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astrophileous · 1 year ago

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DEREK TALKING TO LITTLE BUG WAS ADORABLE I'M NOT DOING WELL (i might just be touch starved idk)

also derek's definitely suuuper overprotective like even more when bug is pregnant, it's Bad

You're touch-starved, I'm touch-starved, we're all touch-starved boo. Isn't that why we're here fantasizing about fictional men :")

but omg yeah yeah yeah I see your vision. I think bcs of what happened to her, the doctor would recommend Extra Maternity Care for Bug. like Derek would've already been bad if it was a normal pregnancy, but as soon as he heard the word "risky" from the doctor's mouth, it was as if all sense flew out of the window

btw this turned out to be more emotional than I planned KJKJAASSJ I'M SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Derek's voice boomed in the middle of the HQ bullpen, attracting the attentions of fellow agents nearby including those of your team who were still in the office.

You rotated your head left and right, searching for the object of Derek's sudden vexation, only to realize a few seconds later that his eyes had been staring straight at you.

"You're talking to me?"

Instead of answering, Derek marched the few feet of distance separating you from him. "What are you doing, Bug?"

You raised your eyebrows in genuine confusion. "Um, strapping my gun to its holster?"

"You're not going out there."

"Excuse me?"

It had been a few weeks since the whole fiasco of your abduction. After a few days of staying in the hospital and a couple more weeks of bedrest, your doctor had finally cleared you back for duty. You were beginning to get antsy about going back to work, but your doctor's note was clear: you needed to take it easy once you were back, considering that the rough start to your pregnancy meant more risks looming overhead.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but for the sake of your baby, you swallowed the hard pill without a fight. Hotch couldn't be more understanding when you explained what was going on to him. He promised you that you could sit out any strenuous and potentially harming activities during the course of any investigation that might have fallen on the BAU's lap. Your fellow teammates were just as considerate, vowing to cover your ass at any instance you might need.

All and all, everyone around you was pretty clear-headed about the whole situation.

Except for Derek.

Since your last doctor visit, Derek had been driving you nuts with his overprotective streak. It was adorable, at first. The fact that he was extremely worried something might happen to you and the baby that he kept refusing to leave your side even when you were only stepping out to grab the mail or pay for takeout. But then, it got worse.

While his overprotectiveness seemed to have infiltrated every aspect of your life, it previously never affected your job at any capacity. Until now. You were seething internally over the fact that Derek had chosen to do this--to speak to you like this--at your place of work, where your coworkers could listen in to every word exchanged between the two of you.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you took a deep breath to press down the frustration, before your leveled voice spoke, "It's just a routine questioning, Derek. I'll be fine."

"You're not going out on the field, Bug."

"Derek." His name sounded like a threat through your teeth. "I'm not going out there to see a suspect, or to insert myself in a dangerous situation. Emily and I are just going to take a quick drive down to Woodbridge to interview the victim's family. Nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah, Morgan," Emily's voice chimed in from somewhere to your left. "It's gonna be fine. It's just routine questioning. I'm sure we can ma--"

Emily stopped talking and threw her hands in surrender once she noticed the daggers in Derek's eyes. You watched as she scurried off, as far away from the two of you as possible.

"You promised you'll take it easy," Derek said.

"I am taking it easy! I told you, it's just a normal questioning!"

Your own anger was threatening to burst by this point. Before one or the two of you could say something further--something that would warrant a lengthy call from the HR department--Derek tugged you towards the vacant pantry in the corner. Once inside, he closed the door behind him to shut out the rest of the floor from your private conversation.

"Do you realize how insane you've been acting?" Your voice dripped with anger. "I know you're worried, I get it. I appreciate it. But jeez, Derek, you aren't letting me breathe here. I can't do anything without you lurking around my fucking neck!"

The last echo of your voice dissipated into thin air, and yet, Derek still seemed to be rooted in the same spot he had been standing on since the two of you entered this pantry. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before that intense gaze was back to lighting fire on your skin.

"Do you know you were dead?"

"What?"

"In that basement. You were dead when I found you."

The frown between your eyebrows cleared once you realized Derek was talking about the abduction.

He had been refusing to talk about that ever since you came back home.

"I couldn't find a pulse when I got to you. I was the one who did the chest compressions before the paramedics arrived. I saw the heart monitor, Bug. You flatlined." Derek took a large step forward. "You were dead, and I held you in my arms. So forgive me if you think I'm being crazy with all of this, but the sight of you not breathing isn't exactly something I wanna see twice in my life."

The weight of Derek's admission settled heavily in the center of the room. Little by little, the ice that had hardened inside your chest was starting to melt. You looked deeper into Derek's unrelenting gaze, realizing that beneath the irrational protectiveness actually lay a justifiable fear he was trying to hide.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Derek," you offered sincerely. "But you can't keep me on a leash just because you're scared of hypothetical scenarios. The past is just that: the past. I'm safe now. Me and the baby are safe and we're here with you."

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't want to lose you."

"And you won't. But you will drive me away if you keep this up," you told him. "Tell you what, I'll sit this one out for now. Just don't expect much from me for next time, yeah?"

"Thank you," Derek breathed out in relief. He closed the few feet of distance between the two of you in two long strides before securing you in his arms, pressing a grateful kiss to your hairline. "Thank you."

"Remember, this is a two-way street, Mister," you said as you looked straight into his eyes. "I'm expecting compromises to be made."

Derek flashed you a charming grin before answering, "Yes, ma'am."

When he pulled you in for a kiss, it was as if every remaining frustration in your bones dissolved into thin air.

The next few weeks managed to transpire in a mutual compromise. You tried to appease Derek's mind by choosing your responsibilities accordingly, while Derek tried reining in his protective instinct, even if miserably.

Still, even with the intensity lessened, sometimes Derek's antics were just too outrageous to excuse.

"Derek, you know this is absolute crazy, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek shrugged before adjusting the hold he had around your body.

It was the day of the earthquake drill at Quantico. Just thirty minutes prior, everyone in the building had been directed to evacuate from the emergency exit in a single file. Though it did explain the reason why you found yourself stuck in the middle of a barely moving line on the staircase, it didn't, however, explain the reason why you found yourself being carried in Derek's arms, bridal style.

"This is completely ridiculous," you grumbled once the line started moving again. "Everyone is staring."

"That's just 'cause you're pretty, Bug."

A few steps down, you could see JJ and Spencer stealing glances towards where you and Derek were standing. Your pleading eyes caught JJ's at one point, but the blonde woman only raised her thumbs up before the moving line made her disappear from view.

"You do know I'm still able to support myself on my own two feet, right?"

"Of course I do, Bug," Derek replied. "But why would you have to when I'm strong enough to carry you?"

Derek's answer made you groan in annoyance. A series of laughter from above compelled you to look up at the source, seeing two women whispering among themselves while openly pointing at your direction. You buried your face in the column of Derek's neck to escape their scrutiny, feeling the embarrassment traveled up your neck in a flaming red heat.

You were so never going to live this down.

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 3 months ago

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Moth to the Flame Pt. 2 | Dr. Crane x Reader

summary: Dr. Jonathan Crane isn't the only 'crazy' in Gotham City and he's about to meet his match. When confronted with an unpleasant secret from his past, he's skeptical to trust the strange young woman who calls herself Victoria Vale, the rightful heiress to Arkham Asylum (and maybe his downfall).

warnings: mentions of attempted suic*de and an insanity plea (follows the plot from the movie Batman Begins).

A/N: I really enjoy using the original DC comic lore so if you've been following me for a while, you'll recognize the backstories in this but I've tried to make a completely different plot line.

Choke- I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME 🎶

A few days pass but they feel like weeks. You’re expecting Dr. Jonathan Crane at the precinct to conduct Falcone’s psychological examination, and shift impatiently in your seat. You check your watch routinely, having assumed Crane would be a very punctual person and arrive right at 4:00. And you’re right.

Crane saunters down the hallway like a black cat, his dark hair combed back against his head and his glasses perched perfectly on his button-like nose. You stand as you see him, pushing your chair back from your desk. You step out to meet him, keeping one hand securely on your hip to ensure your gun stays there and doesn’t get picked up by this handsome criminal mind. Dr. Crane smirks softly when he sees you and gives you a curt nod.

“Detective Vale,” he greets you and sticks out his hand. You give a professional nod back and shake his offered hand, surprised to find it so warm.

“Dr. Crane, thank you for coming on such short notice. One of the men we have detained in the precinct attempted last night, I’m sure you understand that we have to follow protocol- get him checked out before his trial in case there’s a more serious issue here.” You explain, knowing Crane can see right through you and your speech (just a matter of routine).

“I’m always… happy,” he takes a breath, “to help law enforcement when I can.” The smile he gives is false, a lie, but one that you share. You nod and open your mouth to speak again when you hear Rachel Dawes’ voice splinter the conversation.

“What’s he doing here?” Dawes stands beside you, crossing her arms over her chest in her crisp suit. You watch Crane suppress a scowl as he sees Dawes appear in front of him in her annoyingly professional suit. Though he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to having a thing for powerful women.

“Ah, Miss Dawes. To what do I owe this… pleasure?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Dawes retorts, her nose scrunched in distaste.

“Dr. Crane is conducting a psychological examination on Falcone for the department,” you turn to Dawes, putting your hands casually into the pockets of your pants.

“Is he? Then perhaps he can also explain why so many of Falcone’s men end up in Arkham because of his diagnosis.”

Crane holds back a sigh and gives his best charming smile. “Miss Dawes, I’m simply giving professional diagnoses and my most honest clinical opinions about each of Falcone’s men. They end up in Arkham because that is where they belong. That’s hardly my fault, if criminals have a certain association with the insane.” Dawes begins to level a threat at Crane when you cut in.

“Rachel, we’re going to get him on this one, I promise you. I’m going to oversee the examination with Dr. Crane.” You speak softly to Rachel, meeting her dark brown eyes.

“Well I’m glad you're overseeing it, some people need it,” she glances over at Crane who looks back without speaking. You look between them before clearing your throat softly.

“Let me know what the results are, Victoria. The judge wants to meet with Falcone on Monday,” Dawes directs her words to you and then turns to Crane again. “Falcone has no history of psychiatric problems. He got a hold of a blade and claims he wanted to hurt himself. I think he’s faking it.”

Crane nods once, still cool and clinical despite the unspoken accusations launched at him. “We’ll see.”

Dawes and Crane scowl at each other before you nod once again and gesture down the hallway.

“I’ll be there to watch, Rachel, and I’ll let you know what the decision is. We all want a conviction as much as you do.” Your words sound truthful and sincere. Rachel’s pager buzzes and she looks down at it, frowning. She turns and nods at you in thanks before walking away, her black stiletto heels clicking angrily. You look again at Crane whose eyes are already on you, examining you silently.

“Very interesting…” he says coolly. You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms over your chest.

“How’s that?”

“It’s interesting how you interact with her. You deal with her so casually.”

“I have many talents,” you answer distractedly and turn down the hallway, beckoning him to follow, “shall we?”

“Lead the way, Miss Vale.” His voice feels close to your neck, prickly and hot like a hand. You close your eyes for a moment and sigh, allowing yourself to dissolve in the riptide of his voice. Then you’re back, you glance around to make sure that no one has seen your “friendly” interaction and continue walking, your steps wide apart and fast. Crane follows easily behind, his gaze unfazed and silent. You stop in front of one of the soundproof interrogation rooms in the precinct where Falcone has already been placed. You step inside, Crane just behind you, and close the door, locking it and pulling the blinds.

Falcone is sitting at the table with his wrists cuffed, though there are thick bandages between the steel and his skin. He has a cigarette placed between his purplish mouth that reeks of sour milk. He raises a bushy eyebrow when he sees Crane and looks between you, unimpressed.

“Geez doc, I gotta get help. The voices… blah blah blah,” Falcone looks around for a lighter and then turns his eyes up to Crane’s. “Got a light?”

Crane’s jaw clenches and he sighs deeply through his nose before he pulls the lighter from his breast pocket. He flips open the cap with his thumb in one swift movement and leans over the table to light Falcone’s cigarette. You watch as this moment passes between the men, your eyes following the silver lighter as it returns to Crane’s pocket. When Falcone leans back in his chair, his cigarette lit, that’s when Crane finally speaks.

“Now Mr. Falcone, I’m going to ask you a few questions. Answer… honestly,” Crane clears his throat and sits at the table, opening a file folder of Falcone’s medical records.

“Sure, great,” Falcone mutters and looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Are you staying? Is she gonna stay?” He turns back to Crane who looks up at him, frowning.

You regard Falcone coolly and nod once. “I’m here to observe.”

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to get started, Mr. Falcone,” Crane cuts in, his patience thinning quickly. Falcone grumbles and nods, waving his chained hands to prompt Crane to continue. Crane takes another file from his briefcase and opens it on the table. You can sense Falcone starting to get irritated, Crane’s lips pull into a small smile.

“I was just looking into your medical record. You’ve got a bit of a history with drug use, don’t you, Mister Falcone?”

Falcone looks over at you for help, confused by Crane’s line of questioning. You shrug and remain silent, your arms crossed over your chest. Falcone thinks for a moment before answering.

“Oh… yeah. Meds and stuff.”

“And stuff? In your file it says that you’re taking a prescription for a severe anxiety disorder. Is that true?” Crane raises an eyebrow, a plan brewing behind his blue eyes. One that neither you nor Falcone can predict.

“Say, doc, what kind of question is that? You’re supposed to declare me insane and get me out of here. We had a deal.” Falcone’s tone is low and sounds slightly scared but he tries not to let it show.

Crane pauses for a moment, the statement hangs in the air like a cloud of smoke. You look between Crane and Falcone, your curiosity piqued. Crane maintains a clinical tone as he continues slowly as if he were talking to a child, “I know we had a deal, Mr. Falcone. Our deal was that I’d keep you out of jail, not out of my line of questioning…” Crane smiles, his heart beats faster with adrenaline, “I’m curious. Are you taking any anxiety medication?”

“Sure, of course…” Falcone stutters and furrows his eyebrows. “I take all that stuff. I’m crazy…”

You can feel the tension in the room build, and it sets your teeth on edge. You try to keep your focus on Falcone but the dull throbbing between your legs reverberates whenever Crane speaks. He reaches into his briefcase and removes a vial containing one singular pill.

“This is an anti-anxiety pill. Quite powerful, actually. Do you know the name of this medication, Mr. Falcone?”

Falcone’s face is a bright red now and he strains against his handcuffs. You regard Crane curiously, asking yourself why he’s asking all these strange questions. Why not just declare him insane and let that be the end of it? Crane feels a deep sense of satisfaction as he watches Falcone struggle, and you notice it evidently on his face and the way he holds his body, taut like a coiled wire.

“Well? I asked you a question, I do expect an answer. I’m not going to declare you insane until I know for certain that you’re not faking. So, what is the name of this anti-anxiety medication?”

"I... I don't know! Why are you asking me all of these questions? Just declare me insane already!” Falcone lowers his voice, “You know damn well I don't take any of that..."

Crane sighs deeply and puts the vial back into his briefcase. He clasps his hands together, pleased. He smiles menacingly and lowers his voice too.

“Here’s the thing, Mr. Falcone- that pill I was holding? It’s not anti-anxiety medication…”

When he says that you turn, your brow furrows. Where is he going with this? Falcone rolls his eyes and stubs out his cigarette angrily.

“You see, this medication isn’t used to treat anxiety. This medication is a powerful hallucinogenic, an extremely potent, mind-altering drug. It’s my most recent concoction, a fear toxin.”

Falcone freezes and narrows his eyes at Crane. You feel yourself match Crane’s smile, a knowing excitement creeps into your body, your fingers flex. When he sees Falcone start to struggle even more, Crane’s smile widens. Falcone goes white and begins to panic, resorting to a feeble attempt at blackmail.

"I'll tell everyone that I was working for you. I'll testify. I don't know what kind of drug you had us moving but I know it was something dangerous!”

Crane lets out a small, humorless laugh and leans back in the thin plastic chair, his eyes never leaving Falcone.

“How? You don’t know anything. And even if you did, who would believe you? You’re a delusional psychotic criminal with hallucinations. No one’s going to believe you if you tell them you’ve been moving drugs for me.”

“Get me away from this madman! I’m not fucking crazy!” Falcone shouts at you, pulling at his cuffs. You stare back, a small smirk pulling at your lips.

“Not yet, but you will be. You see, if you want people to believe that you’re crazy, wouldn’t it just be easier to be crazy?”

“What-what are you implying?” Falcone tries to push away from the table but the chains binding his feet prevent him from making it very far. Crane smiles and looks at you, his gaze giving you permission to contribute.

“Mr. Falcone, I’d suggest that you shut your mouth before you say anything else you’ll regret. You’re in no position to make threats here.” You lean forward, your palms fisted on the table. Falcone looks between you and nods slowly, a slimy smile appearing slowly on his lips.

“Oh, I see. You’re working together, aren’t you?” Falcone laughs.

Crane’s smile drops and he turns back to Falcone, his steel gaze sharp enough to slice right through the mobster.

“It seems we’ve reached an impasse, Detective Vale.” Crane’s voice is rougher now, more sadistic. Your whole body shivers, your cunt throbs with morbid excitement.

“Might I make a suggestion, Dr. Crane?” You cross your arms over your chest and rock back and forth on your heels. Crane looks you up and down briefly, discreetly. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he likes how your body looks in your dark slacks and a green blouse.

Don’t get too distracted, Crane.

Crane’s struggling to control his breathing as he watches you, his eyes lingering on the way your body moves. He tears his gaze away from you as he answers.

“A suggestion? And what might that be, Detective Vale?”

“Well if he isn't going to be able to convince anyone that he's as 'crazy' as he says he is, maybe we should help him out. Make it more believable…” You shrug, your voice light and misleading. Falcone looks between you, his eyes wide as he tries to understand what you mean. Perspiration dots his forehead but he doesn’t wipe it away.

Crane raises an eyebrow at your proposal but his eyes remain on Falcone, shaking in the seat across the table from him. There’s a dangerous tone in his voice as he murmurs.

“And how exactly do you propose we do that?”

“Don't you have anything else in that briefcase of yours? Maybe something that could make him a little more... convincing?” You tilt your head towards the open briefcase, your eyes saying more than your words. Crane looks over at you, he swallows and nods, another soft smile on his face. He glances down at his briefcase and a slight shiver of excitement passes through him. Crane glances over at Falcone and feels a cruel grin spread across his face as he realizes what you’re implying.

It’s like you’ve given him permission. You don’t need to tell him twice. Crane removes his glasses with a sigh and folds them neatly on the table beside him. Falcone watches him warily, his eyes dropping to the glasses then back up to Crane.

“As a matter of fact, I do have something else that would… help.” He slowly reaches into the briefcase and pulls out the burlap mask, his hands holding it with an almost reverent excitement. “Would you like to see my mask?”

Falcone doesn't even respond. He's gone silent and dumb with fear. In his lack of words, You smile kindly at the man, giving him a false sense of safety.

“He uses it for his experiments, you know. It's probably not very scary to someone like you but to the crazies in Arkham… they can't stand it,” you trail off, backing away in preparation for whatever the hell Crane is about to do.

Crane’s voice remains low as he leans forward, the mask still gripped in his fist.

“But for you, Falcone? This isn’t just something to fear. For you… it’s going to be a nightmare.”Falcone struggles in his plastic seat, the chains shaking and clattering against each other as he tries to escape. You release a euphoric sigh as Crane pulls on the mask and gestures to the front of its burlap facade.

His voice is no longer gentle, no longer friendly, no longer even remotely human as he continues to speak, “You’re going to spend the rest of your life in Arkham, Falcone. That’s a promise.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth his finger presses a button inside his briefcase, releasing a narrow cloud of fear toxin. It hits Falcone squarely in the face, his eyes bulge and lose their focus as some horrible nightmare overcomes him. Crane’s mask morphs into a real scarecrow, something uncanny and deranged. Falcone screams and Crane laughs, rising up from his seat and letting his palms rest on the table.

“I did warn you, didn’t I, Falcone?”

His voice is barely audible over Falcone’s frantic screams. Crane rips off his mask, smiling contently. His hair is tousled and crazy about his head, your thighs throb. He looks over at you and you nod back, only allowing him a smirk.

“He certainly isn't going to testify now. Dawes won't be able to argue with you either.” He looks more psychotic without the silver glasses that you’re so familiar with seeing. There’s almost a ring of red in his eyes. “Impressive, Dr. Crane.”

Crane tosses the mask aside and runs a hand through his hair as he tries to catch his breath. His face is flushed with excitement and adrenaline, and he can’t help but smile wider at you, the adrenaline making him bold.

“Thank you, Miss Vale,” he chuckles and shakes his head, looking back at Falcone, “That went well, didn’t it?”

You both look back at the screaming Falcone, smiles on your faces. A match made in hell, you and him.

“I'd stay and savor this moment with you but people will get suspicious. I'll go and arrange for his transfer to Arkham but first I need you to tell me that he's not faking it and that we need to move him to a secure wing in Arkham for treatment. I just need to hear you say it, legality,” you wave your hand about your face briefly. Crane raises a surprised brow.

“You pick and choose the laws you follow now? How interesting,” Crane says in a soft sarcastic manner, his eyes still wide with pleasure.

“Technically you are the expert and we brought you in here to diagnose Falcone…” you roll your eyes playfully.

“Fine,” he takes a deep breath which is more attractive than you’d like to admit, “No, he’s definitely not faking. I believe he’s actively having a psychotic episode and will be in no position to testify. I recommend moving him to a secure wing at Arkham Asylum immediately. He’s a danger to himself and others.”

“Thank you, Dr. Crane,” you smile and turn towards the door.

“So what? I do this favor for you, Miss Vale and then you leave me alone with the deranged?” Crane chuckles and puts on his glasses, looking you up and down. Your hand is on the doorknob but you turn and regard him, a sly smile on your face.

“I thought you liked being around the deranged…”

Crane raises an eyebrow back and turns his back on Falcone who continues to scream in the background. Crane’s nice dark gray suit shifts as he shifts.

“And what does that mean for you?”

“You’re the psychologist, not me,” you whisper back and open the door. The door closes sharply behind you but not before Falcone’s screams can be heard echoing down the hallway. You pull an officer aside.

“Tell Prosecutor Rachel Dawes that Falcone needs to be moved to Arckham. It’s true, he’s insane too. He’ll need to be moved immediately, he’s already becoming violent. Dr. Crane is completing the paperwork and I’ll see to the transfer myself.”

…

It is late at night when you finally finish Falcone’s transfer. You had shed your quilted jacket days before because Gotham City was in the middle of a miniature heat-spike after weeks of cold, damp weather. You check your watch and look off into the city skyline, thinking. You had followed Crane for weeks before you decided to speak to him, so you know his schedule just as well as your own. He would be in his lab at the university, working on his own projects in the secrecy of the night. His students would never know what their strange professor was up to. You make a rash decision and change directions, your feet taking you a few blocks to the left, to Gotham University.

Gotham University was not the type of institution that most students strive for but it still offered a good education for those who could pay. The buildings on campus were all dark and gothic, like orphanages set against a city scene. Students walking home from the library walk past you, speaking softly to one another. Some mention Professor Crane, some don’t.

The science building is silent and empty when you break in, using the door with the broken sensor (your doing). You find Crane’s lab on the third floor, the only source of light in the dark hallway. You go to the door and open it slowly, silently. Crane has his back to you as he makes notes in a notebook with a red pen. He’s wearing a white lab coat that nearly makes his shoulders look broader, stronger. You stand by the door, watching, and waiting to see how long it takes until he notices you’re there. You pull the string that closes the blinds with a soft snap.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” Crane's voice rises from the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widen only slightly in surprise, but then you smile and approach his lab table slowly, eyeing him up and down. His gray-blue eyes remain fixed on his work.

“Did I frighten you?”

“Oh no, I’m not scared of anything, remember?” Crane retorts with a distracted smirk as he finishes writing a line in his notes. When he finishes he finally turns and leans against the lab table, looking you up and down. “So, what are you doing here, Miss Vale? Why’d you close the blinds?” His smirk widens, the fact that you’re both completely alone excites him. He nearly shivers.

“No one can know that I was here. I'm sure Dawes is already suspicious of me because I 'oversaw' your evaluation and approved the transfer when the three of us all know he was fine when we walked into the examination room the first time.” You smile and mirror his posture.

“Mmm yes, I’m sure Dawes has already had a few choice words with you,” Crane nods and looks up, remembering the exchange the three of you had earlier at the precinct: two smart, powerful women in one room, amazing.

“I can handle her, don’t worry.”

Crane looks back at you and shakes his head, “Oh I don’t doubt it. You’re a highly intelligent woman, I’m sure Dawes doesn’t pose much of a problem for you.”

You smile, flattered though you don’t need Crane to tell you what you already know. You ignore the way Crane’s eyes continue to trace the length of your body, imagining what he’d find beneath your blouse…

“No, but I'm concerned that she'll prove to be a bigger problem the more she finds out. Which is why I'm in charge of the case... or at least until she kicks me off. I'll make sure she doesn't learn too much about the 'operation' you're running here. But I need something from you first.”

“And what do you need from me, Miss Vale?” Crane’s voice is low, husky, and short, like the response was second nature.

You look him up and down, a smile growing on your lips. You can tell that he wants you and it's exhilarating to be wanted by such an attractive man... but first, you need information from him. It must be so frustrating for him but hey, that's life. You walk around the lab table and put your hands over his, gripping the edge of the table. You lean forward only slightly, leaving some distance between your bodies.

“Tell me about your plans for Gotham, Crane.”

His jaw clenches but he keeps his voice calm, composed, and his eyes evade yours. “What do you want to know?”

“If I'm going to be an equal partner in this, I need to know what you've been doing with Falcone and his men.” You look down at his lips as you speak.

Crane’s breathing gets heavier, more ragged. His eyes are still avoiding yours, but he knows exactly where your gaze is fixated.

“I know that Falcone has been moving shipments of your fear toxin into Arkham and I noticed that the military’s microwave emitter happened to go missing recently. Did you have anything to do with that, Crane?”

Crane can smell your pheromones like perfume and he stifles a frustrated sigh. He rolls his eyes and shrugs slowly.

“Perhaps.”

“You could have made Falcone take the fear toxin pills you had in the box but you didn’t. You used a different form, gas. The microwave emitter vaporizes water… Your fear toxin doesn’t work in water, does it? It’s water soluble. It needs to be in a gas or powder form, correct?”

“You’re clever, pet.” Crane smirks and moves his hands away from yours to cross against his chest. “But the pill I showed to Falcone was just a sugar pill, a placebo. Here’s a little lesson in Psychology: the body’s sense of smell is the fastest to recalibrate. By putting the toxin into gas form, the subject inhales it and reacts much faster. It’s all about speed. Water washes the toxin out.”

“So the microwave emitter?” You prompt him to continue.

“Yes, you’re right. If it works, it will dry up the main water line on the island, then I can release the toxin into the air… Every man, woman, and child in Gotham city would be paralyzed with fear.”

You let your lips inch closer, exhaling against his lips. Crane almost believes that you’ll kiss him until you pull away at the last moment and smirk.

“I’ve read everything you’ve ever written about the chemical components of fear. I’ve tried recreating your ‘recipes’,” you look back at the experiments on the table, “but I can’t get the same results. There’s something important missing from your original research isn’t there? What’s the final ingredient? It has to be exotic, something you could only recently get access to. Maybe you met someone with connections. Someone who also read your research and offered to fund your project….”

Crane is still recovering from your little trick and sighs tightly, impatiently. He looks up at the ceiling, the fluorescent lighting reflecting off of his glasses. “Is that right?”

You hum once in confirmation and reach your hand out beside his left arm, brushing his sleeve. He keeps his gaze averted, still pissed that you teased him. While he pouts, you pick up a small petri dish from the lab table. A bright blue flower is preserved inside.

“Blue poppies?”

Crane raises an eyebrow, finally looking down at you. He wets his lips and sighs, rearranging his arms to rest over his chest.

“You can recognize obscure botanicals now?” He nearly snaps. You flick your eyes up to his, meeting his icy gaze.

“That was a lucky guess.” You shrug and smile, “I’ve only read about these. So how did you get these? Who are you working for?”

Crane’s body reacts strangely to your smile, his navel warms. Your smile is so wrong… he loves it. He’s still slightly wary of your skills of deduction. He looks down at the petri dish for a moment, his mind trying to get back on track before he answers your question.

“I came into contact with someone who has strong connections. He’s agreed to fund my research and supply me with all the necessary equipment and ingredients.”

“Who?” You ask with a little less patience. Crane enjoys witnessing one of your rare moments of impatience and smiles, getting the upper-hand. Crane’s smile only widens as he leans back against the edge of the lab table again, his hands gripping the edge in a white-knuckled grip to keep his body in check.”

“Oh, I’m sure you know him… He’s quite the controversial figure….”

You lick your lips and you try to think. Surely it wasn’t Bruce Wayne- Crane would never work with him. Not Falcone. Not Gordon. What criminal would have both the money and power to operate something like this. Someone in the League of Shadows?

Crane’s eyes focus on the way your tongue moves across your lips. His mouth waters and he feels himself start to get hard. Instead of shying away, he steps closer, one of his hands fixing the bridge of his glasses.

“I’m honestly impressed you haven’t figured it out yet…” he tuts patronizingly.

“Are you going to tell me or are you going to make me figure it out myself?”

Crane laughs and shakes his head.

“Oh, this is just too good. You’re clearly bothered by the fact that you don’t have a name yet, Miss Vale.” He leans closer to you, his head tilting to the side as he continues in a low voice, “I wonder what you’ll do to get me to answer your question…”

You scowl, Crane getting on your nerves now. You push him back gently with a few clicks of your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “It hasn’t come to that yet, Crane.” You think for a few more moments and then something you read randomly comes to you, “the blue poppies grow in South Asia… Bhutan.”

“Ding ding ding, good girl. The blue poppies are indigenous to South Asia.”

“There’s only one man that I know of from Bhutan, he has a warrant out for his arrest in multiple different countries… Ra’s Al Ghul.”

Crane’s smile widens into a crazy grin. He claps softly and then takes the petri desk back from you. “Correct.”

“Does Al Ghul know you plan to lead Gotham when it’s all said and done?”

Crane nods slowly, looking away for a moment, his lips pursed. “He believes that my methods are necessary in order to bring about the change that the city needs. We already agreed that I will have control of Gotham when my plan is successful.”

“Then what’s in it for him, Crane?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

He steps even closer to you, until there are only a few inches of space left between you. His voice is lower now as he continues to speak to you.

“He gets to auction off the city back to the government, he gets the money, I get the power. Oh, I’ve also promised him a certain number of…let’s say…highly skilled individuals for his cause.”

“People you’ve locked up in Arkham?” You clarify, thinking it all through.

Crane nods and turns back to his research, his hand moving once again to the pen to write something down, putting his arousal to the side for a moment. Work will always come first to a man like Dr. Jonathan Crane.

“Do you trust him?”

Crane looks at you, surprised by your obvious question. He scoffs finally and turns back to face you. “No, I don’t trust him. But I see our partnership as a mutually beneficial arrangement. And honestly, I wouldn’t be able to continue my research at the same rate without his financial support and his access to the poppies.”

“Something about him gives me a bad feeling…” you mutter, crossing your arms beneath your breasts and tucking your head slightly to think.

Crane tilts his head to the side in curiosity, as if he’s studying you. “Why do you say that?”

You shake your head and furrow your brow. “I don’t have a reason exactly except that it’s just an instinct. Something tells me not to trust him.”

Crane clenches his jaw slightly and his eyes harden as he starts to take you seriously. He raps his fingers against his elbow and lowers his voice slightly, almost like he’s trying to be kind.

“When have your instincts ever been wrong, Miss Vale?”

You look up at him and shake your head finally, confident. “Never.”

Crane takes a final step closer to you, his chest nearly touching yours now. He can’t help himself from being drawn even closer to you, like a magnet. His voice is even lower than before as he looks down at your face.

“So, what do your instincts tell you now, Miss Vale?”

You look up into his eyes, heavy with desire. You feel the same desire, the same unquenchable and animalistic urges. Your noses are nearly touching as you exhale softly against his lips. You swallow and then speak.

“This...”

________________________________________________

@m0thh3ad @sl-newsie @strangeobsessed @cillamity

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irazai · 1 year ago

Text

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 I'LL BE YOUR GIRL, LET YOU TASTE IT : a ryuunosuke akutagawa fic.❞

❝ "he is such a daddy." . . . popular streamer 'a' once again makes the girls swoon over him by making out with his girlfriend on stream.❞ one hour ago.

🎀 LIGHTS, CAMERA AND STREAM! ; the hottest streamers and all about them and more at www.iradorroarchives.com..

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . please don't come at me with the "aku would never act like this!!" -- he will in my mind.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; streamer!aku, boyfriend!aku, mean!aku, fem!reader, nsfw, dry humping, riding, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, clit pinching, rough play, smacking, gagging due to fingers forced down the throat, manhandling, blood play, lip biting, making out on camera, semi public sex in a way?, uses of mommy and princess, slight degradation and that's all i remember lol.

ideal.

ideals.

what a load of bullshit.

till it isn't anymore.

ideas give birth to ideals and ideals, if taken the wrong way, leads to a world of narcissism. not always, but surely at times.

but ideas and ideals are also necessary and absolutely essential in the society to ensure that it works properly and in harmony.

because everyone who lives, thinks and when he thinks, he thinks no one else ever thought of what he did, which isn't entirely right or wrong.

and everyone had ideals and everyone has ideas and everyone likes someone else who fits their ideals and ideas and everyone wants to fit in the ideals and ideas of others.

perplexing? sure is.

not for the man sitting on his gaming chair though. he who had crafted a mask so tempting that it fits many people's 'ideals', his massive following is the proof of it and the stans on twitter who go berserk after any and every 'attractive' thing he does and makes edits, are the unshakeable evidence of his charms and charisma and also his ability to deceive others.

"what did you say?" it is not common of him to abandon his on going stream to look at you who stood behind his camera set up, an eyebrow cocked up as if to challenge you to utter those words again.

"i said you are a loser." you smile, playfulness written all over your face as you provoked your boyfriend by once again poking fun at his fascination and knowledge of criminal psychology and the overall criminal world and crimes.

"and what makes you think your opinion matters?" akutagawa scoffed with his eyebrow still raised yet with one glance at the screen to see the chat going wild over him as they found him hot, a cocky grin spread upon akutagawa's face and he leaned forwards to grab the packet of cigarettes and to pull a stick out.

"your opinion matters more then anyone else's to me so shouldn't mine matter more then anyone else's for you too?" you tilt your head as you watch him, observe him even, as he lights the end of the stick and push it between his lips.

why he smoked is something you'll never understand no matter how many cynical words he used to explain this addiction of his, saying how smoking isn't a reward but a punishment for when he thinks he hadn't performed as well as he expected.

you did not like it. so you take a step forwards slowly, not being afraid of coming in the camera frame as the man who has everyone whipped for his calm yet raspy voice and the way he so easily yet with a neutral base explained morbid and gruesome details of morbid cases . . . (and he also played horror games), is not someone who is very fond of pda yet despite so, he had made it obvious from day one that you were his girl with the way he stood so close to you or spoke directly next to your ear or close to your face, not wanting to be away from you or at a distance from you.

"why on earth do you crawl to those that are harmful for you?" you whisper for only him to hear as half of your upper body became visible on the camera frame when you planted your hand on the armrest and leaned in to take the cigarette stick from his hand, akutagawa only smiled as he let you, before he too, whispered,

"because i like it when you worry over me."

perhaps the words were simply just charming but you still couldn't stop the frown from etching onto your lips as you stared at him, unfazed.

you leaned up with a sigh and took a few steps away, after which only did you do your next step ; bringing the stick of pain closer to your lips to get a taste of what is in the nicotine in it that has your boyfriend coming back to it time and time again.

"hey, no. don't even think about it." akutagawa tsked as he watched you not reacting or taking his words seriously and with a sigh, he stood up from his chair to take big steps closer to you.

"come on, it's just one puff ryu. you do it all the time so why not let me try it too?" you tried not to grin as you took a step back to maintain the initial distance between you two but one glance up at akutagawa and it was clear that he didn't share the same amusement as you did right now.

"because i said so." akutagawa told, extending his arm to grasp your wrist to stop you from taking another step back and he pulled on it, pulling you and making you bump against his chest as he stared down at you, looking unamused.

"well then if i say so then you should also not smoke." you knew your attempt at negotiation is worthless yet you still tried but when the ends of the man's lips twitched before they curled up into a taunting smile, you knew it was hopeless to even think of using words against the one who weaves words like silk.

you watched with lips parted for a possible protest when akutagawa took the cigarette stick from your hand and brought it towards his lips again.

"and what if i refuse? are you gonna hit me princess?" akutagawa taunted in a low tone as if his voice isn't already enough to make the blood in your body pump excitedly. he even leaned down to look directly into your eyes and so, gulping your shyness, you nodded.

"i will. i'll punch you so hard that you'll be crying like a little boy." you warned or, well, tried to then why did you take a step back immediately?

simple because akutagawa had the ability to make you grow shy and flustured with even a glance so when he took a step towards you, you took one back on instinct as you felt joy twirl your heart in a dance.

"yeah? then why are you moving backwards princess? c'mere and punch me." akutagawa smirked as he said so and you shook your head, trying not to smile as you kept on walking backwards.

and as you did, your eyes went up and down to check the man stalking towards you, akutagawa isn't the most muscular and is more on the lean side yet he still had some assets, from his pale veiny hands to the soft abs hidden by the white short sleeved t-shirt and a leather jacket on top of it. black always did look the best when he wore it after all.

you kept on walking backwards and akutagawa kept on walking forwards ; the dance of the predator and the prey came to an end when the back of your knee bumped against his gaming chair and taking it as an opportunity, akutagawa took a big step forwards and pushed you on the chair with his knees.

you sat on the chair and your eyes immediately widened as the camera lens mocked you from your peripheral vision yet it was the least of your concerns when akutagawa leaned down, placing both his palms on the armrests, the cigarette between his lips as he smirked down at you like a predator who finally has its prey cornered.

if only one of you two could turn your heads to watch the chat going in a frenzy at this unexpected act, then maybe things wouldn't have escalated further but then again, perhaps akutagawa had been searching for this opening to make it clear to everyone that he belonged to someone.

"stop or i'll punch you for real ryu." you smiled up, leaning back on the chair as you bit your lip to suppress the smile which threatened to break on your face.

"go for it, let's see if you actually have the guts princess." akutagawa challenged but when he tried to move back to stand straight, your fingers found themselves clasping around his hand as you did not want him to end this moment.

so with a smile, you took on his challenge as you raised your knee up to hit him on his stomach, akutagawa stopped you immediately as his hand grasped your knee and he pulled it up to make your leg wrap around his waist, keeping you in that position.

"say you are sorry." akutagawa said but you only scoffed, tilting your head.

"or else what? you are going to cry to your mommy little boy?" your cockiness was thrown out of the window the moment akutagawa used his other hand to do the same for your other leg as he did with the first one before he twisted both of your bodies so that he would be the one sitting on the chair and you on his lap.

"who let that tongue of your's get so sharp?" akutagawa titled his head as he grasped your chin between his fingers, looking at the screen to make sure the chat doesn't find this too offending and once he saw the positive response overtaking the negative one, akutagawa smirked a bit to make this more memorable for his viewers before he raised his eyes from your lips to your cheeks to your nose to your eyes, completing a journey in which his eyes feasted upon you and your features.

you do not reply yet only smile as you let him toy with you, finding it hard to not smile when he turns your face to the sides using your chin before letting go of your chin but his assault on your face continues as he lightly smacked you -- perhaps the correct term would be 'gently patting' your cheek if we judge his action and the force he used to carry it.

"answer me." akutagawa mumbled but when he saw you bite your lip as you tried not to smile, he gently smacked your other cheek, entertained by your reactions.

"why should i?" your words hitted the right spots as akutagawa sighed, leaning down on the chair as he adjusted himself and you on his lap before he looked at the chat, smacking you again and making your head turn to the other side.

"wait who was gonna tell me he has a gf?"

"what a daddy. daddy daddy daddy."

"MANSPREADING?? HELLOEWTDD???"

"i moaned and something else purred."

"kiss kiss, fall in love."

"did he run out of topics? what's the use of bringing his gf to this stream?"

"bros desperation is showing."

"what are her socials? i am sure i can treat her better."

oh.

ideas are ideals yet ideas are dangerous if thought about without morality and resistance.

and akutagawa does not entertain any thoughts of this kind where people think they are free to imagine themselves with what akutagawa had already claimed as his.

for akutagawa is a possessive man, quite territorial in his nature.

his eyes narrow like how a tiger's does when it sees someone, a unwelcomed guest in its territory.

the tiger takes a step forwards slowly. akutagawa licked his bottom lip before he decided to take in your appearance to see your chest rising and falling calmly as you breath through your nose, the way your eyelids move when you blink to hide your preety irises from him temporarily before showing itself to him again, the way you are silently smack your lips as you wait for akutagawa to do something or say something yet all he does is stare at you while listening to the comments piling in by every passing second, no doubt many more would've had commented how they think they can treat you better then him.

how on earth can they even begin to think of such a big misunderstanding and how can they, with the passing second, continue to believe the little delusion their mind created for them?

there is a freeze in the muscles of the tiger before it begins to run towards the intruder. akutagawa's hand grasped both of your wrists before he brought them down, pinning them on top of your pubis mound as he leaned up to place his lips on your's, moving them slowly at first as his other hand grabbed your nape to move your face away from the camera and more towards him.

"won't apologise? you wanna keep on being stubborn?" akutagawa rasped, his breath getting a bit heavier as it is desire that is pushing down on his lungs everytime you or he moved, he could feel the outline of your dripping core on his crotch and near it and as you rubbed yourself on his thighs unconsciously during said movements, it drove him insane due to how restricted he is from freely touching you.

it all made sense. the reason for you to barge in and to try and provoke him and as akutagawa grinned at the realization, he smacked your cheek again. "such a needy princess, ain't ya?"

akutagawa had whispered out as to not let anyone else hear him yet his voice came out throaty as he did so, making it sound as if it had a hint of growl in it and that made your cunt to squeeze around nothing as more arousal dripped out of you and onto the fabric of your panties. you only nodded, licking your lip as akutagawa turned the chair around more so your bodies wouldn't be directly visible to the camera.

"so this is why you came to ruin my stream? because your pathetic fingers don't hit the same as your boyfriend's?" akutagawa mocked as he played with your bottom lip by flicking it, akutagawa raised his eyes to look at you as he smirked and let his hand (which was previously playing with your bottom lip) to trail along your cheek before cupping the curve of your jaw, "apologise to me already mommy."

akutagawa had softened his tone at the last part on purpose to make you feel breathless and breathless you were. your hands would've grabbed the collar of his jacket had it not been for his hand pining both of your's down.

akutagawa immediately leaned up to push his lips against your's as he pulled back as quickly yet didn't tilt his head back, choosing to remain in that proximity to tease you further knowing you and him share the same disadvantage of being unable to move freely.

"are you gonna stop --" you words were bought to a halt when akutagawa leaned in again to bump his lips against your's, the short moment of skin contact was frustrating to you,

--stop stream -- " you closed your eyes tightly before opening them again and akutagawa's hands grabbed your hips to adjust you to hide his crotch which is slowly growing hard under you, this caused your hands to be free and you immediately buried them under his shirt to lightly trace through his slight abs, your touch didn't feel as tickling as it felt stimulating for him, a light pink blushed coated his cheeks.

this had caused his eyes to widen and when his adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, a sheet of satisfaction covered you as you slowly parted your legs to have your clothed cunt press up against his crotch more.

"ryu . . . are you gonna stop streaming now or do i have to fuck myself infront of all your viewers to get you --" your words stopped, eyes closed and your hands tracing his abs laid flat out against them when akutagawa tsked mocking, immediately capturing your lips with his.

he moved his lips with aggression and desperation as both of his hands raised slowly up your body, slithering up your sides before one rested on your collarbone in such a way that his thumb pressed against your collarbone while the other four fingers were digging into your shoulders.

akutagawa quickly separated as he raised his hand to smack you on the cheek, leaning near your ear to mutter,

"what a needy slut you are, princess. you wanna let my viewers see how much of a cock hungry slut you are? go on, make a fool out of yourself f'me." akutagawa tilted his head.

his words made your thighs twitch yet you quickly shook your head as your hands clawed at his abs as if desperately trying to hold him, "n-no ryu, 'm sorry, ryu really. please ryu. sorry, 'm really sorry. for real."

your words came out smoothly in a whiny tone as you pecked his lips after every 'sorry' you pronounced and this action of attaining forgiveness and reawaken some slept on softness in his heart made akutagawa grin.

not smile but grin almost close to a smirk as the cockiness radiated off of him.

"you are sorry? really? won't be a brat anymore, right princess?" akutagawa mimicked you by pecking your lips after every sentence he spoke and when you parted your lips to speak, akutagawa shoved his index and middle finger down your mouth as the pads of both the fingers pressed down on your tongue to make you unable to speak or even close your mouth.

"shh. be a good girl and take it." akutagawa said while he pressed down on your tongue more while pushing his fingers deep till they were in knuckles deep, your gags and the saliva dripping down your chin made his cock harden up more.

the saliva dripped down your chin slowly made it hard for akutagawa to remain still, his legs twitched and he pressed down ever harder on your tongue making you jerk up as you looked at him through blurry eyes, the sight causing him to tilt his head back and moan and when he did so, his adam's apple bobbing up and down was a sight for your eyes to feast upon.

"f-fuck it." akutagawa stuttered and cursed as he tilted his head back up before immediately pulling his fingers out of your mouth and instead, replacing it with his lips on your's.

immediately, he pushed on his heels to roll the chair forwards, the wheels of the chair crushed the cigarette which dropped from his hand long ago and along with that, so did his stream end. after doing so, akutagawa's eyes shifted to you again as he lightly digged his teeth on your bottom lip thrice or twice as he leaned back on the chair to sit more comfortably, hands on your curves to guide you to lean back with him.

akutagawa's hands trailed up your body, squeezing the flesh along the way before one rested on your jaw as he gripped it with his fingers while the other once again went lower to grab and grope the flesh of your ass now, akutagawa's lips moved against your's before he began to leave little pecks on your bottom lip for a few seconds.

as he separated, akutagawa looked at the monitor to make sure the stream has ended and once he made sure of it, he turned his head back at you again to see you breathing heavily as you looked at him him with half lidded eyes as you licked your lips.

"how can i not give you my entire world when you are such a patient princess f'me?" akutagawa groaned, grabbing your hips again as he lifted himself from the chair, turning you two around before making you sit at the edge of his chair while he went down on his knees, looking up at you.

"ryu --"

"i know princess," akutagawa intrupted your whine as he clasped both of his plams with yours, pulling your arms and wrapping it around his neck which made you lean down towards him. akutagawa tilted his head up, once again kissing you while his hands undid your shorts knot and slipped under it to rub over the wet patch he felt before too, over your slit.

"let me reward you now, yeah?" akutagawa mumbled in the short course of time where his lips separated from your's before he began to kiss you again, his tongue slipping through the small partition between your upper and bottom lip which you created to allow him access inside.

his tongue swiped over your teeth once before he used his free hand to grab your palms which were turned into fists behind his head, pulling on both of your fists to pull you closer towards him and have his lips pressed dangerously close to your's.

his teeth clashed against your's while his tongue flicked your own, he pulled back slightly to have his attention on your bottom lip as he digged his teeth into it, drawing out a few beads of blood from your lip.

he immediately moved towards your upper lip as he left a gentle and soft peck on it, his finger which was rubbing your slit now moved up to pinch your clit which made you softly cry out.

as akutagawa's finger lowered towards your slit again, so did his lips as they sucked on your bottom lip as he sucked out the blood. your hands grabbed his hair tightly as he leaned up while still being on his knees to push you back onto the chair and he used his hand to push your legs apart and towards your chest after your back was supported by the back of the chair.

two of his fingers immediately plunged into your hole and you moaned out against his mouth which lead him to once again dig his teeth into your lip to draw out even more blood.

your hold on his hair tightened as he showed no mercy, as if the concept is foreign to him with the way he pushed and pulled his fingers out of you so fast, your chest heaved up and down with each thrust.

you were only given limited oxygen to breath into as akutagawa's attacks on your bottom lip didn't halt for even a second, alternatively sucking on your bottom lip and sucking the blood out or drawing more beads of blood out of your lip.

it was when he felt your walls tightening around his fingers that he raised his thumb to rub aggressive and quick circles around your clit, his lips leaving yours as you began loudly moaning and whimpering while your body shook as it prepared for the upcoming and quick orgasm though you didn't expect it to leave your body in such a way.

every nook and corner of your body felt the farewell of the orgasm as pleasure replaced it, your back arched as you leaned back even more on his chair, almost sobbing as akutagawa licked his lips and watched how your legs shook while you squirted, your panties and shorts getting wet was a sight that made his cock harden up even more.

akutagawa immediately grabbed your throat to pull you near him, not caring if you are still breathing heavily due to the orgasm or how your body is shaking, he watched your red and swollen bottom lip and parted his lips, pressing his down on it to experiment with it and see if the pressure of his tongue could draw out blood or not as he once again began to aggressively rub your clit and he whispered out, hot breath colliding with your mouth,

"give me one more princess? --" akutagawa paused to smirk cockily, poking your lip with his tongue. you parted your lips and he immediately began to suck on your upper lip, leaving it only to lick your bottom lip and suck on it softly instead.

your hands shakily grabbed the armrests of the chair to stabilize your shaky body as akutagawa's one hand was choking you lightly while the other was rubbing your clit and when he felt your body tense again.

"make a mess f'me please mommy." akutagawa whispered and watched you crumble down again as your body lost its strength and your head tilted back as your lips parted while you breathed out, short and rushed.

yet akutagawa wasn't one for mercy as he watched with awe at how he was able to make you squirt again, a odd sense of pride settling on his heart and mind.

immediately, akutagawa grabbed both sides of your waist to lift you up and turned both of you around again to make you sit on his lap again, spreading his legs to have you directly above his crotch and he didn't care for how you stained or made his jeans wet.

all he cared was to watch how you let out a dry sob when he humped up against you, the fabric of his jeans colliding with your wet panties and shorts which in turn, made contact with your swollen and sensitive clit and cunt, sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through your body.

"ry-- ry-- yu --- ry --" you cry out again as you weren't given the chance to speak out his name even once as everytime you tried to call out his name, akutagawa humped up against you and left you a moaning and trembling mess.

"what's wrong mommy? thought you wanted to be fucked stupid? hm?" akutagawa innocently asked yet the smug smirk on his face told you just how much he enjoyed seeing you be a mess for him.

akutagawa raised his hand to cup your jaw and pull you closer, he affectionately rubbed the tip of his nose against your's before once again thrusting up against you which made you let out a choked moan.

"my preety princess." he planted a soft peck on your swollen lips before his eyes narrowed and he smirked as he whispered,

"i will make sure to make such a mess out of you tonight . . . mommy." akutagawa teased mockingly as he scoffed and smirked once more before grabbing your hips to lift you up and pull down your shorts and panties just enough to let him see the arousal and cum dripping down your inner side and making a puddle on your panties.

akutagawa exhaled a shaky breath before bringing his hand near your clit and taping his knuckles against it to watch how you jerk up, letting out an affectionate sigh.

"such a preety thing, 's all for me, right?" akutagawa raised his eyes to look at you who was too fucked out to even reply and so, he clicked his tongue before raising his hand up to smack you with the back of his palm, (again, let's not forget that the force of his smacks hadn't once changed and continued to remain gentle).

"i asked you something, ain't you supposed to answer me mommy?" akutagawa raised his eyebrows as he pressed down on your clit yet again and watched leisurely how you jerked up, frantically nodding.

"use your words. you aren't mute, right?" akutagawa commanded and his smugness increased when he watches you sob as you shake your head for he knew just as well as you how he is making it hard for anything other then moans to leave your lips and he cooed as he raised one of his hands to wipe away the sweat forming on your forehead while the other hand had pulled down his zipper

"fine. you wanna be ungrateful to me after i've been so nice to you princess? go ahead and humor me." akutagawa grinned at the way you shook your head while he lifted you up using your thighs, quickly pulling his jeans and boxers down with much effort till they were pooled by his feet and he immediately pushed you down on his hardened and angry cock.

"-yo -- 's your's ry -- ahh - ryu! all of me -- is -- it's your's!!" you end up screaming out as he immediately begin thrusting into you and akutagawa hummed as he watched you shakily wrap your arms around his shoulder, clawing at his leather jacket as you lay your head down on his shoulder only for him to grab your nape to pull your head back so he could stare at your fucked out expression, and before he spoke, he smacked your cheek again as your head turned to the other side due to how lightheaded you feel as you feel another orgasm approaching you.

"such a good girl but don't you dare hide your face. let me see how much i am making you feel good, 'kay mommy? wanna see you as i fuck you stupid." akutagawa whispered and paused for a moment to watch you ; your back is arched as your nails dig into his leather jacket while your eyes are squinted as you try your best to not break the eye contact and akutagawa ran a hand through his hair to push his hair back, chuckling breathlessly before he groaned out, "fuck. fuck me mommy -- let me fuck you mommy. what a hot beauty you are."

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oliversrarebooks · 1 year ago

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the defiant princess

TW: hypnotic induction, mind control, restraints, belittling language

Ah, hello, your Majesty. It's so kind of you to grant me an audience. I hear you put up quite a fuss while my henchmen tried to make you comfortable in those ropes, but really, it was the only way I could get you to hear me out.

Don't worry, I understand. I know how busy you are. So many important decisions to make, wars to avoid, criminals to pardon, and peasants to help. It must be so, so... tiring to be so noble, wouldn't you say?

A witch? Yes, your majesty, I am a witch. An enchantress, to be precise, a very powerful one, and I'm only here to help advise you.

Oh, my, what language! That's the spitfire princess I've heard about! So brave and defiant. So admirable. That's exactly what I wish to speak to you about, your Majesty.

You see, I'm ever so worried about you. All of that defiance must take a toll on you. A bratty, headstrong princess like you needs a firm guiding hand. Someone to help them rest and sleep. Someone to help them be more docile and obedient, just like a good princess should be.

It's so cute to see you struggle against those bonds. I assure you they're quite tight. And I can also assure you that there's no fighting what's about to happen to you. Soon, you're going to be far too drowsy and entranced to resist anything I say.

You don't want that? Well, what would you think if I showed you the gift I brought you? It's a lovely crystal pendant, a rare piece fit for a princess of your temperament. You could practically say it was made just for you. See how perfectly its facets catch the light as I spin it? So lovely, isn't it? So hard to tear your eyes away.

Here, let me help you, let me move it closer to your eyes, so that you may see it better. Oh, were you trying to look away just now? I think you'll find that's quite impossible. No, don't struggle. There's nothing to fear, nothing to worry about. Just a beautiful, captivating crystal. Just keep looking, keep watching the way it sparkles in the light, as I slowly swing it back and forth. Back and forth, in front of your eyes. So beautiful. So perfect. That's it, your majesty.

I love the way the crystal looks reflected in your glassy, dazed eyes. I love the way your struggles against your bonds have become weak and lifeless. I love how I see you trying to tear your eyes away, but they keep flickering back to the crystal.

Trying to hypnotize you? Your majesty, I'm not trying to hypnotize you. I am hypnotizing you.

You've probably realized this by now, but this is no ordinary crystal. It's a crystal that has the power to put people to sleep, even the most bratty, defiant princess. It has the power to make you docile and weak the more you watch it. No, don't try to look away. Keep looking, and let the crystal steal your will away.

Doesn't it make you feel so very quiet and docile, the way your eyes keep following the crystal back-and-forth? Doesn't it make you feel weak and compliant, when you just can't seem to look away?

Yes, very good, your majesty. Let the crystal drain your willpower, let it replace your strength with a slow, delicious drowsiness. Keep watching. Watching the crystal will make you feel sleepy, and you're already too docile and weak to do anything about it. Oh, no, don't argue. I think even you realize that you're falling under my spell. The crystal's light is making you so sleepy, so drowsy. And it's so hard to be defiant when you're so sleepy, isn't it?

With every slow swing of the crystal, you can feel its sleepy, hypnotic power tugging at your eyelids, making them so heavy, gently coaxing them to close. The crystal's light is soothing you to sleep, dear princess, easing you under my hypnotic spell. The more drowsy and dazed you become, the easier it is for my words to slip past your defenses. Your mind is getting so, so tired, so tired of struggling.

Oh, you say you aren't sleepy? Awww, poor sleepy princess. You don't sound like a brave, defiant woman any more. You sound like a sleepy little girl protesting being put to bed. Look at that cute little yawn. I think you are sleepy. I think you are very, very sleepy. I think it's so adorable to see your heavy eyelids blink so slowly as you try to keep yourself awake.

It's okay, sweet princess, just keep watching the nice sleepy crystal. It's your gift, after all, a pretty little gift that will help put you to sleep, a perfect gift for a drowsy and docile princess who needs someone else to do all the hard thinking for her.

What's that you said? I can't understand your groggy little mumbles, especially when you keep yawning like that. You're not going to fall under my spell? Your majesty, you have already fallen under my spell. There's no use in trying to resist. You're already half-asleep and so dazed and obedient.

Yes, obedient. Look at how your eyes are still following the crystal, just as I told you to, even though you're so very drowsy now that you would love for your eyes to shut. It's hard to keep them open, isn't it? You'd much rather close your eyes and sink deeper under my power, but you can't stop watching the crystal, the crystal made especially to put bratty little princesses to sleep. It's almost like you want to be put into a deep, entranced, hypnotic sleep.

No, you say? Your futile struggles really are so cute. It's so funny to think of how you normally are, bellowing orders left and right, and here you are with me, so hypnotized and sleepy, mumbling out your tired little protests. This is so much better, isn't it? It feels so nice to be so, so hypnotized and sleepy. It feels so nice to feel yourself slipping under my spell, knowing that when I've completely hypnotized you, you won't have to worry about anything any more.

Shh, shhh, princess, hush, it's okay. It's okay. It's okay to let yourself be hypnotized. You're so tired, aren't you? As endearing as it is to watch those pretty eyes glued to my crystal, I think you need to rest them now. Just for a minute. Your eyelids are so, so heavy now, as though they have little lead weights attached to them. Just let them shut. You'll feel so much better. Yes, that's a good princess. That's a good girl. That's a good little girl, a sleepy, docile, and dazed little girl.

Just relax now. Just keep your eyes closed. Are you still trying to fight sleep? Aww, you're such a cute little brat. You know very well you're too drowsy to resist. You're going to feel yourself beginning to slip off into dreamland. The beautiful hypnotic crystal and my soothing voice are going to send you to a lovely, sleepy place where you'll feel so docile and relaxed that you won't ever want to leave.

The part of your mind that wants to resist me is sleepy, too. It's falling asleep, little princess, I'm putting your resistance to sleep. You can picture it in your mind, the strong, defiant princess you normally are, sitting on her throne and commanding her servants. You can see her yawn, her eyelids droop and flutter. You can see me cradling her in my arms, carrying her off to bed. She's falling asleep, dear girl, that strong-willed part of you. There's nothing left to resist me with. You're too sleepy, too hypnotized.

Yes, just go to sleep, fall deep asleep, and let the hypnotic spell seal around your tired little mind. Your free will, your personality, your desires, all will fade away as my hypnosis locks you into deep, sweet sleep. It feels so, so good that you won't ever want to resist it. You're meant for obedience and sleep, princess. Your usual personality was just an act, wasn't it, an act to conceal your true nature as a docile, helpless girl.

Here, let me fasten that crystal right around your pretty neck. It looks so perfect on you. It's going to keep you weak and docile and hypnotized. As long as you have this on, you'll be able to walk and talk and do your daily tasks, but your mind will secretly be completely asleep. You'll be able to hear my words no matter where you are, and my words will become your thoughts. As long as you have this on, you will obey me and only me, do you understand? Only my words will control you, no one else's.

Yes, princess, you want to remain asleep, you want to remain hypnotized. It feels good, doesn't it? Yes, so good. That drowsy little smile of yours says it all. You won't ever take the crystal off, will you? Of course you won't. You need the crystal to help you stay asleep. You need the crystal hypnotizing your docile little princess mind. You need it more than anything.

And you won't let anyone else take it off either. No, that would be awful. You don't want that at all. Even if some idiotic hero tells you the crystal is dangerous, you need to keep wearing it no matter what. If someone tries to take the crystal from you, you'll resist them with all your might, won't you? Yes, that's right.

And this one is very, very important, my sleepy little princess, so I'm going to need you to listen carefully. You can't tell anyone else about the crystal, or about what happened here. You'll keep the crystal hidden under your dress so that they won't question you. You can't let anyone know you're asleep and hypnotized. They won't understand. They'll try to wake you, try to steal your crystal, and you can't have that happen. If you ever try to tell someone about the crystal, your mind will feel so hazy and foggy that you can't get the words out. But you won't even try, will you? Of course not, you're too docile and obedient. You'll only show people the crystal if I want you to.

What's that you're trying to say? Who will rule the kingdom? Why, you will rule the kingdom, of course you will, there's nothing to worry about at all. You're a docile, helpless princess -- of course you can rule the kingdom while fast asleep and completely hypnotized. It will be so easy, so much easier than it's ever been, because my voice will advise you on everything you need to do. Yes, it's so much better to rule the kingdom while hypnotized. No more difficult decisions or boring state dinners or ministers clamoring for attention. You can sleep through it all. Isn't it wonderful, to be under a hypnotic spell?

Yes, it is, isn't it? It's just so right to be a sleepy, hypnotized princess, trapped in the spell of a witch, just like in the fairy tales you love. But unlike the foolish little girls in those stories, you know better than to want to be rescued. You understand that princesses like you are meant to be in a deep hypnotic trance. That's why it feels so very good.

You love your witch, your darling enchantress who whispers in your ear and makes you oh so drowsy and captivated. You love being obedient and entranced. You love it all.

And wouldn't it be just so lovely if more people were under my spell? Wouldn't it be ideal if everyone in the castle were under the influence of my lovely, sleepy, hypnotic crystal? Don't you want them all to be as contented and obedient as you are?

Yes, that's an excellent idea, your majesty. Let's hypnotize the entire court, one by one. You're so brave and intelligent, so good at ruling the kingdom, the best princess the land has ever known.

Here, let me take care of those ropes. You've been bound up so long, but you're not going to foolishly try to fight me any more, are you? No, of course you aren't. You're as sweet and docile as a kitten, a drowsy little kitten waking up from her nap. You can open your eyes now, princess, and remain completely asleep. There you go. Aww, that adoring look on your face is so delectable!

You will kneel before me, won't you? Sleepy, hypnotized princesses must kneel before their new mistress. Yes, that's a good dear. Oh, you look so cute, looking up at me and blinking slowly, still so dazed. You've had quite the nap, haven't you, princess? You must feel so refreshed, now that you're finally getting the sleep you need.

Now, your majesty, do you see that sweet young woman in the corner? Yes, your chief handmaiden. You've been best friends with her for your whole lives, isn't that right? She tried so hard to protect you, so brave and loyal. She's been trying to wriggle out of the ropes and shout through her gag this entire time, poor thing. Does that upset you, dear princess? Don't you think she needs to relax? Don't you think she needs to get some sleep?

Why don't you go to her, soothe her, and focus her pretty little eyes right on that hypnotic crystal? Why don't you hypnotize your friend into lovely, submissive sleep? Then you'll both be under my control, isn't that perfect? Yes, that's right. Good princess. You're following my suggestions so well. Let me guide you, let me help you put all of your subjects to sleep, one by one.

Yes, that's a good little princess.

Masterlist

If you like this story, you may like "listen to my Voice, hero" for more gentle, slow hypnotic induction on a resisting subject.

#mind control #hypnosis #hypnotic induction #hypnotized princess #hypnotized becomes hypnotist #hypnotic crystal #whump #defiant whumpee #whumpee #whumpee princess #whumper #witch #hypnotized #brainwashing #whump writing

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dunmeshichilchuck · 9 months ago

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For That One Guy on Tumblr, part 3

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

@dunmeshimeshi @leguink

Approximately 10 minutes later your optimism floated away with your appetite while you stared down at what looked like a lamb chop in abject horror.

"You've been eating WHAT??!!"

Laois looked all too enthused. "They're good! I promise! Just try some!"

Marcille backed him up. "Yeah I know it seems weird but it really is very tasty!"

Almost reflexively, you looked at the other halffoot in the room. Was this some kind of prank they were playing? Were they actually criminals consigned to live down here for the rest of time? Was this...actually safe?

He seemed to somewhat understand your unspoken questions. He nodded and shrugged. "It's what's gotten us to this floor. Otherwise we wouldn't have been able to buy and pack enough food."

He picked up his fork and took a bite. "Mmmm Senshi this is really good!"

Everyone else followed suit, and even though you figured they were playing it up for your benefit, it did seem like they were genuinely enjoying it. You watched Chilchuck carefully, and when he didn't seem to be doubling over and dying, and at the insistent prodding of Laois, you tried a tentative bite.

It was, unfortunately, amazing. Probably the best meat you'd ever had in your life. Once started your hunger took over and you started to scarf down the food.

Someone grabbed your fork and you glanced up angrily to see Chilchuck looking concerned, along with the rest of the party members.

"If you eat it that quickly you'll throw it back up, and then it'll just be a net loss." He said brusquely. "Especially with our smaller stomaches resurrection hunger can be difficult to remedy safely."

You knew THAT, you weren't fucking stupid. Just it'd been so long since you'd had good food, and you were so hungry...

Senshi looked chagrined "aaahhhh I should have thought of that! My apologies young lady, I'll make you some broth you can drink slowly."

You scowled. "I can handle a little meat! And I'm fucking starving!"

Chilchuck scowled right back and summarily yanked your plate from you. "Don't be stupid, if your stomach explodes from overeating we'll just have to ressurect you again, and that'd be a waste of time and mana."

You briefly contemplated how difficult it would be to get the plate back, but your knife was in a neat pile with the remnants of your clothes and you were weak from hunger. Seeming to read your mind, Chilchuck firmly placed the plate to the side out of your reach, along with his own.

You scowled at him angrily, but were distracted by Senshi pushing a delicious smelling bowl into your hands.

"There you go! Whipped you up just a quick broth. Drink that SLOWLY now, and then you can probably have a bit of meat."

You took one sip and then chugged the whole bowl, gasping for breath between every few gulps. Your stomach screamed at you insistently. You NEEDED this you HAD to have it.

A few minutes later you, thankfully, barely, made it outside to vomit up the contents of your stomach into the snow outside instead of all over your clean clothes.

As you retched into the snow you heard the opening to the sauna pull back and Chilchuck say "you see? This would have been a lot worse if you'd had solid food in you. Come back inside once you're done and we can try again."

You weakly told him to fuck off, and he just snorted a bit and popped back inside.

You walked back inside already ready to be on the defensive, you'd just wasted perfectly good food after all. But Senshi just beckoned you over with some more broth and a spoon. "Now take one bite, and then count to 3, and then another bite, and you should be able to keep this down."

you sat there and slowly, determinedly, got the whole bowl down without losing control or throwing up again.

Once you finished, Senshi smiled broadly. "Very good! Now lets give it a couple hours and you should be able to drink some more! This was just a quick preparation, but I'll go make you some actual soup that'll still be easy on the stomach!"

You watched Senshi happily start to cook again in bemusement.

You sat down next to Chilchuck against the wall and said in a low voice. "Is he....always like that?"

"What, obsessed with cooking? Yeah no he loves it. Laois is the same but with monsters, and then Marcille is weird about magic. Weird magic too." He cast a furtive glance at Marcille, who seemed to be happily occupied in mending some article of clothing. "Izutzumi just kinda hangs out but she doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do."

You nodded thoughtfully, digesting the information.

"And are they...." You paused, considering how to ask this. "They seem to treat you....well."

Chilchuck scoffed. "Ah times have changed since you were frozen, the union's helped with that. Contracts are hammered out in advance and they have to stick to it no matter what. I get paid in advance, I don't fight, I'm not bait, and I have an equal say in the party. Anything less and I'm out of here."

You nodded again. That was good. That was very good. Having another halffoot to travel with was going to be great. Just one issue....you didn't have a contract with this party.

#chilchuck x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #dungeon meshi

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fangirlblogger · 10 months ago

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Fangirl Analysis Four: Bill Skarsgard's forehead wrinkles.

Girlies, the concept of this analysis is something that has been on mind since I've started evolving into a woman. I have developed this attraction of men's forehead wrinkles since last year and it's not because of my daddy issues (that's another conversation for another time), it's because of aging unfortunately. But I'm glad I'm aging because then I would not be here analyzing this beautiful and masterful craft on Daddy Bill Skarsgard's forehead. The man's got a heavenly forehead and girrrl, the things I want to do to that forehead are endless. With that being said, let's get into the analysis.

Listen girlies, if Bill looked at me the way he did in this image, I would instantly melt, evaporate and vanish. Girl, I don't know whether I want him to look at me that way forever or eat me and look at me like that till I pass out. I'm swooning over this look right now and the thing that makes this image more desirable and religiously worthy to be worshiped is his forehead wrinkles.

This image is from the Clark TV mini series and Bill played Clark Olofsson - a Swedish criminal in the 70s that prompted society to coined the term Stockholm Syndrome based on his relationships with his hostages or victims. Spoiler for those who did not watch the mini series yet, that's basically what the series is about. If you're a Bill Skarsgard fangirl like myself who has not watched this mini series yet, GIRL YOU HAVE TO (it's on Netflix if you're wondering). You will enjoy and devour every moment of it. Every sound of his voice, all of his body movements, all his angry, lustful, joyful, sad and confused glances and looks, his thick and rough Swedish accent, his manipulative smiles, his boisterous laughter and most importantly the way he devoured that oyster in Episode one, good Lord I came so hard, I almost thought I was giving birth to Bill's kid.

Now girlies, I am aware that there a numerous images of Bill displaying his godly forehead wrinkles. Some of them are so good, I don't know if it's my pussy that's wetter or it's my mouth.

Case study question: Why did I specifically select this image?

It's a no brainer really, my pussy gets wet instantly and I know this is the real deal, the masterpiece, my Salvatore Mundi.

Let's take a look at his hair. His hair looks so effortlessly perfect. The way the strand of hair draws down his forehead, just above his eye-brow is so immaculate. You can tell that he puts so much effort into taking care of his hair because of how effortlessly perfect it looks.

Now onto his jawline, cheeks and chin. He has the most flawless cheeks ever. When he doesn't smile, they lay back so perfectly and that brings out his perfect jawline, making it sharp enough to crack me open like a coconut. But when he does smile, they rise up so well and display his impeccable double chin. His chin is so well shaped that it smoothly keeps his immaculate facial structures intact and glorious.

His lips, they are a world of its own. I wouldn't mind being his lips, getting moistened and licked by his tongue every day. I will not delve into this anymore further because there will be an analysis on his lips soon. So I'll save all the goodness for later.

Let's look at his eyes. His eyes have the most unerring eye bags under them and in this image you can clearly see how perfect they are. We all know Bill has the world's most soulful eyes, so big and doe, they just make you want to cry in a sexual way. By the look in his eyes, and the lines on his face from his eyes to his forward, it clearly indicate that he is concerned but not in a good way. He is concerned about how he is going to manipulate his girlfriend. Also, you can see a little bit of impatience on his face in this image. If you watch the Clark film, you'll understand what I mean.

Now, finally to his wrinkles. They are so important in this image especially in this episode of the Clark mini series. Significance of it to this image is that it makes Bill look real. I've stated this before and I am saying it again, nothing is more attractive than a man with a natural face. His forehead wrinkles indicates to us that he is aging and that is the most beautiful thing in the world. Girl, his forehead wrinkles can wrinkle me up all the way to heaven.

The significance of this look in the image to the Clark mini series is that he perfectly displayed the look of a manipulative man. As already stated, his facial expressions displayed impatience, concern and irritability. My guy just came to see the girl and manipulate her to still love him. He did not come to see her and listen to what she has to say. And, Bill perfectly executes that in that scene.

Moreover, this image showed him in his natural state, meaning if he was not acting, this is what he would like on a daily basis, and that is super-hot! He looks scruffy, organic and humanly.

To conclude, wrinkles are beautiful and when they're on Bill Skarsgard's forehead, I go feral and insane. Those wrinkles makes him even more attractive. The Starry Night by Van Gogh might have you tripping but Bill's forehead wrinkles will have your pussy singing. So to the men that thinks women are rizzed by their overly masculine features, we're not. We like our men simple and comfortable like Bill Skarsgard.

Also, I would like to clarify that if you read this analysis as a body-shaming post, it is entirely the opposite. I love Bill Skarsgard and I find every bit of his body attractive, alluring and godly. I am aware of the social obsession with ageism but I actually prefer my man a bit older with a bit of grey hair, wrinkles, and 10 times more trauma from life than me.

#fanfics #girlblogging #bill skarsgård #fan thoughts #roman godfrey #hemlock grove #fandom #fangirl #bill skarsgard #clark netflix #clark olofsson #bill skarsgard double chin #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgård smut #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard x reader

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lauriegraham01 · 1 year ago

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i know you

pairings: will graham x gn!reader

summary: wills just been released from the baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane, he's lost parts of himself and you try to calm him through the storm that is his mind.

wc: 1,202

a/n: inspo from two songs actually: bobby by alex g, i know you by faye webster, and maybe a line of maroon by ts.

will, you have been my rare gift in this life- <3

It's been four days since Will had been released from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

Not even within the hour of being released, Jack Crawford had him back on the field. You added to your list of grievances against Jack when Beverly shot you a text saying Will was working on the case of Miriam Lass. You felt defeated as one of the poisons in Will's life had managed to seep his way in again.

Jack wouldn't allow you to visit Will while he was admitted. He said your personal relationship would interfere with the case against him. As your boss, you knew he was in the right, but as someone who also knew Will, he knew the harm he was doing by placing you out of reach.

When Jack came to your office to tell you of Will's attempt on murdering Hannibal, he had expected any other reaction then the one you had given.

"He's been telling you from the start Jack but you won't listen." Looking up at him you see the unamused look on his face from where he stands towering over your desk.

"What are you implying then?" Leaning over he gets closer as he carries an edge in his voice. You know an intimidation tactic when you see one and you remain unphased underneath his gaze.

"You kill Hannibal, you kill the Chesapeake Ripper. Once you see the murders have you stopped, then you'll believe that it was Hannibal all this time."

You get up from your desk and grab your coat as you make way for the door before granting him one last look.

"Just like Will has been telling you."

Now Will's home, but he's not. After spending a few months locked away as a pawn in somebody else's game, he came back a different man. He lost a piece of himself every day. As everyone turned against him, and without having you as an anchor, he questioned his mind, his sanity, and his reality.

Right now you both sat side by side on the front porch of the farmhouse as you watched the dog's play around in the snow. You never thought that you would get this back, to be able to feel things were normal for even a second and Will wasn't battling forces of evil that were far too intricate for you to comprehend.

"I missed this," you break the silence that hung in the air. " Things feel normal for once."

"I don't think normal is something that I can go back to y/n," his voice came out hoarse, sleep still evident in his throat.

"There's still a chance though, right?" You throw a side glance of him as you bring the cup of your coffee within your hands, up to your lips.

Will stays silent for a while. You weren't sure if even you were waiting for a response, understanding if he didn't. His mind is no longer the way it was months before, operating in an entirely new way as he viewed the world through a different lens.

Yet you remained the same in his eyes. His perfect design. He knew that Jack was punishing him by preventing you from seeing him, and not seeing you for a long time caused irrevocable damage to him. The voices in his head told him that you wouldn't believe him, that you couldn't be with a man as broken as he was, that you didn't love him anymore.

He turned his head to look at your face. As you felt his eyes on you, you met his gaze and he felt his heart swell within his chest. He still felt that rush that surged through him whenever he was near you. Will has loved you through your toughest storms, but he didn't think he was worthy of your undying loyalty, love, and patience.

"Where's your mind at Will?" Voice gentle, afraid that he may shut you out at the sudden curiosity.

"I told everyone Hannibal was a killer...and nobody believed me."

There's a pain so evident in his voice that you've never heard before. An ache so profound so desolate, that it just confirms how it'll be a long time before Will would get even a fraction of his mind back.

"I did," you softly affirmed.

"I do."

"How can you love me?"

"Do you remember when we first met?" His eyebrows scrunch up, not understanding the connection or relevance to the topic at hand. Taking his silence as means to go on, you think back to all those years ago to when you and Will were still in your lunchbox days.

"I grabbed your hand and you tore my dress after I got so upset at the amount of mud that caked at the bottom of it. You've cleaned up so many of my messes over the years Will as I have for you. With you, I've felt things I can't express and I know you've lost your way and made your messes but I'll clean it for you."

You reach out for his hand and with fingers intertwined, he feels a sense of comfort-something that had almost become foreign to him. But of course you were the one to remind him of that feeling, because even after this time you were the candle burning in the bleak of the night. The one shred of hope he had left that there was good in this world, that the raging seas that his mind traveled through would one day calm down to still waters.

"Did you ever lose faith in me?"

"No," you immediately replied.

"I told you a long time ago that I had enough faith for the both of us and I meant it." Squeezing his hand, he took note of how your eyes shifted around as you tried to fight off the intense wave of emotions he knew were consuming you.

"I didn't lose it then even when you tried to have Hannibal killed. I know you had your reasons and I could understand why you did what you did. And there's no way in hell i'm gonna lose it now."

"I love you unforgivably Will, without hesitation." Your voice comes out high pitched towards the end as you felt your throat tightening.

"I'm here regardless of the pain, don't ever tell me to go away from you. I know you, Will. I love you."

He lets go of your intertwined hands before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. He laid his chin on top of your head as you burrowed your face into the side of his neck. The scent of his aftershave filled your senses and you let out a heavy sigh, grateful that moments like these could happen. Grateful that Will was here and hopeful that there could be a path to healing.

"I know you too, and I love you y/n," he whispers as he pulls back to capture your lips in a soft kiss. The lips that he knew he could always call home.

#nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham x reader #will graham #hugh dancy #jack crawford #madds mikkelsen #slight angst #hurt/comfort #hannibal tv

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 11 months ago

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Into Your Arms. - Price x OC

|| [<- Part One] ||

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 4.3K~ cw: smut, piv sex (unprotected), car sex, unsafe sexual practices, pussy slapping, flirting, insults, banter, sexual innuendos/intentions, love confessions.

a/n: yes this is a musical fic/chapter thing and it's inspired by Into Your Arms by Ava Max and Witt Lowry.

Yeah, I don't mean to make you wait, just the pressure's been gettin' heavy

I know if I fuck us up, we'll be over, done, you'll forget me

They dated for a solid 4 months. 4 months straight of him driving over to see her both at work and out of it. With some small missions in between, but constant time together nonetheless.

Showing up at the military hospital with coffee, or a pastry, or a meal to-go, kissing her on the lips, strong hands gripping at the extra fat on her thighs or her ass or her tummy.

Taking her on fancier dates, dinners, films, tea and sweets, little gifts here in there, letting her drag him around the shopping centre, and swipe his card on the machine before she could.

Ending up in her bed more often than not, sneaking out the next morning, meeting her roommate, Molly Cole, on many of those mornings, only to have a message in his phone by noon complaining about how Molly goaded her over him having spent the night over again.

Meeting her friends, her meeting his. Going out together for drinks at the pub, and clubbing, watching her dance and drink, feeling her body against his, seeing her curves in those dresses, watching how she came close to his height in those tall heels of hers...

Only to have to leave, sent on a mission. Many months long... Uncertain of how long just a "Until it's done" promise.

Their relationship was too carefree for a label or title... and too fresh for a 'I'll wait for you'.

It caused a difficult conversation.

One he hadn't expected to go the way it did.

I'm feelin' bad that I act this way, 'cause you let me

They call me king, but I know my queen will be there to check me

A breeching of feelings that they never had to before.

Standing in her bedroom, she was getting dressed, while he stood in the ensuite bathroom, looking in the mirror.

"I don't know when I'll be back." He announced from over his shoulder.

"That's fine." She replied as she fastened her bra.

"No, you don't understand." He grunted as he turned to look at her.

He watched her reach over to grab a black camisole from the hanger.

"What don't I understand?" She asked as she glanced at him before throwing the camisole over her body.

"That I don't know if and when I'll be back... and I don't want you to wait." He leaned against the doorway, looking at her.

"You severely overestimate how invested I am in this, John." Kathleen said as she pulled her brown hair off from the accidental tuck inside her camisole.

"So you won't care that I go?" John asked her as he crossed his arms.

"Were you expecting me to?" She chuckled as she crossed her own arms, mirroring him.

"And you won't miss me, huh?" He teased.

"Nope." She replied nonchalantly.

"Won't even worry that I might die out there?"

"I hope you do, actually."

John rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You're a horrible woman."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, war criminal-" She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying, don't expect me to be waiting for you with open arms."

I'm out of my head, out of my mind

If you let me, I'll be out of my dress and into your arms tonight

Feels like I'm always waitin'

Kathleen is good at lying. Normally.

When John told her he had to go, and for the next three weeks, she acted as if she didn't care, as if she wouldn't and didn't miss him at all.

But it was slowly tearing her up from the inside out.

Whenever an SAS team was sent back and came into Tidworth for treatment, she'd stiffen up.

She'd run out to the helipad, rushing for the chopper and directing the other nurses and doctors and triage, and then she'd look around, amidst the chaos, wide-eyed and feral, as if expecting to find her boyfriend on a stretcher...

Was he even her boyfriend?

Had he ever been?

Two months came and went and it settled however. She started seeing other people, one-night stands (shameless ones), a couple of dates with blokes she found a bit too nice (boring)...

It was an earnest attempt at moving on.

Then he came back. She heard of it from others...

He didn't contact her for the first two weeks.

Acting like he was single, like he had been single this whole time.

Like she had been too, she guessed.

Yeah, I don't mean to make you wait or to contemplate about us

My ex, she loved to lie, guess that's why it's harder to trust

I been searchin' to find myself and not get too lost into lust

But she couldn't help but wonder if when he said 'don't wait for me', he really was just looking for an excuse not to continue dating her when he came back.

Then on the Saturday of week three, at 11 P.M., she received a text from him.

Big Bastard 🙄: "Can I come see you?"

And she let him.

She opened the door for him and he pushed his way inside, arms wrapped tight around her waist, a hand digging into her scalp, pressing her into the wall and claiming her mouth with a greedy kiss.

His tongue dug into her mouth like he was trying to stake claim on her from the inside out, pressing her body to his, her heavy breasts pushed tight against his muscular, nearly spilling out of her cami top as he groaned into her mouth.

They ended up tangled in each other's web again for two more months, having picked up right where they left off.

Going on dates again. Beach days, pool days, picnics, hikes, long drives, concerts and films.

Being all over each other, in each other's beds. In each other's arms.

Then he got another mission. Another 'don't know when I'll be back'.

Another 'I won't wait for you'.

But this time, when she said it, he saw through it.

He saw the look in her eyes. The exact opposite of the look of relief she had shown the day he came back into her life.

And he promised himself that when he did come back, he wouldn't reach out. That he wouldn't crawl his way back into her bed, her arms, her life.

If it was up to you now, you would be mine

I'm on the road more than I'm home, and still I find it's only you on my mind

He came back four months later. Early february.

And as he touched down and the helo lowered the back hatch, he stood there, with his arms crossed behind his back...

And he sought her out. As if expecting her to have somehow heard of him coming back, and would be there waiting.

When he left the base to hit up Hereford for a drink with his team, or his mates, he found himself missing the turn because the muscle memory to speed off to Tidworth was too much.

He'd be at the pub with his mates and look around, scanning the crowds of women with fake tans and skimpy dresses, as if look for those legs, that tummy, that set of tits.

You can't buy time with your money

And you love goin' to the beach whether it's cloudy or sunny

He'd go down to the shopping centre to get a new shirt or pants or shoes, and he'd pass by a window and take note of what in there he could buy to surprise her with.

He'd find a new restaurant she'd have wanted to try, a local shelter advertising a cat for adoption, her friends posting pictures with her on social media...

And he'd open her contact on his phone and his fingers would type a message...

Kat 😾 John: been thinking about you x

He couldn't reach out to her though, he couldn't. Not when she's that attached to him. Not when she needs him to stay, to be hers, to make promises and uphold them.

And you love drinkin' all your wine until it hurts in your tummy

You call me, "Honey, I'm tipsy and really all I want is for you to love me"

And then at 0200 hours, in one of the nights where he was out for a drink, his phone rang. He nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw her name on the screen.

"Yeah?" He greeted once he picked up, after having stepped out of the pub and standing in the dark and cold street under the pub awning.

"John..." She murmured, sounding whiny on the other side of the line.

"Kat..." He returned the greeting. "What's wrong?"

"I miss you." She whimpered into the line with a huff.

He knew that tone. It was the tone she always had when they'd go out together and she'd get pissed.

"We can't do this, Kat."

"John..." She whined.

Needy, soft, desperate to be held, to be kissed, to be fucked.

Fuck, how he missed her.

"Where are you?" He ended up asking her.

That's all it took. A drunk call, a messy drunk kiss as he helped her into bed, cuddling all night.

That's all it fucking took.

And then they ended up tangled in each other's web, once again.

Five months.

Dates, birthdays, a vacation overseas to Portugal, and sort of, but not really, pondering about moving in together.

And then he got called for another mission.

And as he sat her down again, this time, they breached it much differently than the other times.

Because this time, he had a timeline. Somewhere between six months and a year and a half.

"I'm not waiting for you." She told him directly, before he even had time to say anything.

He swore the ring box in his pocket was burning a hole through the fabric and onto his skin.

He just clenched his jaw and nodded. "That's your choice, then."

"It is." She replied. "Easier for the both of us."

"Right."

And so he went and, as assumed, he came back nine months later.

And he tried. He tried. He tried to fucking stay away. He really did...

For two fucking days after touching down.

But his hands itched to touch her, his arms longed to wrap around her, his body felt colt and alone in his twin bed in the barracks;

His ears itched to hear her mewl and croon as he worked her sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips;

His soul itched to argue with her, to watch and hear her fight him, to witness her preen when she delivered a devastating insult, only to be hit with one back, to watch the smirk on her lips and the shine in her eyes as they challenged each other;

He missed her sitting pretty in his passenger seat, he missed her pulling him by the arm in public like a dog on a lead, he missed her being vocal when someone pissed her off, he missed surprising her at work with food and drink, he missed being sent out at night because she ran out of fags, he missed keeping a change of clothes in her closet, and a spare key in his pocket, he missed the looks men would give him when he walked around with a beautiful woman like her hanging off his arm...

He missed the dulcets of her voice even when she raised it.

He missed the scent of her shampoo, and her perfume, and her lotion.

He missed the red lipstick stains she'd leave all over his face.

He missed her.

I know I need to tell you, I care before it's too late

Before someone steps to the plate

Before you decide not to wait

Before you decide not to chase

So, like a bloody coward, he showed up at her flat door at 2000 on a Saturday, finding Kathleen's roommate, Molly Cole.

"She's not home, John."

"Is she having a shift at the hospital? That's fine, I don't mind waiting all night if I have to."

"No, she's on a date."

He felt his blood run cold.

No way in fucking hell was he letting another man have Kathleen.

He didn't care how pathetic it made him look.

So, after getting the information of where she was and with whom, John took off after her.

The text pinged Kathleen's phone while she was halfway through talking to her date.

A nice bloke named Edward, with whom she'd been on dates a couple of times by now. He wasn't completely boring though she had yet to feel the spark.

Probably because every bloke she'd go on dates with between John leaving for deployment and coming back would always get compared to John.

Big Bastard 🙄: I'm outside. Leave him and let me take you home.

She glanced at it and only answered after asking for a moment from Edward, claiming it to be her roommate.

Kat 😾: I'm not leaving.

Big Bastard 🙄: Either you leave or I'll go in there and take you back myself.

Kat 😾: I'd love to see you try.

She didn't know what she was saying. Not really. She always loved to play games with John in the past, to taunt him and goad him and tease him until his buttons were pushed too far and he acted.

But they had never had a moment like this.

One where the door of the restaurant was pulled open by John, and he marched inside, still in uniform, right up to her table, eyes locked on her, like a predator zeroed in on its prey.

And she had no intentions of running away.

He came up to her and grabbed her by the forearm, yanking her up and out of her seat, causing the cutlery to rattle against the plate.

"What is this? What do you think you're doing?" Edward spoke up as he got up as well, as if he could somehow stop this from happening.

John shot a look at Edward, a glare that could make most men freeze in the spot, as he grabbed her coat and draped it over his free arm, same with her purse.

"Your date is over." John said bluntly as he stared at Edward. "She won't be calling you again."

Then he walked off, pushing Kathleen along toward the door, carrying her things for her, as he dragged her toward the car.

Kathleen was almost ashamed to admit how much she had enjoyed that display of caveman-like possession on his part.

Hell, it turned her on.

But that didn't mean that she would just lay down and take it.

No, John, despite everything, had no right to do this. To come waltzing back into her life as he so pleased, acting as if he had a claim to her.

And she was going to make sure he knew it.

As John got into the driver's seat after having helped her into the passenger's, and began driving off, she threw a hand at him and started hitting him in the arm.

"How bloody dare you?!" Kathleen raised her voice as she hit him repeatedly, fists slamming into his arm and shoulder in such a way that he knew in the morning he'd have bruises.

Heavy handed she always was. Just like him. She'd leave him bruises and bleeding, he'd leave her bruises and crying. After sex, that is.

"Stop that, Kat, I swear to God." John grunted as he moved his arm a bit to try and catch her hands and stop her from hitting him.

"What do you think you're doing, ruining my date like that and... kidnapping me like a... Neanderthal?" She continued scolding him and hitting him, dodging his attempts at grabbing her.

"I didn't kidnap you, shut your fucking gob for once, you cunt." He told her. "You're acting as if I threw you over my shoulder while you were kicking and screaming. I just walked ya out!"

"It doesn't matter! You have no fucking right to do that, I was enjoying myself!"

"Like hell you were!" John shouted as he suddenly hit the brakes, pulling the car over to the side of the secluded road they were on, and turning swiftly to face her. "Say that again."

Kathleen went quiet as she glared at him and him and her, chests rising and falling, breaths erratic.

"Go on. Say it again. Say you were enjoying yourself." He goaded her. "Say you were truly and whole-heartedly enjoying yourself. Say it and I'll take you back there."

She continued staring at him. She was normally a great liar, an excellent one, a great poker face, quick at coming up excuses...

And sure she had been enjoying herself... just fine during that date. Maybe... maybe not as much as she would with John. But better than the others.

But she knew she couldn't lie about it this time. So she just huffed and muttered a 'Fuck you, John'. Her brown eyes jumpy and erratic, flicking between his blue ones.

"Oh, is that how it is?" He asked her with a cocked brow as he pulled the break on the car and then leaned over the centre console toward her. "A 'fuck you' is what I get?"

"Yeah, it's what you get." She replied with a sharp nod, her brows furrowing in anger and frustration.

"Well, then, fuck you too, sweet'art." He replied as got right in her face, both of them staring deep into the other's eyes like they were seconds away from throwing fists.

"Oh, I already know everything about how you want me to go fuck myself, Jonathan." The brunette told him and, for once, her voice quivered for a moment.

Vulnerability. He never thought he'd see the day.

"I've never wanted that." John said while shaking his head. "You're the one that always says you're not going to wait for me and you don't care about me going on deployment, Kat. So who's really making who go fuck themselves?"

"I do that for you, you bloody fucking idiot." Kathleen spat in a vitriol tone as she glared at him. Then, she turned her face and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh what? Do you? And how's that?" John confronted her as he leaned his head over so he could get back in her line of sight. "By acting like you don't care about me? About us?"

Kathleen's head snapped toward him again, eyes widened. "Oh, so there's an 'us' now, is there?" She asked with nothing if not disbelief in her voice.

"There always was an us." John replied as he glared at her. "Never fucking wanted anyone else. And you can't tell me you've wanted anyone else either."

"Oh piss off. You think I don't know what you soldiers do when you're overseas?" She goaded and nodded upward in an act of challenge. "I'm an Army nurse, John, not a civvy."

"I won't lie and say I didn't get involved with other women overseas." John told her point blank. "Just like you can't day you didn't get involved with other men either." He raised his brows, which caused her her grimace and nod.

"But we both know what the fuck that was. And what it meant. And where it stands compared to us."

"Oh don't give me that bloody 'us' bullshit." She grumbled and rolled her eyes. "You don't like me all that much, and I don't like you all that much."

John reached forward and gripped her around the jaw, tugging her face toward him, before looking right into her eyes.

"I might not. And you might not." He nodded as he stared into her eyes. "But it drives me fucking mental to not have you with me. I think about you every fucking day."

Her lips parted for a moment as he continued. "I want you by my side and not some other wanker that you know doesn't do it for you the way I do." He warned her, his eyebrows setting low over his blue eyes, causing them to darken.

"You're such a bastard, you know that?" Kathleen told him, eyes widened and pupils blown as she glared into his eyes too.

"I know. And you're such a cunt." John grunted in reply.

They stared at each other silently for another moment before they both lunged forward and kissed, their hands finding their way amidst each other's hairs.

John slid his seat back as far as it could go and then lowered the backrest all the way until the headrest was flush against the backseat.

He flipped him and Kathleen over, breaking the kiss for just a moment in order to slot her beneath him on the driver's seat.

He parted her legs and rolled up the hem of her little black dress, exposing her backside and cunt to him again.

"Fucking slag, not even wearing underwear..." He grunted at the sight of her cunt, deliciously wet and glistening in the orange light provided by the street lamps above.

"Fuck you, John. I had a date." She complained.

"Of course, how could I forget... You never wear knickers for those, do ya? Never did with me." He goaded.

Slipping off her high heels, he tossed them haphazardly onto the backseat as he slotted one of her feet on the ledge of the driver's side window, the other over his shoulder.

"You're still in bloody uniform, you want to talk?" She pointed out, which earned her glistening cunt a smack from his calloused fingers. "Shut your gob."

Hissing, she rolled her eyes and lifted a hand at him, flipping him off, which caused him to growl under his breath and slap her pussy again, making her squirm beneath him.

"Bloody hell... I missed that cunt of yours..." He grunted as he ran his fingers over her folds affectionately, collecting some of the wetness before he slipped them into his mouth, for a taste of her, due to lack of a better position for it.

The groan that came from him after tasting her again was obscene. "How'd I go almost a whole year without tasting you?" He complained.

Kathleen bit her lip to hide that smirk that wanted to take over her lips, trying to act like she was still unbothered by it. By him.

"D'she miss me too, da'lin'?" John asked her with a cocked brow as he got busy undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

"No." Kathleen lied with a shrug. "Been keeping her awfully busy." She remarked nonchalantly.

"Right..." John said as he pulled down his boxer briefs, allowing for his hardened cock to spill out, too heavy to bounce back against his stomach, and instead hanging low, the head already brushing against her glistening cunt.

"But none of those knobheads you've been getting busy with are me, now, are they?" He teased.

And, before she could come up with a scathing, hurtful comment about how the others were better, which John could anticipate her doing, he plunged his cock balls deep into her in one swift motion, causing her to let out a startled, choked sound.

As he bottomed out inside her, feeling like he was home again, he leaned over her, pressing his weight forward on her leg and folding her over herself.

"That's it..." He grunted, pulling his hips back barely an inch before thrusting them forward again, causing a squeak to escape his woman's plump lips as his cock stretched her full.

"John..." She whined, one hand leaving a handprint on the glass window beside her, the other with the arm wrapped over the centre console of the car for support.

"Yeah, call my name." He demanded and hissed through his teeth before he pulled a few more inches back and then thrusted back in, his cock stretching her sinfully and his cock head pounding into her cervix.

Kathleen squirmed and gasped, feeling every inch of his thick cock push and pull across her gummy walls, his heavy balls beginning to steadily slap against her ass as he pounded into her.

One of his hands found its way around her neck, squeezing the sides as the other gripped the top of the driver's seat for support, allowing him to continue in his filthy avenue: taking her for all she's worth.

"Fuckin' ell, Katy..." He grunted as he looked down at her, the way her mouth hung open with desperate gasps and little whines escaping her.

Digging her nails into the leather cover of the console next to her, she whined in delight, already breathing heavy even if he wasn't actually squeezing her throat.

"I can never have enough of you." John grunted, his head rubbing against the plush interior ceiling of his car with each thrust of his.

"Look at me." He demanded, her brown eyes flittering to find his blue ones, the pupils wide and dark. "Keep your eyes on me..." He huffed.

Nodding, Kathleen continued making eye contact with John, though she was so overwhelmed by pleasure that she couldn't necessarily focus.

"Fuck... I swear... It's like you love when I call you a cunt... when we argue... You always get so fucking wet..." John grunted through clenched teeth and ragged breaths, his ears honing in on the filthy sound of his cock plunging into her dripping cunt.

"You'll be the bloody death of me, Kathleen..." He grunted as he leaned forward and caught her mouth with his, sucking her lips greedily.

Their tongues slipped out of their mouths and met in the middle, the both of them nearly drooling from the intense pleasure, eyes falling closed as they panted and moaned, muffling each other and trading saliva.

"I love you..." Kathleen moaned as she looked up into his eyes, which caused John to groan, eyes rolling back, before letting his head fall forward to hide his face in her neck.

"Fuck..." John moaned in her ear. "Tell me again... tell me you love me."

"I love you, John..." Kathleen whined, causing him to hiss again.

"Again."

"I love you..."

"Oh, fuck... I love you too..."

#ikea writes 💚#cod oc #oc: kathleen “brass” price #price x kathleen #john price x oc #cod fanfic #cod fandom #cod smut #john price smut

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luv-kakashi · 6 months ago

Text

One of us is dead

masterlist | chapter two

chapter one - running

Deep down, I've always been reaching for a hand. A hand to save me from drowning in this criminal underworld.

Kill. Collect money. Kill. Collect money

An endless cycle of bounty hunting, killing shinobi over and over again. The cold, unyielding leather of my seat sent shivers down my spine. A relentless echo of decisions made and paths taken, leading me to where I am right now.

Alone.

My blood-stained fingers trace the rim of the tea cup I held. Its warmth burned into my cold hands.

My hands: a constant reminder of all that I am—a cold-blooded murderer whose hands could never be cleansed of sin.

I'm sick of it. I'm tired of being called Kunoichi Thirteen, The Byakuya Princess. Being born into this world with no clear understanding of right from wrong. Killing those around me was all that I was taught.

My entire purpose was to be moulded into a perfect weapon for my father to take his revenge on the shinobi world. Revenge on those who abandoned the Uzumaki clan during their time of need when the Hidden Eddy Village was destroyed by shinobi.

Hatred and disdain poisoned the clan, who wished for the downfall of the Senju clan, and all those in Konohagakure.

Yet somewhere along the road to revenge, greed blinded their eyes.

2 years ago, I was sold to a bounty hunting organisation which goes by the name "The Byakuya". All so that my sad excuse of a father could line his pockets from my blood stained hands.

My father. The rest of my clan. They don't care that I am missing. As long as I wake up everyday and make money, they couldn't care less.

Each tick of the clock echoed in silence and with each tick the image of those I have massacred reverberated through my mind. The images of my most recent mission haunted my mind.

I had one job, an ambush mission. S-ranked Konoha ninja were commissioned to assassinate any Hidden Mist Village ninja who infiltrated the neutral area between the two Hidden Villages. Unknown to both, the neutral area was occupied The Byakuya.

My Job? Simply ambush both Konoha and Kiri ninja so that they do not discover The Byakuya headquarters and retreat.

But the Konoha nin were too stubborn for their own good.

One of them even went as far as abandoning the mission just to save his comrade from being hit from one of our assailants jutsus.

We watched as the Konoha shinobi retreated, now with one fewer among their ranks than when they began.

I don't even recognise myself. No matter how much I try to hide my actions. I'm still a killer.

But I don't want to kill anymore. I don't want to be used as a tool for revenge.

That's why I find myself in my cold and dingy room revising my plan to escape the Byakuya for good.

The clock ticked incessantly; each second felt like hammer on my nerves. It's 8.45 pm.

Most of the bounty hunters will have retired for the evening, leaving the corridors all empty. The fewer the people the eas-

"Boo! Earth to Y/N," a voice shouted down my ear, startling me from my thoughts. "Here," the man said as he placed a bowl of gray goop infront of me.

"Kakuzu?! What are you doing in my room?!"

"Eat or you'll be just bones, princess," Kakuzu said as he took a seat on my bed.

"I would rather starve than eat... that," I said as I watched the gray substance fall from the spoon like slime, "and please don't call me that Kakuzu-san."

"Still formal as ever princess. Anyways, what's got you so busy?" he asks with a hint of concern across his patchwork face.

"I think... No I will do it, I'm going to run."

"Y/N..." Kakuzu says as a sigh leaves his throat, "The Reaper will be pissed when she finds out."

"It's almost like that's the whole point," I chuckled rolling my eyes at him.

"Do you even have a plan? Where are you going to go? You don't even have any money, I swear all of your bounty money goes to your clan or something?" he rambles, his face becoming increasingly panicked.

"Do what you want Uzumaki," he scoffs.

"Awe Kakuzu-san you big softie, I know you don't mean that," I tease as I know he really wants me to be safe, "That being said, do you think I have time do one last petty thing? The byakuya has done nothing for me but rob me of my life."

"You gonna piss off The Reaper, princess? I'm listening," Kakuzu says with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"You think I have time to steal some precious weapons from Leader-sama?"

"What are you thinking?"

"The Swords of the Mist. We have three, no?" I pondered.

"Mhm... They'll surely go for alot. Enough for you to get on your feet and support yourself," Kakuzu calculates, "You're becoming greedy Y/N."

"What can I say, you've rubbed off on me," I say with a chuckle...

"Kakuzu, why have you stayed in the Byakuya for so long?"

"Money," he says without faltering, "I have nothing outside here, no family to run back to, no village, nothing. You are just a child with much left to live and experience. Whatever you do, don't do anything stupid out there."

"I'm not stupid!"

"I never said you were stupid, I said don't do anything stupid," Kakuzu says as he gets up from my bed and walks towards my door, "Good luck Uzumaki."

"Kakuzu... ," I whisper under my breath.

I get up from my desk and search my room for the nearest empty scroll.

I will no longer be a prisoner of the Byakuya.

I swiftly slip from my room and head towards the storage unit, where most of the prized weaponry belonging to the byakuya was kept.

I opened the scroll and placed it over the Swords of the Mist owned by the byakuya.

Samehada. Nuibari. Kabutowari.

"Sealing Jutsu: Storage Seal," I chanted as I watched the three swords become imbued with my own chakra. Just before the swords became completely sealed within the scroll, I bit my finger to inscribe the last parts of the jutsu with my own blood.

Blood Manipulation. It's a rare trait found within the Uzumaki Clan.

Since we have such large chakra reserves, reinforcing our blood with chakra creates sharper and more reinforced weapons.

Not to mention, the reserves of chakra can even be used to form more blood.

Now the scroll cannot be opened without my blood. I placed the scroll in my pocket and I continued my way to the back-exit of the hideout.

There really shouldn't be any-

"Halt! Who goes there?" a voice echoed throughout the dimly lit halls.

Shit, stupid Leader-sama and her patrol men.

"It's just me," I say as I slowly turn around to be met with a man in mask, painted with an eerie smile.

"Princess, what are you doing up so late?"

"Just carrying out some checks for Leader-sama. Don't worry yourself, I'll keep watch over this wing!" I say cheerily, mentally begging the patrol man to leave any minute now.

"Are you sure princess? Promise you won't tell Leader-sama?" he asks.

"Of course I won't silly!" I reassure him with a smile. As much as I hated the nickname, being heralded as the Byakuya princess comes with its perks. No one dares to suspect anything I do since The Reaper holds me in such high regard for my blood manipulation.

Now the only obstacle in my way are the door guards. I could cause a distraction but that would bring too much attention to the scene. My only choice is to deal with the guards myself.

Prying the door ever so slightly, I slip out into the outside.

"Wind style: smoke dome." I chant and thick wall of smoke emerged between me and the door guards.

"Who's there?" one of the guards chokes out.

"Blood Manipulation: Chakra Spear." I say, as I aim the blood spears towards the guards as it impales them.

Compress.

My blood slowly seeps into their circulation compressing all of their vessels, from small capillaries to the carotid and aortic arteries, causing the guards to fall to the floor gasping for air.

Release.

The jutsu shouldn't kill them. But they certainly won't wake up anytime soon.

Gathering my composure, I run straight through the densely packed forest contemplating my options once I find safety.

"Child, that's a lovely kekkei genkai you have there." A man said as he perched on a tree branch behind me, stopping me in my tracks. "I don't think I've ever met a ninja who can use blood manipulation."

Alarmed and now panicking, I tightened my grip on my kunai, wondering where on earth this person came from. A hybrid of a walking venus flytrap and a chewed dog toy looms above me, lurching on a tree.

"Who are you? And why are you here?" I retorted.

"I'm a nobody and I was wondering what a talented girl like you is doing. Are you going somewhere?"

"I don't tell strangers shit and stop avoiding my question, You don't work for the Byakuya so why are you here?"

"My, my, you sure are a feisty one. I'm here to simply recruit new members for my organisation and we could do with a kunoichi of your calibre."

"No."

"Well that was straight to the point, but surely you're not stupid, Y/N Uzumaki."

"Oh wow, big scary tree thinks I'll join his clique just because he knows my name. Go away please."

"It's clear you have no intention of joining but let me offer you a proposition instead." Said a new voice.

A voice sharper than any blade I've ever wielded. A voice which penetrated my body like a force of a million needles piercing my bones.

"There's nothing worth any value you can offer me." I turned around to meet this daunting voice, to be met with a masked man leaning against the tree t he venus flytrap man emerged out of.

"Oh I think you should hear me out, Kunoichi Thirteen or should I say Byakuya Princess."

My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach as a million thoughts raced through my mind. How does he know about my name from when I was in the academy, or about my life in the Byakuya?

"You're clearly on the run from the Byakuya but where will you go?" the masked man added,

"Surely you know you are quite well-known throughout the neighbouring regions as the red-haired kunoichi with the branding 13 on her neck. The kunoichi who can manipulate her own blood. Tell me where will you go? Back to the family who sold you off?" he chuckled as he spat in my face.

I was convinced that all life ceased to thrive after hearing his words. If I hadn't felt scared before, I certainly did now. This stranger whose known me mere minutes, knew everything about me.

"Maybe I will go back, why do you care?" I said defensively, my hands trembling as I tried to maintain my grip on my kunai.

"I think you should hear me out. You don't want to do this the hard way."

"What baseless threats. Excuse me, I have to make my way back to my family," I spat, as I watched the masked man turn his back to me as he walked into the dark abyss.

"Say hi to your sister for me!" the venus fly-trap chuckles.

Shit.

Whoever they were, they weren't good news. How did they know I was running back to my sister?

Whoever they were, they knew too much about me. It was suffocating.

Regardless, It's not stopping me from returning to the only place I have ever called home as I continue running in the direction of the Hidden Rivers Village.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- Here's the first chapter my lovelies!

As I was re-reading this chapter I started to overthink a lot of what I have written. Overthinking is a bitch 🤚🏽.

Let me know what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback.

Loving you always, Suri🎀

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bravetimetravellingaussie · 6 months ago

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And it feels like home

Chapter 1

Summary: Peter Parker is minding his own business when along comes the merc with a mouth, shenanigans will ensue

Warnings: foul language, it's got deadpool in it? I think that works as it's own warning

Possible spoilers, Spider-man: No Way Home, and Deadpool and Wolverine

"Where are you getting the guns from?" Spider-man stood on the edge of a towering building, holding onto a a thin white piece of web, from the end of which hung a flailing and terrified criminal.

"Agh!! Shit shit shit shit shit! I don't know! I don't fucking know! Shit! Please! Come on man, let me go!"

"If you say so." Spider-man let go of the web for a second, letting the man fall a couple of metres before catching the web again.

"OKAY LOOK MAN I'LL FUCKING TELL YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT TO KNOW JUST PLEASE PUT ME BACK ON THE GROUND BACK ON THE GROUND PLEASE DONT DROP ME!"

"Thought so."

Since the disappearance of Peter Parker, the man behind the mask didn't have to put in any effort to make himself sound older. He also scarcely had to ask the same question more than twice. He rarely had the patience to ask a third time, and he could barely find the willpower to restrain himself from violence by the fourth.

It scared him sometimes how much he yearned for an excuse to punch people these days.

Peter Parker shifted the sleeve of his suit to check his watch as he slung through the city on his way back home after a long night of doing what he hoped was good enough to be considered superhero work.

3 am.

Peter groaned. He could feel how tired he was going to be for the rest of the day already.

"I fucking hate Mondays."

"Welcome to McDonald's, how can I help you?" Peter could barely keep his eyes fully open they were so dry.

"Hi, Tom, I'd like someone to drop a skincare routine that actually works for me and to get a job that pays well enough for me to move out of my mom's house so I can have fun time in the night time with my boyfriend without her screaming at us to shut up already. I'd move in with my girlfriend but she's abroad right now and she's having some friends house sitting for her. I'd understand if she didn't trust me with her plants or something, but she doesn't even have plants! I think she might just not trust me. I got her shot one time and I don't think she's over it yet, even though she never got shot because of me, because I went back in time and fixed that."

Peter glanced at his name tag that had 'PETER' written on it in bold letters. Then he looked back up at the man wearing leather from head to toe. It might have been red originally, but Peter couldn't help but wonder if it had been stained red by the multitude of wounds the man had all over his body, bullet wounds and stab wounds, slashes a gashes. The worst of which seemed to be the man's freshly amputated hand.

"McDonald's welcome help you how?"

"Oh, right, I'm sorry, your customer service voice is so soothing and therapeutic. Shame they don't let you speak in your mother tongue, they know it'd be too much for the world to handle." The man leaned his elbows on the counter and rested his head in his hand, kicking one leg up.

Blood dripped from the man's wrist down onto the counter, but Peter was so sleep deprived all he could think about was how he was gonna have to clean that up.

"Alright! I'd like a big meal, big mac with fries and coke. I do mean the drinking kind, unfortunately, damn that Feige guy, Blind Al has a bone to pick with him after the bullshit she had to go through for Deadpool and Wolverine." The man chuckles. "You know how it is."

Peter would have said, no, I really don't, but for all the weird shit he'd encountered in his life, this was just about the strangest.

"I'd pay for this, but I don't carry my wallet in my work pants. I think this is gonna have to be on the house, you'll do that for me, wontcha Tommy, my bestest friend in the whole wide multiverse?" The man didn't want for an answer before taking the paper bag that had just been placed on another counter and running out of the store, waving at Peter through the glass once he was outside.

"Sir, that- sir that wasn't... That wasn't your order, sir- that was not your order," one of Peter's coworkers said quietly beneath her breath as she stared after the man in red.

Everyone else in the McDonald's seemed to have been similarly entranced. Somewhere a child was crying.

"I'm taking a sick day," Peter said to no one in particular.

#deadpool #spider man #spiderman #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #poolverine #there will be poolverine #deadpool & wolverine #this is my second time writing fanfic and my first time sharing it so #feedback welcome

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lily-radiance · 11 months ago

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Random fic headcanons and ideas:

TWD season two Daryl Dixon with an S/O who's in trouble

Both loners

MC is not from Georgia

Early 20s MC dating mid-30s Daryl

She knows how to shoot archery bows but not crossbows

Touch-starved

Andrea considers MC like another younger sibling

Everyone advises Daryl not to go for you and vice versa

When Rick, Hershel, and Glenn go to the bar, MC accompanies them. Daryl only goes when Lori tells him that you are in danger.

Carol gives him advice

Andrea and Lori warn him if he breaks your heart, he's a dead man.

RE4 Leon with a high school best friend who became an Umbrella Scientist.

MC was initially training for the force with Leon but dropped out to find another passion

She wants to help people but gets pulled into Umbrella’s dark research

Leon caught a glimpse of her at the end of RE2 but couldn't be sure if it was her.

Ashley doesn't trust MC, but Leon ignores it

Both have combat experience and have undergone physical conditioning

MC does not have Las Plagas

Krauser spars with MC, causing Leon to jump in.

Krauser asks Leon to choose between you and Ashley.

IDK if Leon would be sweet here or a Yandere.

Arkham Movie Trilogy Jonathan Crane, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy x Psychiatrist reader

This story is currently in progress!!!

Reader works at Arkham Asylum

Friends with Bruce Wayne

Knows about his alter ego and occasionally helps him solve cases

Reader believes Bruce should do more with his money to benefit Gotham

Combines Heath Ledger’s Joker with Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn

The reader was in the same major as Harley in college, and the two dated briefly

Harley constantly teases the reader when she catches wind of a new crush

You try to ignore her, but eventually can't as she warns you that the doctor is deadlier than he lets on

You brush it off, too fond of your coworker to accept the notion that he can hurt you

Bruce doesn't like your new counterpart, picking up a destructive energy that screams guilty

In defiance, you decide to bring your beaux to one of many parties and get on your friend’s last nerve.

A kiss is shared in front of the crowd, some murmuring complaints while others smile. You wish to stay in Jonathan’s arms, but the moment is interrupted as Bruce pulls you aside

Naturally, two upper-class socialites fighting in front of an audience calls for bad publicity, but not on your part

“If you keep this up, you'll become a sewer rat criminal just like the rest!”

Luckily, you decided to wear a few rings to accentuate your outfit. Not only do you look stunning, but you reel back and land a brutal slap on his cheek. Yet that doesn't hurt as much as your following words.

“How dare you, Bruce. How dare you scrutinize what you can never understand. Thomas and Martha would be ashamed of you, and you, of all people, know they were difficult to rattle. Next time you need anything, ask someone who gives a shit.”

Your friend has to watch in shock as you exit the home, arm linked with a man he despises. Even in disagreeable situations, you manage to exhibit grace and elegance. It's the beginning of a new era and the opportunity to forget the complex life of the wealthy.

“Is your hand alright, (Y/N)? Better yet, are you okay?”

Never underestimate a psychiatrist to get into your head. He walks you to the car, watching your lips tremble in the darkness. You meet his stare, and one thought crosses your mind: kissing him sounds lovely. The doctor is efficient at picking up social cues, leaning down to meet your lips, and extinguishing the frigid temperature.

“As long as I'm with you, Jonathan. I can do anything with you by my side, no matter the risks.”

I want to make the reader an anti-hero vigilante with the “Grim Reaper” theme. Supernatural powers in Batman don't really occur so I will brainstorm. Most villains are the work of genetic experiments gone wrong so maybe I'll work with that?

JD(Heathers 1989) dating the reader

You are friends with Veronica and the despicable Heathers

Instead of going along with their charades, you often argue and challenge Heather Chandler

She constantly threatens your social standing but knows that the campus would easily choose you over her.

Purple color coded

JD can't help but admire your tenacity as you begrudgingly follow Veronica to the table, attempting to stop the girl from doing Heather’s bidding.

When you walk over, he seems uninterested in the girl speaking to him, instead transfixed on your disinterested attitude. Unknowingly, you lick your lips, tasting lip gloss and wiping some glitter away. When you lock eyes, you swear your heart stops beating, drawn to his carefree attitude.

Veronica says a few words to you, trying to convince you to let her administer the lunch poll

As she talks, you playfully roll your eyes, causing the delinquent to smirk in your direction. He hides a chuckle from breaking out, finding your careless joking funny given the circumstances. When Veronica walks off, it allows you to sit across from the newcomer, albeit a little too eagerly.

“Mind if I ask for a smoke? I'm dying from boredom.”

“Sure, I could never say no to a girl like you. I’m guessing you’ve been trying to break from those devils all day.”

He lights your cigarette as you take it between your teeth, enjoying the visual more than he lets on.

“It's all thanks to you, my knight in obsidian armor.”

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months ago

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Cradle To Grave: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Summary: Your experience in prison isn't what you thought it would be. You're feeling everything and you don't know if you'll be okay when you finally come out of it. Meanwhile, the team notices a change in Spencer as he tries his best not to miss you too much.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

"You don't really understand human nature unless you know why a child on a merry-go-round will wave at his parents every time around, and why his parents will always wave back." - Journalist William D. Tammeus

Sunlight shines through the crack in the curtains making you wince. You turn over to avoid the direct stream of light and end up facing Spencer's bare chest. He's still sleeping from the rough night you two had. You two couldn't sleep so you stayed up playing chess and listening to music. You've only got a few hours of sleep and you're already waking up.

There are rare moments in your relationship where you have complete peace and solace, so you take this opportunity to admire your boyfriend's body. He's always been skinny and lean but he has muscles that aren't showy like Derek's are. Freckles dance across his chest that look like constellations the more you look at them. His skin is pale since he doesn't tan much but you've always admired his milky skin.

You reach out and lightly trace the freckles, watching the constellation come to life in front of you. Your eyes move up his chest to his face where he looks the most peaceful. His sharp jawline and high cheekbones look relaxed as he sleeps. This is the only moment in which the world isn't weighing heavily down on Spencer. He is completely free to be whoever he wants at this moment, even if he is asleep.

Spencer stirs in his sleep and opens one eye to look into yours. He smiles at the love you hold in them. He truly is so lucky to know you, to hold you, and to love you. God, he has such a nice smile. You lean up to kiss him but something breaks you out of paradise.

"Rise and shine, inmates!"

You open your eyes and almost cry when you realize that was a dream. Gone is the peaceful morning with Spencer and a dull grey ceiling replaces it. The complaints of other prisoners fill your ears as you try to hold onto the moment you wish you were in. Your bottom lip wobbles as a single tear falls from your eye, but you push your feelings down and get up to start your day.

It's been hard at the BAU without you around. Everyone can feel the lack of your presence but no one is saying anything about it. Hotch is still working privately but he can't do much without Strauss knowing about it. He has to take baby steps no matter how agonizing it feels. Hotch is in JJ's office as they go through the different kinds of files that are piled up on her desk.

"What's next?"

"Baton Rouge thinks they have a white supremacist problem."

"What's your take?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'd like to hear it," Hotch nods.

"We're dealing with an individual, not a group."

"Why?"

"The angry letters. The writer switches pronouns from plural to singular. 'We are a heavily armed militia' followed by, 'I will be forced to take action'."

"Good. Send it back to the police with our analysis." Hotch's phone rings and he looks at the message he gets. "Keep up the good work, JJ. Excuse me." He leaves her office to go to his own where Chief Strauss is waiting for him. "Chief Strauss."

"Aaron. We need to talk. Close the door." Hotch sighs silently and closes the door behind him, ready for whatever talking she is about to give him. "I want to talk about Y/N for a second. I've been kept in the loop of her case, and she was denied bail. She is to be in prison awaiting trial. I am here because the board is saying you're partially to blame for this. They said it's the way you've been leading her and this team."

"She didn't do it," Hotch narrows his eyes.

"Regardless, it's giving the board to question your leadership skills. I am terribly sorry about the situation you're in with Foyet, but I am concerned it's hindering your ability to properly lead this team."

"My personal problems and what's happening with Y/N have not and will not affect my ability to lead this team."

"I think it has. I've seen the letters you've sent in about Y/N. You praise her leadership skills and the ability to correctly address a situation. I know you admire her work, but she can't very well be put in your place, now can she?"

"Put in my place?"

"The board wants you to step down as Unit Chief, and to give the job to someone who is willing to do it right. I have other divisions who will greatly benefit from your skills--"

"What if I already have someone else in mind? Yes, I would have liked Y/N to be in my spot eventually, but I believe Derek Morgan will do a phenomenal job at it. He's shown leadership skills and can make tough decisions when no one wants to. Will you allow me to prove it with the case that comes in?"

"Of course," Strauss nods. "I will contact the board about your decision. I'm sorry it has to come this way, but it's for the best."

Hotch can't say anything else and watches her leave. JJ has been watching from the window from the hallway the entire time, but Hotch doesn't see her. He puts his head in his hands and rests his elbows on his desk. Everything is so fucked up right now, he doesn't know how to act or what to think.

"Hotch?" JJ asks and knocks on his door.

"Yes?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything is fine. Thank you."

When JJ is gone, Hotch logs into his computer and gathers up some files he knows Derek should look over. He sends them to Derek's work email as soon as he can before the rest of the team shuffles in. Derek's phone blows up as soon as he steps foot in the elevator. Email after email from Hotch has him concerned that something happened. Spencer is already at work by the time he arrives, and Derek sets his jacket over his chair in confusion.

"Reid, did I miss something?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hotch is sending me all kinds of emails."

Spencer logs onto his computer but doesn't have any emails from Hotch.

"Not from me."

Derek sees Hotch in his office so he heads right to the source.

"Hotch, what's so important you couldn't send it to the rest of the team?" Derek asks and holds up his phone.

"I just needed a second pair of eyes."

"I'll review it right now. Just give me an hour."

"That's not necessary."

JJ pops her head in with a nod.

"We're ready." Hotch and Derek meet the rest of the team inside the briefing room. Everyone passes by your chair cautiously knowing you're not going to be there to sit in it. "Kristie Taylor is a runaway drug addict who was reported missing from Farmington, New Mexico three years ago. Yesterday, she turned up on a freeway outside of Rio Rancho."

"She was sexually assaulted based on the ligature marks on her wrists and ankles. She was asphyxiated but the looks of it," Spencer notes.

"Three victims in five years. All the women are connected by marks. He likes chains. He's a definite sexual sadist. He sticks to his type which are blonde sixteen to nineteen year olds."

"He hangs onto them for a while, too," Rossi points out. "There is an average of two years between abducting them and killing them."

"He has a low body count and a long time frame. This guy's in control of his urges."

"Too controlled," Rossi corrects Derek. "Sadists need new victims and new ways to torture. There are a lot of guys out there who like chains. Are we sure this is the same unsub?"

"Kristie's autopsy report also indicates a second connection between these victims," JJ answers. "She was pregnant and had given birth. Very soon after, the unsub killed her."

"How soon after?"

"Minutes."

"This unsub isn't your typical sexual sadist. We usually see captivity and assault. What we haven't seen is this signature, the role he forces these women to fulfill before he kills them. Motherhood. Wheels up in twenty."

Everyone gathers their things but Spencer stays behind until Hotch is one of the only ones left in the briefing room.

"Have you heard anything about Y/N?" He swallows hard.

"Not much that will help. They're being very reserved with this case. They think they have the person who did it. They're not going to want to let her go so easily. They're putting up many fights." Spencer grows worried for you and Hotch touches his shoulder in comfort. "As I said before, I am working privately. I just can't be so open about it."

"Okay," Spencer nods.

The conversation continues when everyone is on the plane headed to New Mexico.

"So, why would a sexual sadist make women carry his children?" Emily asks once everyone is settled in.

"Gary Heidnik kept a harem in a dungeon. His goal was to create a large family as a replacement for his own broken home. Josef Fritzl kept his daughter in a cell in his own house, and they had several kids together. Squalid conditions are part of a control fantasy these men had. If he's keeping these women in a similar location, he'd need a lot of privacy," Spencer explains.

"He probably built it himself. It makes him good with his hands."

"Why blondes, and what significance do they have to him?" Hotch asks.

"Maybe the woman who rejected him or the woman who wouldn't bear his children?" Emily theorizes.

"If that were true, he'd be the same age as these girls--late teens. This unsub is too skilled for that."

"His own mother, then?" JJ adds. "She could be a runaway, just like these victims."

"Which makes his compulsion Psych 101--killing his mother over and over again for giving birth to him."

"Why wait until after she gives birth? Now he has a body and a baby to get rid of," Rossi asks.

"That troubles me, too," Hotch nods. "We found the mothers but not the infants."

"I hate to say this, but what if the women are just a means to an end? What if the babies are really the ones he's exploiting?" Emily wonders.

"If Kristie just surfaced, it means he has her baby right now."

"JJ, check with the parents and see if there are any similarities in the runaways' patterns and where the unsub's finding them. Reid and Prentiss, go to the latest dump site. We need to look at victimology. How he treats these women in the final moments of their lives might tell us what he's doing to the children."

When the plane lands, Derek, Rossi, and Hotch head over to the ME's office to look at Kristie's body. She is the only victim to have surfaced, so she is the only one who can provide answers if the unsub was careless.

"Doctor, you wrote in your report that Kristie had had several miscarriages. How was that evident?" Hotch asks.

"There were a number of abrasions in her uterine lining. Around the third trimester, her water would break."

"She never carried them to term?"

"Last time, she did. There was a high level of pitocin in her blood. It's an artificial hormone. You give it to induce labor."

"She was on a tight schedule, then. If she lost the baby, he would get her pregnant again immediately."

"Childbirth is tough enough. Imagine if your life depends upon it," Rossi scoffs.

"All three moms had records with drug abuse and drunk and disorderlies. What's more interesting is what he does after he kidnaps them. This is Kristie two weeks before she was abducted."

Derek shows a picture of what Kristie looked like, and compared to her body now, she was taken care of. Before, she looked like a drug addict who was homeless but her body now, albeit dead, looks a lot healthier.

"He got her healthy, well-fed, and off the drugs."

Rossi grabs the file on her and flips through the papers.

"Not completely. What are these drugs in Kristie's system?"

"Tamoxifen, Metoclopramide, Domperidone, and Progesterone. They're all prenatal meditation. The first two help carry the baby to term, and the last two help with lactation."

"What kind of sexual sadist gives his victims prenatal drugs?" Hotch asks.

"The kind who takes care of the kids he's having. He gets his rocks off killing the moms, but the babies he protects."

"You think he's keeping them?" Hotch asks Rossi.

"Yeah. If he despises the moms, he'd despise their children. New Mexico is right on the border with a lot of human trafficking going on. He could be breeding."

"Call Child Protection Services. We need to find out about existing black markets for infants."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

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to-thelakes · 1 year ago

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What do you think about Luke Alvez just staring at the reader doing their makeup bc he doesn't know how to describe what he feels but the reader just thinks they don't look good

okay, i saw this and immediately SO MANY THOUGHTS!

first off, luke would ABSOLUTELY GAWK, like that man is a SIMP, S.I.M.P, you probably wouldn't even notice but he would just be sitting on the bed and admiring you

it wasn't even anything you were doing specifically, but the way that you were able to so flawlessly apply the make-up, it enhanced the features that he already loved? he would just be in awe of you

like i think whether you two were dating or it was simply like a flirty vibe, he would act the same, luke is such a softie and that would absolutely translate into how much he adores his partner

and then when you ask him whats wrong or what he's looking at, he would FUMBLE, and fumble hard, he'd just sort of stare dumb-founded and try to find the words but absolutely have no idea what to say

luke gets smitten really easily and he usually shows it in how he acts/smiles, whatever, but he is really bad with his words sometimes, like he'll be thinking you're a god/goddess among humanity but will not be able to articulate it because he is simply speechless at you

then when you start to get anxious, thinking that the make-up is bad or that you look bad, he will jump to tell you that he thinks you are the most beautiful person alive, like he would shower you with compliments

if you were dating, he'd get you to come and sit with him on the bed and he'd kiss you and stroke your hair and tell you that he thinks you are perfect and that he thinks that you look perfect with your make-up how it is but if you're not happy, he can let whoever you're going to see know you'll be a little bit late and give you the time to fix it

if you were friends/crushing on each other, he'd tell you that you look gorgeous, shower you with compliments and promise you that he would tell you if he thought you looked bad (but you didn't so he wouldn't)

luke definitely is one that understands anxiety/depression/PTSD and most mental illnesses i'd say especially after he returned from Iraq and that obviously left him really mentally wounded, then joining the fugitive taskforce and the BAU, he is the king of being understanding and empathetic

also, he's a profiler so even if you hadn't said anything, he would have noticed that you were feeling insecure and would have coaxed you through it to make sure you were feeling okay before either of you stepped foot out of thee house

he is a very sweet soul and he would be an absolute simp in this scenario while also being very comforting and eventually being able to get his words together so he could tell you that he thought you were gorgeous

and i know this wasn't specifically requested but i may have written a little fluff piece because i was inspired which is below! but i just wanted to say, thank you for sending this in, i am having so much fun just being in love with luke alvez recently and so any excuse i have to think about him is one i will take, especially considering where i'm at in my watch of criminal minds is a little rough (13x15)

At some point, you had admitted to Luke that you hadn’t been out out for ages. The last boyfriend you had had was awful and he had never treated you to anything. Luke wasn’t going to let that slide and so, the two of you had arranged to go out for a meal. You weren’t sure if it was a date but Luke had told you to dress up nicely. So you did.

But when he came over with the bouquet of flowers and dressed up in a crisp white shirt, you weren’t ready. You had told him that you were running behind because you had to deal with a friend crisis so when he knocked, you had only just gotten out of the shower.

Your hair had still been dripping wet but he was patient with you. He understood and he kissed you on the cheek and took the flowers to put them in a vase. That gave you time to head back into your room and you dried and styled your hair before he appeared at the door.

“Where do you want 'em?” He asked, holding up the bouquet. You bit your lip, looking around the room before gesturing to your nightstand.

“They’ll be fine there,” You said. He nodded and placed them down. He then sat down on your bed as you faced the mirror on your desk. You were using your phone’s flashlight to light up your face as you reached out for your makeup. You had assumed that Luke had taken his phone out and was scrolling so you let the comfortable silence roll over the both of you.

But he wasn’t on his phone. Luke was sat on the bed, watching you apply the make-up through the mirror. He wanted to tell you how pretty you looked, how gorgeous you were - with or without make-up - but the words were stuck in his throat. So, he just silently admired you as you put foundation, blush, concealer, and highlighter on. It was a simple look and you had decided against eyeshadow considering that your dress was on the bolder colour spectrum.

It was only when you picked up the mascara from the drawer that you really noticed that Luke was looking at you. He seemed mesmerised and you sent him a smile through the mirror.

“What?” You asked softly, untwisting the mascara. You then lifted the wand to your eye and began to apply it but Luke was still silent. It was making your stomach twist in anxiety, “Does it not look right?” You quickly asked, quickly slipping the mascara wand back in the tube to turn around to look at him, “Do you… not like it? I just wanted to go for a simpler look because my dress is kind of bold. Is it bad?” Luke was frowning now and he shook his head, clearing his throat.

“No, no, you look beautiful,” He insisted but the familiar self-consciousness had begun to creep in. You swallowed the lump that was crawling its way up your throat and turned back to the mirror. You glanced at the make-up wipes, wondering if it was better to just start over, “Hey.” You glanced up at him and his face was still set into a frown.

Before you had the chance to tell him that it was okay and that you could just start again or change, he had stepped up behind you. He rested his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them softly before he knelt down so he could look at you through the mirror.

“You look beautiful, carina,” He repeated and you honestly didn’t believe him, “I didn’t know how to tell you and I look at you and you’re breathtaking. Please, finish your mascara and let me take you out.” His tone was soft and you felt yourself smile. You turned back to look at him, practically grinning ear-to-ear. Part of you didn’t believe him but the bigger part of you knew had never seen him so earnest and that bigger part of you was winning.

“Thank you,” You whispered. He smiled and then leant up and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Anytime,” He retorted before he stepped back and sat down on the bed. He still couldn’t quite put into words how much he adored you. He felt completely starstruck when you had opened the door and it had taken everything in him not to fumble his words like a teenager with his high-school crush. He just hoped that he would be able to tell you how much he loved you. He just needed to find the words.

#luke alvez x you #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #luke alvez drabble #drabble #fluff #ruby rambles #reader-insert

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