance are no joke.

He will outlast you in every faculty.

That’s the territory that comes with being a trained killer.

And he will remind you of that constantly.

“How does it feel–” he rasps, pants, as he pounds you from behind, the bed jutting with each thrust, “–to know you’re being fucked by a killer,”

The question is always rhetorical. He just revels in the feeling of you clenching around him when he recalls just how easily he could end you right here, right now.

But he doesn’t. And he never would.

He loves you far, far too much.

But that doesn’t stop him from being straight-up disrespectful.

Orders you to open your mouth, only for him to spit into it whenever he knows or suspects you’re being untruthful.

Also loves covering you in his cum.

His favourite thing is to cum inside you and watch it ooze from whichever holes he’s chosen to abuse that day, but something about covering you in it makes him feral.

Edges you constantly.

Uses your release as a bartering chip.

“Tell me why you’re being such a brat and I’ll let you cum.”

It’s a trap. Your honesty is punished, too.

Once he tears a satisfactory answer from you, he’ll let you - make you - cum.

And as your orgasm is still rolling through you, he’ll keep going. And going. And going.

At first you could assume it’s his bid to fulfill his own needs, but even after he finishes inside you and he simply doesn’t relent, realisation dawns on you.

Your insides are aching, pleading for a moment’s respite. But Niragi doesn’t stop, battering your hole and keeping it stretched over his bulging cock.

There comes a point where you’re banging your fists against his chest, begging him to stop because you’re so sensitive and it hurts, but he ignores you.

“If I were to let up that easily, I wouldn’t get to have any fun. Quite unfair after I let you cum, isn’t it?”

Looks into your eyes as he does it, too.

Will tie you up if he finds your cries and flails to be too bothersome.

Binds you to the bedposts so there’s nothing you can do but watch and feel as he slams into you at such a harsh, killing rhythm that has you thinking whatever’s leaking out of you right now is blood.

Very much into BDSM.

Will use his strength to bend you into whatever shape your body will allow and bind your limbs together, making it entirely impossible for you to break free as he has his way with you.

“You’re mine,” he’d say, grinding the shape of his cock into your walls; and all the while you’re moaning, crying, tears streaming down your face as euphoria tightens in your centre. “Nobody else can have you - please you - the way I can.”

Big fan of punishment, btw.

There are times where he puts you in a cage and just cums on you, making you stay there until his semen is crusting on your skin, makeshift scales on the creature he has reduced you to.

Also gets a kick out of spanking you, either with a belt or his hand.

When he’s feeling particularly cruel, he makes you count them until you reach the limit he has set for you.

And Heaven forbid you lose count, or you both start all over again.

Niragi likes to make sure that every time you try to sit down, you remember him – what he did to you.

When all is said and done, even when you’re used and stuffed and Niragi is milked dry, he is always up for more.

If you insist you can “go another round,” he’ll push you back down onto the bed.

“Oh, is that so, Sweetheart?” he says, looking down at you with mischief. “I might just break you if we go again.”

He’s joking, ofc.

When you're actually spent for the night, he just collapses next to you and looks upon you as if you are god, eyes dark and round.

Though he'd attribute that longing look in his eye to you being too emotional or clutching at straws - simply projecting that which you wanted to see.

Though, he will admit (only to himself), that it does feel nice to be so seen on occasion, but only by you.

Secretly loves to snuggle. All the time.

And he holds you as you’re drifting off to sleep, keeping you flush against his chest, wondering how he got so lucky to have met you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-) Masterlist

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#niragi x reader #niragi x reader smut #niragi smut #alice in boderland x reader #aib niragi #niragi suguru x reader #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #aib smut #niragi x y/n #niragi fanfiction #niragi #niragi headcanons #aib x you #aib headcanons #aib hcs

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henrioo · 24 days

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°•*⁀➷ CROCOBABY: CROCODILE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "There is only one person that Crocodile would get down on his knees and fulfill every wish without hesitation, you, his little and only son"

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Dad! Crocodile, PLATONIC STORY! NO ROMANCE! Dad and son's relationship, the reader doesn't have a specific age but he is a small child, Cross guild spoilers, child reader loves circus, just parental cuteness and stuff

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,2k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : This another stories of a time I only wanted to write about Crocodile, those last times I only want to write for Killer and him, but since I had more ideas for Crocodile I wrote more of him. My finished stories are ending so I'm back writing again, finishing the ask and seeing what I'm going to do next, maybe I will open my request soon but no promises, bye

You coughed, turned again in your bed and finally decided that you weren't going to be able to go back to sleep. You yawned rubbing your eyes with your small hands as you sat up in bed, you looked around the beautiful room you shared with your father. Although you were the one who spent most of your time in that room, so your father had made the necessary changes so that you wouldn't be bored in a place full of adult things.

You now had your own table to study at, your own corner with toys, even an armchair for your size. Furthermore, there were several books that could distract you, it might not be paradise for most children but you were never very demanding, you had toys and other activities and that was more than enough to entertain you for hours. Besides that, when your father was in a good mood he would let you watch the activity at the circus where you lived, it was always such a colorful and lively spectacle that you were mesmerized by everything. Your father hated the circus, but he had made sacrifices for you for your enjoyment, the truth was that more and more of you two went to watch the shows just because he wasn't able to resist the enchanted face of his little son.

Yawning, you moved through the various scarves, furs and other cloths that were always on your bed. Partly to protect you from the cold and partly because you moved so much that your father got tired of always covering you up again, so he just covered you with lots more cloths to make sure you were still covered even if you tossed and turned all night.

You had a little trouble getting out of bed, but you were soon on the floor, your fuzzy socks keeping you from feeling cold. It wasn't long before several of the circus crew saw a child walking around in green banana pajamas and dragging a huge crocodile stuffed animal with him, of course everyone knew who that child belonged to so it wasn't any problem. All the Cross Guild pirates were very kind to you and were always giving you sweets or doing little tricks, you really liked them but your father not so much, so he always made sure you had as little contact with them as possible. He always said that if you spent too much time with them you would become as dumb as Buggy, you didn't understand exactly what that meant.

Luckily the door to your father's office was just ajar, you pushed it with both hands and entered the room. It was similar to his father's old office but was a little smaller and more minimalist, probably because it wasn't very safe to have so much furniture on a ship that could face huge storms. So even now on land his father didn't have many decorations taken from the ship's office.

Crocodile didn't even look up from his papers when the door opened, it was probably Mihawk or Buggy since they had a meeting scheduled this evening, if it weren't them then it would be Mr.1 reporting to him. However, when no one said anything and the door remained open he was slightly confused, he looked up and found no one, his eyebrows were furrowed as he thought of a punishment if it was a prank by Buggy. But to his surprise, all that happened were two little hands pulling his coat trying to get his attention.

“Daddy, lap, daddy” you called for him softly, you were tired and it was obvious that you had just woken up.

"What are you doing here? It’s past your bedtime” he asked with a slightly more affectionate tone that he used specifically for you. Of course it wasn't even close to an extremely loving voice, but it was gentle and calm, an extreme compared to his harsh and aggressive voice towards others. “You should be in bed.” He blew the hair from your forehead as he let you lay against his chest, he had to hold you with his hook arm but you seemed extremely comfortable sleeping on him. It had been a little over an hour since he had put you to sleep and he definitely didn't expect to see you here.

“I can’t sleep” you yawned as you held your crocodile plush tighter and leaned on him, you were lying half sideways against his chest. This reminded the adult of when you were a little baby, he would always hold you regardless of what he needed to do, you were a very needy baby, always crying when he left you alone... maybe he missed how little and needy of his attention you were.

“Do you want me to put you to bed again?” Crocodile was ignoring that he had a meeting soon, the other two pirates could wait, after all his little sand prince would always be his priority.

“No… I'll be right back… I just want… to stay here for a little while” you yawned and finally closed your eyes and relaxed completely against your father. You were already big, but now curled up in his arms with a face so relaxed you almost looked like a baby again.

Sighing Crocodile couldn't hold back his smile, of course he was quick to hide it not wanting anyone but you to see this. He covered you with the huge coat he always wore and went back to his paperwork, he would take you to his bed soon, he would just enjoy this peaceful time with you a little more.

He only realized that a lot of time had passed when Mihawk, Buggy and Mr.1 were entering the office. The clown was shouting and complaining about something while Mihawk ignored him, Daz was holding some papers and approached his boss's desk more quickly. Obviously he was quick to notice the strange bulge hidden beneath his coat, before he could question it he saw his little hand clinging to his father's shirt, he almost smiled but that didn't suit him.

“Do you want me to take the young master to the room?” He asked as he placed the papers on the table and the mention of another person in the room made Mihawk and Buggy shift their attention to Crocodile.

“No, I'll take him after the meeting” he dismissed the support, even though Mr.1 had been his babysitter for the last few months, there were things that the pirate refused to let others do with his son. These were things that only he, the father, had the right to do.

"I see we will have a little guest today" Mihawk said with a gentler air as he sat down, it was strange but the swordsman didn't hate children. A few times he had even seen the two of you interacting while Dracule told you about some island he had been to.

“Oh, that explains his calmness” Buggy sighed a little relieved knowing that Crocodile would never be cruel or scary in front of him.

“Shut up and let’s get this over with, I have other matters to deal with” the hooked man said harshly. Everyone agreed but deep down it wasn't difficult to realize that your father had a huge soft spot for you... And well, you weren't complaining about that.

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