#and no. Adam is not happy about this situation lol.

[nsfwitchy2]

She’s holding me hostage and licking my shoulder

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Hannibal Lecter Headcanons (General)

''Nothing here is vegetarian." — Hannibal Lecter.

❝ 🍽 — lady l: I think it's amazing that my hcs become more and more extensive lol, but you like it, don't you? Hannibal is my newest fixation and I loved writing for him, due to his personality. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! It's four in the morning here 🤎🤍.

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, cannibalism and murder.

❝🍽pairing: yandere!hannibal lecter x gender neutral!reader.

Hannibal Lecter is decorous and very polite and he really appreciates that, politeness. He values ​​and is easily offended by people who are rude or who do not have the correct manners, especially at the table. In addition to being a perfectionist analyzer.

He believes that the way people behave at the table directly reflects their education and social status. Hannibal is meticulous in choosing ingredients, preparing meals and presenting dishes. The problem is that his food tends to be human flesh, but Hannibal doesn't consider himself a cannibal, since the victims he chooses are seen as pigs to him.

Hannibal is known for his distinct personality and his appreciation for elegance and refined etiquette. His impeccable education, combined with his exquisite taste, creates an intriguing and contradictory image, due to his serial killer side. He stands out not only for his intellectual abilities and his ability to appreciate high culture but also for his meticulous and artistic approach to his darker pursuits.

You must have his politeness and good manners, that's the least he requires, Hannibal doesn't like rude people and although he won't kill you, he would have to teach you to have good manners. He will be happy to do so, however.

When interacting socially, Hannibal is observant and analytical, evaluating people based on their behavior at the table and in everyday situations. His aversion to rude people puts him in a unique position where he feels compelled to correct these "lapses" in etiquette. The way he corrects these mistakes varies from murder to a class, in this case, that class would be just for you.

You would have to be someone who achieves these Hannibal decorums, or comes close at least, for him to become obsessed with you. He likes polite people and will be happy if you are one of them, but if you are not or don't know the correct manners very well, don't worry, he will help you.

Hannibal is a psychiatrist and is very well aware that his thoughts of you are not ''normal'' or healthy, but he doesn't care. He knows it's morally wrong to do what he does and does it anyway, so what are some dark thoughts about you? But these thoughts quickly become actions he committed in your name.

He will take notes about you and create your psychiatric profile and if there is something ''wrong'', he will offer therapy for you, that is if you were not already his patient. Always very observant and attentive, he will be keeping all the necessary information about you, so that he can use it to catch you later.

If you have problems with your family or friends, Hannibal will take care of it. He doesn't like the idea of ​​someone wanting to hurt you, whether emotionally or physically, and most likely he will kill them one by one and serve them to you. Of course, without your knowledge. He knows you're not ready to know that yet.

Hannibal will be very picky about your food, just as he is about his. If you eat poorly or incorrectly, he will correct it. He enjoys cooking for you and will be adamant about doing so, serving refined recipes and elaborate dishes using fresh ingredients. Hannibal is a bit too controlling.

He is not possessive, but rather obsessive. Hannibal doesn't like it when you get too close to other people, but he will be more uncomfortable if it's someone he has apathy or something against. But he will sort it out. He feels jealous, but he deals with it in his own way, releasing that feeling on other things... Or people.

Hannibal is quite protective of you and will be adamant about keeping you safe. He may try to convince you to live with him or will make regular visits to your home, work or where you study. He will always be around when he gets the chance, just to look out for you.

He will try not to completely succumb to his desires, as Hannibal doesn't like being controlled, and allowing you to have so much power over him makes him more than uncomfortable. At least until he is sure that you will let yourself be completely dominated by him, only then will he feel more comfortable in making his feelings for you clear.

Hannibal Lecter is very intelligent and knows very well how to get rid of evidence that could incriminate him. Besides being a psychopath who doesn't feel remorse or empathy for others, he becomes softer when he's with you. Although his feelings aren't clear or fully understood, he knows he cares about you, enough that he wants you to be his. And you'll be his.

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 3: X marks the spot

genre: finally some fluff! still some angst, but some fluff too!

word count: 5804

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you need spencer back home. so spencer comes back home. simple as that.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: you folks are amazing! thank you so much for the support and I know this chapter is a bit duller (aka famous filler chapter) but y/n needs a break from pain and suffering all the time lol <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments!

“She knows who I am.” 

That is the sentence that sets off Plan B. 

Spencer’s instructions are clear: call Penelope and go to the BAU. Office Kaper is to stay with you at all times until you enter the FBI and even then, he will personally deliver you to her caring hands, and for once, you don’t argue. In what has been a very dark past few days, you think that Penelope’s bright colours might do you well. “I have to close the shop,” You tell him on the phone, already changing from your sleeping shorts into some jeans, but keeping his hoodie. Right now, you’re not focused on appearances; you’re focused on getting the hell out of there. 

“That’s fine, but keep Officer Kaper with you. Was the envelope delivered to my place?”

“No,” You breathe out, backpack on and ready to go. Nodding to man that has become your loyal companion, the two of you walk out of the building like any civilian couple. It’s unsettling, watching a man that is not Spencer wear his clothes, but he had to blend in so you two didn’t stand out. 

“And he’s wearing my clothes?” 

You turn to look at Officer Kaper and you snort despite the situation. “As best as he can, though he is considerably shorter than you, Spence.”

“You’re calling me Spence,” He says, and even his voice sounds a bit more at ease. Somehow, in the midst of this craziness, you two find time to ease back into what once was and you manage a small smile despite the anxiety rushing through you. “I missed that.”

“I miss you,” Is what you say back, and you blame it on the adrenaline of being outside, so open and vulnerable to prying eyes. “I… I feel safer when you’re here.”

“I know,” You swear you hear something skin to a smile on his voice. “I’m on my way back.” 

“Yeah, in like three days,” Talking on the phone and closing your shop is no easy feat. You’re no genius and having to split your focus onto two different tasks is quite hard, but you manage. You don’t want to let him go yet, scared that one you can’t hear his voice, he’ll be as good as gone. 

“No, I’m on the jet right now, I should be landing in an hour.”

You shouldn’t feel this happy about having Spencer come back this soon and probably in the middle of an active case, but when a psychotic killer starts sending you handwritten letters, you feel entitled to being a little selfish, even if guilt and anxiety are mixed it like the perfect emotional cocktail. “You didn’t have to,” You say, biting your nails when you finally grab everything you need and lock the door behind you. “Spence, I– thank you.” 

“You need me home,” Is all he says before announcing he has to go.

The silence doesn’t make things easier. Now that you don’t have to split your mind in two to multitask, you can fixated on the fact that this is serious. This is quite serious– Cat Adams has just confirmed she knows you. She has also, however, confirmed she does not know where you are, and just like you told yourself before, you have to believe that there is something better than this out there. There is a moment in time, reserved and crafted by the sisters of fate, in which Cat Adams gets bored with you. You are no longer a struggling rat under the weight of her paws, and she is no longer entranced by how you try to wriggle out of maniacal grasp. In another moment, another sliver of an alternate reality, Cat never even finds out who you are. You like that reality a bit better, because then you also don’t know who she is, and the knowledge of her presence and her impact on Spencer’s life is as weightless as a feather. 

While the city passes by you, the taxi ride to the FBI not as quick as you’d like with the early morning traffic, you allow yourself one more scenario. One more reality. 

In this one, you live in an apartment with muted green walls. Your furniture is that fancy, dark shade of oak and you don’t have to keep your books on the store; instead, you have space to add them to your decoration. You have shelves and shelves of books lining your walls and you think you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than that place. The windows, large and usually covered by cream blinds, are open to allow some sunshine inside. In this reality, you’ve told Spencer all about the benefits of sunlight to your books– none of them true, of course, but he still pretends to believe you, and he still opens the windows before leaving for work. This time around, you dream big– in this alternate life, Spencer never even met Cat Adams. He never even applied to the FBI, in this odd, hallmark version of your story. It doesn’t really matter what he does, but all that matters is that you get to be with him. You get to wake up next to him, to talk to him, to call him… hell, you even get to kiss him! 

This reality, as utopian as it seems, it’s fragile, though. Unrealistic. Spencer loves his job, you know that now. A world where you keep him from it can’t truly be a perfect world, not when he’d be so, so unhappy without his team standing next to him. “Ma’am,” Officer Kaper calls. “We’re here.” 

“Oh!” Grabbing your backpack, you follow him inside, feeling a bit awkward at the way people started at your with puzzled looks on their faces. “Wait! Before you leave, this is for you! You mentioned your daughter likes stories and that she’s about five or so, so these should be fun!” Children’s book is one of your secret passions, and you’re happy to see him smiling as he looks through the titles. 

“You really didn’t have to, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I really wanted to, though,” You smile. You need some light in your life as you walk those beige hallways. “Let me know if she wants more– her dad is a hero, so we have a special deal at the store for you.” 

“I’ll tell little Jane that a very nice lady from work gave her new books then,” He says, nodding as Penelope rushes to your side. “Call me if you need anything else, Miss Y/L/N, I’m happy to help. If it makes you feel better, you’ve been dealing with this exceptionally well. It can’t be easy.”

The validation has you pursing your lips, trying to hold back the need to hug him. In no way, shape, or form are you two close– to be honest, this is the most you’ve spoken with Officer Kaper during the forty-eight hours you spent together; and yet, his opinion seems to mean something to you. Your hands hide behind your back and you exhale sharply, nodding at him, eyes glassing over with emotion. “Thank you,” You whisper, head whipping at the familiar sound of heels waddling down the hall. “I’ll uh, I’ll go… but thank you. For everything.” 

He just nods, leaving with a wave and a smile. 

“Either you joined the FBI since we last saw each other or this sweatshirt belongs to a certain genius man,” Penelope says, looking at you with the ghost of a smile. If you didn’t know any better, 

“What? Oh. Yeah, I borrowed it from Spence,” You mumble, hands nervously fidgeting with your backpack. There isn’t much of anything inside, and you think you got flustered when you had Spencer on the phone telling you to get ready to go. All you remember is packing your toothbrush, a couple of books, and some underwear. “Oh, sweet girl,” Penelope sighs, her arm light on your shoulders, guiding you through those horrid halls. You think you hate the FBI headquarters more than you hate Cat Adams, and that is saying something. “Everything will be okay. Boy genius is on it, and he’ll figure this out in no time.”

“Seven days is quite a lot of time,” It’s not fair, how your words make her frown, but you have no one else. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can control them because this is what you’ve been dying to do since you first left that goddamned office, seven fucking days ago. And that is your regret– not talking to Spencer when you had the chance, not letting him talk to you, not… not letting him be therefor you. “God, seven days is a lot– it’s a whole week! I don’t know what you believe in, but if you’re Catholic, God created the Earth in seven days and– well, six days and Sunday he rested, but honestly, semantics. And it’s a whole week, one-fourth of a month. Seven days, and– and–“

“I am not judging you, because I am the biggest yapper of this team,” Penelope cuts right in, hand up in the air between you two. “But you need to breathe. I know seven days is a lot. And I hate that you’re in a position that you feel like you need to count the days. But there are no better people to have on your corner than this team. I promise you, Y/N, and– look!” She shakes her phone in front of your face. “Lover boy just landed! He’ll be here soon, so for now, please sit down and drink some tea?”

The door in the end of many, many hallways later is her office. You don’t really understand the juxtaposition of Penelope Garcia, and that’s okay– you might not understand her, but at least, with her, it feels like what you see is what you get. She wears her authenticity on her sleeve and you actually feel at ease around her because of it. There is not an ounce of ambiguity, not a shred of secrecy coming from her. She looks at you– really looks at you– and in her eyes you know how she feels. Penelope, unlike the rest of the team, is not a trained profiler, and even though you are quite limited in your knowledge of what exactly a profiler like Morgan and JJ does, the internet provided you with enough general background that you know just how… proficient… they are in hiding their own selves from the world. Apparently it’s a part of the job, but at one point, you have to wonder just how intrinsic is the job and their overall selves, and if when Spencer comes back home, does he leaves the job behind or is he always on the clock?

“Here, it chamomile,” The mug is bright pink and purple, and despite the room being dark and cold, you see how she has made it her own. The figurines and stickers on the screens around you make you smile weakly, sipping on the tea while sitting down next to her. Her screens are locked, and you are thankful for that– it makes you feel like at least someone is trying to separate you and the world you never wanted to know existed. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug a little, finger running around the rim of the cup. “I… I’m scared. And this feels really stupid, you know? It’s not even about me, but I’m the one kicking a fuss about everything,” Shaking your head, you let out a big exhale, like you have been holding it in for the longest time. “All because of a silly crush, oh my god…” 

“Wait… Wha– What…?” 

“I know,” You laugh at yourself, that type of chuckle that is so dry and void that even you worry. Underneath it all, underneath all the anger and the confusion and the disbelief, you think you just feel… dumb. You feel stupid. Like you’ve played yourself, and poor Spencer doesn’t even know. “How stupid am I? Getting a serial killer on my back, all because I liked a boy? And it’s not even like he likes me back, so this is all just… so fucked up. I wish I could go visit her and tell her that I don’t have Spencer, not like how she thinks I do.” 

“You like Reid?” Her smile is so big that her voice comes out all weird and squeaky. “You actually have a crush on little boy genius?”

“I–“ The hesitation in your voice is obvious. “I did. Spence is just so kind. And gentle, and loving, and he has this huge heart, you know? He used to bring me coffee every day he visited, and he would tell me all these really cool facts about the most random things, and I swear, I loved listening to him talk.” Without even realising, you’re smiling, wide and true, for what it felt like the first time in forever. You bring your legs up on the chair, hugging your knees close just to feel that sense of security it brings you, grounding you in the moment. The memories of your time with him, your favourite customer, are precious to you; and much like old time treasure, you hide it in the depths of your mind, away and untouched by prying hands of people around you. 

Except, Cat Adams found your map. 

And X marks the spot. 

It’s just a matter of time until she finds the golden chest and picks at the lock. 

Slowly, your smile slips away. “But now… now things changed, you know?” You gulp, not having the capacity to face the pitiful look she gives you without crying. And you’re tired of crying. 

“You didn’t change. Reid didn’t change, he’s still the same kind and gentle and loving man…!” You’re almost swayed by the desperation behind her voice. Penelope is a great friend and you can’t believe you were once jealous of her, but even then, you grimace. It’s not like you don’t want to let yourself be guided by these feelings– you want to let the butterflies loose, you want to allow yourself the giddiness of being with him, you want to have this quintessential girlhood experience, but the threat looming over your head pushes you down and away. You’re scared and you have all the reason to be. 

“Haven’t I?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. “Anyways, at the risk of sounding like a middle schooler, it’s not like he likes me either.”

“Y/N, he– he’s different,” Penelope whispers, reaching for your hand. “He’s afraid of germs and rambles a lot and he’s been hurt before, but please, if you just give him a shot, I think you could be really good for him.” 

“How would you know?” You’re not trying to be rude, you even smile a little, but the question stood– how would she know? You two had very limited interactions. 

“Because he talks a lot about you, and… well,” She confesses, chuckling like she had just done something naughty. When she points at the screens though, you gasp. “I know more about you thank you think.”

That makes your blood run cold. “You– what– what did you find out?” 

“Not as much as I could’ve!” She quickly promises, turning to the screen and quickly pulling up a file. The first thing you see is your driver’s license, and you wince at the picture. “This is all I managed to get before Reid put a ban on me!”

“He put a ban on you looking me up?” 

“Yes, he said he didn’t want to cheat and that he wanted to wait for you to tell him whatever you wanted to tell him,” Her words come out so fast you barely understand them, but it still tugs at your heart. “He said you didn’t know who he was because you didn’t know he worked for the FBI, and I tried telling him that’s not all he is! I did, but Reid is a stubborn, stubborn genius and wouldn’t listen to me! But he is, Y/N, he is much more than this job and–“

“I know that,” You whisper, eyes running through the documents on the screen. Degrees, past addresses, old jobs, family… and past relationships. Your body tenses up at the small list of names, one in particular making you gulp, glancing quickly at Penelope. “This is all, right? You… you didn’t dig more, right?” 

“Yes, this is all! I promise! To be very honest, I could find anything I wanted, but as I mentioned, I’ve been banished and threatened with a long, long lecture on privacy laws.” 

Her words echo in your mind for a moment, eyes unmoving from the bright screens. “Anything?” 

Penelope looks at your with hesitation. “Anything that has been online, yeah. Why?”

Sitting back down, you take a deep breath and nod. “Show me Cat Adams.”

“Oh… Oh, Y/N, no, no no no, I can’t–“

“Yes, you can! You just said you can find anything and, honestly how hard would it be for me to pick up my phone and Google her? If the FBI made the arrest, I’m sure media has picked it up!” Before you can even reach for the device, Penelope is grabbing it, hiding it behind her. “Penelope, please! This woman wants to kill me, I deserve to know what she looks like!”

Your voice is hushed, the undertone of desperation seeping through every word. “What if she gets out?” 

“Y/N, she has a life sentence, she’ll never get out.”

“You don’t know that!” This is what scares Penelope, the way you screech in panic, hands flying to the neck of the hoodie and tugging it away from you like you need it to breathe. “You don’t know that and I need to know what she looks like! Please, Penelope, I’m begging you!”

The tension in the room is palpable, but you know you got through her when she sighed. “I’m doing this for your protection,” It’s more like she’s talking to herself, so all you do is nod quietly, getting up and walking to the back of her chair. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes,” You are holding your breath while you squeeze the back of her chair, trying to keep yourself upright for a moment that could easily throw off your balance. 

In all honesty, you are not sure what you’re expecting. The little you know about black widow killers comes from a fictional world of made up characters, a place where the fantastical magic of made up stories meets the trauma ridden lives of turbulent characters. In them, these killers are beautiful. In fact, their beauty is their weapon, right before their grace and intelligence. It’s almost sick, how you remember liking those stories so much you once called it ‘a form of female empowerment’, and just thinking about it has your stomach tied in a bunch of knots, each one pulling and tugging at you in a rhythm that is too chaotic to not have you hunched over, panting next to Penelope like the photo she pulls up on her computer has just punched you in the gut. 

Because despite all your silent prayers, Cat Adams, in her orange jumpsuit and messy prison hair, is gorgeous. It’s something about her eyes, so cold and distant, yet holding an invitation that even you might not be able to resist. Is this how she draws men in? Is this how she drew Spencer? “I–“

“Garcia, what are you doing?!” 

Both of your turn around at the same time, both of you shocked at the sight of Spencer, in all his sweater vest glory and red face anger, marching towards you both. “Take it down.” 

You have never heard him sound so cold. “Spence, I asked her to pull it up. I was curious.”

“She should’ve known better, she’s an FBI agent!” Now he is screaming, and you can’t help but feel overcome with a familiar type of shame. Part of you, a specific part you left back in New York, expects him to to keep screaming. It’s the part of you that unconsciously pushes the tea mug away. It’s the part of you that looks at the door and feels relieved to see it unlocked. It’s the part of you you’ve been hiding from him and everyone else you met since you’ve moved. 

It’s the part of you Spencer just noticed. 

“I’m sorry,” He says, squinting his eyes at your so quickly it’s almost imperceptible. Almost. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed, I’m just–“

“On edge,” You whisper, nodding in agreement. “We all are, Spence. Don’t scream at her, please.”

“I know, I know, I’m really sorry,” This is more like him– shy eyes casted down between glances here and there. “I just don’t want you wasting your time on someone like her. She doesn’t deserve it.” 

No one says anything for a while. Until you notice it. 

“Spence,” You mumble, smiling a little in an attempt to ease the high emotions in the room. “You cut your hair.” It’s shorter now. His shaggy curls still peek out, but it looks more… grown, even if it enhances his boyish charm. 

“I did,” He mumbles, blushing a little. For a second, he looks at Penelope, like he’s asking her what to say and what to do. “It was getting too long.”

“It looks really good.” 

“Thank you, Y/N,” God, you love when his voice gets low and airy like that. Garcia is looking between you two with a certain kind of spark in her eyes and it makes you shift on your feet. “Uh, shall we go home?” 

“You’re going back to your apartment?”

“Yeah, Officer Kaper said that the letter came with the batch of mail they got from Y/N’s apartment, so it’s safe to assume she has no knowledge of her current whereabouts,” Spencer picks up your backpack without even asking, smiling at you innocently. “I reviewed the security footage you sent of my apartment entrance and there is no suspicious activity happening during the days I was gone. And, well, you know, I’m here now. She’s safe.” 

No one will ever understand the amount of relief you feel in that exact moment. “Thank you for coming back.”

“You need me home,” Is all he says before guiding you away. When you turn to say bye to Penelope, she is smirking, giving you two thumbs up and a giggle. In the midst of all this mess, you actually feel happy to have someone allowing you to enjoy a moment of silliness. “Are you okay? Do you feel a bit better?”

“Now that you’re back, yeah,” You sigh, sticking close to him as you pass by a group of agents. “Officer Kaper is really sweet, but he’s not you, he’s not–“

“Familiar,” Spencer says, but you shake your head. 

“He’s not my friend.” 

“And I am?” The hope in his eyes crushes your heart. You never meant to make him feel like you had left him behind, but you know you have pushed him away when he tried to stand by you. 

No more. 

“You are, Spence,” You breathe out, hand gently falling on his arm and squeezing it adoringly. “You’re my favourite customer and I guess now you’re my living room-mate. But you should really sleep in your bed tonight, okay?” The joke is just an attempt to make him smile, and you’re happy to see it works.

“Will you sleep next to me?” 

His question is not that unexpected, really, but it still makes you freeze in place. “Uh… What… What do you mean?” 

“Sleep next to me,” His bluntness doesn’t help with the way your cheeks fire up. “I know you’re scared, so if you’re next to me, I’ll be watching over you at all times. I’m a light sleeper, so even if something happens, I’ll wake up. We can put pillows between us, if the thought of me that close to you makes you uncomfortable and–“

“It doesn’t,” You say before you can give up on it. “I just… I know you’re a germaphobe and I don’t know how many germs can be shared when you sleep next to someone and I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Actually, when you sleep next to someone, there is an exchange of bacteria and skin microbes when we turn and move around, but your brain compensates by releasing the ‘happy’ hormones because you’re sleeping next to someone you care about, so I wouldn’t mind the former much considering we would wake up pretty content.” 

Someone you care about. You hold your tongue back from asking him if he cares about you– at this point, you should know he does. You shouldn’t need the reassurance, as nice as it would feel to have it, but you really, really want it. In a time where everything is uncertain, you pray so that Spencer can be your constant. “Okay,” You nod, hand slowly slipping down his arm, brushing yours fingers through his, before letting it go altogether. Looking down to the ground, embarrassed with your own courage, you follow him out of the building. “The subway is that way.”

“We’re getting a taxi,” He mumbles, signalling one down as he spoke. “I don’t think public spaces with that much visibility are a good idea for now. I don’t want you paranoid, Y/N, but I need you to be careful, okay? Subways, buses, all of these get crowded and they have a large amount of surveillance. We still can’t figure out how Cat found out where you live or who is her connection that got your name through the UPS delivery, but we’re not stopping until we do, I promise you that. For now, we just ask that you be careful around people.”

“I work with people. I have to talk to them to sell them stuff… I can’t lose my store, it’s all I have!” The two of you turn to face each other on the back of the car. He is shaking his head before you can even continue, and when you feel it, the warmth of his hands covering yours, so much bigger and steadier to the point that is like he’s holding your fists in his palms, you hold your breath. 

“You won’t,” He whispers, shaking his head so gently that wisps of hair fall over his forehead and you have to fight the urge to push it back. “Y/N, you won’t. We’ll figure something out, okay?”

“Okay,” The trust you have in Spencer is enough to have you nodding along. Until the car stops in front of his apartment, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and you make no effort in letting go of his. 

It’s only when it’s time to pay for the ride that you pull away, faster than him in getting the money to the driver. “Hey!” 

“Be faster next time, boy genius,” You say, smiling tiredly while walking next to him through the hallways of his building until you reach Apartment 23. Using your key in front of him, the one he gave you when he went away, feels weird and oddly intimate. “Do you want this back?”

“Keep it,” Spencer says, giving you his trademark tight-lipped smile. The way his shoulders sag a little as soon as he is inside the familiar apartment has you frowning. He is exhausted, tired from flying and rushing through the city, but he still made the effort to come get you at the BAU. “What do you want for dinner? We can get some pizza.” 

“I have leftovers in the fridge,” You mumble, suddenly too out of place in the apartment you know at the palm of your hand. Standing in the entrance, you just look at him, watching him walk around the apartment so carelessly and you wonder if Spencer knows just how meaningful it is for you to have him back home. “I bought groceries, don’t worry, I didn’t use any of your food or anything like that.”

“I wasn’t worried, but now I am. I told you to be comfortable Y/N.” 

“I am…” You mumble, moving to sit down on the armchair. 

Under his watchful gaze, you’re not sure how much Spencer can get out of your behaviour right now. It’s a bit sad that you’re even thinking about this so consciously, observing him as he observes you right back. You know you will never win a battle of wits against the genius across the room, but no ones knows you better than yourself and that is currently your only leverage in this entire situation. But… why do you even need leverage? What is this war you have started with yourself and pulled poor Spencer in without even letting him know? The blanket you adore so much is right by your feet and you pull it up to cover your whole body, all the way up to your face. At this point, you don’t want him reading you because you’re afraid of what he will find. Specially because you don’t know what he will find. 

“What are you doing, Y/N?” When he sits on the corner of the chair, your body dips to the side, rolling closer to him. “Are you hiding?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And why are you hiding?” 

“Because you’re an avid reader,” Even you want to cringe at your own words. “And I’m not really sure what story I’m telling, right now.” 

His laughter takes you by surprise– this has to be the loudest you’ve heard Spencer be. “Y/N, what are you talking about? I’m not going to read you!”

“Spencer, you can’t help it! It’s what you do– I see the way you look at me, okay? I know what you’re doing, and I have to say I am not a fan!”

With one tug on the blanket, your face is exposed again with hair all over it. But then you see his smile, and it looks so honest and happy, like a version of him you thought you had left behind days ago. “You think I’m reading you?”

“Are you not?” You ask, sitting up to try and look at him with a serious expression. 

“No, Y/N, I’m not looking at you because I’m reading you.” 

There are moments in your life, unique and specific in their own credits, that you are sure you will never forget. The day you decided to leave New York is one of them– you bought tickets last minute and left with only a rucksack you found in the back of your closet. On the way to the airport, you called your parents, waking them up at three in the morning to tell them they were going to need to ship your stuff to a PO box address. Y/N, where are you going?, your mom cried out. What is going on? To which all you said was I’ll tell you when I can, before hanging up and throwing your SIM card out of the window. 

Opening your store was high in the list too. Not the day that you conceptualised it or rented the place– the day you truly opened it. The day your first customer, your favourite customer, walked in, that’s the day you truly opened the place. The day he bought a book and promised to come back again. 

Of course there are other dates, too; simpler dates. Birthdays, christmases, random family dinners. The small things that build-up to be big memories. But then there are the big things that are even bigger memories, and you’re intimidated, with the size of it all. It’s too big, too tall, and when you fall, it might just be high enough to break all your bones, but not kill you completely. No… that would be too merciful. 

This– Cat Adams, Spencer, the box– this is not just big. 

This is huge. 

In comparison, tonight is not all that big. In fact, his living room feels quite small now that both of you are back inside. The green walls descend and it’s just you and him, squeezed close in an arm chair you both love, surrounded by books you both love, and you still can’t help but feel afraid. This is as small as it gets, as monotonous as it gets, and yet, this is the most scared you’ve ever felt, because no matter what you do, it’s like you can’t stop climbing– you go higher, higher, higher. His words, replaying in your mind, keep pushing you up, without any regard of how you’ll ever come down. 

Truthfully, you don’t want to come down, even if he brings you down gently. 

“Then… why do you stare at me, Spence?”

He doesn’t answer you, shaking his head slightly before looking away and clearing his throat. Uncomfortableness doesn’t look good on him, and that is saying something, coming from the one person who thinks everything looks good on him. “I uh, I’ll heat up some of those leftovers. Shall I get you some, too?” 

Spencer might the profiler, but you are still able to read the blooming colour in his cheeks. “Yeah,” You say softly, I would love some, Spence.”

Dinner with him is peaceful. You’re learning how to live this new life with a plus one. You learn his habits and his quirks– you learn that he likes to put ketchup on his pizza and that he drowns his coffee in sugar. That despite his immense IQ, he still can’t quite cook for himself– or prefers not doing so. That he made sure his cleaning lady came during the times he was away to avoid small talk and human contact. You learn, through a lot of trials and a lot of success, that you are his one exception. 

For you, Spencer is malleable, and he has no qualms in moulding himself to your needs, except… except you don’t want him to do that. You don’t want him to be someone he’s not and you don’t want the Spencer you know and adore to be someone curated just for you. 

“I’ll go take a shower and change into some comfortable clothes,” He says after he finishes eating. “Thank you for the food.” 

“No problem.” 

“And Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You can keep that hoodie. You look good in it.” 

Just like that, you chuckle, shaking your head when he disappears behind the bedroom door. If Cat Adams has the map to your past memories, Spencer Reid has the map to your future ones. 

X marks the spot. 

And for him there is no lock to pick– the door is wide open. 

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

Taglist:

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[moonywiitch]

Pick a pile 🤍

💕 By analysing the pictures only

( pls let me know if it resonated as this is my first time 💗) ( please take this with a grain of salt ) 💋 xoxo

Pile 1 ❤️-

They both are looking at the sunset 🌇It appears like it's the ending of something ( not the relationship necessarily) but something is ending and also they are looking relaxed also I think there is some foot fetish there 👀 like the masculine wants to touch her feet 🐾, I'm getting really soft love vibes 💘 and it feels like the masculine is a secretive person or is just not good at showing emotions and the feminine have this airy energy to her , also I'm seeing a heart in the cloudes with orange 🧡 and yellow 💛 shades it feels like a love which beautiful , which makes you feel alive, it is strong like really strong with a lot of comfort in it like you have gone through a lot of things together!

Pile 2 -

They both look so much at comfort with each other , the guy have a playful childlike energy and the girl is also like that but more mature and they have a playful energy but they are mature in love ❤️, the guy is cunning though , also I feel like they are not very rich but happy , I'm getting gloomy vibes too lol , like you want to cherish each other forever ♾️, I'm getting a very mutual energy it's really sweet 🧁 I'm getting teary now !

Pile 3-

The first thing I saw was the light between their chests like the love is glowing inside them 💛🌸 aww it's beautiful, they are looking at each other with disbelief and so many questions in their head about the whole situation , I'm also getting how on earth I found you like they had lost all the hopes for love ❤️ the masculine gives sweet , 🧁 cupcake vibes and the girl appears to be a baddie to me , she's also stylish even the guy is ,also I feel like the guy wants to say something but the words are stucked in his Adam's apple like he's not being able to say anything , the girl wants to kiss him also he's looking at her very passionately , also there's so much pink energy that it feels like a new spark !

Please read this pretty💗💗 !!

( it is my first time 💗 doing a reading so please don't take this seriously at all , i just did this for fun and I wrote whatever came to my mind by seeing these pictures so that's that , but if it resonated please 🥺 let me know!)

[6esiree]

𝟐.𝟑𝐊 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

(𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞! 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭)

Hey, y’all! So, I just wanted to say thank you to each and every one of you in a crazy little way for the amount of love and support you’ve shown me—and continue to show me—since April. If it weren’t for you guys, I probably would have gone insane a while ago. Seriously, y’all keep me happy with your lovely comments and creative tags you add to your reblogs 😭🫶

Anywho, this giveaway I had in mind is more of a contest because I have less time to write and whatnot. Plus, I’m sure some of y’all would just *love* to return the favor by writing a story for me! (I’m joking, LOL) I regret to inform y’all that there’s only one winner in this situation, but the prize is fantastic, especially for my fellow Alastor simps. I’m giving away a 8 x 10 streamily Alastor poster signed by Amir Talai himself, and it comes with a certificate of authentication, too!

So, if you’re interested, all you have to do is:

⊹ Follow me. I am celebrating my followers, after all!

⊹ Upload an original character x reader story to tumblr that’s at least 2.5k words long and tag me so I can see it. You’re free to surpass this amount! Oh, and if I find out it’s AI written you’re immediately disqualified from the contest.

⊹ I was going to say that it can be about any of the character’s I’ve expressed interest in on my blog, which includes Alastor, Vox, Lucifer, and Adam, but honestly, I recommend you write for Alastor, Human Alastor, or Vox. I love them to bits :P

⊹ It can be fluff, smut, or angst—I do not mind. I’m not really picky about what I read, but if anybody would like to know, I’m a freak who loves tropes and x Gen Z reader stuff.

⊹ I ask of you to not write anything too graphic, though, like gore, vomit, or scat. (If I think of anything else, I’ll add it to this list)

Important: If you have any questions or want to make sure if what you had in mind is okay with me, you’re more than welcome to ask! Also, you have approximately 2 weeks to write your fic. I have a lot on my plate and I’m sure lots of y’all do as well, so I don’t want anyone who decides to join to rush themselves!

The Deadline to upload your fic is 11/21/24!

[astrophileous]

Love Bugs (Pt. 06)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): cursing--there's a lot of it--like a lot, psychopathic behaviors, being held captive, verbal and physical violence, degrading nicknames, talks of death and unaliving someone, strangulation, PLS READ WITH CAUTION BECAUSE THIS PART IS REALLY GRIM I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING

Word Count: 4200-ish

Tag(s): I'm tagging everyone who requested to be tagged prior to the long hiatus, pls tell me if you'd like to NOT be included in the tag list for future updates, thanks! @marvelousgoldroses @jay-2s-world @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cat-or-kitten @littleshadow17 @itzz-me-duh @geeksareunique @paisleebubbles @whateverrrrrrrrs @crazyunsexycool @louderfortheback @wifeyofeveryone

Author's Note: HI EVERYONE HOW ARE YOU?? I know this is long overdue, but pls enjoy the new part of love bugs! I'm so happy to be posting again and I hope you like what I've got in plans for this series. I think we only have one or maybe two chapters left for this story (depending whether I want to write an epilogue or not lol) but in the meantime, pls enjoy this part and don't forget to LIKE+REBLOG+COMMENT !!! thank you 🌹

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

The bullpen of FBI headquarters was still reeling in the aftermath of a Derek-Morgan-shaped hurricane.

Emily was just about to enter the vicinity again when she heard the tail end of Derek's furious words, right before Hotch had ordered him to retreat.

"What was that about?" Emily asked as she approached Rossi's side, eyes never straying from the two men who soon disappeared into Hotch's office.

Rossi never addressed Emily's question. Instead, he gestured for her--and everybody else in the room--to be quiet with a finger on his lips, before he pressed the unmute button on the telephone.

"Hello?"

The UnSub's head jerked at Rossi's unfamiliar voice. You were barely successful in getting him to calm down following Derek's unexpected outburst, but the sound of Rossi's voice was threatening to throw all of those poor attempts straight out of the window.

"Who is that?" he demanded warily. "Where's Agent Hotchner?"

"He had to step away for a second," Rossi notified. "I'm SSA David Rossi. I also work with Agent Hotchner and Agent (Y/L/N)."

"I know who you are."

"Yeah? I still don't know who you are, though."

A responding groan vibrated from the other line. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"*

"No one thinks anything here, pal. Just wanted to know who I was speaking to, that's all." At the UnSub's clear signs of agitation, Rossi quickly added, "It'd be nice to know the person who clearly means a lot to (Y/N)."

Rossi's reassurance obviously managed to trigger the intended effect it had sought. Everyone could see how the UnSub physically deflated at Rossi's words, meaning that hopefully he was soon going to let his guard down.

"I can't tell you who I am," your assailant said, still adamant, although his resolve was wearing thin with each word he had stated. "You're just gonna use it to track me down and keep us apart."

The last syllable of his sentence was emphasized by the weight of his dagger on the side of your neck. You instinctively winced at the unwelcomed touch of the blade before schooling your expression once more so your captor wouldn't notice.

"I promise you, no one is going to do that," Rossi said.

"He's telling the truth," you decided to chime in, surprising everyone including the UnSub whose grip of the dagger had teetered dangerously closer to your pulse point at the sudden proclamation. "They are good people. They don't break promises or tell lies. I promise you, nothing will come between us."

The silence that fell next was heavy with the UnSub's hesitation. Bracing yourself, you forced your head to tilt back, locking eyes with him who was still standing like a guard dog right behind you.

"I swear, Darling," you vowed.

The lull in your voice--or perhaps the fact that you had called him darling in front of your team, which he could arguably take as a display of affection--must have stirred up something in his twisted mind. He actually preened at you before his eyes went right back towards the direction of the camera on the wall.

"My name is Arthur," he confessed.

A particular thread of memory in your brain immediately lit up.

Back in the bullpen, JJ and Spencer were finally returning with documents containing your phone records that they had promptly asked Kevin to gather. Spencer didn't waste any time before perching himself on his desk to start rummaging through the thick pile of files.

"Arthur?" Rossi repeated the name, eyes flicking over to Garcia with a silent request to start cross-referencing the name with the other names they had acquired so far in the investigation.

The tech analyst didn't need to be told twice. She began typing furiously on her laptop as Rossi's attention was drawn back towards the projector.

The UnSub hadn't moved an inch. His hand was still just as sturdy on your shoulder. The blade was also still just as cold as it pressed onto your skin.

One wrong move, and you would end up no better than a slaughter animal on the cold hard ground.

"Do you have a last name, Arthur?" Rossi asked.

The entire bullpen held their breath in anticipation. Rossi had planted the bait as strategically as he could. It was up to the UnSub to take it and slip up the one information that would give them a major lead to end this case once and for all.

But before the UnSub could respond, a muffled beeping resonated in the air, through the telephone line, and finally into the bullpen. The sound was enough to make your assailant faltered.

"I have to go."

It was the last thing he uttered before the line, along with the livestream, went completely dead.

The atmosphere was laden with restlessness as everyone tried to make peace with the fact that they had just lost the only mean of communication they had with you. Without the feed from the livestream, no one could possibly know what was going on. The team would have no idea if something were to happen to you.

They would have no idea how to determine whether you were alive or dead.

"Did you find anything yet, Garcia?" Rossi questioned, although in all honestly, it sounded more like a desperate plea.

The thick regret behind Garcia's eyes gave Rossi the answer he needed to know.

"I can't find any Arthur in our files, sir," Garcia informed.

"Anything from her phone records? What about the hospital?" Rossi tried again.

Emily shook her head almost remorsefully.

"Nothing yet," Spencer spoke up from his place on the desk. "Not a single thing stands out from her records."

"What now?" JJ sighed, exhaustion and worry beginning to decorate the lines on her face.

The whole bullpen stood still, as if everyone was waiting for a slice of miracle to descend into the room, holding a map that would eventually lead the team to where you were still being held captive. But such a map didn't exist in this piece of reality, and the BAU knew that they were running out of time.

"Garcia, did you record the livestream by any chance?" Spencer asked at last.

"Yeah, of course I did."

Penelope punched a few keys on her keyboard before the projector once again came alive with the footage from the livestream.

"Can you fast forward to the very end?" Spencer requested. "And then play it again backwards to the beginning."

"What are you thinking, Spence?" JJ wondered.

"I don't know. I just... maybe there's a detail we missed. At this point, even the smallest piece of clue is worth pursuing."

Several pair of eyes glued themselves on the screen as the livestream footage ran backward at a faster speed. Bated breaths waited in tension for just the tiniest hint that the team could scour to determine your location.

"Wait. What was that?" Spencer interjected. "Garcia, play that again."

"What? What is it?" Emily spoke up.

"Look at her hand." Spencer stood up from the desk, approaching the screen to get a better look. "She's knocking against the chair. Garcia, zoom in on her hand. The left one."

Penelope did as she was asked. "Is that--"

"It's morse code," Rossi muttered, realization overtaking his countenance.

"What is she saying?" JJ questioned.

"A-U--" Spencer began spelling out loud, "--T... Auto. She's spelling auto."

"Auto?" JJ's forehead creased. "As in... auto shop?"

"Her records said she went to a mechanic a week ago," Spencer recalled. JJ immediately rummaged through the papers on Spencer's desk, but the pages flipping inside of Spencer's mind moved at a thousand times more speed than any normal pair of eyes ever could. "Dinozzo's Auto Service, 894 Southwell Street."

"Got it," Penelope chimed in from her place in front of the laptop. "Dinozzo's Auto Shop. Originally owned by Carlo Dinozzo before it was passed down to his two sons after his death a year ago."

"Any of them named Arthur?" Rossi asked

"Nope. Luca and Piero."

"What about the employees?" Emily suggested.

"No. I'm not seeing any Arthur anywhere near that place."

"We profiled that the UnSub could be holding down a steady job in his everyday life," JJ said. "He might not even be related to that place. Maybe (Y/N) encountered him there by chance?"

"Nah, I doubt it." Rossi shook his head. "The bastard's too sophisticated to leave anything up to chance like that. He must have found a way to orchestrate it one way or another."

"There must be a connection somewhere, then. No way he just chose a random place off the map," Emily muttered. "We should cross-reference the name to anyone associated with the Dinozzos."

Penelope began to frantically type something into her laptop. "We've still got three names here. Oh, never mind. Two names, 'cause one of them is dead."

"What do we have on them?" Spencer asked.

"First is Arthur Doyle. He went to high school with Luca and Piero Dinozzo, works in a local company, and looks like he travels a lot for his job," Penelope explained. "There's also an Arthur Harrison, works as an accountant in the heart of Arlington. His dad and Carlo Dinozzo were long-time pals. Apparently, his dad was an accountant too and used to handle the shop's finances before Arthur inherited the office. Oh."

"What? What'd you find?"

"Arthur was engaged," Penelope murmured, "to a Claire Dumont. They were gonna get married last year but the wedding was called off just one month before the D-day."

"Where's Claire now?" JJ asked.

"She moved to Ohio shortly after the breakup, and... oh my God. Guess what?" Penelope looked up, her eyes widening almost comically. "She just announced her engagement three months ago."

Spencer hummed. "That could be the stressor."

An image of a woman suddenly appeared on screen, right above the paused footage of your hand. Everyone stared at the picture in shock.

"That's Claire Dumont," Penelope murmured.

JJ held her breath. "She and (Y/N) could be sisters."

"We've found our guy," Rossi declared. "Garcia, pull up every known address associated with this man. And hurry, we don't have much time."

"I have three properties so far connected to Arthur Harrison. Sending the addresses to all of your phones."

As JJ, Spencer, and Rossi rushed to exit the bullpen, Emily turned around and called out to the others, "I'm grabbing Morgan and Hotch!"

Without stopping to knock, Emily pushed open the door to Hotch's office, ignoring the slivers of tension dancing around in the air.

"We may have something," Emily announced to the room. "We think we know where (Y/N) is."

Your assailant--Arthur, as it turned out--pulled his phone out and pressed a few buttons in, silencing the beeping. Once the noise was gone, the room was quiet again.

He looked at you, then. Piercingly. You squirmed underneath his scrutiny.

"Wait here," he eventually said. "I'll be back."

Without taking a second to breathe, Arthur flew past you and towards the direction he had appeared from earlier.

"Wait! Wait. Where are you going?"

The sound of steps ceased on top of concrete. You waited with bated breath for his response. But the only sound ever came was that of the metal door, and as quickly as you could count to three, he was gone.

At last, you were alone once more.

The traces of adrenaline had begun to dissipate out of your system, leaving you in a shivering mess inside that damp concrete room. Once again, you attempted with all of your might to free yourself from the state of confinement you were in. But the metal cuffs binding you to the chair only dug further into your skin the more you tried to escape, while the chair itself stayed nailed in place no matter how hard you tried to rock it.

After a few more minutes of futile attempts, you were forced to face the reality of your situation.

You were never going to get yourself out of that dingy place alone.

Huffing a breath, you knew that there was nothing more you could do except to hope that your team found the hidden message you had left for them to solve.

And with that last thought conquering every room your head, you let yourself succumb to the impending darkness.

You woke up gasping for air.

It took you a few seconds to remember where you were, to remember that you weren't back in the comfort of your apartment and instead, you were still holed up in the darkened cold room where your abductor had been keeping you captive.

It took a few seconds more to realize that the drowning dream you just had might have been a tad bit more real than you initially thought.

Still reeling in shock, you peered up and locked eyes with your abductor, eyes barely registering the empty bucket he was holding in one of his hands. It didn't take a genius to conclude that he was the one responsible for your drenched state.

"W-what?" you stuttered meekly. "What's going on?"

He only stared at you in response.

"Arthur?"

You shrieked loudly when Arthur threw the empty bucket against the wall, sending a resounding "bang" throughout the whole room and breaking the plastic object into two misshaped pieces.

"Arthur--" you gasped, searching for your voice that seemed to have disappeared beneath the layers of brewing fear, "--w-what... what are you... what's going on? Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you, you fucking bitch."

The beating inside your chest fastened. Before you could ask yet another question, Arthur had lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so you could stare directly into his eyes.

"You're a fucking liar," he seethed. "You lied to me. Everything you said was a lie, wasn't it?!"

"I don't--" you hissed, trying to ignore the biting pain in your scalp, "--I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Stop fucking lying!!!"

A sharp smack reverberated in the air.

It was only when the ringing in your ear grew louder did you realize that Arthur had slapped your cheek.

Hard.

Ignoring the tingling on the side of your face, you lifted your head once more. The room was spinning, tilting your balance left and right, but you held your ground through it all.

"What did I lie to you about, Arthur?" you asked carefully.

He threw something at your feet. It clanged against the hard ground below before landing face up near your toes.

It was your phone.

But the fact that Arthur somehow had your phone in his possession wasn't what caused the sick feeling to stir northward in your belly.

It was what you were seeing on the now cracked screen of your phone: a picture of you and Derek. A selfie that you had impulsively taken of the two of you in bed after one of your nighttime escapades.

For awhile there, you had briefly forgotten about that photo. It was another lost memory in the ocean of rubble left behind in the wake of your fallout with Derek. Seeing that photo again after such a long time triggered waves of emotions that you had been desperately burying for the past few weeks.

The longing, the guilt, the heartache.

The regrets.

The regret of ending your little arrangement so abruptly in such a hostile manner. The regret of not telling Derek sooner about the baby. The regret of maybe never being able to see Derek for one last time.

But most importantly, it was the regret over not revealing the truth of what your heart felt for him that was eating you alive.

"You're fucking him," Arthur fumed, eyes blazing with an indescribable fury that made your entire body shudder.

"Arthur, please... I can explain--"

"Shut the fuck up."

He stepped forward once more, crowding your personal place and rendering you helpless underneath his psychopathic gaze.

"Tell me the truth, and if you dare lie--" Arthur paused, his hand disappearing behind his back before it appeared again with a dagger that he promptly pressed against your abdomen, "--don't ever dream of meeting your child."

"Okay. Okay, I'll tell you the truth."

"You're fucking him, aren't you?"

The bile in your throat had tripled in size. Swallowing it down, you tried to even your voice out as you answered, "I was."

"Ha," he scoffed. "I knew it. You fucking whore. You're no better than any of them."

To your relief, he eventually chose to retract the dagger and stepped away from you, opting to circle the room like a distressed lion in a cage. But even with the blade no longer touching your skin, you knew very well that the danger wasn't over yet and that things could escalate even further in a matter of seconds if you weren't careful.

"Arthur," you called out to him softly, slowly, as to not startle him and risk doing something that would trigger a psychotic break. "Arthur, please. You have to listen to me. That arrangement ended long ago. It meant nothing to me. It happened long before I met you."

Arthur's voice echoed coldly as he replied, "I don't believe you."

"Please, Arthur--"

"That's his child, isn't it?" he cut you off, pointing the tip of the dagger at your belly. "What he said on the phone. He said my child. That's because it's his. You're having Derek Morgan's child."

"No--"

"I thought you were different. I thought you were the one." The dagger in his hand shook with venom. "But you're just the same as the rest of them."

"I'm not. Please, I'm not--"

"I have to start searching again. For the one. You're not her, which means she's still out there."

"Arthur--"

"I'll have to get rid of you."

"Arthur, please!" Your voice cracked, leaking of terror and desperation larger than anything you had ever known. When something wet touched the side of your nose, you realized then that you had started to cry. "Arthur, you have to believe me. I've ended everything with him. There's nothing between us anymore."

The words you uttered kept lingering in the air in a bubble made out of despair. But as if every single one of them had fallen on deaf ears, your captor paid no attention to them. Not even a single acknowledgment to your pleas.

Instead, he had begun taking careful steps forward. Silent and deadly, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Arthur, please! I choose you!"

To your shock, his steps faltered upon your words.

For a moment, you could taste relief on the tip of your tongue before it was washed away by the knowledge that you were not entirely out of the woods yet. But from the corner of your eye, you could see the slight loosening of Arthur's grip around the dagger. It filled you with enough hope to push forward.

"I'm choosing you, Arthur," you stated confidently, trying to convince him of your sincerity. "I don't care about Derek. I'm done with him. I'm done with my old life and everyone in it. I'm ready to leave everything behind to be with you. I choose you."

"You choose me?"

"Yes. I choose you to take care of me. To take care of this baby. The three of us can be a family. How does that sound?"

Seconds ticked into minutes. Minutes stretched into a long silence. The anticipation threatened to break your chest in half.

When he finally began to move once more, Arthur surprised you. He threw the dragger towards a darkened corner in the room, far away from his reach and, most importantly, far away from the possibility of it harming the growing life inside of you.

When Arthur took off the ski mask he had been wearing since the first time you opened your eyes in that harrowing place, you weren't at all surprised to see the face staring back at you. After all, it was the same face belonging to the man who had stopped his car for you when your own car had mysteriously broken down in the middle of the road just around two weeks prior. The same face who offered a business card of his friend's auto shop where you eventually went to get your vehicle fixed.

In retrospect, you should have been at least a little bit suspicious by the whole ordeal, but was it really your fault for choosing to put your trust in the good of humanity?

You knew there was no point in dwelling over what-ifs anymore. Arthur would've found a way, like any psychopath would, and you would've still ended up being tied up in this dismal room with him.

"Did you mean it?" Arthur asked.

You put on your best fake smile before answering, "Yes."

He grabbed you in his arms in just two long strides.

You wanted to throw up. You hated the feeling of his fingers stroking your back. You wanted to kick him away and get this piece of shit as far away from you and your baby as possible. You wanted to rid yourself of the lingering smell of him that had now undoubtedly transferred into your skin.

And maybe, you would've done all of those things if it was only your life that was on the line.

Unfortunately, fighting back was a luxury you couldn't afford anymore. So, you were forced to stay quiet instead, letting your captor whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if it didn't repulse you even being in the same room as him.

You were close to counting towards the 200s in your head when, suddenly, a clanking noise in the distance ripped your attention away.

In a split second, Arthur had peeled his arms from around you and got back on his feet. You knew then that he must have heard it, too.

You watched as he stepped away, dragging a crate from one corner of the room and placing it strategically underneath the only opening on the walls. He got on top of the crate to allow himself to peek outside, but whatever he saw must have startled him greatly. Because the next thing you knew, he had backed away from the wall in the blink of an eye, face crumpling in what could only be described as panic.

"The cops are here," he managed to sputter out.

"What?"

Your heart was hammering inside of its cage. The cops are here. You realized then that the team must have solved the clue you left them. They had solved the case, and they were coming to save you.

Derek was coming to save you.

"What did you do?!"

In a moment of weakness, you had allowed yourself to rejoice in the promise of freedom that you momentarily forgot you actually hadn't possessed it yet. The slip-up was miniscule, but it wasn't fleeting enough to escape the attention of your captor.

"You tricked me!" Arthur's voice boomed throughout the room, carrying rage unlike anything you had ever known. "I trusted you, and you lied to me! Again."

"Arthur--"

This time, there was no room for negotiation.

Arthur didn't even waste a millisecond before he dove forward. He was a lion, and you were the deer. His sharp teeth were calloused fingers, and they dug into your skin as Arthur tightened his grip around your throat.

"You lied to me. You lied to me."

He repeated those words like a mantra, his voice drowned out by desperate gasps as you tried to scour for what little bit of air you could still revel in. Your feet and arms shook beneath their restrains. Your head pounded from the pressure that had gathered inside your skull.

In that moment, death was imminent.

You could feel it coming. You could feel its claws clutching every single drop of life that was still remaining in your bloodstream. It was a battle between the two, and unfortunately, death was winning.

As the dark spots in your vision spread into a massive blotch, you allowed yourself to say goodbye. To life. To the world. To the memories of your loved ones whose faces you wished you could've memorized one last time.

To Derek, the one who could've been, the one you wished had been.

And to the child in your womb, the one you wished you could've met, the one you wished you could've saved.

When darkness came, you expected it to be cold and unforgiving, but as it turned out, darkness was easy. Simple. It welcomed you into its home with open arms, shielding you from the cruelties of the mundane world.

As it pulled you deeper into its abode, you could faintly hear the sound of your name being called repeatedly. It sounded similar. It sounded like home.

But this was your home now, so without turning back, you allowed darkness to lead you further down the dim path. Away from the pain and the heartbreaks of life. Far from the evil that lurked in the streets behind their well-crafted masks.

In the darkness, there was nothing.

In the darkness, you were nothing.

And nothing was exactly what you were going to be.

[burning-academia-if]

How would the ROs react to a drunk Mc rejecting them and keeping telling them, "I have a partner, so back off" when the MC and the RO are in a relationship?

Rook: This makes him so goofily happy, like you're so so dumb when you're drunk but he's also a little drunk and there's just something about the way you're so adamant about it that really gets to him. Maybe because the reality of you two being together still hasn't set in yet.

Beck: Beck is laughing under his breath, trying to coax you back to him like one would a nervous animal, "MC...it's me, Beck. Come on, let's get you home." He gently takes you by the arm and leads you back home, whispering assurances whenever you start protesting again.

Rhea: This is such a welcome change in a relationship for her. She still is Not Good at dealing with drunk people, but also seeing that you're truly dedicated to her even when drunk is assuring. She'll enlist one of her friends to help convince you to bring you back home, trying to make you snap out of it to realize it's her.

Zoe: They don't try to argue, wondering how much you've had to drink to not recognize them since they think appearance wise they are pretty recognizable. Would probably say "I know, Zoe asked me to bring you back." And lead you out of there. Finds the whole thing a little silly and nice, if not a tad exasperating.

Lars: "I know you do, because it's me." He inwardly groans, considering just...throwing you over his shoulder to get you out of there LOL but outwardly taking a more diplomatic approach. He also just thinks something about this situation is very You. If you start to protest, he's just like "Who else knows about (insert embarrassing secret here)" and when it throws you off in your drunken state he snags the opportunity to get you home

???: Has a small little smile on their face, "It's me, you know." Pulls on the connection they know you can feel even in your state. Gently takes your hands, with the scars that mirror yours, while trying to hide how adorable they think you are, and leads you back home.

[thesweetestdevotion]

Could you do jk as bf and husband reading like you did for tae?

Thanks

Hii!!!

Jungkook as a Boyfriend/Husband:

As a Boyfriend:

Dice: Scorpio, 12th House, Mars

Tarot: Seven of Cups, The World, Queen of Swords Reversed, Knight of Wands, The Chariot, Nine of Wands, King of Wands, Knight of Cups Reversed, The Hanged Man Reversed, The Devil

I think he could be very overwhelmed on a regular basis so he might have trouble choosing what to prioritize in his life. He would often be swamped with work which could be difficult to deal with fr both him and his partner. He'd be very passionate and charming with his partner, lots of flirting and romance here. however i think he gets bored quickly... there could also be some bad habits or behaviors that affect the relationship as well. I think he can be very hot and cold sometimes lol. There's just a lot of things that he has to juggle and his energy seems kinda scattered here. I still feel he's very romantic and loving but there are many other things that he would have to prioritize over a dating situation and this could cause issues with communication and interfere with the commitment. He could be a bit harsh or intense with the way he communicates. with the scorpio 12th house mars he probably prioritizes privacy and intimacy in connections and they could be very intense and deep. The world tells me he's focused on his goals and with the chariot hes driven towards completing them. The chariot comes right after the lovers in the major arcana and it shows the "leaving" of home and comforts to achieve some sort of goal or fulfillment. I just dont see him really prioritizing relationships outside of passion and romance. He's kid of all over the place lol.

As a Husband:

Dice: 8th House, Sagittarius, Sun

Tarot: Knight of Cups, Six of Swords Reversed, Queen of Wands, King of Cups Reversed, Seven of Swords, Four of Cups Reversed, Judgement Reversed, The Star, Eight of Coins, Three of Swords, Seven of Cups Reversed

Damn he’s… intense 😭. I think he’s very romantic and open with his emotions, he seems to appreciate his partner and is very happy about marriage connections. i think he probably has dreamed about it before, and even idealizes the concept of marriage. He'd take it very seriously and might even put his partner on a pedestal. I think he'd be very adamant about defending his person and their connections from sneakyness and backstabbing people. I think he's more motivated and proactive about romance and passion and also a lot more controlled in his emotions. I think there may be some past bad habits that could show up in the relationship and cause some discord, but he feels a lot more mature and willing to change for the better of the relationship. I think he's also very good at sharing his time and resources with his partner. He'd also put the relationship at his top priority unlike before. Idk why im gettig this but he could be a lot older before he's i this energy. This feels like a future situation coming up, i dont think he'd be like this if he were to marry now hehe. He might need a few years to get here, which is totally normal. He'd probably have slowed down a lot in terms of career or even public life, though i still see he'd be working, maybe just becoming more balanced in his priorities.

remember tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only!! xxx

[danikamariewrites]

I searched for Feysand x reader all over tumblr and you were one of the top creators so I looked around and fell into the rabbit hole of masterlists… I’ve been on your page for hours now and i’m not tired at all.

And I saw your request were open and i’m so happy bc I wanted to ask if i could request feysand x reader where feyre and reader are pregnant at the same time. Like we all know how protective rhys was in the books, now imagine two mates at the same time. Like his instincts wouldn’t let anyone too close to them bc his mates are in vulnerable situations. Maybe someone like Beron or Tamlin jokes around and Rhys doesn’t handle it well or smth plssss🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Double Trouble

Feysand x reader

A/n: omg thank you 😭😭 I get nervous that I write too much and that ppl will get sick of me lol. So thank you for reading my fics 💕

Warnings: Tamlin being a douche

Rhys has been more paranoid since you and Feyre both started showing. The revelation of both you being pregnant excited and frightened him at the same time. Causing his over protective mate instincts to kick in. The two of you had tried to get him to rest knowing he had a High Lords meeting coming. But the stubborn male insisted he was fine.

A few times when you got up to pee in the middle of the night - a new routine thanks to your pregnancy - you found Rhys wide awake. He would watch over you and Feyre like a hawk until he fell asleep sitting up.

Yesterday Rhys had insisted he could skip the meeting and just stay with the two of you. It was a day long battle for a compromise. “Rhysand. We will be fine here with Amren watching over us and Nyx.” Feyre said sternly as Rhys came to tell you he changed his mind about your plans, again.

He shook his head vehemently, “Nope. I need to be here.” You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut and willing your mate to go away. “What will it take to get you to go to this meeting?” You sighed out.

Feyre perked up, wiggling her fingers, “Oh, I have an idea! What if we come with you. Helion can have a room for us, Cass, Az, and Mor will be there, it’ll be so easy.”

You could tell Rhys was considering it from the pensive look on his face. And he didn’t immediately shut Feyre down.

He nodded, mumbling out ���I’ll think about it’ before heading back to his office.

You shoot Feyre a knowing look, “You just want those bonbons Helion gets.” “Yes! I’ve been craving them for months. And I want them fresh, not in a box.”

Snuggling up next to your mate on the couch you place a hand on her bump. Feyre does the same to you, resting her forehead against yours. “I don’t blame you,” you giggle out, “I’m happy I get to experience this with you Fey. Even if Rhys is being a mother hen.” She lightly pecked your lips. “Me too y/n/n. I love you”

———

Thankfully Rhys had agreed to you two coming along to the Day Court and you’d spend the night. Winnowing took a lot of energy from you and Feyre, so Rhys was adamant about you two resting as much as possible.

Before leaving you all gave Nyx hugs and kisses. He would stay with Elain and Nesta while you were gone. He hated when you left but enjoyed his time with Aunty Lain.

Winnowing to the Day palace Helion was waiting to greet you. “You’re the first to arrive.” He said cheerfully. The two High Lords shook hands as Helion guided your little group inside. Cassian offered his arm to Feyre while Az offered you his.

“I set up a very comfortable room for you two to relax in. No meeting for you, I’m sure there’s enough stressful things around you these days.” He says, eyeing Rhys. “Thank you Helion.” You say sweetly. “And you got our snack requests?” Feyre asks.

Helion throws his head back, laughing at her blunt question. “Of course I did. You’ll find you are well stocked on any foods your hearts desire.” You and Feyre smile at each other knowing you’re about to have the best snack and relax sesh.

You walked Rhys to the meeting room, like you promised, before leaving him. He takes one of your hands in his, giving you both a loving look. “Do you need anything? What can I do for you before everyone gets here?” “Nothing my love.” Feyre says softly. You bring a hand up to caress his cheek, “We’re just fine baby. You focus, do your thing and help Prythian, yeah?”

He gives you and Feyre a quick kiss before Helion’s personal guard escorts you to your rooms.

Opening the door your senses are overwhelmed by the scent of the sweet treats spread out for you. You and Feyre look at each other licking your lips in excitement. You wasted no time sprawling out on the lounges, digging into whatever was in arms reach.

Hours later Rhys, Cass, Az, and Mor joined you. Rhys was overjoyed to see you two after being separated. “You should’ve seen him when Kal asked where you were. He snarled.” Cassian teases as Rhys nudges his way to sit between you and Feyre. “I did not.”

Mor rushed over to you, lightly placing a hand on each of your bellies. “How are both Mor juniors doing.” You giggle at the blonde, “They have been perfect little angels.”

“No discomfort, extreme fatigue, or -“ “Rhys, we were fine.” Feyre cuts him off. He seems to relax at that. The tension in his shoulders loosening as he bats Mor away so he can feel the babes kick. Rhys lets out a breathy laugh as little feet push against his palms. “Hi angels, did you miss daddy?” Two more kicks in response.

The babes love the sound of Rhys’s voice. Like with Nyx, he talks to them every night. It doesn’t matter if you and Feyre are awake or asleep, he will always make time for the babes.

“Don’t forget,” Azriel speaks up from his spot in an armchair. He’s picking at a bowl of chocolates you hadn’t gotten to yet. “We have dinner in about an hour with everyone.” Rhys wasn’t pleased by the reminder. Something tells you that he was never going to tell you and Feyre about dinner.

Feyre stands, pulling you with her. “We will go get ready then.” She says happily.

You exit the bedroom with a few minutes to spare. Feyre chose a glittering black dress that hung off her shoulders. She decided to leave her crown behind for the night, putting her hair half up with small braids meeting in the middle.

You had decided on a midnight blue dress specked with pearls. The flowing fabric on both your dresses not hiding the fact that you’re pregnant. Rhys eyed the two of with lust sparkling in those iridescent violet irises.

He offers you each an arm to walk down to dinner. Rhys walks at slow pace for the two of you. When Feyre noticed she rolled her eyes and you both pulled him along. When the six of you enter the grand dining room you feel eyes on you. Thankfully not autumn ones. Azriel told you Beron and his court left after the meeting was over. Very typical of Beron to come and complain then leave, making no effort to improve court relations.

Viviane and Thesan shriek in excitement at the sight of you. “Congratulations! How did I not know?” She said excitedly. “When are you due?” Thesan asks immediately after her. The pair continue their onslaught of questions as you answered before the next question came up.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Tamlin tensing. Clearly unhappy about the topic of conversation. Feyre and Rhys caught on to his unhappiness as well. Feyre tried to change the topic, asking Thesan about how things were going with his lover.

Tamlin and Rhys made uncomfortable eye contact. The males looked like they were about to jump across the table at each other. Rhys pulled your chair closer to him so you’d be away from Tamlin. He was across the table diagonal from you. It’s not like you were that close him but if it made Rhys feel better.

“Do you have something you’d like to say, Tamlin?” Rhys snapped. The High Lord of Spring scoffs, a wicked smirk on his face. “Well I just think it quite odd they’re both pregnant. Why on earth would you want two more.”

Everyone stopped speaking, looking anywhere but at them. Even you and Feyre looked at the table. You could tell she was fuming about Tamlin’s joking tone. “Is that an insult about my son? Or perhaps you’re angry about your situation. If you need to talk about it I’m sure you can find someone who will listen.” Rhys gave him a fake smile and went back to his meal.

Conversation slowly started up again. Tamlin excused himself, only saying goodbye to Helion before stepping out into the hallway to winnow home.

Once back in your rooms for the evening Rhys had you and Feyre cuddled up on either side of him. “Thank you for standing up for our family.” Feyre whispered. “I always will darling. You’re the most important people in the whole world to me.”

You let out a yawn and snuggle close to Rhys. “Let’s get some sleep. This little angel is kicking me for some shut eye.” “This one too.” Feyre yawns out. “Awww, I’m sorry I’m keeping your mommy’s up.” Rhys whispers. He kisses both of your bumps as you drift off.

[belit0]

Heylloooooo. How are you doinnn?

Can you do a scenario where the reader offers to trim the hair of the founder's + indra + izuna. Their hair is so much damaged due to all the jutsu they practice and negligence. So the reader offers them a relaxing shampoo and hair trim.

Hey there!! Extremely tired, but holding up. I'm having vacations soon, so looking forward to that!

How are you nonny? Feeling and doing okay? 🤗❣️

I found this request so cute and funny that I had to prioritize it, lol.

Indra

- "I don't require any of that, my hair is fine, that's highly feminine, humiliating." It will take a lot of convincing, but both using good words and managing him without letting Indra realize exactly what she is doing, (Y/N) gets her husband to surrender to her hands. The Otsutsuki does not agree to step full body into the bathtub, bent over the edge and resting his bare chest on the fine cold marble. His hair rains down on the water and is submerged to a certain length, while she uses a cup to wet his scalp. Somehow, impossible in the awkward position but apparently possible for him, he relaxes so much that he stops protesting, accepting the washing in silence. Between massages, (Y/N) inspects the damage, and concludes that it is a sin for a hair as beautiful as Indra's, with golden highlights, to look so dull. Although he maintains impeccable body hygiene, he has no idea how to take care of his mane, dry and brittle from all the battles he's been through. He hisses when the water is too hot, and tries to end the whole situation, but once he's knee-deep in it, there is no way to escape. Indra does not usually turn his back, show his neck, or allow anyone to approach him with sharp objects while he is vulnerable and without sight, but today he makes an exception. After all, is his wife who we are talking about. With the cut, he's adamant about her not reducing its length, proud of its iconic longness, and (Y/N) only succeeds in cutting off the split ends. When he looks in the mirror, he complains about losing a lot of hair, even though he genuinely hasn't. A tiny child, in the body of the worst villain of them all.

Madara

- "Yeah... that might be nice... let's see if it gets me out of stress." He surrenders himself to (Y/N)'s magical hands like a cat, allowing her to manipulate his hair and do whatever she wants with it. The girl suspects that if she were to chop off his mane like his father had it, as relaxed as Madara is in his special bath, he wouldn't even notice. Either way, she gives up the idea of playing a joke on him and concentrates on soothing her husband's scalp, bringing the unique pattern of his hair back to life, and restoring a bit of its shine. Gentle shampooing here, cream bathing there, soft drying to keep it damp enough to cut... The Uchiha actually falls asleep while his wife washes his hair, and (Y/N) appreciates how deeply he trusts her, enough to unwind under her fingers. When his mane is finally clean, she wakes him up to get out of the water, pulling him out of the bathtub and sitting him on a chair. With the scissors, she gets rid of all the unsalvageable parts, removing the fire-scorched hair and leaving only the healthy, reducing the length by considerable amounts. Madara, ignorant of any decision she might make about the size or style of her cut, reads a book while sipping a cup of tea, seated cross-legged like a gentleman. Solely dressed in his bathrobe and with his hair full of hooks to separate it in parts, he looks like a lady enjoying a day at the spa. When she finishes, he doesn't even bother to evaluate himself in the mirror, oblivious to his image and unconcerned about what his wife might have done, fully trusting his judgment and accuracy. He is happy and loves his new/almost identical image.

Izuna

- "What? No, there's no way. I said no... well, thinking about it... no. Well, maybe yes..." Another little child. Izuna refuses to admit the damage to his hair, and a whole week passes from the official proposal (Y/N) did, about taking care of his image, until he decides to accept. Manipulated by candy and promises of steamy nights, the Uchiha can't say no, and hands over his mane for his wife to control as she pleases. His hair is considerably thinner than his older brother's, less dense and bushy, but the problem lies in those unruly strands at the back of his head, near the scalp. A mixture of straight and curly hair, how to treat it is a puzzle, but she is determined to find out. She can't get him to take a bath, Izuna claiming he already showered in the morning, and only manages to wet his hair at the kitchen sink, with the man reclining on top of the counter and trying to squeeze the length of his hair into the cramped space. Even though the experience is uncomfortable, he refuses to get in the shower again and insists they do it this way. Needless to say, the kitchen ends up completely soaked, the floor full of water and the cabinet as well, foam floating all over the surfaces. Once ready, they proceed to the cutting, and the Uchiha himself stands in front of the mirror, suddenly excited and engaged in the task, marking the limits he intends (Y/N) not to exceed. He becomes the leader of the situation, and is genuinely pleased with the result. Promises to remind (Y/N) about doing the same thing every month. Every, single, month. Without fail.

Hashirama

- "YES! ARE WE DOING IT NOW?!" In fact, he is the most excited of them all, and is the one who prepares the items (Y/N) might need. On his free afternoon, the Hokage looks for scissors with sufficient sharpness, and in the absence of the right ones, goes to buy them. He prepares his special shampoo, because we all know this Senju is obsessed with having perfect hair, and readies a bathtub with warm water for himself. All the things she intended to set up for him, Hashirama gets them in an hour and surprises her by sitting in the tub with the shampoo in his hand, smiling from ear to ear. He provides instructions on how he likes to massage his own scalp, which areas are sensitive, and where to pay special attention, guiding each movement without the need to physically control (Y/N's) hands. To make the experience more pleasurable, she follows each step, executing it the way he asks. He cannot finish without first applying one of the most expensive conditioners in the world, which he requires her to leave on for at least ten minutes. In the meantime, and with two cucumbers in his eyes, Hashirama relaxes. When he is dry and ready for the haircut, he suggests the idea of styling his hair in a similar way to what he used to wear when he was a child, and it is (Y/N) who has to get that terrible occurrence out of his head. Pouting, he agrees to sit in the chair and let her control this part of the process, without being in charge of the technical direction. He ends up with a cut the length of his middle back, and smiling because he loves it! According to her, there's not much difference from how he had it before, but he doesn't need to know that.

Tobirama

- "You don't need to take care of it, my hair is fine. And if needed, I can do it myself." He has an irrational fear of losing some of his incredible intelligence if he cuts his hair, and has a bit of trouble accepting the offer. (Y/N) can't stand the strawiness of his hair, and Tobirama refuses to admit that's true. Stubborn and dismayed by his wife's approach, he will first try to work it out on his own. He is extremely embarrassed when going to the beauty and cosmetic store, asking for help "for a friend who has bad hair", and accepting guidance on what products "his friend" should use from the young man who works as a manager. When he gathers the necessary information, he refuses to shop at that same establishment and goes to one at the other end of the village, just so the manager won't judge him. He waits until late at night to proceed, once (Y/N) is asleep, and begins his experiments. The problem is he treats his hair as if it were an object of study, misapplying products and cutting off parts he shouldn't have. In the morning and without having slept, he has to admit defeat amidst his own fatigue and disappointment, and agrees to let her take over. He created a mess on his head, with uneven strands and even somehow managed to stain it with a strange color, but nothing she can't fix. After solving the texture problem, using the same products but in the right way, she corrects the premature cut Tobirama tried to self-manage, equalizing each strand's length and leaving his hair presentable again. He won't admit he made a mistake, at least not without crossing his arms over his chest, closing his eyes, and pouting, but he does acknowledge how good his hair now feels.

[queen-of-elves]

Kinktober 2023: Oneshot

Sanji Vinsmoke x f!reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

A/N: bit ooc Sanji? At first I had in mind anime!Sanji but it's a bit of personality hybrid between anime and opla,I tried lol also this is my first smut I actually posted and you can NOT change my mind that Sanji is a service bottom

And yes, I am late as always, had no time to proofread it but I did edit as much as I could

A/N2: the lovely pink MDNI banner is from @cafekitsune and I love their work, definitely check them out and give them some love too

+I have some more Sanji fanfics in WIPs

Words:  2,7K

Warnings: unintentional aphrodisiac use, oral (f! receiving), hair pulling? (Sanji receiving tho), overstimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms,

The Strawhat pirates loved adventures and causing trouble while experiencing them but sometimes their adventures turned into a life or death situation quite easily. It was actually more common than most would think. And that brings us to the situation at hand, all of you running away from what at first seemed like a fun little island which turned out to be home to man eating plants around the size of Thousand Sunny. 

In the end, when everyone boarded the ship and you were far away from the cursed island, you all had to agree on one thing, the stop was much needed. The crew had been on the sea for some time now and the supplies you got from the last town were stretching thin, it had little to do with your long journey, the fault lied with your captain and his midnight raids on the kitchen. But thanks to the island you were now happy to be as far from as you could get, all of you had enough to eat for at least a month, well, according to Sanji, who was not only in charge of the kitchen but also of its protection from your gluttony of a captain.

Speaking of Sanji, you always had a thing for the handsome chef, even though you knew of his habit of flirting with every woman he saw. There was just something about him that didn’t let you sleep at night. One of your favorite activities involving the cook was watching him create various wonderful dishes for the whole crew.

And whatever he was cooking now was smelling delicious, the smell filling the corridors leading to the kitchen, Sanji’s kingdom itself. The whole kitchen smelled of herbs you could not recognize, similar to rosemary but not quite, you of course knew no matter with what Sanji works, he always makes the best dish out of it. And there it was, in a tall metal cooking pot was  the source of the delicious smell, a rich stew full of potatoes and tasty looking meat. You were sure Sanji wouldn’t mind if you had a spoonful before he was done with dinner. 

“You can be the first to taste my new dish if you want.” Oh, speaking of the handsome devil. Turning around you were greeted with quite the sight. The blond cook was casually leaning on the doorframe watching you with a smirk.

“So, I will be the first one to get poisoned from those strange herbs?”

“Oh, you hurt my heart, sweetness. You know I wouldn’t want to poison your or our captain.”

“I don’t think Luffy can get poisoned from anything at this point and anyway, we're talking about your cooking, there is like zero percent chance that it would happen.”

“Well aren’t you sweet. Would you then do me the honor and try my new dish, please sweetheart?” The blond seemed pretty adamant about you trying his dish and since there was no escaping his pleads you decided to grant his wish. After all, you, yourself were already itching to have a taste yourself.

“Of course.” You could clearly tell that Sanji was trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing but was eagerly waiting to see your reaction upon eating the dish.

Holding up a plate so you wouldn’t let even drop escape onto the kitchen counter, you took one of the spoons that sat on it.

“Oh, that’s my-” Sanji didn’t even get to finish before you already put the spoon with the broth in your mouth. “I don’t mind.” Your words seemed to resonate with him and by the look of it had a particular effect considering the bloody nose he was trying to hide. For some reason reactions like this, especially from the pretty cook, seemed to boost your confidence quite a bit. It felt nice to know you had such an effect on him, even though most ladies did too.

A moan ripped out of your throat, the broth was rich, the little bit of meat you were able to fish out onto the small spoon was smooth and just right on the fatty side. He did it once again, created something absolutely sense shattering out of almost nothing. Day and night you were proud of Luffy for getting such a capable cook on his crew just so you could selfishly eat only the best dishes in the world.

There was something different about this whole feeling though, you felt warm but not in the sense you usually did with his food. Sanji was capable of making dishes that would decimate the cold stuck to the crew’s bones after every winter striked island. However the warmth you felt soon turned into a flame in your lower belly.

“Is it good?” The cook was still anticipating any kind of review, a compliment maybe, with a shy smile, he was unsuccessfully trying to hide.

“Yeah-,” you were breathless, struggling to comprehend what was happening but you still moved closer to the young cook, “could I get-?” You motioned to the still bubbling pot, the plate and spoon held up for Sanji to take from you.

“Yeah, of course.” He smoothly took the plate and spoon from your hands and in one swift motion filled the plate for you. “I mean, dinner is soon but-” he held the plate for you to take again “, anything for you, sweetheart.”

His words woke up something in you, the flame turning into a blaze in you. This was starting to be embarrassing the more apparent was your state to him but still you tried to hide it. You knew you couldn’t take the plate from him, your hands were too shaky and sweaty, you were afraid the plate would fall to the ground the moment it left his hand. 

Speaking of his hand, had you always been so fascinated with it as much as you were now? You couldn’t help but trace each vein, his strong grip on the white ceramic or the ring he always wore with your eyes. The moment you started shamelessly and openly pant, lapping on the air around you, you knew the illusion of nothing happening was shattered.

 “I feel hot.” Your gaze started to fog over, still you could recognize Sanji’s confused expression. For a moment he stared embarrassed at your face before he turned back to the pot muttering something about spices and if it’s still cooking.

“Is it that spicy? Maybe the herbs contain too much capsaicin.” He was huffing under his breath, angry at himself for serving you something that was not completely perfect. He was sure he tasted it before letting it boil a bit, he was waiting for the taste of each ingredient to combine. However, he truly did not anticipate such a change in flavor, especially such a drastic one.

“No.” There was a certain weight on your chest and drops of sweat started to appear on your skin. But then you finally recognized the feeling.  “That’s not it.” You couldn’t help but clench your thighs together, the feeling too strong to ignore. It was lust all along.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was thick, you knew Sanji saw right through you the way he stared so shamelessly at your chest before quickly looking up at your face. His embarrassment from his failure to deliver tasty dish soon too turned into something completely different.

“It's your problem too, you caused it!” The heat was spreading now, the tips of your fingers were tingling and your head felt like you were standing in a fog. The feeling was overwhelming you, almost paralyzing your brain. Simple thoughts were starting to be hard to produce.

“So do something about it.” It was also starting to be difficult to speak, to think at all and those words were the only thing you could muster enough power to say. You muttered them under your breath anyway. 

“Wha-what?” His eyes, previously and again stuck on your heaving chest, finally met yours, widening at the realization of what you meant. 

“Ok-okay.”

You never thought you would get into such a situation, especially with the cook. It was not like you didn’t find him attractive, he was. Blond shiny hair, muscular back and strong hands, there was nothing you wouldn’t like. You liked him too much on some occasions, just like this one. 

Your throbbing heat was met with another rough thrust of his tongue interrupting your train of thoughts. You could already feel the bruises forming from the way his hands were gripping your hips, where his long fingers were holding you still. The only clothing still on you was your shirt, pushed over your chest with bra already missing, and pants still holding on to the ankle of your right leg, otherwise you were completely bare for the world to see.

Sanji was all over you, he was everywhere. His hot kisses were still present on your skin even with his mouth already preoccupied with your pussy. Your skin sweaty, beads of it rolling down into the now wet sheets, but there was no thought in your head of the uncomfortable feeling of the bed sheets sticking to your skin. 

Your white shirt was pushed up over your breasts, giving Sanji the perfect view he could ever ask for. Seeing your hard nipples and tasting you was heaven on earth for him. Pulling on his hair to the point you were sure you would rip some but you couldn’t stop, he made you feel too good, your next orgasm was quickly approaching. His hands slowly traveled from your bruised hips to now the globes of your ass, gripping between it and halfway on the way to your thighs. He squeezed your skin once again, enjoying the moan it ripped from your throat, he could only smirk.

He could feel your release coming, your walls tightening, pushing his tongue out but he was going to win this battle. Spasm over took your body, squeal leaving your throat. The overstimulation was too much for your body but too little for what was happening to you, you needed more. 

”I got you, don’t worry, sweetheart.” His tongue dived deeper than before, continuing his ministration of your insides. His motion slowly released tension from your muscles until the next spasm hit you again.

Panting, the words you had on your tongue slipped away into darkness. There was no thought in your head and if there was, it was all about how the young cook was making you feel good and how needy you were for the next release. You were completely gone, moaning, squirming wreck in painful ecstasy. Sanji made you see stars just with his mouth. 

There was an intense stare, unmoving from your face that was full of pleasure, he couldn’t simply look away from you. And then you saw it, his own face wrinkled in pleasure. The only thing the young cook needed for his own lust to explode was your own pleasure and you loved it.

But he was not done with you and so was not your body. The moment you came down from your high the heat was already spreading out again, the never ending cycle continued and you begged for another touch from him. 

“More, Sanji-” another moan ripped from your throat when he pushed you thighs over his shoulders, sinking right back into your cunt, devouring you again”- more!” He wanted to bring you close again but his jaw was getting tired. He needed to rethink his approach so he would be able to give you as much pleasure as possible without getting tired too quickly.

“Can I-?” You knew what he meant, you could feel his finger tracing your outer lips, gathering all the slick it could. Your legs pushed even higher, your pants finally slipping from your right foot on to the ground. Slowly pushing one of his fingers in, he moved his mouth to your clit, giving it attention it deserved. 

This was the feeling you needed to graduate your state, to get closer to another release faster. The motion of his finger pushing in and out was increasing in its speed before Sanji slowed down again, earning him another tug on his hair and displeasing grunt from your lips. But it all had a reason, Sanji made sure to kiss your clit before slowly pushing another finger into you. Carefully stretching you out with two fingers he moved his attention back to your clit. One kiss turned into small licks before his mouth was attached to it again, vigorously sucking while he started to pump his fingers into you with no mercy. He could feel your velvet walls tightening once more, almost sucking him in before another loud shout escaped your lips and your body started to tremble.

The young man had to stop for a moment, the white ring that formed around his fingers that were plunging into your cunt completely hypnotized him. Not wholly aware he curled his fingers inside making you squeeze him even harder, another orgasm approaching fast. If heaven exists, Sanji was sure this was his, this was his holy paradise and if it weren’t for the tears, which he was sure was not entirely from how good he made you feel, he would wish for this to never end. But you were in pain and there was no place in Sanji’s world where he would overlook it for his own pleasure.

He already drew two orgasms from you but the ache in your lower belly was not ending. At this point you were sure you were going to die. You were going to die like this writhing sweaty and moaning mess this gorgeous man made you. It’s like he was made to give you pleasure, to make you feel good. Sanji knew exactly where to touch you to weaken the pain in your core. 

With each orgasm given to you, you would think the ache would be substituted only with pleasure. However, there was no exchange, your body still whined for touch, his touch. You couldn’t move, all your energy was drained in the process of your satisfaction. And even though your limbs turned into jelly at least your thoughts started to finally clear with the last silent scream he could push from you. You had enough energy only for the silent scream, the air already left your lungs, leaving you panting once again. However, there is something delicious building up in your belly, toe curling and brain scraping feeling and if your mind could still function you would know this was the big climax and the end to your suffering and pleasure.

One last push just mere seconds later from the end of your last high resulted into another one. This time you were completely spent, exhaustion slowly overtaking you, still you couldn’t help but smile at Sanji who was giving you adoring looks from between his now messy stuck in eyes hair. If it was not the feeling you experienced this evening that you would remember forever, it would definitely be the sight of Sanji on his knees between your legs. 

Soon it was too hard to stay awake, even though you wanted to. You wanted to stare at Sanji while he slowly got up and went for something to clean you up with, you wanted to stare at his blush painted cheeks and sweat stained hair now sticking to his forehead or the way his dress shirt cling to his sweaty chest but your eyes soon shut completely, just like you shut down the world around you and welcomed the needed sleep.

But if you did stay awake you would know how he slowly cleaned you up before pulling the covers over your exhausted self and if you stayed awake even longer it wouldn’t be only your subconscious deciding to catch his hand before he left, tugging at him as if you wanted him to hold you in your sleep. And for one moment Sanji was selfish and did so, he crawled under the covers next to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you like the most precious treasure. He knew, in the morning he would confess his undying love to you anyway.

Thank you for reading. :)

Bonus??: Sanji didn’t mind he was still painfully hard, from all he had witnessed and done, all it mattered to his stupid mind was that your lust was extinguished for the moment and nothing could change his mind.

Well, maybe except for your slick stained panties laying on the floor right in his line of sight while he was blessed with holding you in his arms.

[rius-cave]

I don't know if this idea has ever been explored. But I always wondered, what if Adam did get redeemed? After years of self reflection and improvement, he's finally welcomed back into heaven. He gets to have his old life back, see his friends, everything he lost is his again.

But then he has his life in hell, his relationship with Lucifer. He's made good friends with people like Angel and maybe even Husk. People like Vaggie have long since forgave him. How do you think Adam would feel about this situation? How would Lucifer feel?

I guess for some unnecessary angst, Adam, for some reason (probably Sera or some rule in heaven), made it to where Adam couldn't be welcomed back if he's still with Lucifer. So he has to choose.

Anon I actually LOOOOOOOVE exploring this idea! I haven't really done anything about it cause, well, I feel like it needs to be a certain way for me to make it justice? Like I don't want to just do a silly black and white vertical comic like I do with one-off jokes, it's a concept that honestly deserves at least something with a bit more detail, like at the very least something like my StOP comic (if you've seen it).

I think it's the perfect climax for an Adam redemption story. Maybe it's cliche and predictable, but godddddd the drama would be soooooooo good dskfjsdf.

If you know that popular comic about Angel Dust getting redeemed, pulled up to heaven, but Husk just confessed to him and Angel never got a chance to say it back and then begs on the floor to be let down again, crying? I kinda want something like that LOL (a little bit more complicated than that, but the vibe is the same).

I love the idea of Adam finally getting what he wants, and then realizing what he wanted.... isn't what he wants at all. I want him to get a taste of Heaven again, that thing that he worked SO. HARD. for, that he spent YEARS in that HELLHOLE to be let back in this place and...! And it feels empty, it feels hollow, the happiness he had started to build in Hell meant so much more to him now than whatever commodities Heaven could offer him. Why couldn't people in Hell and Heaven see each other? why couldn't they visit? Why was he so miserable now when a couple years ago this was all he wanted? And then I need him to actually do something stupid, or dramatic, or something equally meaningful to actually go back to Hell with Lucifer and his new family

[ryuichirou]

So we know what his lovers do that drives Idia crazy (in a good way). How about the inverse, what does Idia do that drives them crazy?

You know what, Anon, my first instinct was to start talking about how Idia deliberately drives Azul nuts sometimes, and even you saying “in a good way” didn’t stop my train of thought. Yes, it is good that Azul gets pissed off at Idia! Idia is having fun, so it can’t be bad! lol

Jokes aside, this is actually a very good question. We did talk about what drives Idia crazy the most about his partners, so let’s think about it in reverse… I’ll only talk about our main boys, of course.

Azul – aside from situations when Idia teases the fuck out of him and Azul gets riled up because he wants to spank his ass lol I think Azul really enjoys Idia’s “evil genius” moments. If they have the same goal, and Idia suggests something effective, smart and truly wicked, Azul feels such a strong and nasty urge to kiss him or do other stuff with/to him. Also, when Idia runs fingers through his own hair while he’s thinking on his next chess move whenever they play. Azul stares when it happens.

Ortho – wow, this one is surprisingly tough! I see two options: when Idia acts unexpectedly and doesn’t give Ortho prompts that he expects, thus making his AI work harder and get confused sometimes; while that doesn’t happen very often, when it does happen, Ortho gets frustrated because of this misunderstanding and defaults to physical interaction if words don’t work lol But the second option is that sometimes Ortho just gets way too playful, and if Idia allows and enables it, Ortho gets so happy about it that he gets carried away. What I’m saying is that when Idia spoils him and allows him to do some new previously “forbidden” things, this is when Ortho goes insane (in a good way).

Lilia – when he sees the hesitation and hope in Idia’s eyes and knows that he really wants to say or do something, but just can’t. A lot of times he knows exactly what Idia wants, but acts oblivious because he wants to see this inner conflict in Idia’s eyes. The moment this adorable little sparkle of hope disappears and Idia looks disappointed in himself and starts avoiding Lilia’s eyes, this is when it’s Lilia’s cue to jump him. It’s like cuteness aggression lol Of course, he also loves it when Idia makes cute sounds, stutters or shakes after getting spooked by him.

Floyd – both of the Tweels love it when they get to chase Idia, or rather, it does drive them crazy. It teases something in them, I guess that’s just their instincts. But also, individually, Floyd really loves it when Idia gets fired up while playing videogames. He just finds this kind of Idia very unusual and exciting… also, he becomes so oblivious to his surroundings when he’s winning in a game, that it’s very easy for Floyd to bite him and hear him squeal. So funny~

Jade – whenever Idia purses his lips and gulps audibly, with his Adam’s apple jerking nervously. Also, whenever Idia tries to stay still, as if he is waiting for the predator to go away, and his eyes start to get teary a little bit. Idia’s shoulders also shake very cutely, and Jade could almost hear his heart going insane. Whenever it happens when they are alone together, Jade really wants to run the tip of his tongue right under Idia’s eyes to collect the tears, but at the same time eat him alive.

Sebek – whenever they argue, it does get Sebek angry and annoyed, but also there are some sparks of arousal that he feels when things get very heated, so I can’t ignore that lol But also, I think Sebek would get genuinely enamoured while watching Idia building something. It’s like he instantly forgets how easy it is for Idia to get him super mad because what he sees right now is… beautiful. Whenever Idia gets tired and stretches while moaning quietly though, Sebek blushes for some reason and looks elsewhere.

[quinngefail]

Been thinking more about Apprentice Adam and/or Lawrence Stuff and why it just doesn't really grab me. So I now have more articulated thoughts lol:

IT'S JUST... I'm far more drawn to this story about two people from very different walks of life being thrust into this horrible situation, and coming out of it with this intense bond + relationship that they wouldn't have ever had otherwise

And just exploring how they navigate their personal wounds + these feelings for one another, feelings that just will not dissipate. How they deal with their trauma as individuals, and how they come to help one another through it. How they move past the horrible shit they endured. Seeing them shakily become closer and closer, and more and more vulnerable with one another. Coz again it's the whole you're the only person in the world who can ever truly understand what we went through together-

Also I may be a sap. But I just like my romance and happy endings, y’know... Especially with characters I deeply care about orz

I COULD RAMBLE MORE BUT THAT'S THE GIST OF IT. They are just., everything to me...,.,,

[twost3ps]

Cassiel is my favorite out of the angel squad. Love him with short hair, love the fact he's got a southern accent, love the body builder build and the mustache, love everything about him. Absolute unit of an angel. Amazing 👏 spectacular 👏 delicious. Would love to know more about him and see more art work of him.

Yaaayyyy!! I’m happy you love the new addition to the family!! His design was on a whim but I loved it a lot so ayyaya

Anyways here is some art for youuu I'm still getting used to drawing him ngl

And some more facts on him

Cass is not a seraphim nor his he a brother of the archangels. In a way he his the equivalent of a younger cousin to the archangels and is a power angel like Azrael. (Also to clarify if things get confusing ik there are virtue angels but his title as a virtue in this sense is an angel that goes againt an opposing sin while he is also a power which is the type of angel he is) Under Michael they are also called destroyer angels which are easily recognized with their black hair.

His favorite hobby is flying (crazy ik) but rather than trying for speed or anything he likes to casually fly throughout heaven as a way to cool himself down. Be likes doing cool flying tricks

Cass keeps a stoic face a lot of the time but when he gets into private he let's his emotions out. Embarrassment and getting flustered are the hardest to control when he's in private

Cass is one of those characters here most of the time his eyebrows obscure his eyes sometimes. The more I draw him the more you're likely to see it.

Cass wears his uniform basically 24/7. It's this heavenly aviator uniform. He likes the jumpsuit feel of it

He's a bit of a sap if you get to him and is generally one for pda. Not in a Gabe way where he'd go for it but Cass will sometimes, if he feels the situation is right enough, puts a hand on a shoulder or on an arm. Sometimes a hug but that's if he feels like its fine. If anyone does ask tho he's on it and gives a good warm hugs

Cass does mostly rock that short hairstyle (sorry for the long hair likes if there is any) but it's the most logical when flying you don't want that hair in your face, especially if you're going to fly at top speeds

A little shipping stuff or not, idk. When Adam got up to heaven, Cass was the one to teach him to fly and care for his wings. Cass is a stickler for wing care and has the most well-groomed wings amongst the virtues. Cass really does like adams wings- they're big and gold, meaning they need a lot of extra time and care. Cass was very careful with Adam when he taught him how to fly always made sure adam stretched his wings out properly and had them preened and ready for flying. Adams got big oversized wings so yk gotta be safe. Gabe also volunteered to teach with them cuz he flies a lot as well but when he almost threw Adam in the air to "test the waters" cas immediately (and respectively) banned him from teaching

Cass likes to write in his private time, that's how he settles his emotions. Also he writes poetry lol

Again Cass has a lot of self control and holds back a lot. However while a good thing is is also bad because he holds back on getting stuff that he wants such as pda or talking. Cass is in a way, a shy guy so please be gentle with him lol

Paired with his southern accent, yes Cass does like country music o3o

As stated before, not all the stuff on the previous post is set in stone, so I'm considering changing his rep animal into a dragon. Maybe.again, not a promise

[simmyfrobby]

idk if you listened to the spdn episode from yesterday but you're the only hockeyblr i know listens to them, and i just wanted to say to someone how pleasantly surprised i was to hear adam considering babcock's long lasting impact on the leafs, even if he hasn't been the coach for a long time. babcock was so awful to marner in particular (but not just him ofc) and specifically put that young team in embarrassing situations to assert his dominance and intellect and get one over on his superiors in the organization (particularly dubas who was much younger than him), and that fucks with people way more than people give credence to. and i think many leafs fans don't give enough credit to being 19 and in one of the most intensely public and scrutinized positions in your sport, and your coach tries to embarrass you to the vets on your team etc and how that might shape the core of your team's identity and vibe for a long time. i know you sometimes roll your eyes at adam too lol so i was like double happy to hear him being so holistic in his analysis

haha yes ive taken a firmly anti adam stance on this blog & i stand by it.

w that said i listened to the ep this morning & though the way they talked about it was quite nuanced & good. especially the part where they were like. that’s a fucked up way to treat a rookie. a 19 year old. A CHILD. im always fascinated by bad-babcock stories so i might buy the nazem kadri book they talked about. toxic workplaces are like joy catnip.