#Detective personal examination
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cheeseanonioncrisps · 9 months ago
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A murder mystery film set in a medieval village. After an outbreak of plague, the villagers make the decision to shut their borders so as to protect the disease from spreading (see the real life case of the village of Eyam). As the disease decimates the population, however, some bodies start showing up that very obviously were not killed by plague.
Since nobody has been in or out since the outbreak began, the killer has to be somebody in the local community.
The village constable (who is essentially just Some Guy, because being a medieval constable was a bit like getting jury duty, if jury duty gave you the power to arrest people) struggles to investigate the crime without exposing himself to the disease, and to maintain order as the plague-stricken villagers begin to turn on each other.
The killer strikes repeatedly, seemingly taking advantage of the empty streets and forced isolation to strike without witnesses. As with any other murder mystery, the audience is given exactly the same information to solve the crime as the detective.
Except, that is, whenever another character is killed, at which point we cut to the present day where said character's remains are being carefully examined by a team of modern archaeologists and historians who are also trying to figure out why so many of the people in this plague-pit died from blunt force trauma.
The archaeologists and historians, btw, are real experts who haven't been allowed to read the script. The filmmakers just give them a model of the victim's remains, along with some artefacts, and they have to treat it like a real case and give their real opinion on how they think this person died.
We then cut back to the past, where the constable is trying to do the same thing. Unlike the archaeologists, he doesn't have the advantage of modern tech and medical knowledge to examine the body, but he does have a more complete crime scene (since certain clues obviously wouldn't survive to be dug up in the modern day) and personal knowledge from having probably known the victim.
The audience then gets a more complete picture than either group, and an insight into both the strengths and limits of modern archaeology, explaining what we can and can't learn from studying a person's remains.
At the end of the film, after the killer is revealed and the main plot is resolved, we then get to see the archaeologists get shown the actual scenes where their 'victims' were killed, so they can see how well their conclusions match up with what 'really' happened.
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vaidyaslaboratory · 8 months ago
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Comprehensive Health Checkups in Thane: Aarogya Vaidya’s Special Packages
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schakira · 6 months ago
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(Unedited Version, Patch 0, May 14th 2024)
Approval Ratings — You now get to intimately know when your entourage approves or disapproves of your choices. You get to accurately see how you fair within their approval ratings.
Info tips — Every now and then, a little window in your field of vision shares crucial tidbits of information to you. Very situational, but always helpful.
Field of View — When crouching, you can you see exactly where people are looking, and you can also tell if people have detected you, whether or not you can see them. (This includes cameras, animals...)
Model Equipment — Once per week, you can declare one outfit; this outfit will remain clean, temperate, and comfortable for the rest of the week, but you will not be able to take it off. You will not be getting dirty or sweating, if that's a concern. You will remain clean, and in a stasis appearance-wise, for 1 week at a time.
Check / Examine — You can check people and get a detailed description of who they are, their strength, their health, their life's story.
Turn-Based Action — Once per day, you can force people and objects to abide by the rules of turn-based encounters. Stuck at an intersection between cars? Turn-Based. Someone keeps cutting you off when you talk? Turn-Based. Not even I know the true ramifications of this.
Emote — Observe movements done by someone; you can set them as emotes. Maximum of 60 emotes. Emoting does not tire you, or exhaust you. You can delete and replace emotes. (The exhaustion can be interpreted however you want.)
Fishing — Fishing, now turned into a mini-game. You'll always catch something within a few seconds!
3rd person view — You can now toggle your vision between 1st person and 3rd person view, and navigate the world like so whenever you want.
Quick Grab — You can quickly grab and acquire anything within arm's reach, in the blink of an eye.
Menus, settings — Change the video, sound, and control settings of your brain's sensory inputs.
Subtitles — You can toggle subtitles on or off. Can not translate.
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roastedoatmilk · 3 months ago
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Who Kissed Nanami?
Kento Nanami x GN! Reader
Summary: The first year trio see that someone left lipstick on Nanami’s collar so they decide to play detective and figure out who it was
Word Count: 1.7k
Tags: literally so much fluff, the first years follow nanami, heavily implied itafushi, some sprinkles of nobamaki, nanami and reader being disgustingly in love with each other
Little Things Masterlist
This was also posted on ao3
A/N This was heavily inspired by a selfship commission i have from my lovely friend cassecreeoute let me know if y’all would like to see it :D
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Something was different about Nanami, that much Yuji could tell. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but the stoic man seems to have a bit more pep in his step as of late. While out on missions Nanami seemed more adamant than usual to leave at exactly 6pm, making quick work of whatever it is that’s keeping him. On multiple occasions the pink haired boy has caught his mentor smiling at his phone; two things that the man doesn’t often do. On this day in particular the elder man came into work with a faint red mark peeking up from almost right under where the collar of his shirt meets his neck causing alarm bells to go off in the boy’s head. Yuji decides that his best course of action is to go to Fushiguro and Kugisaki with his findings. He manages to catch Fushiguro while he’s leaving his dorm only offering a small “Need to talk to you.” before grabbing the spiky haired boy by the hand and dragging him down the hallway.
They managed to find Kugisaki sitting beside Maki in the courtyard, the two girls leaning over a phone discussing something in hushed voices. As the boys drew closer they were able to catch a bit of their conversation. 
“I’m telling you Maki he’s obviously hiding something.” Nobara whispers to her elder classmate before continuing.”Nanami doesn’t seem like the type to share stuff like that anyways.” 
Maki nods along before looking up and seeing the two boys approaching them, still holding hands with each other. A smirk grows on the green haired girl’s face seeing this before she stands up and says her goodbyes to the trio. The boys make their way over to their counterpart sitting down next to her. Nobara looks the two boys up and down in annoyance.
“What do the two of you want?” The ginger girl huffs, “I was having a conversation you know.”
Yuji flushes in embarrassment, lowering his head before responding in a hushed voice “I think Nanamin has someone special in his life, I’ve noticed some stuff about him lately.” 
Hearing this Nobara visibly perks up giving the cursed boy her full attention, grabbing him by the shoulders she shakes him while saying “Why didn’t you start with that, tell me everything you know right now!” 
“Kugisaki, if you expect him to answer you need to stop shaking him.” Megumi says, speaking for the first time since Yuji dragged him to the courtyard. 
The elder girl stopped shaking the boy, giving him a break so that he can say his findings. Taking a deep breath Yuji then tells the two everything that he has noticed, even showing them the photo he sneakily took of the mark on Nanami’s neck. Nobara snatched the phone out of his hands to examine the photo further, zooming in as close as possible on the photo.
“I definitely recognize that shade of lipstick, a bit too red for my taste personally.” The girl speaks before handing the phone back to its owner.
Yuji pockets his phone, collecting his thoughts for a moment before declaring “I think we need to investigate where Nanami is going after work, he told me he has somewhere to be tonight.” 
A bewildered look crosses Megumi’s face as he listens to the boy next to him, not really wanting to spend his night following the blond stoic man around. However Nobara seems equally as determined as the pink haired boy to figure out what Nanami is hiding. The two of them lean into each other and whisper ideas of where the man could be heading to. 
Later that night at exactly 6pm Nanami stands from his desk, paperwork already completed, and starts to head out for the night. The first years watch as the door to his office opens and he walks out, heading straight for the entryway of the school. The three students spring into action, following behind the man at a reasonable distance. 
They watch as the man pulls out his phone and calls someone the second he walks through the school’s barrier. Yuji and Nobara gasp as they see the man smile as he says he’ll meet whoever is on the other end of the line at a restaurant a few blocks away, their jaws drop even more as they hear the man say that he loves the person and that he’ll see them soon. Nobara grabs the two younger boys and forces them into a group huddle. 
“He’s definitely seeing someone, we need to follow him to the restaurant and find out who it is.” The girl whispers conspiratorially. Yuji firmly nods agreeing with her while Megumi just sighs before nodding as well. 
The three continue following behind the taller man, making sure to keep their distance. When he arrives at the restaurant he visibly perks up when he sees a person sitting at one of the tables by the window. Making his way inside the trio watch as he walks over to the person, coming up behind them and placing his hands over their eyes causing the person to laugh as they try and guess who it is covering their eyes. Nobara and Yuji’s eyes widen as they watch the person remove his hands from their eyes then stand up and turn around to face Nanami, placing a kiss on his lips leaving behind a mark in the same shade as the one on his neck. Nobara lets out a squeal so loud that it causes the two lovers’ heads to snap in her direction. The first years freeze in place knowing that they are now caught spying on the older man. 
Nanami lets out a deep sigh, pinching his fingers between his eyes and shaking his head. His partner however just laughs at the shocked faces of the kids, leaning into Nanami’s shoulder for support. The older man's shoulders now bouncing as he also chuckles at the kids. The three stand there in complete shock watching the two adults laugh at their expense. 
“W-we are so sorry for following you Nanamin, we just had noticed some stuff about you lately and wanted to find out what it meant.” Yuji stutters, his face completely red at this point. 
“Yeah!” Nobara chimed in, “Besides it was Itadori’s idea in the first place I was just following along.” This caused the pink haired boy to bow his head in shame, nodding along to the words of the older girl. Megumi stands with the two before waving shyly at you, his face a vibrant shade of pink. 
You laugh even harder at the three students before making your way over to them standing in front of the trio. Nanami follows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
“It’s very nice to meet you two and it’s nice to see you again Megumi.” You say to the kids, your voice gentle as if talking to a baby deer.  A bright look in your eyes as you speak to the kids. 
Yuji’s head shoots up towards Megumi at hearing that the dark haired boy had met you before, Megumi refusing to look at his friends mutters a “It’s nice to see you again too.” 
Yuji and Nobara round on him after he speaks, the elder girl staring daggers into the green eyed boy. 
“Why didn't you tell us that you knew about Nanami’s partner huh??” Nobara squawks clinging to his arm.
“Do you not trust us, is that it Fushiguro?” Yuji asks with fake tears in his eyes, playing into Nobara’s act.
Megumi frees himself from Nobara before he tentatively reaches out to hook his pinky around the pink haired boy’s own. Megumi takes a few moments before speaking to his friends in a soft tone, “It just wasn’t my place to reveal that sort of information, I figured they were keeping it a secret for a reason.” 
The other two nod in understanding, giving up the act they had been putting on finding his reason acceptable. Yuji locks his pinky around Megumi’s in response. The two boys shyly looked at each other before the clearing of a throat caused their heads to snap up. Nanami and you are still standing there watching the trio, a small smile gracing both of your faces. 
“Have any of you eaten yet?” The tall blond man asks the trio, his voice soft. The three shake their heads in response, and on queue Yuji’s stomach starts to growl. Causing everyone to let out a laugh. 
“Come on kiddos, let's get you guys some food before you have to go back to school.” You say, ushering the kids into the restaurant. 
The three sitting in the booth across from where Nanami and yourself sit. You spend the next few hours getting to know the kids as you all eat. Answering any of the questions that the trio had. After all of the food was eaten and the kids ran out of questions, Nanami paid the bill before telling the kids that he’ll walk them back to the school. The three groan not yet wanting to go back but follow the elder man anyways. Before they leave Nanami gives you a peck on the lips, a smile gracing his face as he looks at you. 
“I’ll be home as soon as I make sure that they’re all back in their dorms.” The freckled man murmurs, placing yet another peck on your lips. You laugh at the man before nodding and turning to the kids. 
“It was lovely meeting you both Itadori and Kugisaki, and it was great seeing you again Fushiguro.” you tell the trio. Wrapping the three of them into a quick hug. 
“It was nice meeting you too.” Yuji and Nobara blurt at the same time causing you to smile even wider at them. 
“It was good to see you again.” Megumi mutters his face still pink from embarrassment.
You let the three go and Nanami ushers them towards the exit, the three dragging their feet behind him. Laughing at the kids as you watch them go, you hope that you’ll be able to have dinner with the trio again soon.
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A/N here’s part two i had tons of fun writing this i hope y’all enjoy it as always lmk what y’all think in the comments 🫶🏻
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letoasai · 9 months ago
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Will work for food ~ part 2
Part 1 - Master list
Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks. 
He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public. 
Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it. 
He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once. 
His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend. 
The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute. 
When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best. 
The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head? 
Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume… 
What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?
“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…” 
“Just Phantom is fine.” 
Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form. 
He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form. 
“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.” 
“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.” 
“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.” 
“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.” 
“Not if it’s your name.” 
“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?” 
“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.” 
Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?” 
“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him. 
“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.” 
“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy. 
They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening. 
Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu. 
Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin. 
“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?” 
Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.” 
Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?” 
“Yes, but not this Earth.” 
Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?” 
“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.” 
“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?” 
“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.” 
There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.  
When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.” 
“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.” 
Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet. 
Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?” 
“Of course.” 
Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?” 
Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal. 
“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.” 
Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…” 
“Eighteen.” Tim said. 
“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.” 
“The bridge?” 
“Balance. The living and the dead.” 
Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”  
Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.” 
“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples. 
Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.” 
Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.” 
“Exactly.” 
“The power of ruling an entire realm…” 
“Exactly.” 
Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.” 
“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.” 
“I’ll put them at ease then.” 
Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?” 
“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities. 
It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good. 
Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.” 
“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating. 
They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for. 
He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy. 
The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way. 
“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.” 
“You cook?” 
“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.” 
Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.” 
Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.” 
“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared. 
“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.” 
Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.” 
Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.” 
“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation. 
“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad. 
It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask. 
They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit. 
He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return. 
“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.” 
“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”
“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.” 
“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.” 
Tim stared, “What?” 
Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.” 
“Yeah?” 
The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders. 
They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata. 
“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”
The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away. 
Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…” 
“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching. 
Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass. 
“I gotta kill my brother…” 
Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.
“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first. 
“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down. 
“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added. 
Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.” 
“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…
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lordprettyflackotara · 1 month ago
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make a move || eyeless jack
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SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: aggressive smut, size kink to a scary extent, eating ass but not in the traditional way? idk if you don’t like ass stuff don’t read this, breeding, squirting, passing out, brief descriptions of gore , slight cnc if you squint, cock drunk reader if i’m being honest
Jack knew something was wrong.
He hovered over his fallen victim, a jogger who decided to be a little too adventurous. He was crouched beside the woman, a liver in his hand. Crimson red blood stained his chin and lips, his mask tilted up just enough for him to eat. Somehow he could still hear a heartbeat. It was a singular one, but it had assumed it belonged to the jogger. Humans were known to have uncontrolled racing hearts when exercising. Yet he knew hers to be stopped, having ripped it out first to ensure she wasn’t suffering through death. It was unlike Jack to be unaware of who was around him at all times. Humans had very distinct scents. He could hear their heartbeats and the blood running through their veins. He only smelled the victim below him, yet he still heard a heartbeat.
It was faint but it was there. Jack lifted his mask just above his nose, inhaling deeply. He was searching for the scent of a deer, but instead all he smelled was blood and the forest around him. He frowned, looking around. The trees above him ruffled, his eye sockets narrowing. He hadn't felt breeze whisk past him, meaning that somehow, something living had caused the trees movement. Jack paused for a moment, focusing on listening to what was around him. He pulled his scalpel out of his hoodie, the blade still coated with fresh blood. His ears twitched at the sound of a twig snapping, causing him to abruptly turn around. What he hadn't anticipated was being face to face with the barrel of a shotgun, a shaking detective on the other end.
Being the newest detective in your office, meant you got the worst jobs. In a field dominated with men, you were determined to solve every last once. When you were tasked with finding and killing a mysterious cannibal who had slaughtered quite a few locals, you weren't quite sure what you were expecting. You had anticipated a homeless person gone mad, not a eyeless demon who fed on organs. You didn't tell your team, afraid no one would believe you. Describing eye sockets with dripping black ooze and dark gray skin would land you not only out of a job, but in an insane asylum too. You decided to take matters into your own hands, stalking the tall demon in front of you now. It was obvious his senses were heighted, so you prepared accordingly. It was a tiny sacrifice, turning the sign for joggers to go right instead of left at the local nature trail. You knew it would be perfect bait for the demon. You had covered yourself with dirt and leafs long before you settled into the trees above.
Nightfall was your perfect cover. You were almost surprised that Jack hadn't spotted you. You almost assumed the creature to far more intelligent than you could comprehend. "Is this supposed to scare me?" Jack asked. For someone with a gun pointed at their head, he didn't seem fazed. "No, it's only going to blow your head off," You snapped. Jack raised his eyebrows, examining your uniform. "Aren't you supposed to read me my rights, detective?" He asked sourly. You gritted your teeth, keeping your aim steady. "You're a cannibal with no eyes, extreme measures are more than appropriate," You replied coldly. Jack examined the dirt and grim you had covered yourself with. He knew then you had somehow been smart enough to stalk him and not get caught. You were now a danger, one with too much knowledge to simply let walk away. "So what are you waiting for then?" Jack questioned. Humans and their theatrics. If he had eyes he would've rolled them. When you hesitated the demon seized the opportunity, grabbing the gun and yanking it away from your grip.
The metal crumbled under his grasp, the demon bending the metal in half before tossing it away. He grabbed you by the collar of your uniform, shoving you against a nearby tree. You gasped as the air was knocked out of your lungs, your eyes widening in fear. Jack lifted his mask over his head, his eye sockets boring into your eyes. "How do you know who I am?" Jack snarled. His grip was tight and threatening, his rows of razor sharp teeth revealed when he spoke. You had only seen him once without his mask, but only from far away. Up close it was terrifying, unidentified black ooze dripping from his eye sockets. "I got tasked with finding the cannibal whose been killing our towns people. They think the killer is uh, human," You tried to explain, unsure if the demon would be insulted or not. Jack's face hardened, listening to your heart begin to race. "How long have you been stalking me?" Jack asked. You gulped nervously, your memory suddenly becoming hazy from fear. "I-I don't know, maybe a month?" You replied honestly. Normally Jack would have called it a done deal right there and then. He wasn't one to usually play with his food, yet he knew he needed more.
"Who else knows about my existence?" He hissed. You shook your head, your feet kicking the air helplessly. "No one. I haven't told anyone," You answered. A low growl rumbled in his throat. "Liar," He snarled. He bared his shark like teeth, causing you to squirm under his grasp. "No one would believe me if I told them about you. So I-I didn't tell anyone about my leads or anything at all," You rambled. You swallowed hard, trying to refrain from crying. You didn't want to die. You had watched Jack slaughter dozens of creatures from deer to humans. He was merciless, like a rabid starved animal. "Y-You have to understand. I've only been with my force for a couple of months. If I told them about you no one would believe me," You rambled. Jack seemed to pause for a moment, processing what you were saying. He could hear your pulse staying steady as you rambled. Most humans pulses sped up when they were lying. "So your plan was to kill me and bring my corpse to your 'force'?" Jack confirmed, tilting his head to the side curiously. He had to admit it wasn't a half bad idea, although he thought it was rather idiotic that you wanted to shoot him in the face and not the chest. You nodded in agreement, silently praying your truth telling would result in mercy from the demon.
"You humans are always so naive. This isn't the movies kid," Jack grumbled. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to move your face side to side. "I must say, even with the filth you've covered yourself in, you look quite delicious," He grinned. The chunks of flesh and fresh staining of blood on his teeth sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in close to you, goosebumps spreading across your skin as he inhaled deeply. "You smell good too," Jack chuckled darkly. Your eyes were widened with fear, your legs kicking in the air as he leaned in towards your neck. You were panicking, your heart pounding so loudly you were afraid it would bounce out of your chest. Your hands held onto his wrist, trying to pry away his grip from the collar of your uniform. His breath was hot against your skin, one of his slimy tongues emerging from his lips. You felt him lick the side of your neck, your heart skipping a beat as you froze. Jack noticed your tenseness, but not from the fear that had been boiling. Curiously he lapped at your neck again, your legs no longer kicking but instead glued together.
A devilish grin spread across Jack's lips as he pulled away from your neck. "You can't be serious," He said. Your realization caused you to thrash under his grip once more, your face scrunching up in determination. "I don't know what you're talking about," You lied. Jack frowned, bringing you towards him before slamming you against the tree again. "I can smell you whore," He spat. You stared at him, a weird mixture of desire and fear washing over you. "Getting all hot and bothered over a demon? You don't have many suitors, do you?" Jack asked mockingly. Your face hardened, your jaw clenching. "Oh yeah i'm sure you're one to talk. A cannibal with no eyes? I just know you're a hot commodity," You barked. Jack tilted his head to the side, before his gaze went up and down your body. "Feisty. I like that in a mate," He mused. Your eyes widened so much so you feared they may pop out of your head. "Mate? Absolutely not. Eat me and get it over with," You snapped. Jack brought himself closer to you, the smell of flesh and metallic blood hitting your nose. "I think i'll have fun knocking you down a peg. Seems like you need this more than I do," Jack snickered. You blinked, his nose brushing against yours.
"I'd like to see you try," You challenged. You could feel your stomach stir as he grinned his hand releasing your collar and grabbing your throat instead. He squeezed at your airway, causing you to whimper. "Don't worry pet, I don't plan on being gentle," Jack informed you. Your hands clawed at him as he choked you, nudging your legs open. With his other hand he palmed at your cunt through your uniform, grinning as your legs spread open wider. "See? That's what I thought. Whores like you like to pretend to be all big and bad. When really all you need is to be humbled," Jack rambled. In a swift motion he shoved you onto the forest floor, the joggers corpse only a few feet away. Your back collided with the dirt, the monster above you ripping the buttons off of your uniform top. You gasped as the buttons flew in the air, the demon carelessly ripping your bra in half with its teeth. "Y-You want to do this here?" You sputtered. The idea was so dangerous, getting caught would be humiliating. Yet the prospect of someone catching you entangled with a demon was so thrilling. "What? Did you expect a luxury hotel with rose petals pet? I'm just going to fuck you," Jack responded. He brought his mouth to your left breast, sucking on its nipple.
Your back arched off of the ground as his teeth grazed your bud, causing you to audibly whine. Jack grinned as he began to suck the other one, purposefully sucking as hard as he could. His large hands began to pull your pants down, your head tilting back from the pleasure. You could feel that Jack had at least three tongues, all of which were focused on assaulting your skin in one way or another. You whined as he kissed down your stomach, allowing the very edges of his teeth to graze your skin. Cool air hit your cunt as he tossed your clothes aside. You were unsure if they were even wearable anymore, the demon not caring to preserve them. Jack could smell the fear and arousal dripping off of you. You were so cute to him, practically trembling under his touch as he settled in between your thighs. He looked up at you, watching your mouth fall open as he revealed his three black tongues. You swallowed nervously, watching one of them slide into your cunt with ease. You groaned as it curled upwards, stroking your g spot. The second began to lap at your clit, causing your hand to fly down to his hair. You tugged at the roots, earning a groan from the demon in between your legs.
The third tongue, went directly for your ass. You could feel it teasing the rim, causing you to rise up on your elbows. “W-Wait i’ve never-” You began, gasping as Jack abruptly shoved his tongue inside of your unexplored hole. It curled just like the one in your cunt, his tongues abusing both of your holes. You fell back onto the forest floor, in a hypnotic state of foreign euphoria as Jack’s warm tongue made up for the stretch of your puckered hole. You were grinding on his face, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. His tongues were relentless and never seemed to tire, continuously fucking into you. You could feel your orgasm coming closer, your thighs tightening around his head. Jack's large hands pried them open, staring up at you as you moaned curses. Your noises were intoxicating. Jack could feel both sets of your walls squeezing at his tongues. He could tell you were about to cum, your back arching off of the dirt. "Fuck d-don't stop," You pleaded, your voice echoing through out the trees.
You were right at the edge when Jack suddenly pulled away from you. You whimpered at the loss of touch, your pleading eyes meeting his evil gaze. "You didn't think it would be that easy, did you pet?" He snickered. He nipped at your plush inner thighs, watching you squirm. Jack rose to his knees, shoving his pants and boxers down. He grabbed your legs, tossing them over his shoulders. “There’s no position I love more than the mating press,” He chuckled darkly. You rolled your eyes, before gasping as he tapped his large cock against your slick. “I’m not quite sure that’s gonna fit,” You say weakly. His cock was bigger than you could’ve imagined, your heart racing with fear and arousal. “You can take it. After all, you don’t have much of a choice kid,” He countered. He rubbed his length up and down your folds, attempting to lubricate his cock as much as possible. He had been put the head in when you whined, pain striking you down. His girth made you feel like you were going to split in half, your eyes screwed shut. He was going to break you. He was going to break you and split you in half, before devouring your organs.
“You humans are always so fragile. All bark no bite?” Jack asked mockingly. He could feel your cunt struggling to take him, your walls squeezing him tightly. He brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing small circles to help your body relax. “You know you look kinda pretty like this, being held down and eager to take my cock,” Jack snickered. Your walls began to relax, the pain slowly mixing with pleasure as he brushed against your g spot. You could feel yourself giving in to the demons will, your brain slowly turning into mush as he picked up the pace. His thrust went from agonizingly slow to inhumanly fast, your nails digging into his arms for support. “All of you humans are the same. Someone gives you good cock and you become a numbed out slut,” Jack chuckled darkly, grinning sadistically as he plowed into you. You thought you were going to fall apart, all thoughts and fears washing away with each thrust. “Awe what’s wrong detective? No fight left in ya?” Jack taunted. He grabbed your face, his long fingers digging harshly into your skin. He pushed the back of your skull further against the dirt, your hair promised to have dirt and grim in it by the time this was over.
Yet none of that mattered, your body falling limp and gladly at the mercy of the horny demon. “Good slut, just shut up and take it,” He groaned, watching your eyes roll into the back of your skull as he fucked you. He could feel his animalistic primal urges arising, the desire and need to breed you overriding any human characteristics. Your walls were commanding him to, milking him so right. “Such a tight cunt,” He groaned, a low growl forming in the bottom of his throat. His filthy words only brought you closer to the edge, your thighs trembling. The pleasure was too much, too much for you to handle. Your moans were strangled and sinful, echoing throughout the trees as you cried out. You were unable to stop yourself as you came on his cock, his lower half now covered in your juices. “You’re a squirter huh? How cute,” Jack chuckled. You whined as he began to speed up again, his hips snapping into yours. “Let’s see if I can make you do it again,” He growled: He roughly brought his fingers back to your clit, rubbing fast and uncontrolled circles.
“I-I don’t think-, fuck, too much,” You slurred. Jack grinned devilishly at your protest, his hips only fucking you faster. You saw black spots beginning to cloud your vision, your heart pounding against your chest. Stars were dancing over your head, your body falling limply against the forest floor. Before you could process what was happening, you slipped into unconsciousness.
\/
“Detective?”
“Detective?”
“Detective?”
“Detective wake up!”
You were startled awake by your commanding officer, who was looking down at you with a concerned expression. You blinked a few times, grabbing the back of your head as it throbbed. You cringed at the feeling of your fingertips, the sun brutally bright. “What the hell?” You murmured, your commander staring down at you: He pushed his hat back, camera flashes going off behind him. You had been redressed, sat up against the tree you had been hiding in. “You took a pretty nasty hit to the back of the head champ,” He said. A news reporter pushed past him, a small notepad in his hand. “Detective can you tell us what you saw?” She asked. You felt overwhelmed, your pupils dilating as you stared up at them. What the hell happened? Did you pass out? Maybe it was all a dream or some sort of psychotic break.
An EMT was by your side, examining your scratched arms. “Piss off lady, with this kind of head trauma it’s a miracle she remembers who she is,” He barked. He slung your arm over his shoulder, helping you to your feet. “Cmon, just gotta get you into the ambulance,” He grunted. You struggled to keep your eyes open, the bright sun causing you to squint to see. Cops and officers were littered all through out the woods, examining the managed corpse of the jogger. You thought over your encounter with Jack, almost ruling that none of it was real: That was until you felt his warm cum leaking out of your cunt, soaking your panties.
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pathologicalreid · 10 months ago
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the archer | S.R.
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in which a trip to your hometown leads to an exposed past and a wrongful arrest, you can't help but wonder who could stay
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angst
content warnings: normal cm violence/death. mentions of sexual assault and physical assault. mentions of miscarriage and dv. arson/fires. please take care of yourself while reading <3.
word count: 5.96k
a/n: if you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, the US hotline is 800-799-7233. be well and be safe.
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can you see right through me?
Emily had called you into her office fifteen minutes before the briefing began to let you know that the case was in your hometown. “There are some things that may come to light in a small town, and I wanted to let you know that you can stay behind if you need to,” she told you, having shut the blinds to her office to give you the most privacy she could.
Giving it a moment, you thought about it before you met her eyes, “if someone tries to say something, I’d rather be there to clear things up than let them say anything.” You wiped your clammy palms on your plants before standing up, “and besides, who better to work on victimology than someone who knows the town.”
You stepped out of the office, holding the door open for Emily before the two of you made your way to the roundtable room.
The two victims had been killed a week apart, they were both women who you had gone to school with. The first was in your graduating class, Victoria Reynolds, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The second was a year ahead of you, Melanie Baylor, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The team had been called in by the lead detective on the case, Charlie Platten, and he had likely made the call without telling the police chief.
It had already been three days since the second body was recovered, and Emily didn’t want to waste any more time. You left the roundtable room to grab your go-bag, smiling when you felt a familiar presence next to you. “Are you alright?” Spencer asked, leaning against your desk while you reached underneath it for your bag.
Stepping in front of him, you looked up at him, “I’m okay, Spence.” You plopped your go bag on top of your desk, “it’ll be okay,” you whisper.
“And if at any point it’s not,” he prompted, placing a hand on your waist.
You simpered up at him, “You’ll be the first person I go to, love.”
He reached over and grabbed your bag off of your desk, carrying it to where the rest of the team is waiting for the elevator. “I’ll admit, I am interested in seeing your hometown,” he told you, letting you step into the elevator before him.
“Yeah, Y/N, maybe you can show us some of your old haunts once we solve the case,” Luke chimed in from the back of the elevator.
Laughing breathily, you turned your head to face Luke, “Do I really strike you as the kind of person to have ‘old haunts’, Alvez?”
A few of your team members chuckle. You faced forward, wondering how long it would be before one of them saw through you. When working with profilers, it was always a risk.
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'cause all of my enemies started out friends
Emily sent you and Luke to the latest crime scene while she and Spencer set up at the precinct. JJ and Matt met with the latest victim's family while Tara and Rossi met with the medical examiner. Your stomach felt unsettled as soon as the plane landed, you had a bad feeling about this case. Spencer tried to ask you what was going on with you, but you just brushed him off.
You would tell him. After this case was over and you went home, you would tell Spencer everything. He deserved that.
“Did you know her?” Luke asked, using a gloved hand to inspect a shard of glass he found on the concrete.
Blinking rapidly, you snapped out of your stupor, “Melanie? Yeah, she was a year ahead of me in school. I graduated with Victoria though.” You used the toe of your boot to clear some dirt off of what looked like some sort of plaque. “I wasn’t all that close with either of them, but in a town this small, you kind of know everyone,” you explained.
Standing back up and walking back over to Luke, you looked at the building, it’s an abandoned factory on the edge of town. “Is there any significance to this building?”
“It was a functioning factory in the eighties,” you explained, looking at the vines growing up the side of it. “This business was the entire economy of the town, when the factory went down, so did the town.”
Luke nodded, taking a step back and eyeing the entire decrepit building. “And the church? Where the first body was found.”
You pursed your lips, “Only church in town, I was baptized there, when it burned down people had nowhere else to go, so they stopped believing.”
“How did the fire start?” He asked, turning the knob on the factory door, and looking surprised when it opened.
You shrugged, “lightning strike, I thought. I wasn’t much of a believer, especially once my mom died.”
Alvez nodded in understanding, “Would you say that both of these locations are important to the town and its history?”
Nodding, you followed Luke back to the SUV, leaning back in the passenger seat as you mentally prepared yourself for the scene your arrival at the precinct was about to cause.
When you got there, you immediately spotted the police chief ripping the lead detective, Charlie, a new one outside the front door. He saw you and did a double take, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”
“Sir, we’re members of the BAU, our-“ Luke started explaining, obviously confused at the chief’s combative nature.
He held up a hand, “I wasn’t talking to you, agent.” Turning to face you, “You don’t show your face at home, leaving in the middle of the night ten years ago and now you’re what? A big bad FBI agent?”
You stiffened, pushing your shoulders back as you faced him. Stand tall, stay strong. “It wasn’t the middle of the night, and the FBI is only big and bad to the people who deserve it, Frank.”
The man in front of you scoffed, “I’m talking to your supervisor, you’re not working on this case.” He pushes past you, causing you to stumble back against the wall.
“What was that about? Who was that guy?” Luke asked, looking at you as you got your bearings back before walking into the precinct.
Bowing your head, you grumbled, “You just met my father.” At that moment, you were glad to be facing away from him, because you weren’t sure you could face any of it.
You’re still the newest member of the BAU, technically being a profiler but Emily pulled you in to help with public communications, since the old unit chief had been handling it along with Garcia, Emily did the same. When Spencer went to prison, she found she needed extra help, so you were snagged from your cozy office in sex crimes and sent to the BAU.
You fit in well with everyone, and you never really felt the need to prove yourself. Even taking the initiative to write letters to Spencer, because you didn’t want to be a stranger to him when he came back. So, when you met face-to-face last year, he thanked you. When you kissed him eight months ago, you both agreed to move slowly.
Seven months ago, he showed up at your door and told you he loved you.
Emily gave you an understanding look when she saw you walk into the police station, she, of course, knew everything about your situation.
“We don’t have enough for any sort of geographic profile yet,” Spencer said, standing in front of a whiteboard with a map over it, along with pictures of the two victims. He turned as soon as he saw you, smiling in a silent greeting. You winked in response, sitting down in the office chair next to him.
Luke stood in front of you, blocking your view of the whiteboard, “What do you mean that was your father? Why wouldn’t you say that your dad was the chief of police here?”
You shrugged, leaning back in the chair, “I may share DNA with the man, but I haven’t seen Frank Burris since I was twenty years old.”
“Doesn’t that bother you? Did she tell you?” Luke asked Spencer, who was still looking at the whiteboard, entirely unbothered.
“What did you find at the crime scene?” Emily asked, effectively ending Luke’s questioning. You had no idea if she had heard any of the previous conversation, but either way, you were grateful for the change in subject.
Taking a deep breath, you turned and faced her, “The dump sites are all places that are former symbols of the town, maybe the unsub wants to further desecrate these locations.” Emily nodded, prompting you to continue. “These kills are angry, the overkill and sexual assault definitely lean toward a male offender, I think the unsub is angry,” you said.
“Angry that his town is no longer what it once was,” Spencer suggested, taking his eyes off the whiteboard. “Are there any other locations that could fit that general description?”
Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest, “Probably, I haven’t been here in ten years, it might help to talk to a local. Charlie could probably help.”
“Charlie can’t help with anything; the chief took him off the case. It belongs to me now,” a voice behind you said. Immediately, you straightened up in your chair, earning a strange look from Spencer. “Y/N, I’m looking forward to working with you,” the male voice said.
Swallowing thickly, you turned and faced him, “I wish I could say the same, Johnny.” You stood up, needing as much ground as you could get. “Do you know any places that would fit the description? Somewhere that used to be a symbol in the down, but is abandoned now?”
“The school burnt down about eight days ago, but you’d know that if you gave a damn about us,” he said indignantly, looking down at you.
You felt Spencer stand behind you, “do you have some kind of problem?”
Johnny eyed your boyfriend and you hoped he didn’t catch on to your relationship, “If I’m being totally honest, I’m not completely comfortable working with Y/N.”
“Our team was called in to help solve these murders and Agent Y/L/N is a part of that team,” Emily defended you. “If you have a problem, I suggest you suck it up until this case is solved.”
Angrily, Johnny stalked off. You turned around and grabbed a file off of the desk, glancing over at Emily and silently thanking her.
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help me hold on to you
Later in your shared hotel room, Spencer looked at you curiously, “Was he an ex-boyfriend?”
You rolled your eyes and laid back on the bed, it wasn’t the worst bed you’ve slept in since joining the BAU, but it certainly wasn’t going to be winning any awards any time soon. “Don’t be jealous, Spence, it’s unbecoming," you deflected.
Spencer climbed on top of the bed and kissed your forehead, “I’m not jealous, I’m concerned.”
That made your heart clench, you sat up in the bed and cupped his face with your hands, “You don’t need to worry about me, okay?” You studied his face, the small crease in his forehead that told you he was overthinking the situation made you sigh. Gently, you leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “If I think you need to be concerned, I’ll tell you,” you whispered, allowing him to gather you in his arms.
“Okay, angel,” he whispered back.
You sighed and laid back against the pillows, “I have a bad feeling about this case,” you told him softly. Spencer doesn’t believe in intuition the way you do, but he’d never discredit your feelings.
He reached over and swept your hair behind your ear, “Me too.”
Pulling away from him, you looked at him curiously, “Why?”
He shrugged, “Both of them look like you. You’re the same age as them.” The victims, he was saying the victims were too similar to you for his own comfort. You hadn’t really given it much thought. If you start comparing yourself to the victims, you’d freeze up. That was a luxury you couldn’t afford.
“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you comforted, curling up next to him.
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i've been the archer, i've been the prey
The call came at five in the morning, only four hours after you had gone to sleep. Splitting up into two SUVs, half of you went to the precinct while the other half of you went to the crime scene.
“Katherine Meadows was dumped in front of the school,” Emily said, leading you, Tara, and Rossi into the precinct. You were still pulling your blazer on over your tank top, having been given approximately five minutes between waking up and getting out the door.
You stopped in your tracks; your mouth went dry. You knew of the other victims, but you were friends with Katherine. She helped you pay for your plane ticket out of here. You owed her your life, and now you’d never be able to repay her.
“What kind of school is it? Elementary? High school?” Rossi asked, flipping through a file that had been left on a desk.
Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head, “It’s K-12 all in the same building, that’s why it’s such a big deal that it’s gone.” You looked at the whiteboard, there weren’t any pictures of Katherine up yet, but you could imagine it. She looked more like you than the other victims, and you silently cursed Spencer for putting those thoughts in your head.
“Agent Y/L/N,” you heard Johnny call from behind you, he and your father were charging toward you at an alarming pace. “Are you armed?”
Your head snapped up, “yes,” you answered, putting your hand on your holstered weapon, watching as Johnny and Frank pulled their guns out.
“Please hand over your firearm to Detective Klein and put your hands up,” Frank commanded.
Taking a deep breath, you handed the weapon over to Johnny, facing him directly. It gave you tunnel vision, and you couldn’t even hear the protests of your team as you raised your hands level with your head.
Johnny grabbed your wrists, and you hissed as he cuffed you, the metal cutting into your skin when he made the handcuffs too tight. “Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murders of Victoria Reynolds, Melanie Baylor, and Katherine Meadows. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.” He shoved you in the direction of the interrogation room, “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”
An officer opened the door, and he pushed you down into a metal chair, hooking your handcuffs to the table in front of you.He continued reading your rights, “If you decide to answer questions without an attorney present, you will still have the right to cease answering at any time until you are able to talk to an attorney.” Johnny said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Do you understand your rights?”
You glared up at him, “What the hell are you doing, Johnny?”
He slammed a palm on the table, “Do you understand your rights?”
Pursing your lips, you looked away and peered right at the glass window ahead of you, “Yes, I understand my rights.”
“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” He asked, leaning far too close to you, you could smell the cigarette smoke on his uniform. That smell was on you for years after you left, you were convinced you’d never be able to fully wash it off. Maybe you hadn’t.
You seethed up at him, “fuck no.”
Johnny nodded assuredly, opening the door to the interrogation room, and slamming it shut.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to pull the handcuffs away from where it was pinching your skin, you winced when it tore your skin. You set your head down on the cold table and sigh, knowing you should’ve taken Emily’s offer to stay behind when you had the chance.
Another officer came in later and told you they wanted your jacket and shoes for evidence, you didn’t fight them, numbly watching as he unlocked the handcuffs and took your jacket before putting the cuffs back on, just as tight. You kicked off your shoes for the officer and sat back down. Before he left, another officer came in and dropped an evidence box on the table.
It was an FBI scare tactic to leave an empty evidence box on an interrogation room table, but your box wasn’t empty.
They wanted to humiliate you in front of your team, and it was working. 
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all the king's horses, all the kings men, couldn't put me together again
The next people to open the door were Charlie and Tara, they sat down across from you. “I’m really sorry about all of this Y/N,” he muttered to you, pulling some files out of the evidence box.
You shrugged and shook your head, “Nothing Johnathan Klein does to me anymore really surprises me.” You looked at the files.
Charlie was hesitant to open the files, “there’s some rough stuff in here if you’re okay with going over some of it with us.”
Swallowing thickly, you looked at the file, “I don’t really have a ton of choice, do I?”
You hated both of them for pitying you, but more than anything you hated your father and Johnny for doing this to you and wasting time while there was a serial killer on the loose. He opened the file and placed pictures of the three victims in front of you.
For a couple of minutes, he asked general questions. Do you know them? How did you know them?
Then Tara finally asked a question, “Y/N, how old were you when your mother died?” She asked you, placing a photo of you and your mom in front of you. You were probably seven in the picture.
“Ten,” you answered, looking at the picture. You wondered if you could keep it once this was all over.
“When you were ten, you started a string of hospital visits that lasted until you were twenty years old. Broken ribs, concussions, fractures, and��� a miscarriage,” Tara said, your eyes snapped up to look at her.
Your mouth went dry “You had Garcia unseal my files?” You couldn’t help the hurt in your voice.
The way Tara looked at you, you could tell she understood you in a whole new light now, “we had to. She felt horrible doing it.” That you didn’t doubt, the whole team had a mostly unspoken rule on inter-team profiling. You nodded understandingly.
“Y/N, do you have an alibi for the murders? We already cleared up that you weren’t working, but can anyone account for your whereabouts?” Charlie asked impatiently, he knew you didn’t do this, and it might not be his case anymore, but you could still tell he wanted it solved.
Looking directly at Tara, you answered the question, “No, I wasn’t with anyone.”
Your coworker set her jaw as Charlie got up and left.
“How did you get those injuries, Y/N?” Tara continued her line of questioning, setting a packet of medical records in front of you. You were still cuffed, so all you could do was touch the papers with your fingertips.
The paper read of chromosomes and a D&C, you couldn’t help the tears that flooded your eyes, “I- uh. I don’t want to look at that, please.”
Quickly, Tara pulled the papers away, “who hurt you?”
You bit your lip to stifle a cry, “Tara, please.” You knew what was going on, the only person who knew everything was retaliating against the precinct. They humiliated you, so she was going to humiliate them. She repeated the question and this time you answered, “My father.”
“Was your father also the father of your baby?” She asked, looking down at the papers. Honestly, she looked just about as uncomfortable as you were.
Solemnly, you shook your head, “That was Johnny. We were together from when I was fifteen until I was twenty. My dad-“ Your voice broke off, “Frank never touched me like that.”
“Can you tell me more about Frank?” She asked softly, the way she spoke to victims. The one thing you had tried to avoid.
Blearily, you looked up at your friend, “Can we take a break?”
Nodding, Tara stood up. When she opened the door, you heard shouting. People asking if your cuffs could be taken off. You just let your tears fall for a moment. Charlie came back and unlocked your cuffs, looking at the dried blood on them and the still bleeding wounds on your wrists, “I- I think we have a first aid kit somewhere.”
You brushed him off, waiting for him to leave and for Tara to come back. She did, draping a sweater over the table, and you tentatively grabbed it. Sighing when you recognized it as Spencer’s, “Has everyone seen the paperwork?”
She nodded slowly, “are you alright to talk to me about Frank now?”
You used your newly freed hands to wipe under your eyes before pulling the cardigan on. “It was my mom, she took everything he threw at her to protect me,” you whispered. “He hit me when I was ten, I had gotten a bad grade in social studies. So, my mom and I planned to leave, but he figured it out,” you said, furrowing your brows at the memory. “He strangled her, and she died. He told everyone she hung herself. The whole town believed him because he was the chief of police.”
Tara wrote something down, “he killed her in front of you?”
You nodded, “He needed someone else to take his aggression out on after that, so he beat me.” You told her, fiddling with the hem of Spencer’s sweater. “So, when I was fifteen and I met a boy, I thought I had found the answers to all of my problems, but I really had just discovered more.”
“The boy was Johnathan Klein?”
Affirming her question again, you continued your story, “he was a horny fifteen-year-old boy, and he had sex with me even when I begged him not to. He told me he had to because he loved me, and I believed him.”
Tara leaned over and looked you in the eyes, “You know that wasn’t your fault.”
“Wasn’t it?” You asked meekly, tilting your head to the side. “He proposed to me the day we graduated from high school. I had already accepted the fact that I was never getting out of the town, but what I didn’t know was by getting engaged to him I was very nearly signing my own death certificate.” You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the ache in your chest, “I found out I was pregnant when I was nineteen, and looking back at it now, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”
Tara didn’t speak, she just listened. You supposed that was the psychologist in her, letting you take the lead in your own story.
You furrowed your brows as you tried to bring memories that you had spent so long burying to the surface. “I knew I couldn’t make my baby go through the same thing I went through, so I tried to run, but I didn’t get far. He found me, he beat me, he brought me to the hospital, and he told me I killed our baby.” You could see the story was bothering Tara. When you told Emily, you told her in pieces over the span of a month. “The only people I was allowed to see after that were my dad, Johnny, and Katherine.” You wiped tears from your face, “the judge wouldn’t grant me a restraining order, my only option was to run. So, when Kath showed up with a plane ticket and an envelope of cash, I took the opportunity and left.”
“Y/N, do you think these murders could be somehow connected to your upbringing here?” Tara asked, flipping through another file.
You looked back at the glass that separates the observation room, having no idea who was on the other side listening. “I didn’t until Reid said the victims looked like me,” you confessed. It felt too convenient, victims looking like you, you being framed for their murders. Yet, you still made sure not to call Spencer by his first name, afraid of giving yourself away. “Do they have any evidence?”
“They found soil from the factory crime scene on your shoes, but your jacket is still being processed. Without an alibi, we can’t get them to release you,” Tara said.
Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in the chair, “Of course, they found soil from the factory crime scene on my shoes, I was at the scene yesterday.”
The door opened and Frank stepped inside, “Your alibi spoke up.” He sounded irritated, but not as irritated as he’s going to be once the BAU is through with him.
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i see right through me
Spencer had settled you down on a desk in the corner of the precinct, disinfecting the cuts on your wrists made by Johnny’s handcuffs. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, watching as he cleaned the debris from your torn skin.
He didn’t respond, he just shook his head. You could tell he was thinking, as clearly as if you could see gears physically turning in his head.
“Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whispered, bending your neck to try to catch his eyes.
He shook his head again, “I’m not upset, not with you at least.”
You raised your eyebrows in suspicion, “Then stop getting so lost in thought. What’s bothering you?”
He clasped both of your hands in his own, setting them in your lap, “Does it feel like a coincidence to you that the same night Johnny told us about the school the woman who helped you escape an abusive relationship was found dead at that school?” Spencer dropped your hands, reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out bandages before gingerly wrapping your wrists. At work, you tried to keep the public displays to a minimum, but you felt like these were extenuating circumstances, which was why you had secluded yourselves in the corner.
“I need to look at the crime scene photos again,” you said, trying to get off of the desk.
Spencer firmly placed both of his hands on your hips, effectively keeping you in place. “Once I’m done,” he whispered, securing the bandages on your wrists. “Are you alright?”
You tilted your head up at him and smiled sadly, “Everyone learned a lot about me today. Some of it I had never intended on telling them. I just feel… exposed? Raw?” You searched desperately for the right word to use to describe exactly how you feel.
Hanging your head low, your eyes traced patterns in the carpet when Spencer hooked a finger gently under your chin and lifted your head, so you were looking at him. His honey-colored eyes searched your face, and you felt like he was looking right through you. “You know nothing that happened today makes any of us see you differently, right? I don’t think of you as any less of a person because of what I learned today.”
You shook your head, “You don’t learn those things about your girlfriend and look at her the same.”
“You’re right. I don’t look at you the same, I’m even more in awe of you now than I was before. The fact that you’ve been through what you’ve been through and you’re this bright, shiny person sitting in front of me is astounding, but…” His voice trailed off.
Here it was, he couldn’t want who you were. He didn’t want the heavy history that comes with you. You shut your eyes.
He cupped your face with his hands, “it makes me worry that maybe I haven’t been there for you enough. Not in the same way you’re there for me.”
“Spence,” you whispered, swallowing back your emotions, and looking up at him.
Spencer shook his head, “I love you, and I have to make sure that you know that I’m always going to be there when you need me.”
Nodding rapidly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him, “I know.” Your voice was little more than a rasp, “I know, I love you too.”
After assuring Emily and Tara that your friendship was intact, you turned to the team. “I think I play a bigger part in this case than I realize.”
“We were just coming to a similar conclusion, once we saw what Katherine Meadows looked like, it just confirmed our suspicions,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard, which now had Kath’s picture on it, as well as yours. “The whole town seems to have it out for you, though. How do we narrow down the suspect pool?”
You stepped up to the whiteboard, “Because it’s not about the locations and their relation to the town, it’s about the locations and their relation to me.” You pointed to the factory, “When I was fifteen, this was the first place Johnny ever assaulted me.”
“You said he proposed to you at your high school graduation, right?” Tara said, “That’s the connection to the school.”
Nodding, you continued, “And we were going to get married at the church.”
Spencer wrote this all down on the whiteboard as you fit the pieces of this puzzle together. “Is there anywhere else that would fit in with these other locations?”
Flipping through a file, you set papers down on the desk in front of your team. “That’s our house, it was set on fire not long after I left,” you pointed out. “That’s where he’s going next.”
“But who will his victim be? If we can get to her before he can, then we can stop him before he gets to her,” Matt mentioned.
Slowly, you turned around and faced your team, “I don’t intend on letting anyone else get hurt. This is between me and Johnny.”
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who could stay?
You sat yourself down at the dining room table. Nothing in the house had been moved, its charred remains were left defenseless against Mother Nature. You knew this table, there was blood ground into the wood grain. It was your blood.
You wished they had torn the rest of the structure down.
Spencer didn’t like the idea of you going alone, but you were armed, and you had an earpiece in. You weren’t alone, the team was nearby in case things went wrong.
“Incoming, blue pick-up pulling into the driveway,” Luke said through the radio. “Suspect’s getting out, it doesn’t look like anyone’s with him.”
Realistically, you knew nothing was going to happen to you, but there was some small voice in the back of your head that told you something was going to go awry.
You wiped your sweaty palms on the floral-patterned chair. Part of you was grateful that the team had enough faith in you to send you to get a confession on your own, but another part of you wished someone would’ve asked you if this is really what you want to do. Sure, you wanted Johnathan Klein to be put away for a long time, but you didn’t want to be in this house. When you left, you had hoped you’d never have to set foot in this godforsaken town ever again.
Sitting up straight, the front door opened. You’re not sure why he opens the door when there’s a hole in the wall leading right to you. “I thought you might come looking for me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I always knew you’d come back to me, baby,” Johnny spoke to you in a low voice, but you knew the team could hear.
“I didn’t come here for you, Johnny,” you whispered, keeping your voice steady. “I came for the girls who were murdered. I knew them, we both did,” you told him. That was the truth, you felt like you owed them because they died while you got to live.
He sat next to you, placing a hand on your knee. It was all you could do to not flinch away from him. “Then why did you bring that guy? If not to make me jealous, then why?”
“Johnny, if I go with you, will it stop?” You asked, turning to him, reaching out your hand, and placing it on his arm.
Humming, he reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear, luckily not the side where you had your earbud in. “I don’t know what you mean, babe. You’ll have to spell it out for me,” he said, pulling you to your feet abruptly. You didn’t see the knife when he first walked in, you didn’t even know he had it until it was to your throat.
But you weren’t twenty years old anymore. You had grown up. You had learned self-defense.
So, you caught him off guard when you hit him, causing the knife to clatter to the ground. “You bitch!” He growled, “I’ll fucking kill you!”
“You won’t kill me,” you said, planting your feet on the ground. “You had five years to kill me, Johnny.”
He stood up, “No, but I killed a part of you. Didn’t I? When I killed your baby?”
After all these years, he knew how to get under your skin. He got one hit off, across your cheek, the strike so hard that your earbud went flying across the room. “You killed the part of me that you created, that’s not who I am. I recreated myself, a version of myself without this godforsaken town.”
“But I got you here, back home. I killed all those girls for you to come back to me,” he said, running straight at you.
You hit him with your gun, you physically struck him with the butt of the gun. You could’ve shot him, it would’ve been clean, but you didn’t. That would’ve been easy for him. He dropped like a ragdoll and the rest of your team came rushing in. Someone was calling your name, but you couldn’t hear.
Matt ended up being the one who cuffed him, you slowly walked away from them. Backing yourself into a wall, you watched it all happen.
When you left your hometown, you never quite felt like it was over. He was always still going to be around. But this? This felt final.
It made your chest ache.
Gently, Spencer took your hand and led you outside. “It’s done?”
He nodded rapidly, “It’s over, angel. Emily and Luke are at the precinct taking Frank into custody. They’ll both go away for a long time.”
“Spence, I want to go home,” you whispered, looking down the road and seeing houses that you recognize from your childhood. This whole town was filled with your own ghosts. “Can we go home?”
Spencer didn't answer, he just pulled you into him and held you tightly. You let him inspect the wound on your cheek before you went back to the hotel and put everyone’s belongings in an SUV.
On the jet, the two of you sequestered yourselves in the back where it’s darker. He offered to let you lie down, so you rested your head in his lap. He used one hand to hold his book and the other to smooth your hair back. Your eyes were shut, but you were vaguely aware of the rest of the team as they took turns peeking back at the both of you.
you could stay
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umbrellacam · 7 months ago
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Saw a post where someone wasn't sure if Tim being good at computers was a fanon thing or not and friend I am happy to inform you that he's been a computer/tech guy from some of his earliest appearances in the comics.
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Detective Comics (Vol. 1) #620 (Rite of Passage part 4) - immersed in the ~web~
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Robin II: The Joker's Wild #3 - tabletop roleplaying games and spending hours in the basement on the computer - not beating the geek allegations on these fronts, Timmy
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Detective Comics (Vol. 1) #676 - Dick was more into traditional detective work and tended to outsource the computer stuff in these days
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Batman (Vol. 1) #514 (Prodigal part 10) - hackin' through all the garbage and garble
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Robin (1993) #33 - Robin sneaking in and connecting Oracle with the baddies' mainframe so she can do her thing and steal all their data >:)
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Nightwing (1996) #6 - "no you're really talented and well suited to be Robin." "no, you." "no, YOU!"
Tim is definitely not as good as Babs/Oracle, but he's certainly her back-up for computer work in the 90's batfam. They're tech buddies and Robin!Tim is her little assistant sometimes, it's super cute:
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Birds of Prey (1999) #19 - happy to play with big sister's fancy high-powered toys
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Legends of the Dark Knight (1989) #125 - real cute kid
And Dick will hand off computer jobs to his little brother when he doesn't want to bother Babs 😂 (that outsourcing I mentioned):
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Nightwing (1996) #68 - examine them pixel by pixel, eh? welp, sounds like a job only you can do, Timbo, you got this buddy, byyyyeeeee
And then when he'd grown up and been doing this for years, he leveled up accordingly, and did stuff like use his access to the League of Assassins computers to overload the generators in every base he could find, etc. etc.
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Red Robin (2009) #8 - yeah that was pretty dumb of you Ra's :)
So yeah, it was a bit of a specialty of Tim's, in large part because he was introduced just at the turn into the 90's, when personal computers were really starting to take off and become widespread. (Robins gotta be cutting edge and all)
Of course, by no means does it follow that the other Bats suck at computers (there is no 'smart one' they are all incredibly smart and capable). This is especially true as reboots and the sliding timescale of comics have moved the DC characters into modern times, where computers run the world and everyone grows up with one in their pocket. The baseline familiarity and expertise that everyone can be expected to have is just much, much higher these days.
It gets exaggerated in fanon as all character traits do, but computer guy Tim is definitely not something just made up out of whole cloth :)b
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incognit0slut · 5 months ago
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Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene I: The Suspicious Scheme)
The three times you sense something strange when everyone pairs you with Spencer, and the one time you understand why.
Part warning: Definitely inaccuracy in autopsy procedures and Spencer’s educational background, it’s hard writing a genius Words: 5.6k (not proofread, I’ll do it when I have the time so please excuse me if you see any mistakes) A/n: I tried to make this part shorter but I gave up. I hope you don’t mind reading more😌
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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I. The Forced Partner
There was usually a system when Hotch paired the team up, a method to his leadership that balanced skills and personalities to get the job done efficiently. But as Spencer and you were directed to the autopsy room together, you couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch was pushing his luck—or preferably yours.
It was weird. Two weeks had gone by since the last case where he had to witness you both sparring, and you would’ve thought he’d keep you apart. Yet here you were, together again, stepping into the cold, sterile room. 
The faint smell of antiseptic filled the air as you pulled on your gloves, the latex snapping against your wrists. A woman in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, turned to greet you and Spencer. She extended a hand. 
“I’m Dr. Nina Patel, I’ll be overseeing the autopsy today. You must be from the BAU.”
You nodded, shaking her hand firmly. 
“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” you introduced, gesturing towards Spencer, who offered a brief nod and a tight lip smile in greeting. Dr. Patel returned the gesture and motioned for you both to approach the table. 
“Our Jane Doe was found early this morning in an alleyway downtown," she explained, pulling back the sheet to reveal a woman appearing in her late thirties. "There are no apparent injuries, and no ID was found with her.”
Spencer stepped closer. "Any indication of the time of death?" 
"Preliminary estimates put the time of death at approximately eight hours before she was found."
You watched as she started pointing to various parts of the body. 
"She was also found with her clothes in perfect condition. It’s possible she was placed there post-mortem."
Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Could suggest transportation from another location.”
You moved to the head of the table, examining Jane Doe's hands and nails. "No defensive wounds," you added. "She didn't fight back, or more likely, wasn't conscious during her final moments."
Dr. Patel nodded as she considered your observations. “It’s plausible that a strong sedative was used, which would leave minimal to no struggle marks. We’re running some tests as we speak.”
Spencer chimed in quickly after that. “The Unsub might have used succinylcholine, or even benzodiazepines,” he suggested. Then, turning toward you with a condescending tone as if simplifying it for your benefit, he added, “They’d metabolize quickly and would require a toxicology screen to detect definitively.”
You rolled your eyes.
“That’s impressive, Dr. Reid,” Dr. Patel remarked, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer than seemed strictly professional. You narrowed your eyes at her. “Did you study pharmacology formally, or is this a passion of yours?”
“I actually did a bit of formal study during my Ph.D. programs.”
“Oh, really? What did you study?”
“Chemistry and Engineering. Pharmacology intersects quite a bit with those fields, especially when looking at biochemical reactions.”
Dr. Patel seemed genuinely impressed. “That’s quite a formidable educational background. No wonder you’re so thorough with your analyses.”
You could feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Her admiration was professional, sure, but the way her eyes softened when she looked at him, the way her voice dipped just so—it was a tone you recognized all too well.
She was flirting with him.
You watched them, your gaze sharp and assessing. Although it wasn’t like Spencer to notice her advances; he was smart, yes, but his brilliance often left him oblivious to the layers of personal interaction that didn’t involve textbooks or theories. And Dr. Patel, with her easy smile and obvious interest, seemed to have her focus on him rather than the body lying between you.
You cleared your throat, louder than necessary.
“Can we continue?” 
Dr. Patel seemed to catch your eye, her expression shifting back to professional as she nodded. “Of course.”
She resumed her explanation, detailing the various findings and pointing out subtle indicators on the body that might have otherwise gone unnoticed. Spencer listened intently, his gaze shifting between Dr. Patel and you, noticing the subtle tension in the room, but didn’t comment.
It wasn’t until you had all the information you needed—and after you caught one last flirtatious look from Dr. Patel directed at him—that Spencer finally spoke up.
“She seems nice,” he remarked as you both stepped outside the building, heading toward the parking lot.
You shrugged. “Sure, if you say so.”
Spencer glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Am I missing something?” 
You looked over at him, debating whether to explain, before you finally sighed. 
“It’s just... she seemed a bit more interested in you than the case,” you said, trying to keep your tone light but failing to hide your slight irritation.
And then he noticed it. The subtle tension in your voice, the way you avoided his gaze, the underlying frustration—it clicked. “Wait, are you... jealous?”
“No, I’m not!” You replied quickly, then softer, “I’m not.”
“You sound like it.”
You scoffed. “No, I sound like a friend trying to remind you that we have a case to focus on.”
“Oh, so now we’re friends?”
“I meant that in the broadest, most professional sense of the word.”
“Right,” Spencer replied sarcastically. “I didn’t realize jealousy was part of professional behavior.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” you snapped. “Stop making it into something it’s not.”
“Sure.”
“Reid.”
“Y/L/N,” he shot back in the same flat tone.
Dear God, why was he so infuriating? How he had this ability, this perfectly annoying talent to get under your skin without seeming to try was beyond you. You both stared at each other for a while, until finally, you broke the silence with an exasperated sigh.
“Let’s just go,” you muttered, brushing past him.
You walked a few steps ahead, trying to shake off his words. It was absurd. The very idea was ridiculous when you were focused on the case, on solving the mystery—nothing more.
You were not jealous.
II. The Unavoidable Flight
“I’m telling you, she was definitely flirting with him,” you said, your voice a mix of disbelief and annoyance as you and Penelope made your way toward the plane. “It was so obvious, the way she kept looking at him, the tone of her voice. I mean, does professional decorum mean nothing anymore?”
“Why are you acting so surprised? Wonder Boy is actually quite the catch,” Penelope responded. “He’s not my type, but he clearly has admirers.”
Your eyes involuntarily drifted toward the man in question, who was walking a few paces behind, engaged in conversation with JJ. He was casually gripping the strap of his satchel bag, laughing at something JJ had just said. You narrowed your eyes.
“Well, I don’t understand what they see in him.”
“It might be that genius brain of his—totally irresistible to some.”
“It’s annoying, is what it is,” you grumbled, quickening your pace as the plane came into view.
Penelope responded with a sly grin. “You know what you sound like?”
“What?”
“Like someone who’s maybe a little jealous.”
You frowned, hating how she was the second person to conclude your irritation with something else. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on. You seem unusually focused on how others interact with him.”
“I’m focused on maintaining a professional work environment,” you defended, trying to keep your voice even as you approached the steps of the plane. “Not about… whatever you’re implying.”
“Fine. If Dr. Patel makes her move and actually calls him, what would you do?”
Your eyes widened. “What? Who did you hear that from? Did he tell you? When did she call him?”
“Hypothetically, oh my god,” Penelope laughed, stepping onto the plane as you followed, slightly flustered. “I’m just saying, hypothetically, if it happened, what would you do? How would you react?”
You paused at the entrance, processing her question. “I’d do nothing.”
“Nothing? Really?”
“Yes, I’d do nothing because I’m not jealous.”
“That’s what any jealous person would say.”
You narrowed your eyes at her as you walked past the entrance, and when you caught her making herself comfortable on the long couch by the front, you quickly made your way to the back of the plane.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“To find a spot where my supposed jealousy isn’t your inflight entertainment,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I knew you were jealous!”
“Supposed jealousy!”
Her laughter trailed after you, ringing down the narrow aisle as you navigated through the plane, bypassing Rossi, who was typing away on his phone, and Hotch, who sat across from him with his eyes closed, leaning back against his seat. You walked further down the aisle until you spotted an empty spot at the very back of the plane, looking very isolated and inviting.
It was perfect.
“Garcia! That’s my usual spot,” Spencer’s unmistakable voice echoed through the plane as you made yourself comfortable in your chair.
From the corner of your eye, you could see him standing over Penelope, a hand gesturing toward the seat while his other hand clutched his bag.
“But it’s so comfortable,” Penelope responded, settling deeper into the plush seat. “Come on, Reid, I don’t travel as much as you do. Let me have it.”
Spencer paused, his initial protest fading as he took in Penelope’s exaggerated comfort. “Where would I sit?”
“You can sit…”
You quickly closed your eyes. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t–
“Over there! There’s an empty spot in front of Y/N.”
You were going to kill her.
You sank deeper into your chair, hoping to avoid any forced small talk or, worse, awkward silence with him. Maybe if you were lucky enough, he’d pick another chair—perhaps next to Hotch, or Rossi, or—
A cough interrupted your thoughts.
“I know you’re pretending to sleep.”
Reluctantly, you opened one eye, peeking at him.
"Mind if I sit here?"
For a moment, you considered ignoring him, but the look on his face told you he wasn’t going to let it go. You rolled your shoulders, giving up the pretense, and sat up straighter.
“Actually, yes, I do mind.”
He raised an eyebrow but lowered himself onto the seat anyway, clearly unfazed by your objection.
"Reid,” you warned him. “I’m serious.”
"I know you are.” His eyes briefly swept around the cabin as he settled into the seat across from you, placing his satchel bag on his lap. "But every other seat is taken. Unless you want me to stand in the aisle for the next few hours?"
You rolled your eyes, letting out a resigned sigh as you crossed your arms. "Fine, but I'm reserving the right to nap, and you're reserving the right to not disturb that nap."
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He leaned forward in his seat. “Do you know that you snore when you sleep?”
You gasped. “I do not!”
“You do. You sound like a little chainsaw.”
You gaped at him. The idea of a rough, grating noise being associated with you was almost laughable, and yet here he was, completely serious. You were unsure whether to be amused or offended.
“A chainsaw? That’s what you’re going with?”
“Well, considering the average chainsaw operates at around 90 decibels, I'd say it's an appropriate comparison."
“Don’t make me throw you off the plane.”
He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Just so you know, certain sleep positions can actually help reduce snoring. Maybe you should try—ouch!”
You nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make your point clear. He rubbed his leg and glanced up at you with a wry expression.
“Consider that your first and only warning,” you stated firmly before closing your eyes, signaling the end of the conversation.
“See, your position is all wrong, if you slightly elevate your—”
“Good night, Reid.”
There was suddenly a moment of silence, the kind that feels almost tangible, stretching out in the small space between you. Then, you heard it—a slight, barely audible chuckle.
You wondered if your mind was playing tricks on you, the sound so faint that it seemed it could easily be a figment of your imagination. But no, there it was again, a soft, amused sound that had you frowning even with your eyes closed.
“Good night, Y/N.”
Maybe you were already dreaming.
III. The Lock-in Incident
“Y/N,” JJ’s voice chimed from behind you while you were gathering a stack of folders on your desk. “Can you take these down to the filing room? Spencer’s already down there reorganizing some of the older case files.”
You eyed the thick folder in JJ’s hands. When there wasn’t an active case, the team often spent time organizing and maintaining the archives. As tedious as it was, it was a necessary task, and normally, you wouldn’t mind lending a hand.
But the sound of his name made you pause because working with him in a confined space seemed very much unappealing.
“Why are you asking me?”
“Aren’t you going there?” She asked, her gaze shifting to the folders in your hands.
Internally, you groaned. Yes, you were headed there, that had been the plan. But now that you knew Spencer was there, every step towards that cramped, paper-stuffed room felt like walking into a minefield.
“Maybe you should go down there instead.”
“I can’t,” she responded, already adding her folders to your pile. “I’ve got to finish my other reports before the end of the day.”
Your eyes glanced over to Derek’s desk across from you. “Morgan?”
He turned over a page in the file he was reading, not even looking up. “Sorry, Pretty Girl, I got my hands full with this case report.”
“Oh, come on.” You stormed over to him, desperation edging into your voice. “I’ll do you a favor—anything you want.”
Derek glanced up, finally giving you his attention, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Anything I want?”
“Within reason.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, but I really can’t. This report’s due in an hour.”
Frustrated, you glanced over towards Emily’s desk, hoping for a backup, but groaned when you saw it was empty.
You finally sighed, feeling the weight of your options—or lack thereof—settle on your shoulders. You gathered the heavy folders in your arms, the paper edges digging slightly into your skin. It was just a few hours, you reasoned; you could manage Spencer. He could be insufferable, but you had your own ways of being equally annoying.
With a deep breath, you headed toward the filing room, mentally preparing yourself. He was already busy sorting through a pile of disorganized paperwork when you got there, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“I have more work for you,” you announced in a sing-song voice.
Spencer looked up, his eyes scanning the sight of the hefty folders in your arms. “Nope. They’re yours, not mine.”
You paused, leaning on the table filled with sorted files. “Are you sure you want me to do this by myself? Because, you know, I might just rearrange what you’ve already organized here. It would be a shame if all your hard work got… scrambled.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he quickly warned. “Hand them over. I’ll do it myself.”
You moved closer and placed the folders next to his neatly arranged stacks, deliberately nudging them just enough to seem accidental.
“Really?” he said, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he carefully realigned the folders you had nudged. “You know, we could actually get this done much faster if you’re not acting like a child.”
“Oh, please. Like you’re the mature one.”
“At least I’m trying to get the job done, not make it harder.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so uptight about every little detail, it wouldn’t be so hard,” you shot back, grabbing another stack of files to sort.
“I’m not uptight. I’m precise. There’s a difference.”
“Sure there is.”
Spencer opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get the words out, the sudden sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the cramped room. Both of you turned around simultaneously.
“Did that just…?” He began, stepping towards the door and trying the handle. It didn’t budge. He jiggled it again, more forcefully this time. “Great, it’s locked.”
“What?” You walked over, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “Who the hell locked it?”
“I don’t think anyone did. These old doors… they stick. It’s probably just jammed,” Spencer explained, though his voice carried a hint of doubt.
Yeah, right, you thought, your skepticism growing. Despite his logical explanation, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a coincidence. The timing was just too perfect, and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone might have been behind this.
But then the reality of the situation sank in. Your immediate concern shifted to the fact that you were trapped here, with him, until someone realized you were missing. The prospect was both frustrating and daunting.
“Look, let’s just keep working,” he suggested. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can figure out how to get out of here.”
You nodded, though a part of you wanted to argue. “Fine. But if we’re still stuck here by the time we’re done, you’re explaining this to Hotch.”
“We’ll get out, don’t worry.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” You picked up a folder from the pile, flipping it open to look over its contents. “How do I do this?”
“Sort them by case type first, then by date within each type.”
“So, this one would go under…?”
“Unsolved homicides,” Spencer replied, taking a quick peek at the document you held open. “And make sure it’s in chronological order with the others.”
You moved to the designated shelf, sliding the folder into its appropriate spot before returning to grab another. “Wait,” you opened the file, your eyes scanning the page. “I think this was my first case.”
You read through the document and nodded.
“Yes, look, it’s the one where the Unsub was targeting families with children,” you reminisced, your mind going back to the time when you were still new to the job. “That was such a hard case. Remember how I couldn’t stop crying? And how Hotch had to debrief me because I was still shaking even after we made the arrest?”
When you were met with silence, you looked up to see his back facing you, seeming too busy as he organized his files. You closed the document in your hands and walked back toward the shelf.
“Of course, you don’t remember,” you muttered under your breath. “Why would you even remember?”
A twinge of disappointment settled in your chest, even though you hated to admit it. It was stupid, really, to expect him to recall every little detail from the past, especially when it had to do with you. But just as you turned to grab another file, Spencer’s voice stopped you.
“October 19, 2011.”
You paused, turning slowly to face him, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”
“The date you started working here,” Spencer said, still focused on his task. “You wore a black blouse and the brightest shade of red on your lips.”
You blinked, trying to understand what he was getting at.
“The case was in St. Louis,” Spencer continued, now looking up to meet your gaze directly. “Your first field assignment. You told Hotch you were ready, but the case really got to your head.”
You found yourself at a loss for words, realizing what he was trying to do.
“You cried when you came back from talking with the victim’s family. You cried when the second victim was found. You cried when we finally caught the Unsub.”
You continued to stare at him, not knowing how to process his words.
“You also cried when I sat beside you on the plane.”
He remembered.
The realization struck you hard, almost like a physical blow. A part of you had convinced yourself that he barely noticed you, that any memory involving you was erased from his mind. But here he was, recalling not just any memory, but your first week when you joined the team, right down to the color of your lips.
“You…” The frown on your face deepened. “You remembered.”
There was a pause as he looked at you, his eyes carefully assessing your reaction. “It’s hard not to."
You held his gaze. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you were still on good terms. Would you smile at him now? Would you tell him that, yes, you also remembered how he allowed you to lean on his shoulder during that flight back home, despite the awkwardness of your first meeting when it seemed he’d rather keep his distance?
You shook your head, looking away from him. It was wishful thinking. Letting yourself dwell on what could have been would only lead to another heartbreak. You had learned to protect yourself, to keep your distance, because hoping for a return to those days would only make the present hurt more.
“Right,” you said, trying to keep your composure as you gripped the folder in your hand. “I forgot you have an eidetic memory.”
Spencer didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you, a quiet, lingering gaze that you felt more than saw. The room suddenly felt incredibly small, the walls seeming to close in around you as your fingers fumbled slightly with the papers, grabbing another file.
You needed to get out of here. You needed to regain control. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you can escape him.
IV. The Table For Two
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” You pressed, arms linked with JJ as you both walked down the sidewalk, your stride matching the quick tempo of your rising irritation. The accusation in your voice was clear, but JJ just offered a casual shrug, avoiding direct eye contact.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You expect me to believe it was an accident?” Your skepticism was palpable, and you watched as a small smirk played at the corner of her lips. “That the door coincidentally locked itself when we were both inside?”
“The doors are old,” she said, keeping her gaze forward, her steps even and unhurried. “You know how it is, sometimes if you even just shut them too hard, they jam. Could happen to anyone.”
Her tone was too nonchalant, too practiced, and you tugged on her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Right, and I suppose it was also just chance that the door closed by itself?”
JJ paused, finally facing you with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t do it.”
“Then somebody did.”
“Y/N,” she replied, her smile broadening in a way that only heightened your irritation. “Nobody did.”
You groaned, resuming your walk as you pulled her along. “You guys are so annoying.”
JJ laughed. “How did you get out of there anyway?”
You sighed, the memory of the escape bringing a frown to your face. The entire time you were locked in that room, you had done everything possible to avoid talking to him, focusing on shuffling through files and pretending to be absorbed in the work.
After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence and strained small talk, you both gave up trying to ignore the situation and started moving around the cramped space, phones held high, desperately trying to find a signal. When you finally managed to get a single bar, you quickly dialed Penelope, who answered with her usual upbeat tone, clearly amused by your predicament.
"We had to call Garcia to let us out,” you said, your tone dry. “She found the whole thing hilarious."
JJ's laughter grew as she imagined the scene. "She would have loved that. Probably made her day to rescue the two of you."
“She’s already teasing us about it.”
Her laughter slowly died down as she gave your arm a light tug. “Did anything happen while you two were in there?”
You hesitated, recalling the awkward silence, the shuffling of papers, and that brief, tensed exchange. “Not really,” you admitted. “We just tried to organize the files without screaming at each other.”
“But did you talk at all? I mean, really talk?”
“Jennifer,” you warned, the tone of your voice hinting that she was treading on uncomfortable territory. The thought of delving deeper into what had—or hadn’t—happened in that room was not something you were eager to talk about.
“I know, I know, it’s complicated,” she conceded. “Just thought it seemed like a good opportunity to maybe clear the air between you two.”
“Well, you thought wrong. There’s nothing to talk about.”
JJ looked at you skeptically, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see right through your defenses. She seemed on the verge of pushing further, but then her phone rang, interrupting the moment. She glanced at the screen and sighed, giving you an apologetic look. "Hold on, I need to take this. It's Will."
You nodded and watched as she stepped a few feet away to answer the call. You waited and tried to give her privacy, but it was hard when her words were clear as you listened to her talk, and the more she spoke, the more you narrowed your eyes at her.
“…right now… sure… no, it’s fine… I can be there in ten… of course, honey...”
You crossed your arms when JJ finally ended the call and turned back towards you.
"I need to head home,” she said, a bit too casually. “Will got called into work unexpectedly.”
Suspicion started to creep in as you processed her words. The timing was impeccable—a little too perfect. You both were supposed to meet up with Penelope and Derek for dinner, and it was almost guaranteed that Spencer would be there too, considering Derek had taken it upon himself to drag him along at any given chance under the pretense that ‘the kid needs to go out more’.
But the thought of JJ bailing on you on such short notice seemed out of pocket, even for her.
"Really, right now?" you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly. She shifted on her feet, her smile a bit forced. “Is everything okay?”
JJ nodded, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something that looked more like amusement than guilt. "Yeah, I just need to get home to the kids. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
The more she spoke, the more your suspicion grew. Her demeanor seemed too casual, almost rehearsed, as if she was trying to assure you while simultaneously eager to leave. It felt like she was in on some inside joke that you weren't aware of.
“Well, if you really have to go…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” JJ flashed a quick, almost relieved smile and gave you a hurried kiss on the cheek. “Have a good time tonight, and fill me in on all the details later.”
“Details? What details?” You called after her but she was already walking away. “JJ! Why do I have to fill you in the details?”
She simply waved a hand without turning back, leaving you standing there with a growing sense of unease. You slowly resumed your walk, taking out your phone to call Penelope but stopped in your tracks when you saw a message from her, sent five minutes ago.
Hey, Sweetie, so sorry I can’t make it to dinner tonight! Something urgent came up. Have fun without me :)
Your stomach dropped as you read the message. First JJ, and now Garcia? It was starting to feel like you were being abandoned, or worse, you were being set up. You glanced around, half expecting to see Derek lurking in the shadows with a mischievous grin, orchestrating this whole fiasco.
It wasn’t until you arrived at the restaurant and spotted Spencer alone at the entrance, trying to avoid any immediate contact with the other patrons, that you realized your suspicion was confirmed. The pieces clicked together almost too neatly, and the man seemed as surprised to see you as you were to see him.
His discomfort was evident as he adjusted his stance, gripping the strap of his bag, eyes darting to you as you approached him.
“Morgan’s late,” he announced as a greeting.
“He’s not coming,” you said, unable to keep the annoyance from creeping into your voice. “And neither is JJ or Penny.”
“He told you that?”
“No,” you replied with a sigh. “But it’s pretty obvious now, isn’t it?”
"What is?"
“That we’ve been set up,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “They’re not coming, and I’m willing to bet they never planned to.”
He frowned, his brows knitting together. “You think they did this on purpose? Why would they—”
“Come on, Reid,” you interrupted. “They’ve been nudging us to talk for weeks. What better way than to leave us no choice?”
Spencer’s gaze hardened slightly. “I don’t need to be manipulated into having a conversation,” he said sharply.
“And you think I do?” You retorted. “I’m not exactly thrilled about being tricked into a dinner date either, if that’s what this is supposed to be.”
“It’s not a date,” Spencer replied quickly, almost defensively.
“Well, that’s one thing we agree on,” you snapped, then sighed, trying to rein in your temper. “Look, I don’t want to argue. Let’s just forget this ever happened and go home.”
There was a pause as Spencer looked around, his eyes settling back on you. “You want to go home?”
“You don’t?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean, we’re already here. Might as well stay and eat. It’s not like I have any better plans.”
You blinked, taken aback by his response. A part of you had expected him to jump at the chance to escape, but here he was, suggesting you to stay.
It seemed like a bad idea. The tension, the potential for awkward silences, the possibility of yet another argument—it all pointed to leaving being the better option. But against our better judgment, you found yourself considering his suggestion more than you wanted to admit.
Maybe it was the hunger gnawing at your stomach, or perhaps it was the realization that leaving now would only make things more awkward the next time you saw each other. Dinner with Spencer was the last option you’d choose, but it was better than coming home to an empty fridge.
“Fine,” you finally said, brushing past him. “But you’re paying.”
Spencer looked momentarily surprised but then nodded. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
You rolled your eyes as you walked into the restaurant, but immediately stopped in your tracks when you took in the setting. This wasn’t just a restaurant, it was a place designed for dates. The realization made you pause as you looked around the room in horror.
The dim lighting cast a soft glow on polished wood and fine china, while a gentle melody played subtly in the background, setting an unmistakable romantic mood. Just as you were taking in the scene, a hostess approached with a warm, inviting smile. 
"A table for two?" 
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you realized how the evening was poised to look. Turning slightly to gauge Spencer's reaction, you found him even more flustered, his face turning a shade redder as he stammered a response. "Uh, yes, that's—um, that will be fine."
The hostess nodded and led you to a small, intimate table near the window. Spencer fidgeted with the strap of his bag as you both sat down, his eyes darting around the room before finally settling on you. "This is... not exactly what I expected.”
You took the menu from the hostess before she left you both alone. “I’m going to kill them,” you muttered, shaking your head.
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit extreme.”
You sighed, flipping through the menu without really seeing it. “They’re always meddling. They don’t know when to stop. I'm also convinced that being locked earlier was also part of their plan. And this—this is just so...” 
“Annoying?” He offered.
“Infuriating,” you emphasized, throwing your hands up. “It’s infuriating. And embarrassing. And—”
“And yet, here we are,” he cut in, feeling the same way. Spencer paused for a moment, then leaned in slightly, sending you a pointed look. “You know, maybe we should just give them what they want.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s a fact that humans are generally satisfied when they get what they want. And since what our friends want is for the two of us to get along, maybe we should just... pretend that we do.”
“Reid,” you pressed, mirroring his posture as you leaned forward. “They don’t want us to just get along. Look around us. They want us to really get along.” 
Spencer paused, considering your words, his gaze lingering on the candlelit table and the other couples around, deep in conversation. He seemed to realize the full extent of the setup, the romantic undertone that wasn't simply incidental but intentional.
“You’re right,” he finally responded, leaning back in his seat. “Forget what I said. It was stupid.”
You studied him as he opened the menu, the candlelight casting a soft glow on his face. He was right. Not only was it stupid, it was crazy. Pretending to be civil with him was one thing, pretending that you shared some kind of unspoken, lingering feelings was another thing. The mere thought of it made your heart race, but you couldn’t tell if it was from anxiety or nervousness.
You quickly shook your head. It was ridiculous. How could you even begin to pretend to have feelings for someone with whom you shared such a complicated past? How could you act like there was something more between you when the reality was so different?
The whole idea was far-fetched, almost laughable. You couldn’t imagine yourself romantically involved with him, even if it was just for pretend.
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hypewinter · 1 year ago
Text
Jason had been sitting in his living room, maintenancing his weapons when a circle appeared before him. It was big and swirling. It's hue very much akin to the sickening green of the Lazarus pits. He quickly realized the circle was in fact a portal as a teen stepped out of it. The teen wore surgical gloves and a mask over what appeared to be a hazmat suit. His hair was silver and seemed unaffected by gravity. Worse of all though, were his eyes that were that same damn color that Jason had long since grown to hate.
Jason grabbed two guns that were not currently taken apart and aimed them at the boy, taking a menacing step forward as he did so. "Who are you?" he growled. "What do you want?"
To his surprise, the boy didn't threaten him or gloat about some massive plan already under way. He didn't even offer some sort of vague, cryptic advice. Instead, the teen actually took a step back, covering his nose with one arm while putting the other up in surrender.
"Don't come any close!" he yelped. "The stench is already bad enough from here."
Jason blinked. What? "Excuse me?" was all he could utter.
The boy turned away slightly and dry heaved. "Ugh, so nasty."
Jason was having trouble figuring out what was going on. Even with his detective training. "Did you- did you just call me nasty?" he finally managed to splutter out.
The boy turned back to him, his eyes crinkling in utter disgust. "Uh, yeah. What else would you call a flea infested rat?"
"Flea infested-" Jason squawked.
"Listen could you just come with me so that we can get all of that taken care of asap," the boy said, gesturing towards Jason.
Regaining his composure a little, Jason tightened his grip on his weapons. "Hell no! I'm not going anywhere with you until you start explaining."
Despite having two guns pointed at his head, the teen only let out a deep sigh.
"Fine, have it your way." He replied, stepping towards Jason. The vigilante heard the kid mumbling, "You can do this. Think of it as handling a stinky baby. A very disease infested stinky baby," as he got closer and closer.
Jason fired off a warning shot next to the kid but the boy didn't even flinch. Fine, Jason thought. We can do this the hard way. He aimed at the boy's knee cap and fired. Only for the bullet to pass right through him. The boy neared him before picking him up like an unruly kitten. Jason went limp as he officially stopped processing what was happening. How the hell had this kid managed to lift him so effortlessly?
He didn't put up a fight as the boy turned around and led them both back through the portal, his arms outstretched as far away from his torso as possible. Jason's mind had just barely started to process information again when this weird furry, horned creature appeared in front of him.
"Ah Great One! You've returned," it said.
"Yeah yeah just hurry up and take this from me before I throw up!" the teen replied, setting Jason down and distancing himself.
The creature fixed the boy with a stern look. "That is not how we treat patients, Great One. Need I remind you? It was you who wanted to be my apprentice and all that entails. That includes treating our patients with the utmost professionalism. Regardless of your personal feelings."
The teen actually had the nerve to look sheepish, maybe even a little guilty. As if he hadn't just spent the last 5 minutes mercilessly insulting Jason.
The two continued talking for a time and Jason was more than happy to let them. It gave him time to process what the hell he was looking at and with any luck, they would let slip some crucial information. Instead however, they ended up discussing more about whatever this apprenticeship was before the weird looking creature turned back towards Jason.
"Apologies for the rudeness my apprentice has shown you," he said.
Jason muttered out an 'uh huh' in response.
The creature clapped his hands. "Now then, shall we get you examined?"
Examined? Jason staring blankly at the creature. Then he stared at the teen, hoping to gleam any info from their facial expressions. Nothing. And of course he did have his comms or his sos signal on him. Great, just great. What an absolutely craptastic situation he found himself in. He'd be sure to come back and haunt Bruce this time. Maybe even Dick. He swore that much.
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stellarbit · 7 months ago
Text
Caught on Camera
3.7k words - NSFW
Tech's loses a screw in his bed and finds your earring instead. He looks back through some camera footage to see how it may have gotten there. Turns out you had gotten more than comfortable in his cot.
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Piggyback's a tiny bit off of an earlier fic. Just barely though. Enjoyyy
***
Tech marched to his cot, flipping a few parts around in his hands as he went. They needed tweaking, possibly a complete overhaul, but regardless, he was set on documenting his repairs. He’d installed a motion sensor, barely detectable, microcamera in the upper corner of his cot for such occasions. While he rarely needed to review his procedures, he found satisfaction in adding to his archive.
Shoving aside chords and spare parts, Tech swung his feet up, unfazed by the clutter that surrounded him. His brothers often questioned how he managed to sleep amidst the chaos of tools and bolts scattered around him. To them, it was a horror, but to Tech, it was a carefully organized system . He found the idea of having to get up for common parts more horrific.
As Tech delicately removed a small screw, the piece slipped from his grasp, bouncing off his fingers, and, by the sounds of it, into the corner behind him. . With unwavering focus on the device before him, Tech maneuvered his fingers into the tight space, determined to retrieve the errant screw. The first thing he felt was definitely not the screw.
Examining the object in his hand, Tech raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Hold on," he muttered to himself, turning the item over in his palm. Upon closer inspection, it became evident that it wasn't a stray screw at all, but rather a piece of jewelry—a stud earring, to be precise. Intrigued, Tech glanced around his immediate surroundings, searching for any other anomalies, but found nothing amiss.
Glancing at the cot hanging on the opposite wall of the Marauder he had no doubt the earring was yours. The question lay in how it found its way into his cot. Closing his fist around the stud and setting aside his projects, Tech left his cot to grab his datapad. Once in hand, he settled back into his usual spot, plugging into the dataport next to his cot, and began sifting through the camera footage.
While Tech seldom needed to review the recordings, he was meticulous in his examination. As the footage played, he focused intently, scouring for any unexpected visitors in his personal space.
It didn’t take long for him to find the clip. More than 30 rotations ago, you appeared on screen, settling onto the edge of his cot, looked towards the exit, and pulled yourself fully up into the bunk. Mimicking your actions, Tech leaned out to survey the area for any potential interruptions before returning his attention to the footage, his curiosity piqued.
As Tech continued to watch the footage, he observed your relaxed demeanor as you settled into his space, making yourself at home. Your hands explored the surroundings, tracing the sketches adorning the wall and the edges of his bed before coming to rest on your stomach. Tech glanced at the pillow beside him, surprised he hadn’t picked up on your scent.
In the video, you leaned back, seemingly preparing to relax, prompting Tech's curiosity to peak. He watched intently as you closed your eyes briefly, a fleeting moment of apparent calm. However, your fingers soon began to fidget, and your eyes opened again, scanning over his drawings. Tech observed with a mixture of fascination and perplexity as you pulled your shirt from your pants, revealing the skin below your navel.
Tech didn’t have time to consider what you were doing before your hands got to work on your pants. Adjusting his goggles and bringing the datapad closer to his face, he watched intently as you deftly worked on your pants, effortlessly opening them just enough for your hand to slip inside. Even through the fabric, the movements of your fingers were unmistakable
Tech reared back slightly, his mind racing with thoughts. He paused the video, freezing the image of you lost in your own touch, unaware of the camera recording your actions. His thumb wandered along your silhouette, he’d witnessed you sleeping and caught you off guard on occasion but this felt very different.
Although you were technically intruding upon his personal space, Tech reasoned that you likely believed you were not being watched. Holding his breath, he hesitated for a moment before pressing play, eager to see how the situation would unfold.
Tech's eyes widened as a mixture of disbelief and arousal washing over him. Your actions were intimate in a way he hasn’t expected. His hand instinctively moved to adjust his goggles, his focus unwavering on the datapad screen as you continued.
Your hand dove farther into your pants while your free hand slid up your body and onto your chest. The hand on your chest mirrored a moment he couldn't forget—the moment he had separated you and Crosshair by means of a hand Crosshair’s shoulder and another your chest.
He heard you hushedly moan, “Tech.” The way you said his name sent a shiver down Tech's spine, his heart rate quickening in response.
He hesitated for a brief moment, torn between shutting off the video and continuing to watch. It wasn't until he felt the undeniable strain against his own pants that Tech finally forced himself to pause the recording. His mind raced as he pieced together the timeline of this event, recalling the mission with the 501st that had stirred up unresolved feelings and tension between you and the Bad Batch. 
Tech watched you in his cot and a small smile came to him. Evidently it was his touch that had the most impact. With a thoughtful expression, he uncurled his hand, the stud earring still nestled within his palm. Casting a glance at the concealed microcamera, Tech knew he had to handle this situation delicately.
As he pondered his next move, Tech considered the whereabouts of his teammates. Echo and Hunter were engaged in a meeting with a Jedi general, Crosshair and Wrecker were occupied restocking supplies, and you had taken on the task of handling rations. You made it clear you were only handling the rations this time.
Glancing at the time displayed on his datapad, Tech calculated that you would soon be returning. With a sense of anticipation, he tapped the corner of his datapad, preparing himself for your imminent arrival.
He pinched the earring between his thumb and forefinger to place it on your pillow. Unplugging from the dataport, Tech went to stand in the Marauder’s doorway. Leaning against the frame, he appeared engrossed in his datapad, though his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of your impending return.
As he scrolled through the datapad, Tech played out various scenarios in his mind, preparing himself for the interaction to come. He wanted to handle the situation with finesse, ensuring that neither of you felt uncomfortable or embarrassed.
Soon enough, he spotted you approaching, a hovercart laden with rations in tow. Your smile was warm as you greeted him, not at all surprised to find him waiting. You chuckled lightly as you shook your head, teasing him by saying, "Guess I shouldn't be surprised you're already done with your tinkering," you remarked, your tone affectionate.
Tech remained focused on his datapad initially, not looking up as you approached. "I've told you, it's not 'tinkering,'" he reiterated, his tone matter-of-fact. With a casual push off the doorframe, he straightened up. "Besides, there's another matter that has arisen, and I require your assistance with it."
You leaned casually on the handles of the hovercart, feigning nonchalance. "My help? Must be pretty desperate," you teased, eliciting a bored, almost annoyed look from Tech. Chuckling at his reaction, you urged him to lead the way, pushing the cart toward the ship. "Fine, fine. Let's get whatever it is over with."
Following Tech inside, you watched curiously as he handed you his datapad. He retrieved a long cord from beneath his cot and plugged it into the device and the dataport beside his cot. Pointing towards your cot opposite his, he instructed, "You may sit there."
You followed Tech's suggestion and settled into your cot as he maneuvered into his bunk, opening a panel beside the dataport. "I need to calibrate a camera I installed in my bunk.”
The word 'camera' caught you off guard, and you struggled to maintain your composure, your surprise barely contained to a single raised eyebrow. "Since when do you have a camera in your bunk?" you asked, trying to sound casual despite the rush flooding your mind. Inside, you felt a sense of panic at the implications of what might be hidden in the camera's memory. Your heart raced as a live feed of Tech working on the datapad panel appeared on the screen, confirming your suspicions.
"For playback purposes when I make repairs," Tech said with a shrug of a shoulder. "It can prove useful for reference purposes. However, I've never found the need for it," he added with a smirk of triumph.
Internally, a wave of relief hit you. It seemed that Tech had never bothered to review the footage, which eased your earlier concerns. "So, you just have a constant recording going?" you asked, trying to sound bored.
Tech shook his head, scoffing at the suggestion. "That would be unnecessary," he replied. "The camera is motion-activated. Recording only initiates when someone moves in front of it. Even I would find it tedious to scour a constant feed for a single event.”
You nodded, your attention fixed on the screen as you watched Tech's movements. The camera panned smoothly, capturing every adjustment he made. "I'm not sure what I am looking for, but the view looks fine," you said.
“Sarad.” The mention of the Mando’an nickname caught you off guard and put you on high alert.
“Hmm?" you responded, feigning nonchalance as you hummed out a reply. Onscreen, Tech closed the wall panel and settled back into his cot, positioning himself to face the camera directly. His gaze locked onto the lens, and even through the video feed, you felt the weight of his stare, a subtle kind of eye contact.
"I believe I found something of yours, it is on your pillow" Tech said, pointing towards you as he addressed you directly. Your gaze followed his gesture, and sure enough, there it was—a tiny stud earring perched on your pillow. You brightened at the sight, recognizing your lost jewelry.
 Ditching the datapad, you plucked the earring and returned it to its rightful place in your ear. You beamed at Tech, who was now looking directly at you. “Tech, thank you! I thought it was lost for good.” Already forgetting the previous circumstances, you asked, “How in the stars did you find it?”
Tech's gaze softened as he watched you reclaim your earring, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I stumbled upon it recently during my ‘tinkering’ as you say."
Your beaming dimmed with a bit of confusion as he continued, "It was nestled in an unexpected place—in my cot, of all locations." He paused, allowing the implication of his words to sink in.
A short, nervous laugh bubbled out of you. "In your cot? How did it end up there?" you asked in a bad play confusion. You suddenly knew exactly how you came to lose it.
Tech's eyes narrowed as he soaked in your reactions. He was committing this interaction to memory. Never having experienced exchanges like the ones you two shared, and with nothing to relate it to, he found himself struggling to predict the next outcome.
He cleared his throat before speaking. "Actually," he began, his tone betraying amusement, “I do have an idea of how it ended up in my cot." Pausing for a moment to gauge your reaction, he continued, "You see, while reviewing the camera footage for the earring’s orgins, I happened to come across a rather fascinating incident."
"It seems that during a moment of relaxation, you may have inadvertently misplaced your earring," he explained, choosing his words carefully. His eyes dipped for a blink as he practically purred, "It was quite captivating, really.”
Tech noticed the hastening of your breaths and the familiar red blotches blossoming up your neck. The corner of his lips twitched in rhythm with his fingers. 
Despite the temptation, he knew it wasn't the time for such impulses. He resisted the urge to reach out and feel the warm flush of your skin. He found himself wondering how you would react, but he pushed aside those thoughts.
You sat there wide eyed with an anxiety induced smile stuck in place. No words came to mind, all you could imagine was what kind of expression Tech had while he watched you.
“How much did you see?”
“May I ask you something?” He completely ignored your question, too engrossed in dissecting the situation for it to register. You squeaked out a yes and he asked, “What you did in my cot…” He leaned forward, hands on his knees, “Do you do that in the others’ cots?”
He’d asked you something similar in the past. About whether you reacted to his brothers the way you did him. If he knew of the ache between your legs his intense watch was causing, well that would be his answer. 
Your breaths became heavier and your tongue still felt like lead when you said, “You don’t like that idea. Do you?”
Tech considered the concept for a moment. “That is irrelevant to my question.”
You sensed his hesitation, but you needed a definitive answer before proceeding with your plans. "Amuse me," you urged, pushing him gently for a response.
As Tech's gaze momentarily flickered away, a serious expression crossed his features. “I have no say in where you choose to… relax.” After a brief pause to compose himself, he adjusted his goggles and met your gaze again. “But no. Hearing you’ve done so in other cots is not something I would enjoy.”
“Are you angry with me for what I did?”
Tech's response was immediate and straightforward. "No," he replied, his puzzlement evident in his tone.
“May I show you something?” You were on your feet and in front of him before the question was finished.
In response to your abrupt question, Tech found himself slightly taken aback. "I-I suppose so,"Tech watched as you undid your pants, mirroring the actions he had witnessed in the recording. However, this time, instead of proceeding as before, your hands settled beside you.
He stared at the little spot of abdomen peeking out. Keeping his head still, Tech raised his eyes to meet yours, a question evident in his expression.
There was a moment of silent understanding between you, mutual acknowledgment of the question hanging in the air. Tech's analytical mind raced, seeking to decipher the meaning behind your actions, yet he remained composed, awaiting your response with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.
“Take off a glove, Tech.”
He didn’t break eye contact as he lifted his right hand and pulled at each finger until the glove was off. Bracing a hand on the bunk above him, you leaned down to reach for his hand. An inch away, you stopped. Tech was so careful with you. Getting clear consent and understanding before even touching you. You wanted to afford him the same thing.
Your stomach fluttered as you confessed, “It happened only once outside of my own bed.” He swallowed upon hearing that, fueling you to continue. “The thought of you, Tech, makes my body react in a way it doesn’t for others.”
Obliviousness was not a characteristic of Tech’s. Certain social cues were lost on him, but he was the most intelligent man you’d ever met. He could read between the lines and he was. Tech’s hand closed the small gap to lay palm side up in your hand. 
“I require a better understanding of what you mean.” Without speaking you guided his hand to the cusp of your pants, his fingers barely touching the patch of exposed abdomen.
The surprise on his face only encouraged your rising fever. “If you want a better understanding,” You leaned into his touch, “You’ll have to get one for yourself.”
In the thralls of discovery, a ravenous look consumes Tech and that was the expression spiraling over him in that moment.. He put his left hand on your hip, pulling you slightly lower while, at the same time, angling his hand between your pants and your body and right between your legs. His touch took your breath away. 
His middle finger smoothed over your skin and hit the wetness dripping out of you. He pressed another finger over your slick entrance and pulled a soft noise from you.
“This is unexpected.” Tech’s face was vibrantly proud. It was that cocky self confidence that made you weak kneed in the first place. “I rather like it.” He applied more pressure and his fingers began to dip inside of you.
Your knees bent at the touch, your body begging for more. It worked to the point of getting his fingers farther inside. Tech responded by curling the two fingers into you and pulling you forward. The grip you had on the bunk above was the only thing keeping you from collapsing to the ground. When his fingers started to move, that life line nearly snapped.
“I didn’t watch your recording very long.” Tech admitted while his free hand moved to grip your ass. He gently squeezed your ass and said, “This is something I wanted to observe first hand.”
“You wanted this?” Your question came out in a whine, you could barely think of anything other than the fact Tech was fingering you.
Tech buried his fingers deeper, “Oh, most definitely.” At this point, his hand was about the only thing keeping you on your feet. The angle of his palm made it so he was constantly brushing against your clit, making it hard to stay standing. He felt your knees wobble and he tugged your forward again, fingers still working inside of you.
You fell into him, hands on his shoulders and a shin over his thigh. The sounds you were making for him, only for him as he was constantly reminding himself, were working him into a frenzy as well. He wanted more, he needed to know what other faces you would make for him. What sounds he could pull from you as he played with you.
  With each careful movement of his fingers, Tech observed the subtle shifts in your expression, the moments when your eyes fluttered closed or your breath caught in your throat. He adjusted his touch accordingly, seeking to provide you with the perfect balance of pressure and release.
You had long since lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, your gaze drifting away as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through your body. It had been years since you had felt this kind of intimacy. It was with a member of the 501st and it had never felt as intense as this moment with Tech.
Tech studied you far more than you realized. Learning how you worked and what you liked was intoxicating him. This was no different. He had no relevant experience with such intimacies, but he was priding himself on learning your body. You’d never have guessed this was his first time with the way his fingers strung you along.
His middle finger curled into a soft spot on your wall, sending a jolt through you. You leaned farther into him, panting into his ear. “Tech, you can’t keep doing that.”
Tech barely let off the pressure. Instead he rolled his finger into the spot over and over, coaxing you to tighten around him and collapse. You were straddling him at this point and, with his free hand anchoring you in place with a firm grip on your ass, release was rushing towards you. “I’ve barely done anything yet.” The timbre in his voice sent a shudder through you. 
You pulled back and held his face in your hands. “Tech,” his name came out in a whine. “I don’t want the first time you see me like this to be on your fingers.” Your mouth hung open in a soft moan.
Tech’s gloved hand flew to your face to hook a thumb into your mouth. He drew your face closer to his, his voice dropping to a low, almost teasing tone. "Too bad," he murmured, his words laced with playful defiance. 
He gripped you with whole hand, his palm working into your clit while his fingers kept up their pace. The combination made you see stars as heat burst through you. Pleasure shot from your core to every nerve in your body. You arched into him and you rode out your climax on his hand. His hand moved over your mouth, his thumb now wet with your saliva.
You pushed his hand off your mouth, it fell to your back, and you caught his lips in a kiss. It quickly became a hungry dance between you. The pressure of the kiss was almost bruising, but neither of you cared about air at the moment. As you licked and nipped at his lips, Tech quickly followed your rhythm until you pulled his tongue into yours for a gentle suck. He groaned at the sensation and couldn’t stop the thought of what else might find its way into your mouth.
Gradually, Tech slowed his fingers and the kiss faded into soft exchanges. Tech was withdrawing his hand when the kiss finally broke completely and you both were left panting.
Tech’s gloved hand casually cradled the small of your back as he shifted your weight onto his left leg. He brought the fingers, still slick with you, to his mouth to suck on the tips. He smirked at your blatant surprise, gave his hand a wipe on his cot, and set it on your thigh.
“With your permission, I’d like to refer back to this particular recording in the future.”
It took a moment to shake off the haze of pleasure and remember the camera. You shifted your focus to the lens, then leaned in, your voice barely above a whisper. “Only if you touch me like that again.” Satisfied with your playful tease, you attempted to lean back, but Tech's firm grip held your head in place. His lips brushed against your ear.
In a quiet, firm voice he promised. “That was only the beginning.”
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juniperdugong · 13 days ago
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How NOT to Summon a Demon
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Pairing: demon!Sukuna x GN!reader (reader is in college) Genre: Fluff CW: Swearing WC: 872
Day 8 of To Halloween with Love Event
A/N: Hey at least my other two today were drabbles... ANYWAYS! Anyone up for domestic demon tutor Sukua AU tonight!! Hell yeah!
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"I don't know how this happened..." You sat kneeling as you furiously scrambled to skim over pages and pages of text. Texts that you were sure you memorized to a tee but obviously... something went wrong somewhere along the way - Because instead of a silly little imp meant to help you with homework, you had a hulking man triple your size staring down at you.
"Yeah, well I'm here now and you've disturbed my peace." The man gruffs, grabbing at the book in your hand and examining it, "You screwed up."
"I know. Obviously, I know." You're scratching your head trying to think of something - anything - that would make this better. "What do I do? Send you back? How?"
"Nope. Can't be sent back till whatever you made a deal for is done..." Tossing the book aside the monster of a man took residence on your bed, making himself comfortable as you grew more and more uncomfortable with the situation; The bed squeaked and groaned with the sudden unknown weight.
"Oh- I wanted or- The deal I was trying to make was for help with my homework..." You sheepishly fold, now embarrassed as you hear the ridiculous words come out of your mouth - Who the hell tries to summon a demon to take care of something as simple as homework? And why the heck would a spell meant to do that summon this beast of a demon who obviously has more practice in killing than mathematics?
"Homework? Ha!" He picks himself up and grunts like an old man as he sits at the edge of the bed, "That's so stupid. You couldn't have made a deal to- I don't know. Become top of your class or graduate early of something?"
"I didn't have the foresight to make those types of deals..."
"Woah a dumbass like you can use big words like 'foresight'"
"Hey! That's mean." You snap back at him.
"I'm a literal demon... I don't know what you expected, babe." The use of a nickname throws you for a loop and your face gets warmer with the sudden casual talk between you two. You hear a deep chuckle come from the demon seeing your reaction.
He rubs his hands together and black dust begins to accumulate, with a simple snap a pair of glasses fit for himself apparates from nothing. "What are you doing then? Sit in your chair." He gestures towards your desk.
"What?" You do as he says out of fear but with confusion written all over your face.
"What do you mean 'what?', brat." He lurches forward and sits on the floor next to you, large enough that he sits at nearly the same height as you in your desk chair. "What are we doing first? Science, math, or English?"
---
The next few days become oddly comfortable with the presence of a demon. Thankfully, no one was able to see him other than you unless he wanted them to. Did this lead to many instances of him practically stalking you or appearing out of nowhere? Yes... but even these became common occurrences - Ones that you didn't really mind as long as you were getting your grades up.
It's only when the semester comes to a close and you and (who you learned to call) Sukuna are much more friendly than a person oughta be with a demon that you begin to wonder...
"Sukuna?"
"What, brat?" Sukuna mumbles, words slightly muffled as he nuzzles closer to your neck. You're both cuddled snuggly into each other. A light blanket draped over you because Sukuna's warmth was more than enough to keep the winter cold at bay.
"Why aren't you gone?" There's a pregnant pause as he takes in what you just said and you giggle as he suddenly manhandles you to face towards him - A furious look on his face (even more so than usual) that screws up into confusion.
"What? You want me gone?" He's stern and you can detect just a hint of sadness and distress coming from him as his thoughts race.
"No. I mean-" And you do your best to wrap your arms around him and bring him in close... Only able to pull yourself closer to his unmoving form in the process, "You said you'd be sent back once the deal is up. My grades are up and my school work is done, so I'm just wondering-"
Looking up you see the rarest of sights - a slight blush on Sukuna's face as you remember his words from so long ago. "Kuna?"
"What?-" He comes back to his senses, bringing you into a tight hug and smothering you with his chest so you wouldn't see the face of the demon go red from embarrassment. "You're so stupid that you probably wouldn't be able to live without me... so I decided to stay."
"Yof cam do dat?" (You can do that?) Your voice is completely muffled as he overpowers you.
"I can do whatever the hell I want. I'm a fucking demon, babe."
And you're not sure if you're comforted by his words but you're kinda glad that you got this guy instead of some whimpy imp.
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A/N: And just like that I'm caught up lol. I'm obsessed with soft Sukuna, sorry not sorry. My JJk "drabbles" always end up being ficlets and I have no qualms about that.
Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)
JJK Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb
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therookieimagines · 2 months ago
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Not that he cares..or he does..- Tim Bradford x fem!reader 3/?
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Summary: You’ve been living with Tim for a few months now, and after some intense staring contests Tim’s finally ready to admit how he feels, but what happens whenever things take a spicy turn?
Warnings: SMUT AT THE ENNNND, Tim calling you a whore and slut
It had been a good month or two, you were healing great and ready to get back into policing, but with slight changes, you felt like with the feelings that were arising towards Tim after living with him for some time would get in the way of your work, so, you were transferring TOs to Harper until you could become a detective. It wasn’t that you were doing anything inappropriate with each other, you both just, shared a bed, and a room..and a closet..you were basically dating without the dating. Tim had gone back to work about three weeks ago, diving head first right into cases, but not without calling you every hour on the hour, he couldn’t help it, you had been shot, maybe it had healed now but what if something happens? Again? He had to make sure you were safe.
Tim groaned at his desk holding the phone to his ear listening for the third time as he heard your voicemail “this is y/n! Leave a message, unless your Bradford or Nolan, then just text me” he was growing irritated with every passing second. “Harper! I’m leaving to go run a personal errand, I’ll be back in twenty” he said sternly before his desk phone started to ring loudly “hello? Y/n?” He answered quickly, hunched over his desk waiting for your reply “Tim? Why are you calling me like something happened are you okay?” You asked softly, he could hear the sound of dishes clanking faintly in the background “why didn’t you answer? I thought something might’ve happened you know whenever I’m calling from work it’s a-“ you cut him off with a giggle “it’s a check-in, I know, but I was doing dishes and didn’t realize my phone was on the bed, I’m sorry, I’m okay though I swear” you reassured as you finished drying the last plate, trying to stifle your groans in pain as you reached above you to put one of Tim’s thermos’s away “hey hey, what was that? That doesn’t sound okay to me” he asked starting to bite his nails “ya know what no I’m coming home” he decided before you were quick to cut him off “Tim Bradford. Stay on your shift, criminals need you out there to ruin their fun, just like you ruin mine” you teased “I’m cleaning the apartment for us, that way we’re not dealing with any messes tonight” you explained feeling terrible Bradford had to come home and clean up after you the last couple of weeks because of your injury, he never actually minded it though, taking care of you was just like his job as a cop, he knew he was doing good, especially if it meant making sure you were happy and safe. “F-fine but..I’ll be home at 7pm sharp, got it?” You heard his voice say, you could tell he was still uneasy but you knew he’d be quickly distracted with the first call he got.
Tim was truthful on his word, the door unlocked at exactly 7pm, not a second later either, you watched as he immediately dropped his things by the door walking over to you “how’re you? Those noises you made earlier did not sound like stretching you sounded hurt, did you fall or run into something?” He asked worried, placing his hands on your shoulders examining your body “Tim, I’m fine, reaching above my head is still painful but..it’ll be alright, these things heal” you smiled patting his shoulder before sitting down “so, how’d your date go that Lucy set you up on?” You asked curiously, you knew Lucy had her own little scheme going on, you could tell the second she started asking about how you and Tim were handling living with each other. “What?- o-oh I didn’t know..you..knew..” he admitted sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly “she was..nice..definitely not my type though, she wouldn’t stop instagramming her food, like honestly why can’t people just enjoy a meal?” He ranted, you just watched him smiling as he continued on and on as he poured himself a drink “hey why aren’t..you..answering..” Tim trailed off noticing you watching him in awe “why are you watching me, you creep” he teased sitting down in the recliner not far from where you were on the couch.
“Seriously!” He groaned dropping his head “quit staring at me! It’s creepy and weird!” Tim continued setting his drink down walking over eyeing you suspiciously, you couldn’t hide your smile, you knew he wasn’t being serious, but the fact he was trying to be was adorable to you, he was doing his cop tatics on you like he would on a call, his hands firmly holding his regular belt, his glare stern and his eyes slowly clouding to a shade darker. “Ms. L/n, do I need to issue you a ticket for staring an officer of the law down?” He asked squinting his eyes “try it, I’ll take that ticket to court, officer Bradford” you smirked, the giddy smile never leaving your face once though, Tim stayed strong though, fighting every muscle in his body not to smile or laugh. “Unless..you explain yourself on why you’re staring at me?” He offered crossing his arms, all of his known intimidation tactics “you don’t scare me, Bradford!” You laughed leaning back on the couch, only for him to take a step closer “that’s officer Bradford to you” he corrected in a stern tone “oh my gooood! Fine! I was staring because it’s calming to see someone so…brutal and scary become so laid back and relaxed” you explained, Tim scoffed playfully “when have I ever been brutal!?” He asked sitting back down, this time next to you, on the floor “uhm, my first call? They shot at us and whenever you apprehended them I saw you, that body tackle was pretty brutal” you remarked “I did what I was trained in the academy to do!” He defended, you just laughed smiling as he just shook his head at you. “I just mean that..i don’t know” you sighed letting your head fall back “you’re just..comforting to watch” you shrugged looking towards him again, this time he was the one staring, taking in everything that was you.
You both kept taking turns for at least ten minutes before finally Tim broke the silence “alright it’s killing me” he huffed leaning up onto his knee placing a hand on your cheek “over the last year and a half..y/n I’ve loved you more and more everyday” he admitted, you watched him closely nodding your head before he pressed his lips firmly against yours, you weren’t sure if you should kiss him back or pull away, he was still technically your TO. You chose to kiss back though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he slowly made his way from the floor to the couch next to you “I never realized it until the night you made the backup call..I knew you were different from my other rookies but..not like this” he whispered pulling away from your lips, much to his minds dismay. “Don’t worry, Tim..I..I love you too, even if..you’re a rude asshole sometimes..and I wanna hit you..with a baton..-“ “hey! Where did all of this brutality come from!?” He yelped leaning away from you smiling “I’m just saying! I love you despite all the times you get on my nerves” you laughed leaning closer to him attempting to peck his lips, but he just kept leaning farther and farther back until he fell onto his back on the armrest, you kept moving though, eventually hovering over his body, your hair tickling his nose lightly. “Careful, rookie.” He warned, almost like you were going into dangerous territory, you were confused up until you realized just where your hand was, right above his growing erection, resting at the waistline of his jeans. “Shit sorry” you cursed moving it to hold his hand, you were now riddled with insecurities and embarrassment, why’d you put your hand there? What if he didn’t want things this fast? Were you a whore for moving this fast with him?
Tim could see the nervousness in your eyes, he kissed you once again, squeezing your hand gently before placing it back where it was only this time a few inches lower, you could feel a knot immediately form in your stomach as you felt how big his ‘package’ really was, I mean the police slacks were good to show things off but they could only do so much, so this was a lot bigger than expectations. “You’re alright, no need to apologize” he whispered running his hands through your hair pulling your head closer to his as he pressed his lips closer to yours, using his other hand to pull you basically onto his lap, only your hips were placed on his thighs. “Look at me, are you alright with this?..” he asked raising an eyebrow “we don’t have to, you know that, l/n, I’ll never force you into anything” he reassured, you knew every word he said was the truth, anytime a call was too much for you, he’d always make sure you were okay, never forcing you to do anything you were uncomfortable with (evictions were the worst for you growing up bouncing from house to house). You never answered him though, your mind starting to race again “I-i want to..” you whispered but your brain kept going back to the same topic, the moment he sees your scar he won’t be into you as much. Tim could almost read your face like a book, you wanted to but you were conflicted with something, he studied you, trying to figure out the cause without forcing you to speak, that’s whenever he spotted one of your hands fidgeting with your shirt, pulling and twisting, rolling the fabric between your fingers as you struggled to find the words.
You didn’t need to though, Tim effortlessly lifted you carrying you towards your bedroom before gently laying you on the bed, not wanting to hurt you anymore than you had already been hurt in your life. He pulled off your shirt running his eyes up and down your torso before his eyes landed on the distinct scar on your abdomen, he slowly lowered his head resting his chin on your hip bone “this is what’s bothering you?” He asked, at first you thought he was upset, you were probably being silly right? You shouldn’t be this stuck on a stupid scar. “Hey, I’ve got em too, from my time being deployed..my time serving as an officer..in our line of work those are like our little marks of how long we’ve been working as officers” he explained, your eyes were glued to him, watching as he sighed standing up, pulling his shirt and jeans off of his body “I’ve got them, it’s alright” he whispered slowly crawling onto the bed kissing your stomach all the way up to your lips “I’ve always thought you were beautiful..” he whispered against your lips, his words and kisses slowly became more aggressive, his hands running through your hair as you grinded your pussy against his thigh. “Fucking hell” he grunted gripping a fist full of his comforter, he so badly wanted to fuck you into the bed, show you just how badly he’s wanted to fuck you since the night he gave you a ride home from your friends party. You and your friend were sober but you weren’t dressed like it, he was completely shocked at the time, that someone as modest as you during your shifts would dress in such short shorts and such a tight t-shirt, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, perfectly masking it as annoyance, he was very much hiding that fact he wanted to tell you exactly how he felt right then and there, how much he loved you and wanted you.
You took notice to Tim’s face, he was concentrated on something heavy, something that was turning his knuckles white from the sheets, as you grinded your hips yet another time that’s whenever you felt it, he was harder than he had been that whole night. “Fuck me, Bradford.” You said sternly, using a fistful of his hair to pull him down to eye level “I want you, to fuck me however you want, just, with a condom please” you asked/demanded, you could see something in his eyes flicker, almost like he had been conflicted and then made up his mind. He quickly leaned away from you, ripping your sweatpants open down the thigh, giving him perfect access to press his fingers against your clit playing with it roughly watching as your back arched, all because of him. It was fueling Tim with something he never felt before, watching you do that all over his fingers made him feel powerful and more of a man than ever “oh just wait, baby, you think this is good, just wait” he whispered biting his lip smirking, he slowly lowered his body until he was eye level with your pussy, your thighs twitching with anticipation as he blew lightly over your lace thong. “You were these just for fun..or did you have a plan to seduce an officer tonight?” He asked slowly pulling them off, he had to keep them safe, just incase he wanted to see you in them again, you bit your lip anxiously, not wanting to answer his question in fear of answering wrong and not getting the pleasure you so desperately needed.
Tim growled furrowing his eyebrows landing a harsh slap to your inner thigh, resulting in a light squeal out of you in response “answer me whenever I’m speaking to you.” He growled resting your legs on his shoulder using barely any strength to tug you to the end of the bed, his lips barely ghosting over your bare pussy. “N-no I just h-hadn’t gotten around to laundry y-yet” you whimpered, squealing whenever you felt his warm tongue leave a strip across your clit, he wasn’t finished though, using the tip of his tongue to trace figure eights around your clit. Right as you approached your climax, Tim pulled his mouth away, you whined desperately trying to pull his face back down between your legs, but he quickly grabbed your hands pinning them to the side “ah ah.” He tsked, grabbing handcuffs from his side table using them to keep your hands restrained to the side of you to the bed frame “okay how long has that clasp been there?” You asked never really noticing how quickly the bed you’ve been sleeping on for the past months turned into a sex chamber “did it whenever I first moved in, didn’t mention it to you whenever you moved in because I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable” he explained casually as he placed a condom over himself lining his cock up before pushing into you quickly, it only took a few moments before he bottomed out inside of you, you couldn’t help but let out a moan as you felt his tip brush against your cervix.
Tim groaned loudly, you felt so much tighter than he thought, he couldn’t stop his hips from moving though, desperate to chase the one high, fuck the one person he’s been dying to for the last year “fuck just like that, god damnit your pussy feels great” he growled, lifting your legs over his shoulders giving himself a new angle to fuck you at. You couldn’t process everything happening, you didn’t even know Tim could be this sex experienced, you always marked him off as more of a vanilla dude, but here he was, throat around your neck gently as he slammed his cock into you so hard you knew there’d be bruising tomorrow. “Fuck! Tim please! I’m gonna cum” you begged, his grip on your throat tightened as he halted his thrusts “what the hell did you just call me, rookie?” He growled, ghosting his lips over yours “I-I’m sorry, sir” you whimpered, trying to move your hips in any way that would get you some sort of release, but Tim just held your hips down, using your pussy to his own advantage “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, fuck it’s better than I’d hoped it would be, holy shit” he panted, you whimpered loudly, desperately pulling your shirt off, screaming out Tim’s name as he latched his lips around one of your nipples, his teeth nibbling and biting as you squirmed under him.
You could barely think straight anymore, you hadn’t ever made yourself feel this much pleasure, no toy, hand, or man ever had you like this before, and Tim made it look so easy, like it was nothing to have you basically mush in his hands. Tim’s grip on the sheets were tightening, he had abandoned holding your neck long ago, not wanting to cause you any bruising above the waist or seriously hurt you, he could feel himself about to cum but he had to hold on, he needed to know how good it feels for you to squeeze around his cock. He could tell you weren’t going to last long either, your moans and whimpers were growing a lot more high pitched and frequent and you were basically dripping onto the bed you were so wet “come on, show me how much you want it, work for it, rookie” he teased, flipping you both over watching as you desperately rode his cock, your nails scraping down his chest as he bucked his hips up to meet yours pulling away. You gasped as his fingers started attacked your clit again, this time the knot in your stomach was too tight, immediately bursting, Tim moaned loudly throwing his head back as he felt you tighten around him, your pussy throbbing desperate to get every last drop from his cock as he came deep inside of you, the condom busting rather quickly. Both of your hips didn’t stop though, Tim’s just got rougher “god damnit your pussy feels so amazing, fuck” he cursed, you felt as he quickly got hard again inside of you, this time you felt every twitch and thrust, you were highly sensitive now and Tim was hungrier now for your second climax. He showed no mercy as he repeatedly pulled out only to push right back into you bottoming out, flipping you onto your stomach so he could lift your hips into the air, fucking you deeper, you swear you could feel his cock poking the inside of your stomach he was so deep, but he just kept going, wrapping his hand around your neck to pull your bare back against him, his lips ghosting over your ear “cum for me, rookie, wanna see that tight pussy squeeze my cock, like the desperate rookie you are” he spat, it just made you hotter, the way he talked down to you always did something to you, the way he had little regard over your feelings sometimes but then would turn around and care so much about you if anything happened.
“Fuck you like that, slut? Like whenever your commanding officer calls you out for the little desperate slut that you are?” He continued pushing your face back down into the pillows, you moaned loudly trying to push your hips back into his, but he continued to fuck you at his pace, only whenever he felt your body tense did he pull out replacing his cock with his mouth, licking up any cum that dare leaked past his lips, your legs twitched trying to close to get his mouth away from your clit but he just held your legs open, continuing to lick any part of your thighs and pussy clean. “Now, I think I deserve some payment for my amazing services” he panted leaning up glancing to his still hard cock back to you “I just wanted to see how good my girl tasted” he whispered, you whimpered sealing your fate as you dropped to your knees taking his cock into your mouth, you already knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the entire thing, so you took it slow, swallowing around him as he slowly bucked his hips into your mouth. It lasted about two minutes before Tim scoffed “may I show you how it’s done, slut?” He asked, you looked up at him through your lashes, nodding, never taking his cock out of your mouth, he grunted grabbing your hair and his cock leading it down your throat “breathe. Don’t stop breathing just breathe throw it” he coached, his tone no longer rough but more of caring, not wanting to see you choke (but secretly a little). As he nearly bottomed out you gagged around him, causing him to stumble slightly, stabilizing himself with your shoulders, he quickly thrusted into your mouth, sending his cock back down the back of your throat, remembering his words you moaned around him, his pace picking up, and his grip on your hair tightening before you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat and pool in your cheeks as he pulled out, smirking as he slightly ran his tip over your lips leaving a coating of cum for you to lick clean. “Such a good girl” he whispered kneeling down to meet you “let’s get in the shower-“ you cut him off with a tired whine in protest, your legs felt like jelly and you were not about to stand in the shower for 30-45 minutes, no way. “Okay then let’s get in a bath, clean up, and we can watch this new true crime show I found, seems like something you’d be into” he shrugged, you smiled softly, even after calling you a desperate slut, he had already had a movie planned for afterwards “I guess…only if…you leave your shirt off..” you agreed using his hand to help yourself stand, Tim quick to stand to help stabilize you as he walked you to the bathroom “what is up with you and me being shirtless, l/n?” He asked as he helped you sit down next to the tub, allowing him to lean over to turn the water on and plug the drain “I dunno..you’re just..really nice to look at” you smirked giggling, before you knew it you were uncontrollably giggling “now what?” Tim asked, not being able to contain his smile as he watched you lean against the wall for support “I’m sorry! It’s just..we just..had sex!..” you whisper-yelled giggling loudly “seriously!? Are you a child or something!?” He laughed as he helped you into the warm bath, your muscles almost immediately relaxing as he slid in behind you, pulling you back to lean against his chest.
“I love you, y/n..and I know..with our jobs..but we can figure it out..right?” He asked softly, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, you leaned back resting your cheek on his shoulder “we can..and we will..” you whispered, reassuring him before placing a gentle kiss on his jawline and turning back around to face the faucet, letting Tim start to rinse your hair out.
Part 4 lovelies? Or start getting some one shots out there?
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Okay. I'm going to weigh in on some Dead Boy Detectives shipping discourse. (Oh gods I'll probably regret this)
First of all, love the show so so much, please go watch it if you haven't already. Good supernatural mysteries, excellent queer rep, what more could you ask for?
Now. I've stumbled across several DBD posts where peoples reaction to Charles and Crystal flirting have been somewhat unpleasant. A lot of "Ugh, ewww, noooo don't, that's wrong, you're not supposed to do that!"
And look, I'm a Payneland shipper as much as the next person, but it doesn't sit right with me. Now there's a whole can of worms about how Crystal as a character has been received by parts of the fandom and how that's part of a much larger pattern and someone more qualified than me should definitely go into that.
I personally found the romance between Charles and Crystal rather sweet. Sure it's awkward and imperfect, but that, to me, just makes it feel more real. One of the few things in the show that reminds you that these characters are actually supposed to be teenagers. And while it does create tension between Charles and Edwin, I don't feel like it, in any way, overshadows or prevents their very real and intimate relationship.
But it seems to me like some people feel that way, like Crystal is an obstacle to Charles and Edwin getting together. Which, aside from giving me supernatural flashbacks, seems rather narrow minded to a bi and polyam person like myself.
I think it especially bothers me because the fandom has almost unanimously agreed on Charles being bisexual and praised him for it, which is apparently all well and good in the abstract, but as soon as he actually starts performing bisexuality it's "ewww, get away from the girl and back to the Edwardian twink." Particularly jarring since none of the men/cats/birds making advances on Edwin have gotten as much backlash ('ve seen some, but not nearly as much).
Any other bi people feel like they recognise something there?
TLDR: Watch and Rewatch DBD, and next time you're annoyed at Charles and Crystal flirting, maybe try examining exactly why that bothers you.
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watermelongirl01 · 16 days ago
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The Tattoo
Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Criminal Minds x Supernatural
Summary: Your first humankind case reveals a new Hotchner´s side you didn´t know.
Content Warning: Flirty Hotch, Homicide description, Abuse, Rape, Violence, Triggering situations. (Please let me know if I let something out.)
Note: This is my version of the episode "Jones" in the early seasons, I changed a lot of the things but not all of them, It is just how I would've liked the case to be in my opinion, and obviously added a bunch of other things to fit the thread of my story, like Jason Gideon not being there. I hope you like it.
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“Short stuff, are you ready?” 
“Nope”
“Come on, you’re going to be just fine.” Morgan gifted you a reassuring smile.
This was your first time filling in for a member of the group. Normally it wasn’t necessary, but the team was reduced to four. Emily was on mandatory vacation and JJ stayed at home to take care of a sick Henry, so now your presence was requested.
“It’s not what I’m used to.”
“No it’s not, but you are a great agent and will do just fine.” He said gently squeezing your arm. “You will charm them all.” 
“Of course I will, there is no doubt.” You smiled back.
“Let’s go then.” 
You both walked to the briefing room where the rest of the team was waiting, Morgan quickly walked to the empty chair In front of you, slightly pushing you to the side, leaving you with no option but to sit next to Hotch, not that you minded but lately all the members of the team have been acting a little weird.
You looked at Morgan with a questioning look but he completely ignored you and lowered his gaze to read the case files.
“We have a serial killer in New Orleans. Two men’s dead bodies were found over the last month, and a third body was found last night, the same MO, male, throat slashed, they were all found in semi-public places in the French Quarter.” You heard Penelope explain.  “The local police have no leads and no suspects so far, Mike Weller, the head detective is waiting for you.”
Hotch nodded and looked at everyone in the room. “Wheels up in thirty.” He said before disappearing out the door. 
When arriving, Hotch sent you and Reid to the forensic lab to examine the body.
“No hesitation marks.” You said pointing to the terrible wounds.
Spencer nodded. “Cuts are methodical and almost procedural.”
The forensic doctor looked at both of you. “The person who did this definitely had medical training, there’s no other way he could have done this.”
“He?” You glaze up to the doctor.
“No defensive wounds and took out pretty big men.” You frowned. “Although all the toxicology tests showed signs of alcohol.” 
“Any relatives came to claim the body?” Spencer asked.
The doctor nodded. “His wife came with his former colleague.” Both of you looked at him with a confused expression. “He was a retired officer.”
“The lead detective didn’t say anything about that.”
“I’m not surprised, he wasn’t popular at all, he had a reputation for being a dirty cop.” 
“I’ll call Garcia.” You said getting your phone out.
But suddenly Spencer’s phone began to ring and he immediately answered. “Where? Okay, we’ll be there.”  He looked at you as he got off the phone. “Another body was found, call her on the way there.” 
“Same MO.” Morgan informed. “Some people saw him leave the bar down the street.” 
“So, he was drunk just like the other victim.” You said while eyeing the Weller. “Do we know his profession?”
“Does it matter?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
You step aside standing closer to him and shrugging your shoulders. “Humor me, detective.”
Detective Weller side-eyed you but nodded. “He was a well-known lawyer.”
“I see.” You crossed your arms while raising an eyebrow. “You forgot to mention that the fourth victim was a cop who used to work at your police station.”
“I don’t think it is relevant to the case.” Weller huffed.
“Well, we don’t know that yet.” You insisted. “Do we?”
The BAU men were looking at your disagreement with confusion, and suddenly a strong back wearing a gray and elegant suit got in between, blocking your vision. It took only a few seconds to recognize that it belonged to Hotchner.
“We would like to have access to all of the information available, it’s vital to be able to get the unsub’s profile.“ You heard Aaron talking to the detective.
“Sure, Agent Hotchner.” After Weller left the crime scene, Hotch turned around to see you.
“You are riding with me.” Hotch left the place hurriedly making you roll your eyes and toss your keys at Spencer.
You manage to keep up with Hotch’s pace and climb up on the SUV, some minutes passed and neither of you talked, but you got tired of the unbearable silence.
“If you’re going to scold me, just do it now.”
“I’m not.”
“Hotch he was in the wrong, you know that, right?”
“I’m aware.” You shot him a puzzled look.
“Then why get in the middle of my conversation?”
”Because that wasn’t a conversation, he was starting to raise his voice.”
“I can take it, Hotchner.”
“I know you can, doesn’t mean I want you to.” You felt how your facial expression softened at his comment. “Listen, some of these detectives think we are here to make them look bad, they feel threatened.”
You rolled your eyes. “How are their insecurities my fault?”
Hotch chuckled a bit. “They are not, just go easy on them so we can keep the case.”
You, Hotch, and Spencer stayed at the precinct to read all the new information about the victims while Rossi and Morgan left to talk with the new possible witnesses. Currently, you are on your third cup of coffee and your fifth case file.
“I can’t believe we were missing all this information.” You hissed.
“Simmer down.” Hotch murmured.
You looked at the evidence board leaning against the table, focusing on the victim's photos, and frowning when looking closer.
“Oh.”
“You found something new?” Spencer asked.
“Hmm, have you seen that all the victims have tattoos?” Both men got closer to look at the photos. 
“Well actually, in some religions tattoos are forbidden because they think of the body as a temple.” Spencer babbled and immediately stood up from his chair. “Some other religions even think that if you get a tattoo, you’re not allowed in heaven.”
“Really?” A look of confusion crossed your face.
Spencer quickly nodded while pointing up with his finger. “You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor tattoo any marks on you: I am the Lord. Leviticus 19:28.” He added.
“So, we think this is a religious matter?” You asked.
“It could be a coincidence. Let’s ask Garcia if she can find something about it.” Spencer took his phone and left the room, leaving you and Hotch alone, looking at the board side to side.
“Well, that’s concerning. You know, some tattoos are meant to protect you.”
Hotch turned his head towards you. “What do you mean?”
“There’s this kind of tattoos that are protection symbols, usually hunters get them.”
“You have one?” Hotch’s upright posture was visibly shaken.
“I'm no hunter.” You said before walking back to the table, Hotch following you. “But yes, I do have one.”
“I’ve never seen a tattoo on you.” Hotch frowns
“That´s because it’s not in a visible spot.” You giggled while turning your back on Hotch to take out another stack of files.
Hotch’s eyes were found unconsciously roaming over your body. He had seen you in the summer, in short skirts and tiny tops, or with risky cleavages, hell he even had seen you in your pajamas when you shared a hotel room once or twice, but he never noticed any tattoos. That can only mean one last place. 
Hotch knew you were busy getting the files so his eyes ended up going down your back to your ass, He was positive your tattoo was on your hip or ass. 
You could feel Hotch’s eyes going down and up your body, You even turned your back on him longer than needed, so he could linger his sight on you even longer. Anyone could’ve said it was just Hotch’s curiosity but you saw that tiny shade of lust, sparkle in his eyes for a brief moment when you mentioned you having a tattoo.
You turned your body in a slow move and caught him still hypnotized by your body. “Looking for something Hotch?”
“Hips or ass, agent?” He asked with a straight face but his voice showed a hint of playfulness. He was teasing you.
The question made you smirk. “You’re not gonna hear it from me, you’re going to need to find out in another way, Sir.”
But before he could open his mouth to speak, Spencer came back to the room with bad news.
“Another body appeared, no tattoo.”
“Body number five, we can barely keep up with this guy.” you heard in the distance.
“Do we know who he is?” Hotch asked.
“Since it matters so much, His friend says he is a salesman.” Weller said, sending a nasty look at you. “No connection.”
“Detective Weller, I would appreciate it if your answer were directed at me. When I ask a question.” Hotch replied.
Weller huffed with irritation and you thought you heard him grumble something, but you’re not sure if he was agreeing with Hotch or cursing you under his breath. “We have five bodies, Agent Hotchner, and no correlation.”
“Okay, all victims were partying late at night with their friends and killed in the alley with no one noticing, how did the unsub manage to get them alone?” Hotch looked at his team, they were all lost in thoughts.
“A woman.” Detective Weller's mocking laughter echoed in the room.
“Let her finish.” It only took the look on Hotch’s eyes to harden, to force Weller to shut up.
“What is the only temptation for a straight man that’s going to lure him away from his friends and make him leave the bar?” Your expecting eyes were moving around glancing at your team’s faces.
“A woman.” Rossi repeated while nodding his head.
Hotch turned on his heels and looked at the detective. “Gather your men, we are ready to give a profile.” 
“Ready?” Hotch whispered in your ear, making the baby hairs on the back of your neck stand at the sound of his voice.
“What?” You whispered back feeling numb by his closeness.
“Ready to give the profile?” 
“Hotch, I’ve never gi-.” Your voice trails off. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”
“It is.” He assured you pushing you to the side and walking to the room full of cops.
Lost in your thoughts you barely felt two hands holding your arms from behind, giving you a light squeeze. “You got this, Kid.” Rossi left your side and followed Hotch in the other precinct's room.
You sighed and took a deep breath. This was your first time profiling a human case, not covering up supernatural events or rehearsing made-up stories. This felt different, good different.
You walked confidently and stood in the middle of the room surrounded by your team.
“We are looking for a woman between 30 and 35, she’s friendly, she’ll lure with charm but kill with rage.” You began your speech, feeling every pair of eyes looking at you with attention. “We believe she kills men to reclaim her power.” 
“She probably suffers from low self-esteem but covers it well.” You heard Morgan's voice.
“We believe this woman went through a catastrophic event, that’s when the killing started.” Rossi pointed.
“She has medical training, you should consider EMTs, doctors, or veterinarians.” 
“It’s more likely we are dealing with the Aileen Wournos archetype, motivated by paranoia and fear, luring men with sex.” Spencer added.
“She certainly knows the terrain, so be careful out there.” Hotch remarked.
A couple of hours later after the profile, Detective Weller came in a hurry with a piece of paper in an evidence bag.
“Forensics found a letter on the victim's body.” He said handing it over to Hotch. “She’s mocking us.”
“Dear boss, he wanted it. With that sharp tongue and vulgar hand. I thought you’d like to know that another will soon get what he deserves.
Yours truly.”  
“That 's weird.” All eyes searched Spencer’s voice. “Typically offenders write letters to be heard. Jack the Ripper bragged about not being caught yet this Unsub isn’t using correspondence to flaunt her latest kill. Only to explain why she did it.” He explained while moving his hands around.
“It’s possible that she considers herself a vigilante. That the man she’s killing deserves to die.” Rossi blurted.
“Then, every kill she’s acting out is a fantasy of revenge or a real revenge?” Everyone in the room returned to their thoughts wondering at Morgan’s question.
You shifted in your place with uncertainty. “Maybe she is contacting us not because we are on the case, but because she believes we understand.” With fingers tapping against the wood, you began to unravel the tiny hints in the letter. “The Unsub wrote, He wanted it as she couldn’t help herself. What if she’s mirroring the man who raped her?”
��Where are the files stored from your Sex Crimes Division?” Hotch looked at Weller’s direction.
The detective stepped out of the room momentarily and returned with a medium-sized carton box with a few files that barely stuck out of the box. “Here they are.”
“That 's it?” You let out with a surprised tone of voice.
After several hours of trying to match your profile with any file in the box, you were exhausted. You decided to take a quick break and enter the bathroom, You locked yourself inside one of the bathroom booths and sighed while your hands held your head.
The sound of the door being opened ripped you out of your pessimistic thoughts. Suddenly a hand left a piece of paper report at your feet, leaving you uncertain on what to do. You tried to thank the person but, you were answered with fast footsteps leaving the place.
You took the paper and read in a whispered voice, Disturbance at Jones.
~~
“Care to tell us what happened then, detective?” Hotch asked.
Detective Weller shifted in his seat with discomfort. “How did you know about this incident?”
“It was in the box you gave us, Weller.” Morgan said while leaning against the wall, looking directly at Weller.
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe you misplaced it, who cares?” You argued. 
He looked at you with disdain. Aaron couldn’t help himself and stepped closer to you showing protection. “This happened when the head detective before me was in charge, I took some of the declarations but that’s it.”
You smirked with satisfaction Knowing you were right all along. “The detective before you as our third victim?” He nodded.
“What happened there, detective?” 
“One of the boys asked her if she wanted to play pool. Witnesses claim she was up for anything. His friend, not far behind.“ All the eyes were on him. “He claims she knew he was there, She said she claimed for help but not a single person claimed that they heard her.”
You shook your head in disbelief. 
He continued, “That’s why it was registered as a disturbance. She wanted to press charges. But the head detective back then told her it was a waste of time.”
“How is this just a disturbance?” Rossi asked, frowning at Weller.
“As far as I was concerned, no such rape ever took place, and the boy was a colleague’s son, he is a good boy.”
Something in your stomach twisted and anger started to build up.
“We are trying to know her name; she could be our Unsub.” Morgan pointed out. Weller sighed when this realization dawned on him, but he slightly shook his head as he was ashamed of not knowing the answer. 
But you were sure shame wasn’t a feeling men like that could understand.
“You don’t remember her name?“ Morgan asked with incredulity.
“It was nine years ago.” 
“What about the name of the good kid that raped her?” You bickered.
~~
“Mr. Tibideaux, we need you to answer a few questions about a disturbance you were involved with.“ Hotch’s voice resonated inside the four walls of the interrogation room.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Disgust appeared in your face, but you hid it by biting your tongue. You didn’t know why Hotch asked you to be there, but you hated every minute of it.
“At a bar called Jones, It was Mardi Gras.” Hotch reminded him.
“You know, then I must’ve been drinking or something. Cause I don’t remember a thing.”
With your feet tapping the floor, you were counting the seconds to be able to leave the room and be away from the so-called good boy.
“We just need to know the name of your accuser.” Hotch demanded. If he was annoyed there was no way to know.
“Look, I told you. I don’t know what you are talking about”
You roughly massaged your right temple, fuming.
”The statute of limitations is up, we just need a name.” He added calmly.
“Someone accuses me of rape, I’m gonna remember her name.” You taunted.
“Well, what can I tell you, Cher? I guess she didn’t make that good of an impression.“
Your eyes narrowed dismissively.
”Unlike yourself right now.” You retorted.
“You know. I’m guessing if someone did do something to that girl that night then she was probably asking for it. Maybe even liked it.”
You controlled the urge to smash his head against the table and abruptly took the file out of Hotch’s hands, you opened it and began to display all the victim's photos in front of him.
“You know Hotch, maybe we are not too late, she murdered these men and I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before she works her way back to the one she really wants to kill.” You tilted your head to look at him but he was busy looking at the pictures with a horrified look. “Is she making an impression now?
Your words suggested you were talking to Hotch but your sight was set on the other man in the room.
“You don’t want to tell us, fine.” You snickered. “Cause Daddy can’t make this go away, and I have no problem waiting for your dead body to give me a new hint.”  
You leaned closer, you didn’t have to talk anymore, you knew your eyes were saying enough. But you continued.
“In fact, I wouldn’t like anything else, so I’m gonna go ahead and set my alarm for tomorrow morning when I get the call from the police.” You ranted.  “Cause, believe me, I’m going to sleep better knowing there is one less offender out of the streets.”
After hearing the name you needed, you stormed out of the room leaving everyone behind without looking back until you heard a voice calling for you.
“That was out of line, agent.” You abruptly stopped and turned on your heels to look at Weller. 
“The only thing out of line is how pathetic you are at doing your job, Weller.” You turned back at him one more time and kept waking till reaching a quiet corner to make a phone call.
“Work me.” You hear Penelope’s voice on your phone.
“We have a name. Sarah Danlin. I need an address.”
“1141 Sherman Avenue. It looks like she was a med student at Tulane but she dropped out.”
“Let me guess, February nine years ago.”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.” 
~~
You returned to the hotel room by Hotchner’s request, and you knew he was in the right to send you back, you got carried away by your emotions. 
You were a mess. Closing your room door, you let your emotions overpower you once more. Tears were falling down your face. You weren’t sure what you were feeling. No one ever prepared you for this kind of case, you felt powerless, empty, and lost. And finally, rage possessed your emotions.
You tossed glasses and trails of empty dishes, and your luggage and clothes flew around the room until your energy and strength gave up and tiredness reached you.
You are sure the hotel staff let Hotch know, cause he kept checking with you constantly. He let you know when they arrested her and how she told them she killed every man who helped cover up her abuse.
You heard your door being open and looked at Hotchner with a questioning look when you saw him standing there.
“How did you open my door?” 
He showed you his key. “We are sharing.”
You frowned. “Since when?”
“Since now, there has been an unexpected cut in the budget.” You nodded knowing it was a lie and he probably wanted to check on you. But you said nothing.
“Some things fall by themselves, I think there’s a ghost.” You said when you caught him looking at the mess on the floor.
“I think you can manage that.” 
He left his duffel bag on the floor and sat next to you on the bed. 
“Are you okay?” He asked.
That simple question was enough to break your strong façade. It was a question you normally have no problem answering with a lie, and you didn’t know if it was the situation or just because Hotch was the one asking. But it brought you down to tears. 
He took you in his arms and hugged you tight.
“I’m sorry.” 
“It 's okay.” He softly mumbled on your head reassuring you. “You said what you needed to say.”
You quickly shook your head.
“I meant it.” You sniffled. “I was willing to wait.”
“I know.” He said while caressing your back with soothing movements. 
“So, normally you have to deal with these detectives making your job impossible?”
“Yeah, all the time.” He chuckled. 
“God, it’s exhausting.” You laugh a little 
“You don’t?”
“No, they basically beg me to take the case out of their hands.” 
Hotch sighed. “You need to learn new methods for the interrogation.” He searched for your eyes. “I mean, only if you want to keep coming to these cases with us, you want to?”
“Yeah.” You smiled at him.
“You are a profiler now, welcome to the team.”
~~
Back in Quantico, you were getting ready to leave your office when you got a call from an unknown number. You hesitated but finally answered after letting it ring for a couple of seconds.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Dean?” You frowned looking back at the number.
“We need a little bit of help.” Reality sank on you.
“Tell me you are not calling from where I think you are calling.” 
“Agent Henriksen got to us.”
“Damn it, Dean, How the heck did he manage to do that?”
“Bella Talbot.”
“That bitch again?” You sighed. “Where are you?”
“Colorado.”
“I’m on my way.”
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obsessedwrhys · 5 months ago
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Hey so how do you think rise donnie would deal with a magical crush who is very chill with his tech and magic ramblings. He is in the room when April asks magival crush “is he bothering you? He can be a bit insufferable sometimes. He can’t just let things go and just accept magic as is”. And crush is like “oh. I don’t mind it. I mean, everyone thought rainbows were magical. They still are, but now you know how they work. I kind of like watching his big head try and figure this stuff out”?
A LOVE BEYOND LOGIC
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ just lots of fluff and flirting (I went overboard with the flirting), reader does get hurt but it's just minor, used of (Y/N) but only once, I hope this is a good read ☹, reader is fem!!
ᯓ★
It was another normal Tuesday for everybody in the lair, like always, you found yourself sunk into the bean bag your best friend plus boyfriend, Donnie, personally installed in his lab just for you. Well how he manages to become your boyfriend is a different story.
It all happened so fast, you were both blabbered about magic and science and suddenly he's pouring his heart out for you. What's more surprising is that this ain't exactly your home realm. You're pretty lucky enough to have score yourself a bunch of friendly people willing to let you stay at their place, not to mention be fine with your whole magical fiesta.
Anyways, you were concentrating on the game in your phone until you hear Donnie let out a frustrated groan. Curious, you looked to see him struggling with what seemed to be his next hopeful project. It's just not looking too hopeful right now.
"You okay?" You asked and his gaze darts towards you. He waves his hand dismissively.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I must have gotten the formula wrong" He said and at the same time, he walked over to the other table to check on his notes. You put your phone away before getting up to approach him.
"Can I help?" You asked.
You then stood beside him, your eyes examining how his hands are placed at both sides of the notebook as he has his head focused at it in the middle. His brows were slightly furrowed from trying to figure out what went wrong. Even with the stress, you can't help but find the concentration on his face somehow making him appear more attractive.
"No... no... I wouldn't wanna trouble you with this burden..." He muttered almost like a whisper since his mind is already preoccupied with focusing.
"Watching you torture yourself with this is already a burden" You joked and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit.
"You're right, I'll try my best to figure this out sooner" He shoots you a sweet smile before walking off to the table in the center that has his project on top.
"Maybe after this we can go exploring. You said you wanted to visit the museum right? If we're lucky enough, I can shut down the surveillance so we can go in undetected, it'll be like the place is ours" He said, putting on his safety goggles as he continues on his work. You couldn't help but feel all giddy inside just hearing him remember you telling him that a few days ago.
You clear your throat, calming yourself.
"That'd be awesome. I don't know if you know this but I can detect old magic in artifacts. Connecting with them makes me stronger" You grabbed an unfinished rubix cube from his shelf and began to play with it as you made yourself float. Even with your body levitating a few feet above him, he didn't mind but was more focused on the task at hand.
"Huh... is that why you're so eager to go? To make yourself more powerful?" He said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"Not entirely, I did say I wanted to explore it with you" You said and just hearing you say that, he tried to bite back a smile, a sense of pride swelling up in his chest.
"Gaining power and spending time with me? You're awfully greedy. Are all magical beings like this from your realm?" He playfully teased and you couldn't help but let out a humoured scoff.
"Too bad it must just be me" You responded and it made him laugh to himself while shaking his head.
"What else should I be aware of about your powers?" He asks and you hummed as you thought it over.
"Well... my powers get crazy strong when I feel a strong emotion. Whether it be sad or anger. Somehow being overwhelmed can 'cause me to lose control" You said and it automatically caught his interest.
"Lose control?" He repeats while putting on gloves before using the angle grinder on the metal.
"Huh... I can understand why... the heightened emotions you feel can create a swirling vortex of energy that can overwhelm your conscious control, making it easily for you to lose any sense of control over yourself, it's almost inevitable" He asserted like he always does when he's invested with every new discovery about your magical abilities.
"Really? Are you saying that's a bad thing?" You raised an eyebrow as you finally landed beside him, at the same time Donnie stops using the angle grinder and puts it aside. He pulls over his goggles, letting it rest just above his head.
"Not exactly, there are other emotions that can also work... Magic is no different than science. There's always a different formula available to replace the other" He said, twisting some screws onto the machine and once he's done, he turns it on before stepping back to see it on and working.
"And maybe sometimes... different is better" He smiled, satisfied with his success. He then turn to look at you who seemed puzzled, in your hand holds the rubix cube you have yet to finish.
"I'm sort of getting it but what other emotions is there that doesn't involve me turning into a raging monster?"
"There is one... an emotion that makes you feel calm yet overwhelmed at the same time... but you'll have to fall"
"Fall?" You watch as he goes to the other side of the room to grab a handkerchief to wipe his face clean.
"Fall in love... can't be hard right?" He looks at you, his eyes warm like it'll be enough to melt you. The way he stares at you makes it seem as though you're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You blush as you let out an awkward chuckle.
"Love? Are you saying that because half of the movies we watch, the main character happens to win in the last minute against the bad guy because of the power of love?" You joked, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating faster than it would.
"This is purely science. I don't recall any movies using that trope" He says and you couldn't help but tilt your head, your brows raised in disbelief.
"Beauty and the Beast"
"Hey he was cursed by a witch"
"Tangled"
"That was more about cutting her hair"
"Uh Hero? Frozen?!??! Every freaking Christmas movie ever created?!?!!" He stares at you, silent for a second and you can see from his face that he's thinking it over.
".... you had me at Frozen. Ah alright, you're missing the whole point of all of this" He approaches you and you can't help but try to at least avoid the effect he's having on you.
"What I'm trying to prove here is that maybe you can try focusing on that emotion. Maybe it can even save you out of a messy situation one day. Who knows?" He crosses his arms, a confident smirk on his face. You roll your eyes with a smile of your own.
"You and your science talk. I do appreciate it but sometimes it's a wonder you haven't talked my ear off" You joked and it makes him laugh once again.
"Oh please, my voice is not irritating, at least not compared to yours"
"Excuse me??"
Right as you finished talking, April enters. She stops in her tracks as she awkwardly shifts her focus from Donnie's face to yours. Sensing the clear look of annoyance on your face, she decides to step in between in whatever conversation you two are having.
"Hey now, I've been gone for only a few hours and you guys are already trying to tear each other down" She laughs half heartedly. Clearly sensing the shift of emotion in the atmosphere, Donnie shrugs as he chooses to walk back to his station.
"Oh well, and uh (Y/N), you should go with April. It's almost evening and you usually eats at this hour. I'll find you later" He says with his back turned to you. Not really caring much about it, you also shrug before turning the other way.
"I was gonna go eat anyways" You said but deep inside you could feel that flutter of emotion again. Without much complain, you decided to go to the kitchen to April, the rubix cube still in your hand.
You're seated at the chair and toying around with the cube that you failed to acknowledge the concern look on April's face. She hands you your plate of food before taking her seat beside you. It was when you both started eating that you finally notice. But before you can ask, she beats you to it.
"Are you okay? I saw your face back there and it seemed like you guys were arguing. Is Donnie bothering you again? I know how far he can go trying to experiment on you" She said and her words nearly caught you off guard. You're aware of her concern about your safety but you weren't sure she would be THIS concern. Especially directing it towards Donnie.
"Wait no we weren't arguing just now. He just said some stupid comeback at my joke. Besides, what makes you think he'd do that?" You asked and she turns to look at you as if your question was a dumb one.
"Um, hello? He's Donatello. The 'Magic is not a real thing' Donatello... Did you forget how he was trying to have you join his crazy experiments when you first got here??" She said and you couldn't help but laugh a bit from how unreal the situation you're in.
"Okay first of all, he doesn't hate magic. He's just amazed about it you know? It's like giving a baby their first taste of sweet candy"
"You're comparing him to a baby now?"
"It was just a metaphor"
"Fineeee!! But how is he okay with letting you hang around in his lab? Doesn't magic and science not work together?"
"Oof if that was the case then people would think that thunder and lightning was a sign of God's fury from above"
"Okaaay... you have a point but... why do you like hanging around in his lab? It doesn't seem to be your cup of tea" You look at her and you see a teasing grin on her face.
Oh boy.
"His lair is... quiet... it's comforting"
"Ah yes... the sound of him drilling for hours is very relaxing. Not to mention the loud noises of his hammer! Wh-What a paradise!!" She says while ending up laughing at her own sarcasm. You let out a defeafed sigh.
"Okay maybe I happen to enjoy watching him work. It's exciting!! Do you see the way he puts things together?" You said with pride that you failed to notice the smile on your face.
"Uh huh" She looks at you and its clear that she doesn't buy it one bit.
Minutes later after you both are done eating and chatting about your everyday lives, you found your way back into the lab.
As expected, you found Donnie in his chair and seemingly working on his next project. Seeing how busy he looks, you decided to just go back to your place on the bean bag... but the sound of your footsteps caught his attention. His eyes slightly perked up as he swung around in his chair to look at you.
"You're back so quick...?" He said, his tone coming off surprised.
"Yeah... why? Do you need some alone time?" You took a step back and he quickly got to his feet like he's trying to stop you.
"That's not what I meant... uh I need to ask you an offer" He then leaned his back against the table and from the way his eyes is struggling to maintain eye contact with you, you could tell it wasn't anything good.
"Do you mind if you could used your powers to give my machine a boost? I need to make sure if it's resistant from getting fried easily" He looks at you, his gaze making him appear hopeful that you'll be fine with that... and honestly why wouldn't you be?
"Sure, just tell me how much is too much" You walk over to the machine displayed on the center and he mirrors your action. You stand side by side as you gently place your hand on top of the core.
"How about we start with something small and we'll work our way up from there?" He suggests which you nodded in agreement.
Just like that, you activated your powers and at the same time made sure you weren't using too much of it. In relief the machine didn't blow up but was running just fine. Almost at the same time, You and Donnie exchanged thankful smiles when turning to look at one another. With the first stage cleared, you decided to up the heat a bit.
"ZZZzzzz" The machine buzzes a bit from the increased intensity of your powers but surprisingly it's still intact and working right.
"Alright... moment of truth..." You grit your teeth anxiously... then activated the full force of your powers.
⌁KRRRRK⌁
Almost like a flash, you could feel surges of electricity coursing through your vines so due to your instincts you quickly pulled your hand away cause of the pain. And for the machine it was now overloading but somehow still functioning. Before you could even do anything, Donnie is already by your side with a med kit in hand.
"Are you okay? I know you're an enhanced being but still that must have hurt" He places the kit on the table and opened it to take out anything you needed.
"Just a small wound" You said, showing him the tiny burn on your pinky. Instantly he's already treating it with the petroleum jelly.
You don't say anything but choose to watch him tend to your minor injury. From his body language you could tell that he was very focused on not hurting you in the slightest. Soon after he wraps a clean bandage loosely around your pinky, he looks at you with a wave of warmth on his face. How he looks at you so softly is making your heart beat like it did not long ago.
"So... are you still up for our visit to the musuem?" He asks and you chuckle in disbelief.
"Seriously? You're not gonna even explain why you invented this thing in the first place? Not after my effort of helping you out?"
"Oh that? I wanted to surprise you but since you asked, this is gonna be our one way ticket to shutting the surveillance off. Just stick this bad boy into the breaker and the cameras are out" He picks it up and effortlessly puts it into the back of the truck, you follow him not far behind.
"You built all that just to spend one night with me at the musuem?" You tilt your head and he freezes in place, his back facing you as he stands at the back of the van.
"Uh... yeah... why not?" He rubs his neck awkwardly. From that you could tell that you've somehow made him flustered. You laugh and the sound of you laughing made him turn around out of curiosity.
"What are you laughing about?" He said despite the movements of his lips beginning to form a grin.
"Nothing nothing..." You look at him, a smile still present on your face but soon you show him your pinky, the same one he helped bandage it up for you.
"Kiss it to make it better?" You said with your hardest attempt of making puppy dog eyes. He shakes his slightly out of amusement.
"Only because you asked" He takes a few steps forward and carefully holds your arm by the wrist before guiding it towards his lips. He kisses it delicately and while he does so, his eyes are remained locked on yours. The intensity of his gaze made you blush that you couldn't help but look away.
"There... is my baby done whining now?" He said with his hands now intertwined with yours. You roll your eyes as you let him pull you into his embrace.
"Yeah yeah... let's go to the musuem now smarty pants" He chuckles at your response with his arms wrapped securely around you, his fingers tracing gently down your spine.
"Should we watch a movie after we get back?"
"Frozen?"
"Perfect"
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