#if that's the case sorry for stealing the idea it's just too good

[infiniteorangethethird]

story idea: soulmate au except instead of being about "love uwu" it's about mc realizing they aren't feeling anything towards their assigned soulmate and taking said soulmate on a journey to confront the Soulmate Gods bc clearly there must've been some mistake made on their part, only to realize along the way that a) they're actually aro and b) the whole soulmate system is just a ploy by the gods to keep humanity oppressed under their control so now their goal changes from finding a better soulmate to dismantling amatonormativity the soulmate system as a whole

[mythvoiced]

@theimpalpable | the GBEP

Another glance at his front. He can't help it. They hadn't exactly signed up as extra aid to keep watch to this area with the idea they'd be getting fashion tips from random strangers he'd almost threatened to apprehend. To stutter a little through their thought process and reactions seems sensible enough.

Also because he's somewhat starting to doubt he's talking to an actual person. Or... a living one, at least. Which opens the door to a completely different set of problems, which he'd truly rather not step through today.

Or tonight, rather.

Or at any point in time, actually.

Calloused hand flattens the front of his clothes until his fingers curl around the hem of the bland shirt he's wearing under his jacket, lifting it up to stare down at it as though the fabric could materialise a visual representation of the colours just described.

They look up.

What an odd fella. Stiff, somewhat, but not really. Stiff in a way gentlemen are in Western shows, controlled like people of the elite, intellectuals, and superior to the smaller ones who don't have fine shoes, nor can they afford them. At the same time, though, he doesn't... seem... particulary arrogant? That small extra weight to self-importance that would have made assessing him easier.

His tone of voice, too, conversational, if, again, a little... stiff.

Though Seok-ju feels that's not quite the right word.

He blinks, tilts their head. "I'm... I'll be honest, I'm not quite sure what 'burgundy' and 'hazelwood' look like," a smile breaks out on their lips, like the sun through hazy, stern clouds. Not quite sheepish. Humorous, almost. "I like my fashion and my style, but... not an expert on the finer details like the actual proper names of colours."

"So," Seok-ju clears their throat, a casual little human error, tick, more than the actual need for it, "when you say replicate... You're a tailor? Or someone from that industry?"

Well, that would explain... wait, that would explain a lot actually. Fine suit, fine demeanour, fine everything. Seok-ju shoves his hands into his back pockets and relaxes with his elbows jutted out, like moments from replicating a mother scolding a silly child.

Although, the naturalism makes him wonder if 'industry' is the right word to apply here.

"Some sort of patrol, yeah," they concede, shifting their weight to rotate the stiffening joints of one of their ankle. Fine manner of speech and apparently very dedicated to his craft, which could both make him terribly innocent or... well... be a very good cover.

"It's nothing too serious, though, you don't have to worry. Nothing dangerous at least," a shrug. A kid missing is always a serious thing, even though too many in the precinct would argue that 19 years don't make a guy a kid, and he's a guy anyway, whatever could possibly happen to him.

Maybe that's why they'd had to volunteer. South Korea and its oh so inclusive laws for missing people. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have seen a young male-presenting adult most likely wearing a Doosan Bears baseball shirt, beige school uniform trousers, white running shoes and a sports bag?" A tilt of his head to the side again and tragically for himself, the face he makes is doubtful enough that he can't help recognise that some of his fellow officer's thoughts might have begun slipping into their head. "About this height," lifts his hand to hover, flattened palm facing the ground, an arm width over his head. "Potentially in distress, appearing lost, or unapproachable. Maybe in the company of someone else?"

[uzurakis]

can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)

TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.

n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.

just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.

you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.

megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.

"you look… um, really pretty."

"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"

you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."

the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”

GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"

you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”

"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."

a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.

then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."

you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"

gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.

ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.

“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”

your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."

his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness—is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”

as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you’re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."

“you’re too sweet, yuu,”

"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”

NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.

his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.

"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.

he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.

you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."

nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"

you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.

GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”

“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.

he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.

he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”

you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”

he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."

@uzurakis

[dedfly]

Before book of Bill finally comes out I feel like sprinkle you with silly headcanons I have for Bill x reader. I mean I should dump this nuke before the book crossed out all my headcanons am i right guys? No? Well too late

And and I need to tell you guys my favorite genre of Bill x Reader fanfics then he suddenly live at your house or something like that because man... What are you doing in my house go party or something

So it's basically living with Bill headcanons more than actuall romantic ones but there is folks who did it better than me

Oh and yes sorry for any mistakes I proof read it but grammar is not my strongest point

Bill as your roomate

Bill x reader headcanons

∆ As I established earlier Bill now your roommate.

∆ How? Well it just happened, deal or it's past weirdmageddon it's doesn't really matter

∆ Well after weirdmageddon he would be more wary and pissy that's for sure. But less obnoxious

∆ Bill is the kind of guy who will say, “I borrowed your car,” after he already drained almost all the fuel from it and give you back the keys as if nothing had happened.

∆ or just throw the keys at your head

∆ And miss

∆ Now your car keys are lost somewhere among the trash

∆ Basically the guy is destructive and does shit simply because he's bored (what a shoker /s)

∆ He is bored constantly so it's a disaster

∆ He can tear up the wallpaper and try to pull some bricks from the wall. And that's the best case scenario

∆ Downald him a Sims 2 he would love it

∆ Especially how easily this game crushes

∆ He would eat spoiled or moldy food and comment it with only "It's taste funny"

∆ And yes if you tell him it's expired he just continue eating while you tell him not to

∆ He knew

∆ Literally stealing your food and drinks while you eating

∆ Good thing he does this few times a week at best

∆ Doesn't pay rent

∆ Doesn't help around the house

∆ Terrorized your neighborhood

∆ Terrorizing you

∆ Hides in whatever his flat ass could fit

∆ Brings in all sorts of rubbish as gifts

∆ and yeah his usual "gifts" are more like like a severed head, but here just really garbage

∆ He found a broken bottle on the street? Present

∆ Roadkill? Present

∆ This dead rotten fish reminded him of you he bring it home

∆ Charming

∆ He might even just spit out a live rat into your lap

∆ Ew.

∆ Watches you sleep. Like a creep he is

∆ But he does this with everyone so it's not like it counts

∆ Overall experience? Terrible

∆ Do i love this idea? Absolutely

Would I upload more? No idea

Well probably just little things i find in my notes

[cupidkenji]

ghost in the machine

Pairing: Unsub!Spencer Reid x Agent!Fem!reader CW: Fluff, longing, mild angst, one paragraph with heavy implications of sex, cursing, mentions of reader being in a car accident, mentions of suicide and death, suggestive Ig? idk Spencer kind of taunts reader, if I miss anything please tell me! Summary: An unsub targeting local political powers starts calling you. With virtually no memories of your life before 15, you're tasked with finding out why his voice feels like home. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby. She's not physically described in this but reader is literally always a bigger person. Anyone can read but I wanna clarify <3 WC: 7.8k I lokey feel like I fumbled this one but this idea has been in my head since I saw a post about it like last month so i'm sorry in advance if it sucks 💀 I'm not saying looping ghost in the machine by SZA while reading this will elevate the experience but just know it's strongly advised and im even giving you a link to the song for easy access.

The fourth case this month. This was the fourth battered politician you’d forced into handcuffs while ducking away from the recoil of blood spewing from his mouth. The men you’d arrested had all protested strongly - and wetly - while being walked to the back of your cruiser, demanding to know why you were arresting them even though they were the victims. They were always the victims. They’d been burgled and beaten - yes- oftentimes you were restraining them while they sat in bathrobes or pajama pants, but this unsub always jumped the gun. Somehow they managed all this damage while simultaneously kicking the dirt that had been sedentary for years out from under the rug. The men would call the police themselves -  I’ve been robbed, I’ve been beaten - always astounded when you’d taken their statement then turned them around and recited their Miranda rights. This unsub was meticulous, planned down to the second. Somehow, the media always broke the story hours after the arrest with full fledged details on the crime - ones the BAU didn’t even have yet. 

The first time this happened, you’d questioned every media worker from Quantico to DC. His target zone never seemed to reach beyond that, giving you an offender right in your backyard. Those were always the hardest to stomach.  Journalists, Newscasters, even cameramen had been turned inside out as the team scoured for any connection. He was just too good. 

“How can it be just one man?” Derek spoke first, but that was the question all of you were about to ask. 

“Wife and kids were outta town. It was a sleeping 50 year old man against the element of surprise.” Prentiss was right, it wasn’t a difficult job when viewed like that. “Description is consistent with all the victims. All black attire, mask over the face.” She flopped the folder down in front of her for emphasis. 

“Either he has another guy or he’s incredibly tech savvy. Some of this information was encrypted, it would take weeks to compile all of this. If he’s hitting a new vic every week that’s not nearly enough planning time for something this orchestrated.” Hotch checked the time on his watch. “We’re not finding him tonight. The local PD are investigating. We don’t have clearance until tomorrow. Everybody go home and get some rest, we need to crack down on this.” 

As much as you loved your job, the departure was a welcome relief. The day had drained you, you had to basically drag yourself back to the BAU for the regroup after the case. It was routine, and incredibly necessary as this unsub continued his streak, but your brain was mush, and you didn’t know if you were capable of any breakthroughs in your current state. You were grateful, currently, that at least you weren’t dealing with a serial killer. He had an agenda, that much was obvious, but chasing a serial killer for a month bred a different kind of stress than chasing an anarchist. 

The AC blast that hit you upon entering your home seemed to steal the tension from your shoulders. It was summer, so on top of hunting an unsub who was essentially a ghost, you were also bearing through the violently humid nights. You locked the door, pulling up your sleeves as you walked deeper into your house. The lights were on, you never left them off for long, and your eyes locked on the pile of notes sitting on your counter. Three small papers, torn at every edge, were draped over each other. Evidence, you thought. You’d kept them for evidence. Once you told the team the unsub had been reaching out, you would show them the notes. It was that simple, you were planning to tell them. You didn’t know why the information hadn’t entered their radar yet. This unsub was clearly infatuated. You could be a valuable part of solving this case, the notes could be the reason you solved it at all. Those were words straight from the source, they would tell you more about the unsub than any crime scene analysis would. Something about them just stilled your tongue, though. You never particularly liked the feds, the cops, the higher ups. You became one of them begrudgingly, you’d been good at reading people your whole life. You wanted to solve things, see justice. It was never primarily about helping people for you, and you feared the reputational repercussions if your team members ever found out about that. You weren't ignorant, you had morals. You simply lacked the place of purity they came from, the virtue your team members carried was one you were void of. Half of the time you walked away from a case, you disagreed with the verdict, and you were ashamed.

You had only realized you zoned out when the phone rang, effectively breaking your gaze away from the notes and onto the ‘Unknown caller’ screen glaring at you from your cell. Morgan just got a new phone, you remembered. He’s probably checking in. You picked it up, stating just your last name in greeting as a reflex from almost exclusively talking to other agents. 

It was quiet for a moment, reaching the period of time where your stomach knotted up and almost forced you off the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” The voice was a new one, it pulled at certain strings within you. You knew him, but you didn’t recognize him. 

“Who’s this?” The spark of familiarity filled you with guilt. A car accident when you were 15 had stolen most of the memories from your childhood and left a bountiful amount of scars in their place. You barely remembered your own parents, if this man was an old relative, you definitely didn’t know who he was. As much as your family tried to be empathetic, you could tell it hurt them when you were none the wiser.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice.” The man was smiling as he spoke, you could hear it in his tone. “Your number was shockingly hard to find. Feds really don’t mess around, huh?” Your shoulders tensed, you looked around. Blinds were closed, your house was the same as when you left it. You're sure it wouldn’t be hard to find your address if he’d found your number. “I’ve been trying, believe me. I left those notes while I was looking, although it’s really not the same, is it? Phones are so revolutionary, I mean writing you a letter is one thing but it’s so underwhelming in comparison. A piece of paper doesn’t let me listen to you, doesn’t let me hear those little breaths you take when you get scared.” You didn’t even realize your breathing had changed until he called you out. 

“Do I scare you?” He sounded so domestic, the contrast between the genuinity laced in his words and the actual words themselves just about knocked you over. “I hope I don’t. I’m not trying to.”

“What are you trying to do?” Your mouth felt sealed shut, just barely managing to grate out the words.

“If you’re asking about my agenda, I’m afraid that’s a private affair for now.” He was so casual about this, sarcastically sucking air in through his teeth like he was telling you he couldn’t meet for coffee next week.

“What do you need with me, then? You don’t want to share and you aren’t calling to gloat. What’s the point?” 

You heard him click his tongue at the question. “Everything is so technical with you agents.” You could basically sense his lips quirk up, gaining some type of sick intuition for the man’s tendencies. “Maybe I just wanted a word with the pretty detective working my case.” 

Your knees were trembling, your grip getting looser on the phone as you struggled to keep your hold through the tremors of your hands. You had to focus, you could take advantage of this. “Why politicians? What happened to you?”

“Personal grudge.”

“How do you get their data so fast?”

“I know a guy” He knew a guy?

“So you have a partner?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s no one of importance.” Sibling, maybe?

“It’s important to me.”

He chuckled at that. You needed to hang up.

“Y/n-” Could he sense your fucking muscles tensing? “Don’t tell your friends.” He could hear your heartbeat from where he was, you were sure of it. 

“Why?” You were instantaneous, barely letting him finish before responding. “You gonna hurt me?”

“No.” He scoffed. “If you tell them, I’ll have to stop reaching out.” You swore you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Is that really something you want?” Cold sweat pierced through the skin on the back of your neck. You yanked the phone down from your ear and hung up. 

No, it wasn’t. 

–

You dreadfully greeted the sun as it peeked through the slits of your blinds. You’d slept maybe a half hour in total last night, sleeping in five minute increments while bearing through a paranoid haze only comparable to the first time you’d smoked weed. The world felt unreachable. You could see it like a screen but your true consciousness sat captive in his hands. He’d known you. That was the fact stuck in your throat, that’s why you couldn’t sleep. Does that mean you knew him?

“Jesus.” If you had to guess, the sight of your sunken eyes and hunched shoulders was the trigger for Morgan’s reaction to the sight of you. Walking into work wasn’t going to be fun, you knew that, but you hadn’t expected such an immediate acknowledgement. “Someone have a rough night?”

You wished you could banter with him. Morgan always made working here feel lighter, he was fun to be around, but you were guilty. If you were tired from a one-night, insomnia, even if you were drunk and puking your guts up all night, you would have joked back with him. Now, you had to force yourself to make eye contact. A childish part of your brain was scared he'd smell it on you. At this point, you were fraternizing with the enemy, and it’s repercussions were draped over you like a curtain. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Clearly.” He handed you a mug of coffee. “Is it the case? If it’s bugging you that much, one of us can stay with you for a couple nights. It’s no trouble.”

“No, Morgan, that’s not necessary.” He was so kind it was nearly suffocating. If someone stayed, he either wouldn’t call or you’d have to decline it. Both of those options making an uncomfortable amount of unease stir inside you. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.” 

“Just tell me if you need anything.” He nodded at you, you nodded back, then you both headed into the conference room. 

“Any leads?” You walked to your seat as you asked, unsure what you were hoping to receive as an answer.

“None.” Everyone else was gathered around the table, Hotch scanning through the file as he replied to you.

“We’ve pretty much ruled out the media workers.” Prentiss spoke up. “This guy’s most likely an anarchist. His previous victims haven’t belonged to a consistent party so he’s not lashing out at the opposing side.” She thought for a moment. “What path leads somebody to anarchy?”

“Maybe he’s been kept out of office.” Morgan started speculating, just trying to sweep together something they could pin to him. “If he’s been running long enough, maybe he gets angry, changes course. He could be jealous of his targets.” 

Your brain was half focused on the case, half focused on him. Two sides of you were fighting, one instilling a sort of protectiveness over him, one howling at you to do your fucking job. 

“I don’t think he’s an anarchist.” You leaned forward in your chair, revving up to present your theory. “He’s been described in the same outfit for every victim. Long Sleeve, cargo pants, gloves and a ski mask - all black. That’s as minimal as it gets. Some pretty low income areas are well within his safe zone.” You paused, looking around to see if they were understanding what you were getting at.

“He’s poor.” Hotch had a glint in his eyes. Almost. 

“So - what?” Morgan prompted. “He’s doing this for money? This is way too elaborate for somebody needing cash.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Hotch, there was evidence of Scopolamine injections. A man who either knows how to make the chemical or already has enough money to buy it wouldn’t be in a position that warrants this. Plus, the kind of tech it would take to get the information he steals? Way more than your typical Best Buy - this is Garcia level stuff. He injects them and probably forces them to help with the robbing, he beats them senseless - he’s getting some kind of kick out of this.”

“He’s not poor” You concluded. “But I’m pretty sure he used to be.” You sat up straighter to elaborate. “A lot of times, kids who grow up homeless or with no money feel wronged by politicians. Here they are going to school hungry while the mayor rolls in cash and lets them bear the consequences of a put-off promise to help the community.”

Prentiss sat back in her chair as she considered your words. “To build this type of anger, though? This is a vendetta.” She glanced down at the crime scene photos as a reminder. 

“Exactly. Anger is expected in normal cases. Something extreme clearly had to happen to explain this type of outburst.” Personal grudge, you remembered him saying. You felt like you were airing out his secrets as you spoke. A weak sense of betrayal tugged at your guts. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, going over what type of event could cause something like this and I think I have an idea.” You pulled out your phone while talking to call Garcia, the woman answering immediately.

“Garcia, can you look up children in the Quantico to DC area who died from complications with chronic illness? Probably late 90’s to early 2000’s, I don’t think our guy is old enough to have been running for office.” 

“That’s gonna be a large list. Any more parameters you can give me?”

“Look for families making less than 20,000 a year.” 

“Got it. There were three families making under 20,000 that reported losing a child of illness. One was of stage 4 cancer with no plausible recovery and the other two said they couldn’t afford the medication needed for treatment. I just sent them over.”

“You’re the best.” 

“Don’t I know it.” You hung up the phone, pulling up the files she found.

“What exactly are we looking for here?” Morgan looked to you.

“We can rule out the first family. Dying of cancer wouldn’t create the effect needed for our unsub.” He looked like he was about to reiterate his question. “What we’re looking for is a sibling. If your family is struggling, you already have the seed of anger that this guy has. I think a family member dying from the lack of money might just give him the motive he needs.”

“That’s good thinking, he could be avenging someone.” Praise from Hotch always felt better than others. “The Bryson family was just the mother and the daughter who died. She worked in janitorial for the local middle school.”

“Doesn’t exactly fit the profile.” Morgan was right, all the testimonies had described a man. Plus the assumption of decent financial prosperity didn’t fit someone still working at a middle school.

“Who does that leave?” You were searching for the answer to your question, but Prentiss was quicker.

“Diana Reid and her two sons. Henry had type 1, seems like they could afford the insulin for a little while but something must have happened. He went into DKA and died a week later.”

Two sons. “What about his brother?”

“Uhhhh-” She scrolled down on her tablet. “That would be one Spencer Reid who…” She scrolled just a little bit further to find the whereabouts of the man, the hope in her eyes snuffing out with the information she read. “is dead. Says he committed suicide a couple years after his brother died.” The whole table deflated a bit as she said that.

“It was a good idea.” Hotch, despite being a monotone man, usually tried to keep things optimistic. “We’ll continue pursuing that angle. Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to go back to the first crime scene. I’ll call Dave and we’ll head to the latest.” The mentioned agents nodded their heads and started making their way out the door. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at your lack of instruction. “And me, sir?”

“Go home.” He looked you over for a moment. “You look like hell.” Then he was gone, calling Rossi on his way out. How mortifying.

– 

It had been three days since Hotch’s dismissal of you. You managed to get some sleep, convincing your co-workers of normalcy when you went back into the office the next day. In truth, you were anything but. You had been noticeably distracted but the others chose not to mention it until it hindered your performance, which it had yet to do. You were on a timer, counting down the seconds until your next call with him. You seemed to be endlessly tugged back and forth between excitement and pure dread. Everytime you got home, you took a moment to stare at your phone, almost like you could will him to call if you glared at it long enough. The day was just shy of a week since his last attack, and you were nervous as hell. Your phone buzzed once, then it buzzed again. He was calling. 

“You’re early.” You didn’t find it fitting to greet him. You knew who it was, why be friendly? “Is there another one?”

“Relax, honey.” His voice lit a fire in you. Jesus. “I didn’t know I was only permitted one call a week.”

“What are you playing at?” You tried to sound sturdy, but your voice hit your ears with more desperation than you’d ever expressed. 

“I could ask you the same.” You could hear the tilt in his words, he was so sure of what he was doing. “You didn’t tell them about us.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m not in cuffs, am I?”

“You think we’d catch you if I told them?” Was it your fault he was still free?

“No.”

“Maybe they’re listening.”

“Maybe.” He was so unbothered by the notion. You were never a good bluffer.

“It wouldn’t bother you?” You narrowed your eyes at nothing, staring at your wall as you tried to read him through the phone.

“You could bring in the whole nation, Y/n.” You listened more intently than you ever had. “It wouldn’t keep me from you.” You felt like you were choking on your own heart, feeling it beat at the confines of your throat. Jesus Christ.

“Do you know where I live?” Your lips were too weak to hold back the question. It’d been the only thing on your mind since the first note had been left on your car.

“Why?” His smile bled into his words. “Are you inviting me over?”

“Answer the question.”

“Why don’t you answer a question of mine?” He was so intentional, his MO proudly showing in the way he spoke to you. “Haywood or Clancy?”

“Are those your actual choices?” You tried to analyze him, justifying your actions with the ruse of investigation. He’d tell you more if he wasn’t monitored. “Or are you trying to throw me off your trail?” It was certainly plausible. Get you running after two men not of interest, leaving his real victim neglected by your team. 

He laughed, breathy and soft. “I don’t know.” You could almost picture him tilting his head, faceless and so enticing in your imagination. “Pick one for me. Maybe I’ll do him next in your honor.” 

“What do you know about honor?”

“Everything I do is about honor.” What did that mean?

“The only thing that would honor me is you turning yourself in.”

“What do you know about honor, agent?” His voice was taunting, you heard his body shift. “What do you think that team of yours would think about us, hm? Those are their words, not yours. You’re the one who’s waiting on calls from the enemy.” Shock paralyzed your tongue. You felt your head pulse with the blood rushing to your ears. “You don’t have to be guilty about wanting it, honey. You don’t fit with them.” 

“As opposed to what? Fitting with you?”

He chuckled. “You’ve thought about it.”

“Nightmares, maybe.” 

“That’s the angle you're going with?” He saw through you. “If you dreamt of me, I doubt they were nightmares.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“I don’t know where you are.” You didn’t feel relieved. “I have no interest in hurting or robbing you. Why would I want your address?.”

You slipped your hand under your shirt to trace the scar across your chest. Gift from the accident, now a nervous habit of yours. “What do you want?” God, you were a broken record.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Y/n.” You could barely hear him over the thrum of blood in your veins. Your entire body felt tuned into his words. You’d never felt so far away while connected. “Only what I can do.”

“You take everything from them. More than just money. Clearly you lost something.” You were so sick of asking this question but you were getting farther from the answer with every conversation. “Why are you doing this?”

“They made the first move.” Jesus what did they do to this guy? “I’m not the bad guy, honey. I’m just defending my side.” 

“This isn’t a game.”

“It might as well be.” He was quick with his responses. “It’s all the same to men like them.” You stayed quiet for a moment. How did you reply to something like that? “Get some sleep. It’s late.”

“Give me less crime scenes to look at and maybe I’ll sleep more.”

He smiled, you could hear it in his tone. “Every mean has an end, agent.” You held your breath, and as if gaining consciousness, you hung up the phone. You felt the brick of the encounter sit heavy in your stomach. He wasn’t lying. You were guilty, and you wanted it beyond belief. 

–

You’d talked to him four more times over the past two weeks. There’d been two more victims corresponding with those calls, continuing his routine of a new one each week. Your understanding of your feelings had become less hazy as you talked to him more. Your guilt wasn’t from withholding information from your team, it was from the fact you wanted to. It stemmed from your instinctual desire to keep him to yourself. Let him exist differently in your home life than he did in your work life. It was difficult keeping something from profilers. It made you feel worse that they definitely knew something was up, but chose not to push it because they trusted you. Did this truly make you untrustworthy? You were only human. 

You’d spent what was meant to be your day off at the BAU working. When there was a case like this, rest time seemed to take the backseat. You were drained, more emotionally than physically. You were lying to your friends, but truly, you didn’t know how deeply you considered them friends. They were good people, easy to like and easy to work with. You were starting to wonder if that's where it stopped, though. Everything about their company was easy, but it lacked gratification. His company was hard on you, but it was so rewarding, so filled with feeling that you started to wonder what your morals even were. You wouldn’t find them here, you thought. You certainly tried. You stared into the chipped white paint aging poorly on the brick wall of the bar as if the pigment of the words would organize your thoughts better than your malfunctioning mind could. The liquid in your glass was nearing it’s end. The drink had loosened your joints, loosened your mind. You hadn’t come here to get drunk, you were basically still sober, you just needed the warmth of a drink. There was a certain coldness within you, there had been since the accident. You accredit the feeling with driving away any potential love interests of yours. There was always a sense of being stuck, like you were interrupted in the middle of moving on, and never fully got to close the chapter. This wasn’t hard for others to sense. You were as emotionally nonreciprocal and unresponsive as a corpse.

“Mind if I join you?” A man who’d immediately caught your eye upon entrance gestured to the barstool next to you.

You motioned to it. “Please.” A casual invitation. You didn’t know how to talk to random men in bars. You took a good look at him, something subconscious stirring beneath your skin. The minimal buzz of the drink you had making you write it off, preferring the focus of his eyes on yours. 

“What’s your name?” The smoothness of his voice could have rivaled the most expensive whiskey in that place. 

You told him your name. He nodded, murmuring a “pretty” under his breath as he took a sip from his glass. 

“I’m Matthew.” 

“Pretty.” You reiterated, raising your eyebrows slightly as you joked. He chuckled, and you asked if he was new to the area. 

“I’m a local, actually. I grew up here, surprisingly never been to this bar, though.”

“Really? I grew up around here too. This place is old as dust, been here forever.” You looked down, finishing the last of your drink. 

“I know. I’ve wanted to come here for a while because it’s so old.” Something about him was so off putting but so irresistible. You’d never encountered such an uncomfortable concoction. It was intoxicating. “I lost the knack for drinking I had in my teen years. Back then my friends and me would just buy a 12 pack and get drunk in the field on Fromage.” 

You lacked the memories to know if you related to the man, but you weren’t going to delve into why and kill the mood, so you lied. “That field used to scare the shit out of me. Everyone at my school said there were bodies out there.” 

His eyes held a certain glint in them when he looked at you, his lips perked up at the edges slightly, if you hadn’t been a profiler you might have missed it. “Really?” Maybe you imagined it all, that or he caught on to you, the look leaving his eyes after lingering for a moment. The slight promise of something more sinister pulsed throughout them. The hairs on your arm were standing. “Mine said the same thing.” He smiled, looking away, shaking his head fondly as he remembered. “My school was full of dumbasses though so I never really took it seriously.” And you laughed. 

You laughed a lot throughout the time you sat there with him. A few hours, you’d guess. He lowered your guard so easily, walking leisurely through the gates of you. You’d practically rolled out the red carpet for him. You wondered if he could see how easily he got in, how much you welcomed the feel of him in your veins. He didn’t seem to mind if he could. When he’d wanted to take you home, your lips parted, and you said you’d like that. You don’t really remember driving, knowing one of you did, both of you sober by the time you’d left. He’d been so gentle, so all-consuming. He’d run his thumbs along the scars he encountered, punctuating the sensation with his lips following close after. Mumbling praises against your skin and rhetorically asking “does that feel good, honey?” as your legs shook around him. He melted you down to pure liquid gold with just his touch, knowing exactly how to map you out. You’d felt him everywhere, his fingers burning their respective shadows on your skin, seeping slowly into your soul to leave marks there too. He’d felt so safe, the pure want joining the two of you together. A euphoric distraction from all the disaster you’d let befall you. He was gone before you woke up the next morning, but you saw him in your shadow, felt him in the soreness of your legs. He’d been a deviation, something put in your path to confuse you. What a brutal fucking night.

–

The same day, you’d gone to work, gone home, and then ended up back at the BAU an hour later. There had been another victim. Two days early. This was his eighth, and up until now he hadn’t strayed from his weekly pattern. This was a bad sign, if he was ramping up, who knows how many more he wanted to hit. The story had stayed the same, and that night you were arresting another board member, this time for solid ties to human trafficking. He really knew how to pick them. You’d give him that, at least.

The meeting post-arrest basically just shared what you were all thinking. He was ramping up, and you were getting no closer to catching him. Stating the obvious was doing nothing but wasting time. He was good. One of the best you’d ever seen. Nobody really knew what to do at this point. You watched their faces get more and more helpless and you felt bad. Nothing in your calls with the man would have helped you solve this case, you were almost positive. Any aspect that could have helped was one you explored. 

Emily had said the name ‘Spencer Reid’ and the way your stomach lurched made you feel like you had to be onto something. You’d never had such an intense gut feeling about something only for it to be absolutely impossible. You hadn’t told them, but you looked more into him. His death was an easy one to fake. As much as you hated speculating on what could very well have been just a heartbroken boy, you couldn’t deny the theory you were building. His mother had found a suicide note, they hauled a body out of the river a month later and just assigned Spencer’s name to it, marking it down as conclusive. You weren’t convinced.

–

You got home within the hour, locking the door and pulling out your phone. You hadn’t called him before, but it was the same number every time, and you needed to talk. The phone rang so long you were almost sure he wouldn’t pick up. Almost.

“Y/n.” He greeted you. “This is new.” 

“You broke your pattern.” You started with the topic at hand. “Why did you do that?”

You heard a chair squeak slightly as he leaned back. “What can I say? You being so interested gave me some extra motivation.”

“Interested?” What the fuck was he talking about? “This isn’t - I’m not fucking interested in anything. You’re a criminal.” You were slightly out of breath. When you lied to him, no matter how small the lie, air seemed to gain a disinterest in staying within your lungs.

“Mhm.” He was smug. That wasn’t a good sign. “I don’t believe that. You seemed pretty interested last night.” 

He had pulled a lever, and your stomach dropped to your shoes. “That was you?” You sounded as defeated as you felt. Your eyes were watering from the pure shock, feeling the drop of the bomb shake you down to your core. 

“You kept tracing that scar on your chest, you know that?” You hadn’t known that. “Almost like you could feel it.” Feel what? He didn’t elaborate. “You sounded so pretty when I touched it, when I kissed you. Been thinking about it all day.” He was breathy, sounding like he was trying to put himself back in it as he spoke. 

You steadied yourself before you opened your mouth. “You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” He sighed. “You lied to me, though.” You hadn’t imagined it. “That field used to scare you?” He laughed slightly. “You were the one who told me about it. Took me over there once to look at the moon in the back of your dad’s pickup.” 

God, this was frustrating. “Who are you?” The tears were dancing the border of your eyes, begging to run down your cheeks. “I knew you?”

“You know me.” He was so sure of it. “I’m still in there. Everything is.”

You had to ask, at this point you were near certain of it. “Spencer?”

He sighed, relief intertwining with his words. “There she is.” It was such a soft delivery, the moment he took before replying had you wondering if you’d said anything at all.

What kind of situation even was this? “Is this about your brother?”

“You know, when we were younger, my mother knew the mayor. He used to babysit my brother and me when she worked nights.” His tone was humorous, bitter, like he couldn’t believe the stupidity of what he was explaining. “I listened to him promise us he would change the community when he got the time. Get us a house with more than one bedroom, get us into a school system deserving of us. He used to call me a genius.” He scoffed at the thought. “Then my mom couldn’t afford the insulin, and he let my brother die.”

You didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“The payments wouldn’t have even made a dent in his pockets.” You could visualize him, alone in a room somewhere, that familiar crease between his eyebrows as he talked. You were going to be sick, you thought. “One man for every year my brother got to live. Seems only fair.”

“Two more to go, then?” You couldn’t identify a single thought in your head. All of them speeding past you like bullets before you could latch onto one. “Is it helping?”

“Yeah.” He sniffled, quiet and subdued. “It is.”

“I - um” A tear finally fell, breaking the dam. You wiped it away quickly, two more taking it’s place almost immediately “I have to go.”

“Y/n-” but you were gone already. You put your hand over your mouth, laughing into it slightly at the absurdity of your situation and sobbing into a moment later as you took the cold plunge into reality. You texted your parents, knowing they were asleep, asking if you could swing by when they woke up. If anyone would know something, it was them, and you had every intention of shaking them down to find out exactly how you’d known the man. You had to know. You spent the night preparing the questions you’d ask and trying to fall asleep. You were almost paralyzed with the weight of him on you. There was no getting out of it now.

–

The outside of this house always felt alien. You knew you’d grown up here, but it lacked any sense of home. You wondered as you stood out front how much Spencer had to have meant to leave more of a mark than the place you spent your first 18 years in. The sun was nearing it’s peak in the sky, it was almost noon. Your parents had texted back at eight am, worried and eager to know what was wrong, eager to see you. You’d fallen asleep barely an hour before that, waking up at eleven and quickly getting ready after seeing the text. You were scared. These were practically strangers to you, and you were betting an ungodly amount on them. That’s not fair, you thought. But honestly, nothing was fair, and you calmed your guilt with promise of filling the void in your gut. You broke your staring contest with the front door and leaned forward to knock, the thing opening almost immediately. 

“Hey.” You spoke before they did. You found that being the first to talk usually decreased the amount of warmth in their greetings. “It’s good to see you guys. Thank you for having me, I know my texts were sort of alarming. I just needed to talk about something.” You held eye contact to the best of your ability. They brought out a deep feeling of shame, knowing they didn’t blame you for the distance but still being responsible for it nonetheless. 

“Of course.” Your mother talked while your father looked down. “It’s good to see you too. Come in, please.” Your father broke from her side to go sit down, while your mother opened the door to usher you in. You stepped forward, nodding at her in thanks as you passed her, joining your father where he sat.

“Um…” You faced both of them as your mom took the place by his side. How did you even start this? “Well, in a case I’ve been working on, somebody came up.” You couldn’t tell them he was alive. “And he just…seemed familiar, I guess. Did I know a boy named Spencer Reid growing up?” You watched the sparks of recognition ignite in their eyes as you said the name. Your mother’s grew teary, while your father’s seemed to harden. 

“Knew him?” Your mother chuckled at the thought of it being so simple. “You two were more in love than your father and I.” She rolled her eyes as she held your father’s arm, the man laughing lightly at her words.

 “He was the first friend you talked about. I remember picking you up from the first day of kindergarten and listening to you rave about the boy who was ‘smarter than the teacher’.” Her tone got lighter at the end, seemingly trying to imitate the excitement of your adolescent self. “You two were always close, you know?” She seemed to remember him fondly. “When you got older, you would get so defensive if  I asked after him so eventually I stopped. But I knew. I knew you two would end up together from your first playdate.” She was on the verge of tears, giggling at her own words as the stories she told surrounded her, smiling at the past. 

“His family really struggled. Such a sweet kid, him and his brother both. They were over here a lot.” Your father took the role of speaker as your mother’s emotions got the better of her. “We went back and forth for a while after the accident on whether to tell you or not. It just seemed cruel to. He died the night before you got hit, and you were such a wreck we just -” He struggled to find the words. “We considered it a blessing you didn’t remember him.” Your father’s guilt was apparent, twisting his features slowly as he explained their choices. “You were so in love, sweetheart. You didn’t know who he was when you woke up and we figured, you know, what’s the point? When the only thing that could come from it was pain, it just seemed futile.” 

You don’t think you blinked the entire time they were talking to you. You only knew you were crying when your vision went blurry, completely neglecting the beading of tears down your cheeks. You remembered the day your mother was talking about, seeing the children you once were illustrate the world in front of you. You could almost see his face, how it would have looked when he died, how he used to look at you. Like he was staring at the universe’s secrets, easing his hands through the veil to touch them - to touch you. You remember the feeling he gave you, something warm and distinct, reserved for the two of you only. If you could have seen yourself in the moments you shared, you’re sure you would have worn the same look in your eyes. 

You started speaking, but couldn’t manage much. “Yes, yeah, you’re right.” Reassurance usually worked well. “It was a…a good call.” You had trouble with your words, remembering the feelings of him but lacking the visuals. “Do you have any pictures?” Your mother nodded in response, detaching from your dad and going to retrieve something that held the memories you sought. 

“I’m-” Your dad started. “We’re sorry.”

You shook your head. Your parents were the last people who owed an apology. “It’s ok, dad. I’m glad you did it.”

“I could never myself look back at these. Thinking about what happened to them I just…I can never look at them knowing they’re gone.” Your mother re-entered the room holding a camera, dark pink and cheap. “It was meant to document your childhood, but he was around so much, it’s basically just a compilation of you guys.”

You held the thing in your hands. It was everything you wanted to happen but you couldn’t force your fingers to move. Did you even want this? He was alive, sure, but you’re certain the boy next to you in these photos would never see the light of day again. All your birthdays for thirteen years, field trips, science fairs, even just the two of you sitting together reading. It was all here. All consumable. You felt the urge to boil them down and burn your skin with the residue. Anything to keep a semblance of this life with you. You had a right to them, they were yours. Your teeth clenched at the sting of the absence. He had been yours and you couldn’t even remember. “Can I keep this?”

“Of course.” You’re sure the thoughts in your head were obvious to them, spinning like a cyclone in your eyes zoning out on the camera. “I’ve thought about giving it to you for a while now anyway.”

–

They’d made you lunch, then dinner. They told you tales of your past and you let them glance into your present. It was dark by the time you left, setting the goal to talk with them more. You walked to your car, having parked down the street, and tried to shake yourself out of the trance that house put you in. You thought you were seeing things at first, squinting slightly to focus on the chunk of passenger door that was shrouded with out of place darkness. Someone was leaning against your car. You didn’t feel defensive. 

“Spencer?”

“Hey.” He pushed off the door and walked closer to you, facing you on the sidewalk. You could see him now, lit up by a streetlight. He took you in, too. Glancing at your hand and grinning. “I remember that thing.” You had forgotten you were holding the camera until now. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know, honey.” He shrugged, matching your exhaustion at the situation. “I guess I wanted to see how much you remembered.” He looked at you, his eyes just as bright as they’d been a decade ago. “How much I could make you remember.”

You sighed. God, if only it worked that way. “Do you want to-” What the fuck were you thinking? “Do you want to come over?” You’d looked through every picture on that camera. You missed him. You missed him in your space, on your bed, waiting for you at the bus stop. That knot of feeling stuck only wanted to unravel if it were his hands tugging at it. “I can drive us.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise blending seamlessly with the undiluted hope he carried as a kid. “Ok.” He smiled, just a tiny lift at the corners of his lips. The image of that smile resting on his teenage face struck you so violently you felt it in your bones. You looked at him, starstruck. His presence was a trance of it’s own. 

“Ok.” You repeated him, trying to elongate the moment. You weren’t sure when you’d be ready to look away. He’d have to move first, and he knew it, so he walked to the passenger door. You blinked, grounding yourself, and unlocked the car. 

You were preparing for an awkward car ride, but clearly your subconscious was more than familiar with him, being silent with him came as second nature to you. You took the long way back to your house, trying to enjoy the comfortability as long as you could. He added an elevation to your existence that you hadn’t been aware you were lacking. You pulled into your driveway ten minutes later, parking and turning off the car. 

“Did you really not know where I lived?”

“No.” He was looking out your windshield, taking in the sight of where you felt safest. “I meant what I said. I never needed to. 

You walked into the house first, hearing him shut the door softly behind him. You’d been listening to see how he’d close it, not sure what it would tell you, but deeming it important regardless. He’d been nothing but respectful of your space both times he’d been here. You sat down, nodding your head to the chair near you. 

He let a moment pass, waiting to see if you had something to say. You had too much to say, too much to articulate. “I want you to leave with me.”

“Spencer-”

“Don’t.” His eyes were pleading, glistening with his unique mix of hunger and control. “Don’t write me off, Y/n. Nobody would know. They’re not gonna catch me. You can quit, and we can leave.” You looked away, down towards your hands. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” It was all you’d been thinking about. Usually in dreams - obviously your mind was more up to date than you were. You were going to do it, you thought. Of course you were. You looked at him and knew you’d go anywhere he asked you to. Still, though, you had a life. One you needed time to wrap up before you could leave it. You were a federal agent, if you went missing, they’d send the entire nation to step on your heels. 

“Can I think about it?

He looked at you, suppressing a smile and tilting his head slightly. “Sure, honey.” He could read you so easily. He’d known he had you from the moment he asked. “I’ve still got two more.” The burning in your stomach wasn’t a resistance to the words. It was an admiration, a feeling you could wallow in. You weren’t an opposing force to him. Had you ever been? Truly?

“What happens if I don’t go?”

His eye contact had a way of transferring, enveloping any part of you it could reach. You were testing him. “Don’t force my hand, Y/n.”

You didn’t plan on finding out what that meant.

[tinyluvs]

i saw your post and i’m here with fluff suggestions 🫡

cuddling in bed after spencer gets home from a long case and you just have to debrief about what’s been going on in your lives all tangled up in each other 💀💀💀 i hope this is good, just an idea but i completely get the not being in the mood to write smut thing

you’re a real one for this, tysm, ily & this idea & you were so quick with it too like 🫶🏻 anyways hope you enjoy! soft reid and even softer reader are my faves ♡ xo

the corner of the bed dips and startles you slightly, not that you were asleep but instead, just dozing. "spence?" you mumble, squinting at the shape of your boyfriend whilst pushing yourself up onto your elbow

"hey sweetheart, go back to sleep, sorry for waking you," he whispers, looking over his shoulder with a soft smile. after a second he stands, moving to your side of the bed in one big step, "sorry," he repeats, bending to kiss your forehead, then the tip of your nose and finally your lips

"stop saying sorry, i wasn't even sleeping," you hum, pushing up on your hands to steal another kiss before he stands straight again, "i didn't think you were coming back tonight, i would've waited up," you pout at him slightly as he disappears across to the other side of the room

you watch him as he gets undressed, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor while he rummages for his pyjamas, "we weren't supposed to, last minute thing," he explains, trailing off slightly at the end

once he's redressed he practically races across the room, flopping down on top of you before you could even put your arms out for him, "hey," you sigh with relief like you do every time he comes home safe, your fingers brushing gently through his hair

"hello," he answers simply, his voice muffled where his face is hidden against your neck. his hands slide underneath your body, colder than you'd like them to be against your back but you don't complain, "i love you,"

before you can respond his fingers tickle over your waist, "no! spence, don't you dare!" you gasp, eyes widening and hands grabbing at him in attempts to push him off of you, it doesn't work

spencer grins at you, "say it back and i won't," he offers with a small shrug

"i was going to anyway," you huff at him lightly. he raises an eyebrow at you, hands squeezing at your waist in warning, "okay! i love you too, please,"

he hums with satisfaction, dipping for a kiss through a cheeky smile before rolling off of you, his back hitting the mattress with a small bounce, "come here,"

without protest you wiggle across the bed while he switches off the lamp. the space next to him, under his arm was made for you, your body slotting against his like you're a two piece puzzle

your head rests on his shoulder while your legs tangle with his, both of your bodies using muscle memory to get comfy. his fingers trailing up and down the dip in your spine while yours trace patterns over his heart

"how's your week been?" he asks, turning slightly towards you, his cheek smushing against the top of your head, "do anything fun?"

"i went to the park with will and the kids, jack included," you whisper, "that was fun, we got ice cream and swung on the swings until we felt sick, will was a bit concerned,"

spencer chuckles while you giggle quickly, recalling the way will had pleaded his own two children, you and jack to get off of the swings for a while, "i bet jj will tell me about this when i see her," your boyfriend smiles, his cheeks rising causing your head to wobble slightly

"oh i bet, will won't ever let me hang out with them again!" quietly, you cry out, dramatically throwing your arm upwards before letting it smack back down onto the bed before giggling again

"m'sure he will, now, what else did you do? besides traumatising will," spencer yawns which makes you suddenly very conscious of the fact that it's the early hours of the morning and he must be exhausted

"we can talk about it tomorrow angel," tilting your head up, you rest you chin just below his collarbone, your knuckles ghosting over his jawline and slight stubble, which you adore

he looks down at you through his lashes with a slight frown, "no, please, carry on" he pauses to kiss your forehead, "i slept on the jet, hold on," in one movement he readjusts both of you, so you're laying on your sides, facing each other, legs still tangling together

"okay," you trail your fingers up his side, pausing to let him shiver as his body familiarises itself with the gentle touch before carrying on, "i finally took the disposable camera to get developed, tried a new coffee place that i think you will like," you start to list off, listening to spencer humming after each thing

"uhm, i made that recipe rossi gave me, it turned out amazing," groaning slightly as you remember the pasta, "oh! the guy in the flower shop gave me free sunflowers after i told him they were my favourites!" you gasp slightly

spencer gasps louder, his filled with offence, "i told you he had a crush on you," he hums, matter of factly while drumming his fingers against your hip bone. you lightly tap him with your hand, unable to fight the smile that passes over your lips as he laughs

"he does not!"

"oh, he does sweetheart but you're all mine," he grumbles through gritted teeth, squeezing you slightly too tight but only for a second before you're settling back against the warmth of his body, "did you finish that book you were reading?"

"i did! it was great, you can read it if you want," this time, you start to yawn, eyes becoming heavy against your will, "hey, have you got the day off tomorrow?" you ask

spencer pulls the duvet up, shimmying his shoulders until he's slightly further down the bed, "i do, i was thinking i could read that book over breakfast, we could go to that coffee place you were talking about, maybe the book store and get the ingredients for that pasta," he explains

"sounds perfect to me," with a soft sigh you allow tiredness to start taking over your body, your head lolling against his chest as your eyes flutter shut and all your senses fill with spencer

"and we are stopping by the flower store,"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[lxvsiick]

TOO SWEET | LEE RIWOO X READER

PAIRING: donut lover! lee riwoo x clueless! fem! reader

SUMMARY: After stealing the last donut from him, Riwoo declares Y/n as his enemy -- in which Y/n is clueless to the rivalry between her and Riwoo after stealing the last donut from the bakery.

GENRE: one-sided rivalry, enemies to lovers?, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

A/N: a riwoo imagine/story! im so sorry it took awhile for me to write a riwoo story! i had many ideas for him but didn't know how to execute it ,, i also just go back from an nct dream concert so i am a little tired ,, anyways, enjoy!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

The smell of fresh pastries hit Riwoo as he and his friends piled into the bakery. His eyes immediately locked onto the display case, and there it was—the last glazed donut, shining like a beacon of happiness in an otherwise dreary morning.

“I’ve been dreaming about this donut for days,” he announced dramatically, pushing his friends aside with an excited grin. “Today’s the day.”

Just as he approached the counter, the worker sighed and picked up the microphone, voice crackling through the bakery's speakers. “Attention customers, we are now officially out of donuts. Thank you!”

His heart stopped. “What? No donuts?” he said, disbelief and shock mixing in his tone. Riwoo leaned over the counter, craning his neck to see who had snatched it. There, sitting by the window, casually taking a bite of his donut, was none other than her—the girl from three of his classes.

Y/n.

His eyes narrowed as she wiped some sugar off her cheek, oblivious to his presence.

“No way,” he muttered, stepping back from the counter. “It was her.”

His friends exchanged confused looks. “Who?” Jaehyun asked.

“That girl,” he said, pointing dramatically in her direction. “She’s in three of my classes... and she just took the last donut.”

There was a long pause as his friends stared between him and the girl, slowly processing what just happened.

“She’s my enemy now.”

Woonhak snorted. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Riwoo said, crossing his arms. “She has declared war.”

As if on cue, Y/n glanced up from her seat, caught his gaze, and smiled sweetly, completely unaware of the chaos she had just unleashed in his world.

His friends burst into laughter. "Dude, I think you're overreacting."

“Nope. This is personal,” he said with a deadpan expression, eyes still fixed on her as if they were in the middle of a silent showdown.

"Your donut obsession's gonna get you killed one day," Sungho joked, slapping his back.

"Only if she gets to me first," he said, turning away with mock intensity.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

The lecture hall buzzed with the usual pre-class chatter as Riwoo slouched in his seat, scrolling through his phone. Sungho sat beside him, lazily flipping through the notes from last week’s lecture, not really paying attention.

“Dude, I don’t get why we have to be here so early,” Sungho grumbled, tossing the notebook onto the desk.

“Because,” Riwoo replied, still focused on his screen, “if I have to suffer, so do you.”

Just then, the door to the lecture hall swung open, and a group of students entered, chatting and finding their seats. Riwoo didn’t pay much attention until he saw her—Y/n—walking in with her friend, laughing at something they were talking about.

His heart skipped for a brief second, and before he knew it, his eyes were glued to her.

She passed by his row, locking eyes with him for the briefest moment. She smiled—a sweet, innocent smile that lit up her face. She gave a small wave, like she hadn’t taken the last donut at the bakery just a couple of days ago.

He stared back, frozen in place. “Oh, she’s good,” he muttered under his breath.

As soon as she and her friend walked past, finding seats a few rows ahead, he turned to Sungho, face set in a serious expression.

“Did you see that?” he whispered, voice low as if he was about to reveal a grand conspiracy.

Sungho raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Y/n before turning back to him. “See what?”

“That smile,” Riwoo hissed. “She smiled at me. Like nothing happened. Like she didn’t steal my donut right from under my nose.”

Sungho blinked in confusion. “Uh...okay? What’s the big deal?”

He leaned in closer, his tone darkening dramatically. “She’s my enemy, man. Don’t you get it? That was a taunt. She’s mocking me.”

“Dude, she smiled at you. It’s a smile, not a declaration of war.”

“No, no, no. That’s exactly what she wants you to think,” he said, shaking his head. “That smile was strategic. It was planned. She’s trying to mess with me.”

Sungho snorted, holding back laughter. “So, let me get this straight: you think she’s secretly plotting against you because of... a donut?”

“Exactly,” he said, pointing a finger like he’d just cracked the code to some great mystery. “It’s psychological warfare. She’s playing the long game.”

Sungho leaned back in his chair, giving him a look that was part disbelief, part amusement. “You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m telling you, she’s my nemesis now,” he said with finality, crossing his arms.

Sungho shook his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re gonna have to get over that donut someday, man.”

“Never,” Riwoo replied, glancing once more at Y/n sitting a few rows ahead. “This isn’t about the donut anymore. It’s about principle.”

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

Riwoo slouched in his seat, staring at the clock as it ticked closer to the start of class. Without his friends in this lecture, the room felt emptier, and he wasn’t sure whether that was a blessing or a curse. He glanced around, vaguely recognizing some faces but not caring enough to acknowledge anyone.

His eyes drifted to the door as more students shuffled in—and then, of course, she walked in. Y/n, his sworn enemy, the girl who took the last donut and smiled at him as if she hadn't committed a crime against humanity. She sat a couple of rows ahead of him, chatting with someone else, completely unaware of the silent feud raging in his mind.

He sighed, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t escape her,” he muttered under his breath.

The professor cleared his throat at the front of the room, silencing the chatter. “Alright, everyone. Today, we’re starting the partner project I mentioned last week. I’ll be assigning the pairs. No, you don’t get to choose.”

Riwoo groaned internally. “Great,” he thought sarcastically. “Just what I need. Some random classmate to drag me down.”

The professor began rattling off names, pairing students up row by row. Riwoo wasn’t really listening until he heard—

“Lee Sanghyuk and... Jung Y/n.”

His heart stopped. Her? He blinked in disbelief, sitting up straight in his chair. “No way,” he whispered to himself, cursing under his breath. Out of all the people in this class, he had to be partnered with her? The universe was mocking him.

“Of course,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Of course, it’s her.”

As if on cue, Y/n turned around in her seat, flashing him that sweet, innocent smile again. She waved lightly. “Sanghyuk! Looks like we’re partners!” she said brightly, as if this were the best news she’d heard all day.

He forced a tight smile, trying to mask the turmoil swirling inside him. “Y-yeah,” he said, his voice strained. “Lucky me.”

She hopped out of her seat and moved to sit beside him, dropping her bag on the desk with a friendly grin. “I’m so glad! I was really hoping I’d get someone I know. This project’s gonna be so much fun!”

Riwoo blinked at her enthusiasm. Fun? The word echoed in his mind like some kind of cruel joke. How could she be so cheerful when she was his nemesis? She had no idea what kind of rivalry she’d unknowingly sparked.

He shot a quick glance around the room, hoping no one else noticed the sheer irony of this situation. Meanwhile, she was already pulling out her notebook, flipping to a fresh page with a determined look on her face. “So, I was thinking we could divide the work evenly. I’ll handle the research part, if you’re cool with the writing. Or we could switch if that’s better for you.”

Riwoo blinked, thrown off by her kindness. “Uh... yeah, sure. Whatever works,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Y/n beamed at him. “Great! We make a good team already, huh?”

His jaw clenched slightly. A good team? Was she serious? Didn’t she realize she had stolen his donut, smiled at him like nothing happened, and now, the universe was forcing them to work together? This was some next-level psychological warfare.

She glanced at him, noticing his quietness. “Are you okay? You seem... tense.”

“Tense?” he repeated, trying to laugh it off. “No, no. I’m fine.” Inside, though, he was still cursing his luck. How could she be so oblivious?

“Awesome! I’ll message you tonight with some ideas so we can start brainstorming,” she said, already scribbling down some notes. “I’m really looking forward to this!”

He stared at her, utterly baffled. How could someone be this sweet? And why did it feel like it made the whole situation worse?

“Yeah... me too,” he mumbled, forcing a smile. But inside, all he could think was, This is going to be a nightmare.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

Riwoo pushed open the door to the bakery, the familiar scent of fresh pastries filling the air. His eyes instinctively scanned the room for her, the girl who had unknowingly become the source of his donut-related anguish.

There she was—sitting at a table near the window, already settled in. She was leaning over her notebook, scribbling something down, but as he approached, she looked up and met his gaze with that same sweet smile. The one that used to make his blood boil.

“Hey, Sanghyuk!” Y/n greeted, her voice cheerful as she waved him over. “I went ahead and got us some desserts. I hope that’s okay.”

Riwoo raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the table. There, in front of her, was a plate with an assortment of donuts. Glazed, powdered, chocolate—every kind imaginable. His heart sank, and then leapt, all at once.

“I didn’t know what flavors you liked,” she continued with an innocent shrug, “so I just got a bunch. I figured we could share. I love donuts. They’re one of my favorites.”

His brain short-circuited for a moment. Did she just say donuts are her favorite?

“You... you like donuts?” he asked, cautiously sitting down across from her, eyes still fixated on the pile of pastries.

She giggled lightly. “Yeah, they’re my absolute favorite. I probably eat way too many of them, but I can’t help it. They’re so good, right?”

Riwoo blinked, stunned. This couldn’t be real. The girl who had taken the last donut in front of him—his enemy, his nemesis—also loved donuts? The very thing that had sparked his irrational rivalry?

“Uh... yeah, they’re my favorite too,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair as his mind reeled. “I didn’t know.”

She beamed, looking genuinely pleased. “Really? That’s awesome! We’ve got something in common then. Maybe we should work at bakeries instead of focusing on this project,” she joked, popping a small piece of donut into her mouth.

Riwoo couldn’t help but stare at her, dumbfounded. This was the same girl he’d been holding a grudge against for days—over a donut, no less—and now, here she was, sharing donuts with him, unknowingly erasing the rivalry he’d built in his head.

His initial instinct was to remain defensive, but as he watched her happily munch on the pastries, a strange realization crept in. She wasn’t his enemy. In fact, she might actually be... nice. Maybe even too nice.

“She’s not that bad,” he muttered under his breath, leaning forward to grab a donut from the plate. His one-sided rivalry suddenly seemed ridiculous. Maybe he could put it on hold, at least for now.

“What was that?” Y/n asked, looking up from her notebook.

“Oh, nothing,” he said, offering a half-smile as he took a bite of his donut. “Just thinking... maybe we make a good team after all.”

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[ohnoitsjetster]

Didn’t Herbert West technically TECHNICALLY try to baby trap Dan in Bride of Reanimator?

Thoughts?

(Im sorry this took forever to respond to. life got in the way, of my silly little words)

technically, yes. The main intention was the same. But "Baby Trap" does not even start to explain the shit Herbert pulled in Bride of Reanimator.

thoughts? you want THOUGHTS? alright how about let me break down exactly what Herbert did here:

That man stole Megan's heart from an evidence locker and stored it in his fridge. When Dan tried to leave Herbert, He offered the heart to Dan with every ounce of reverence he could deliver without getting down on one knee.

that is to say, Herbert anticipated that Dan would leave him and saw that he loved Megan. So his reaction was to steal Megan's actual physical HEART, and give it to Dan as an offering to force him to stay.

He vaguely explained that he was about to baby trap him with it, to which Dan agreed because of his blind love for Meg, and his blind love for Herbert, and because, in the words of Bruce Abbot, "no one will ever get rich overestimating Dan's bad taste."

(This could maybe be because the world of Reanimator uses weird sci-fi logic where the heart contains the person's personality or life or whatever, and it'd actually bring Meg back (even though these movies seemed pretty brain-focused thus far), in which case, pretty good manipulator leverage! nice job, Herbie! Otherwise, its either because Herbert knew Dan would like this weird creepy gesture of love, or because Herbert thought this weird creepy gesture of love was a normal and good idea, and coincidentally Dan was that same wavelength of out-of-touch freak as Herbert, because they're just meant for each other or something. That last option is my personal favorite)

So, then Herbert goes around the hospital STEALING more body parts off corpses (former patients who also presumably received some form of care and attention from Dan), trying to create Dan's perfect woman based on his shallow perception of whatever it is that straight, allosexual, relatively neurotypical men like (maybe since Herbert can't be what Dan wants romantically, he can create it for him and earn love that way (that cannot be good for His internalized transphobia)).

so then he meticulously assembles a woman like an Ikea cabinet and proceeds to give Dan the worlds most sensual elevator pitch, using... a line that he heard Dan use with his girlfriend when he was eavesdropping on them having sex. He tries to explain why this is the perfect woman for all your woman needs! Like uhhh sex, and... sex, and lawyering? maybe murder? (I guess he thinks it'd be nice to have a woman who can kill for you and defend your crimes in a court of law. That does sound useful in their situation)

Then he watched the Bride fight Francesca like some sort of underground girlfriend fighting ring, as if the larger and stronger girl would win ownership of our poor pathetic Dr Cain. Unfortunately Herbert's creation broke down to nothing when it removed its own heart to give it to Dan in the same exact gesture with which Herbert showed Dan the heart earlier.

Pure heterosexual coincidence, of course. There is absolutely nothing odd about Herbert's gift to Daniel being a grotesque amalgamation of everyone Dan loved instead of him and everything those people had to offer Dan, fueled by the pumping of Megan's heart (whom Herbert had hated and competed with), a heart both stolen and offered willingly, one both frozen and thawed, both beating and dead. There Dan stays, too close, yet too far. (am i reading into it- You Bet)

Yup. Pure coincidence. And also nothing suspicious about it being a creature created of such concentrated love, reverence, devotion, and bitter fear of rejection, that at the moment of being pushed away, it entirely self destructs because its only purpose was to love Dan and be loved by him. Its only purpose was to be perfect for Dan, to be enough for him, to be some action of Herberts blood sweat and tears that could ever be wanted by him. But of course Herbert doesn't understand Daniel - understand people - as well as he hoped too. Dan is horrified. No clearer rejection than that. If we see her as an extension of Herbert, it's obviously the last straw. Herbert truly did everything for Dan, not only was he still unlovable, but repulsive, an affront to... what have you; god, nature, some simple short-sighted ideal of what a human should be. Above that Dan could see the seams of the uncanny imitation of his past loves, and the love that laid beneath was too much for him. Too loud, too fast, too raw and bloody. So it dies. The heart is given, and thrown away.

What I'm trying to say is that shit was crazy. Herbert could have done a much more cut and dry baby trap. He could have reanimated some random kid, forcing Dan to stick around and protect it. That would have been its own special kind of fucked up and is probably a good fanfic prompt. But noooo, Herbert had to do the most psychosexual, convoluted, batshit, traumatizing, bloody, gory, and frankly unnecessary declaration of love that could be achieved by one little scientist with nothing to his name but a little green potion and every mental illness. I for one think it was a fantastic idea.

No tldr, ur just gonna have to match my freak on this one. Hope my mad ramblings made some sense. Peace and love

[scarlethexelove]

If you do a pt 5 the why are you here could you possibly show some grandma Wanda like after the baby is born, a maybe Agatha having a lactation/nursing kink? But if you decided to just leave it with the 4 chapter thank you so much for writing all that you have, and letting us have the privilege of reading such amazing work♥️

This Is Family

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 2679

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Enchanted Strap, Lactation kink, Cum Strap, Oral, Clothed sex, Grandmother!Wanda, Magic use, Small part of Pregnant reader, Little bit of breeding kink, Little bit of degration

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4

A/n: Hopefully this rounds it out nicely for everyone. After this I don't have plans to go any further. So I hope you like it.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The door swings open revealing your Mother. “Aww my baby!” Wanda says happily crouching down to the stroller cooing over your daughter. “Yes, while your actual baby is standing right here.” You say exasperated. Wanda pulls your daughter out of the stroller and places her on her hip. She leans in kissing your cheek with a bright smile. “Yes you’re my baby girl but this little cutie is my grandbaby.” She tickles your daughter's stomach. You playfully roll your eyes at your Moms antics. “Love you too Mom.” Wanda can’t help but be so excited to spend the night with her granddaughter. “I love you too sweetheart.” 

Agatha walks up behind you wrapping her arm around your waist and sliding beside you. “Wanda.” She acknowledges the other woman. “Agatha.” Wanda acknowledges back. Since the birth of your daughter four months ago, the two have been more civil. Both of them have more in common with you and your daughter being some of the most important things in their lives. Vowing to be civil and kind to one another for both of your sakes. 

After you forgave Agatha for what she had done you two agreed it would be a good idea for you two to move in together to raise your daughter together. Agatha really stepped up in your final months of pregnancy and has been an amazing Mother to your daughter Luna. Things have fallen into a comfortable new normal. 

Yesterday Wanda offered to watch Luna for you both so that you two can have a night out. Wanda has an ulterior motive in getting to spend the whole night with her granddaughter and to just spoil her rotten for the night, missing having a baby around. So she offered to get to have the time with Luna and you couldn’t help but jump at the chance. So here you are standing outside your Moms door dropping your daughter off, dressed up and ready to go out to dinner.

“Are you ready to go baby?” Agatha asks you, holding you closer to her. “Just about.” You make sure to put the diaper bag in the stroller. “I put enough pumped milk in there for the night with some extra just in case she goes through what she has normally been drinking. If she gets fussy she just might need-” Wanda cuts you off. “Sweetheart, I have raised three babies on my own. I think I can handle my adorable grandbaby.” You let out a sigh knowing she is right. “Sorry Mom. I’m just a little nervous to leave her.” She is gently rocking Luna. “I know. I will call if we need anything.” You smile. “Thank you Mom.” Your Mom gives you a soft smile. “You’re welcome. You look beautiful baby girl, enjoy your night. See you in the morning. Me and this little one are going to have an amazing night. ” She tickles Luna’s stomach which causes the girl to squirm.

You bid your Mom farewell as you walk the sidewalk back to your home. Agatha stops you in your tracks from behind. Her hands grip your hips as she kisses your exposed shoulder. You are clad in a spaghetti strap red dress that hugs your curves perfectly. Agatha looks beautiful in a form fitting suit. 

“Fuck you look so beautiful. I want you for my meal.” She sucks spots on your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as you try not to let out a moan. “A-Aggie, we h-have a reservation.” You stutter out as she nips and sucks. “I just want you.” She breathes out making your legs buckle. “Fuck take me inside.” You moan. You both quickly make your way back into the house.

Agatha turns to lock the door behind her, giving you the chance to let your dress drop off your body, pooling on the floor around your feet. Before she can even turn around you are already making your way to the bedroom. The only sign of you left is your dress on the floor. Agatha groans when she sees it. She starts kicking her shoes off and shrugs off her suit jacket. She chases after you unbuttoning her dress shirt as she makes her way into the bedroom. You are already laying seductively on the bed. You slowly uncross your legs letting Agatha see the wet spot forming on your panties. 

Agatha drops to her knees and crawls to the edge of the bed. She kneels between your legs. Kissing your ankle as she undoes the straps of your heels. Slowly kissing up your thigh as she slides it off. Doing the same to the other side. Your chest is heaving in anticipation as you watch Agatha between your legs. She continues to kiss up your legs and kisses your plump thighs before she leaves a kiss on the wet spot of your panites. 

You lean up and lace your fingers through her hair. “Aggie please don’t tease me. I’ve missed you.” You were just cleared for sex again and you just want her to use you. She smiles, placing another kiss before she is pulling back, hooking her finger in the waistband and pulling down your legs before throwing them to the side. She moans seeing your glistening folds already so wet for her. “Fuck baby girl you’re dripping.” 

You tug her closer, she lets you do so without a fight. You roll your hips into her face trying to get some kind of relief. Agatha relents and licks a strip through your folds causing both of you to moan. After tasting yours for the first time in months Agatha can’t help but dive in. She eats you out like a starved animal. Her tongue expertly licks and sucks your bundle of nerves. Her tongue sometimes dipping down into your entrance. You grip her hair tighter, her scalp burning from your hold only making her want to bring you more pleasure. 

“S-so good.” You moan. Your orgasm builds embarrassingly quick with how long it has been since you last had sex.  Agatha can tell that you are already close by the way your hip twitches and how you sloppily grind against her. “You gonna cum? Fuck such a whore ready to cum already and I’ve barely touched you.” She mumbles against your pussy. You nod and look down at her. Gasping when you see how she is intently staring at you already. She sucks your bundle of nerves harshly and scraps her teether over your clit. 

“Cum slut. Be my good girl and cum in my mouth.” You let out a wanton moan. Your legs shaking and clamping around Agatha’s head. Your orgasm washing over you as Agatha laps at your folds, swallowing your cum as you continue to rut your hips into her face. You pull her hair harshly as your back arches off the bed. Moans still tumbling from your lips. Agatha continues to lick and suck riding you through your orgasm only stopping when your body goes limp on the bed. 

Agatha leaves a small kiss on your engorged clit before she slowly kisses up your body. Sure to leave a few extra kisses on your breasts that are spilling from your bra. Before kissing you hard, making you taste yourself on her tongue making you moan in her mouth. She continues to kiss you until you're breathless. “Fuck baby girl.” She leans her forehead against yours panting with a smirk on her face. You let out a small chuckle as you calm down. 

Agatha’s hips drop down as she grinds down on you. You’re just now noticing the bulge in her pants as she grinds. Both of you moaning at the feeling, letting you know which strap she is wearing exactly. You wrap your legs around her waist and grind with her smearing your cum and arousal on her still clothed bulge. She groans feeling you grind back. “Aww does my poor baby want my big cock filling your tight little hole?” She fauxes innocence as you whine. “Please Aggie.” 

Neither of you want to wait any longer. Purple swirls around Agatha and yourself removing the rest of her clothes and the bra that your breast is already spilling out of. Agatha’s mouth waters seeing your swollen breast free from their confines. Milk is pebbling from your full breast. You look down seeing what she sees before you start pulling away. “S-sorry. I thought I pumped enough.” Agatha doesn’t let you get far from her though. “Oh baby girl I told you you were going to be my meal tonight.” She leans down and kisses your leaking nipple. You don’t even notice how you're grinding against her strap already. Agatha looks at you hungirly making a gush of arousal leak out of you. 

“P-Please.” You beg not exactly knowing what you want. Whether you want Agatha to either fuck you or to drink you dry. Your heavy breast begging for her mouth. Or do you want her to do both? “What do you want, hmm? Do you want me to fuck you full of my cum? Do you want me to suck these full tits dry? Or you want me to fuck you while I suck you dry?” You’re not sure how she knows exactly what to ask but she does. Your only response is to moan at her words. “I bet my whore wants me to fuck her while sucking her dry. Isn’t that right baby?” You nod at her words, pulling her closer with your legs and grinding against her.  

Agatha lines her strap with your entrance before slowly pushing in. Your tight warm walls eloping her cock making her groan. “Fuck so tight.” She mumbles leaning down and starts to suck purplish red marks on your breast. Your hand threads through her hair trying to push her towards your nipple wanting her to relieve the fullness of your breast. She smirks against you letting you guide her where you want her. As her strap is fully sheathed in you she wraps her lips around your nipple licking over it before she sucks. Your warm sweet milk filling her mouth and sliding down her throat. She moans at the sweet taste adding to one of her favorite tastes of you.

“Oh fuck.” You moan and arch your back pushing your breast further into Agatha’s mouth. She starts to thrust her hips. Pulling the strap all the way out before slamming her hips back in. Your walls clenching around her strap as she laps at your milk and fucks your pussy. Whimpers and moans fall from your lips as Agatha continues her ministrations on your body.  When your walls clamp down on Agatha she moans around your nipple, some of your milk dribbling out and down your sides. 

You continue to buck your hips to meet Agatha’s thrust. When your milk turns to a dribble Agatha kitten licks your nipple and leaves a kiss before switching to the other side. Wrapping her lips around the other nipple as her hips piston into you. You let your head fall back as your grip tightens on her hair. Agatha loves the burn of your grip. Both of you are building to your releases. 

“Mmm.” You moan loudly as your head falls back and you continue to roll your hips into Agatha’s. Your walls tighten around her strap bringing her to the edge. Agatha holds back wanting you to cum with her. She knows that you are close. Her hips slamming harshly into yours as she grips your hips tightly. You don’t know how much longer you can hold back as your walls tighten and your legs tremble. “W-wanna cum.” You let out a breathy moan. 

Agatha sucks harshly on your nipple drinking you dry. “Cum for me.” She mumbles against your breast. You silently scream as you release all over Agatha’s cock. Agatha feeling your walls squeeze her tightly she cums filling your tight hole. Her hips stutter, painting your walls white and filling you full. She ruts her hips against yours as she releases your nipple, some milk pebbling around your nipple as she lays her forehead against your chest. 

Your hand rakes through Agatha’s hair as she helps ride the both of you through your highs. She thrusts slowly until she comes to a stop. Staying completely sheathed inside of you making sure none of her cum leaks out. Agatha wraps her arms around your waist tightly as she nuzzles your chest. Your hand moving to rub her back. Both of you breathing heavily as you calm down. 

“I love you.” You say softly in the mostly quiet air. Agatha kisses your chest and mumbles against your skin. “I love you too baby girl.” You both smile, enjoying the softness between you two. The softness only lasting for a short time before the two of you continue to fuck through the night only stopping long enough to get some pizza and water. 

The air is filled with laughter and screams of your children. Still young, the prophecy pushed to the back of your mind for the time being. You watch how your brothers chase your kids around the pool. Luna jumping into your Mom’s arms for protection which works like a charm. Your twins Cordelia and Raven are running towards you at full speed.  

You're laying on a pool chair with your belly swollen with your fourth child. Agatha wanted to try for a boy after three girls. Which you of course agreed with. Successfully getting pregnant with the little boy that all of you are excited for. Agatha sits in the chair beside you reading her book. 

The twins jump into your lap getting away from Tommy as he stops in front of you. “Girls be careful. Mommy is growing your little brother in her tummy and you don’t want to hurt either of them do you?” Agatha lowers her sunglasses and lightly scolds the twins. “Sorry Mommy. Sorry Momma.” You smile at your girls and pinch their cheeks. “It’s ok.” They both swat your hands away as they climb slowly around your body. Luna crawls from your Mom’s lap and runs over joining the twins. 

“Hey I’m not a jungle gym.” You chuckle and the girls all giggle still climbing on your. “Hey, is anyone going to help me over here?” You call out to the other adults only getting chuckles from the rest of them. “You’re on your own sweetheart.” Wanda smiles leaning back and getting some sun in her chair. You gasp. “Mom, I thought you wanted your sweet grandbabies.” She chuckles again. “They want their Mommy it looks like.” She gives you a smile and the kids all giggle in your lap. 

“Aggie?” You look over to your wife who just smirks and shakes her head. You gasp at her response. “So I’m heavily pregnant with your little man and a jungle gym for your little girls?” Agatha gives you a pointed look. “Our little girls.” You playfully roll your eyes. Agatha smiles getting up and picking up the twins in each arm which causes them to squeal in glee. Your Mom making her way over and picking up Luna and bouncing her around making her also squeal in glee. 

You're now watching as your family laughs and squeals happily. Your Mom and Agatha are now chasing the girls around with your brothers behind the woman. You can’t believe how far your life has come in the last 6 years but you are so glad that you are where you are now. The love of an ever growing family. You have the best partner who has given you the world. Your Mom is the best grandmother to your kids and your brothers being the fun uncles that your girls love so much. Your heart swells with love as you rub your stomach, just imagining how your dynamic will change with the addition of your little man. A wide smile excited for what is to come in the future.

[dailyrothko]

Scans ( a little long)

When I ask people not to steal my scans I assure you it has nothing to do with my ego. I have relationships with a number of people that trust me to provide full credits and copyrights and supervise, as much as possible, how things are used. And it gets a little complex, like some people will give me a photo I can only use on instagram. I have to honor these agreements.

And, Rothko paintings are copyrighted so, unlike some artists, if you make tee shirts or use it in a movie or something , it's actually illegal (without permission) They are not going to come after you for casual use of you own, but I know of many examples where people were hit with a copyright notice for trying to profit in the work.

It took me a long time to build these relationships and get all of these scans, including many i have done myself. I gave myself this Rothko job I do, and because of that I didn't have background to give me things or answer questions. It was only after years of doing it that people started to reach out to me in a bigger way and help.

The art world is strange, I was talking to a museum curator recently and there several questions I had that I was told they were not at liberty to answer. In the case of Rothko, there's nothing really cloak and dagger about it, it's just the family (who I think are great) fought really hard for these rights and spend a lot of time trying to control how the work is used and seen. It's a good thing because we get things like the Paris exhibit which took an insane amount of planning, loans, insurance etc. All the paintings had to be inspected before they were shipped over seas, in case damage was done to them over there. These paintings are BIG and in the hands of many different people, so it really took tons of effort and (sadly) money to do it, but it's something like (can't recall exactly) 179 paintings. The biggest Rothko show since 1978.

People on tumblr do sometimes (as we all know) take stuff from here or from my other social media accounts and I know it's typical social media behavior, as people like the credit and notes to their own blog, but I mention this now because I have some things coming up that almost no one has ever seen and I don't want to lose this privilege because I won't be able to show you cool stuff and big scans.

So, sorry for the ponderousness, I just thought a little background might explain that I'm not just being grumpy about it. I think people may see it as "It's the internet get over yourself" but I honestly feel a responsibility to do the best I can for people following these accounts and I am just trying to keep doing it and hopefully, expand as I go.

This blog started on out tumblr and it was the support of all of you that made me continue it, I will be 10 years in July. I can't take a lot of credit for it, it's not my art. My only idea was the once a day aspect. However, I try to do my homework and striving for accuracy is part of that, including copyrights and credits.

So thanks for everything too, people participating in this has been very valuable and educational for me.

[remotepixel]

Hi! I love your writing!!! Is it okay if I request yandere plantonic Tony stark for the reader and Peter Parker who are siblings? Like Peter is Tony's intern and then he one days meets the reader at like a dance recital or something. Sorry if this is too specific.

Hi!!! I'm so happy you like my writing and thank you for requesting! Don't worry about being too specific :)

TW: yandere themes

-Tony is a jealous person, so he doesn’t really like how happy Peter is when rambling about you during the lab sessions - blood-related or not, Tony wants the attention on himself. However, he’s able to get a rough picture of you thanks to all the information being thrown at him, and, despite his possessiveness, he is very slightly inclined to like you, even if it’s just due to Peter.

-It wasn’t until Peter was practically begged him to come and watch your dance recital though did he properly meet you. You were sweet, and watching you interact with your brother, who he was already viewing as his own kid, brought up the same parental instincts.

-If you share the same intelligence, he’d offer you a place at Starks Industries as well. It means he can keep you safely in his lab, right to him, and gives him a solid way to bond with you. Plus, as much as he won’t admit to his selfishness, it does keep you dependant on him - after all it’s a sure-fire way to get recommend to a good college, and a future job at SI; you wouldn’t want to go against him if it could mean this much.

-If not or your interests lay outside of tech (e.g. dance), he’ll be a bit disappointed, but otherwise invest in making sure you get the best opportunities through his various networkers and whatever else you need to achieve those dreams.

-He feels out of his depth whenever he tries talking to you about it. Sure, he spent hours educating himself and could probably act like he understands, but he doesn’t like not knowing things, or feeling unsure of himself. It won’t be until you confirm he’s correct or compliment him for knowing so much that he feels more comfortable, practically preening under your gaze (he’ll immediately get flustered if he’s wrong though).

-It’d be a lot easier if he could just talk about the mechanisms of his new suit or impress you with his amazing ideas involving complex physics equations he knows at least Peter would love to hear about.

-Though, if it’s for you, he’d happily sit and watch your every competition. He’d probably record it too, adding it to his ever-growing folder, and brag about how talented his kid you are (he gets irritated if they seem too interested; he doesn’t want anyone stealing you away).

-His biggest form of showing he cares is gift-giving. He can’t give you a new suit or webshooters to win your favour, so it’d be more personalised based on what you like (e.g. a show or hobby). As well as that, he’s giving you a stupid - maybe a bit mean - nickname. It’s in his blood to do so, he won’t apologize (he would. One tear and he’s backpedalling like crazy).

-He’s already gone through the motions of putting trackers and overprotective security measures on Peter, so it’s pretty easy when he does it for you. Obviously he doesn’t need to stress about you getting stabbed in alleyways unlike a certain spider, but his paranoia still remains.

-He likes keeping logs on you - where you are, with who - just in case he needs to swoop in. Since he’s your brother’s boss (and you probably heard all about his habits from Peter before anyways) you probably shrug it off, thinking he’s just trying to keep you safe due to your high-profile connections rather than out of an obsessive need.

-In general, it’d be hard to get away from him or his tendencies. You don’t want to upset Peter (who’s likely still slightly blinded by his hero worship) so you go along with it as well. Even if you do somewhat ignore Tony , he would likely bring it up in a lab session, leading to Peter bringing it up to you, and just making it the same situation as before.

[nocherrybombs]

That Good Ol' Natlan Hospitality

Mavuika: Am I really the first archon to attempt to properly welcome you to their nation?

Lumine: More or less. The Anemo Archon mostly wandered off doing his own thing, by which I mean he spent a lot of time singing, drinking and stealing stuff.

Paimon: Barbatos put in no effort at all, so Paimon gave him an ugly nickname.

Lumine: Right. And the Geo Archon... uh. Died, I guess. Honestly, it was very inconvenient for everyone involved.

Paimon: Morax sure runs his mouth a lot for a dead guy.

Lumine: Let's see, what else? ...oh yeah, the Raiden Shogun tried to kill us the first time we met. That wasn't especially nice of her.

Mavuika: I'm sorry, did you just say that Baal tried to kill you?! Why in the world would she do that?

Lumine: Apparently I was an "enemy of eternity" or something. Ei isn't all that good at thinking these things through before she pulls out her sword and starts shooting lightning at people.

Paimon: She's so scary! Paimon was lucky to get out of Inazuma alive.

Lumine: Sumeru was okay. Nahida was super chill and fun to hang out with. I'm sure she would have been more accommodating if she hadn't been locked up in baby jail.

Mavuika: I heard about that after the fact. I had no idea Buer was struggling so much. I would have tried to help if I had known.

Lumine: Don't blame yourself, the entire situation was fucked. The first time I met her was inside an endlessly recurring cyclic nightmare. But it's okay, we fixed the problem.

Paimon: Yeah, and by "fixed the problem" she means "beat up a bunch of Fatui"!

Mavuika: Sweet, rock on.

Lumine: That wasn't too bad, but then we got to Fontaine and the first thing Furina did was challenge us to a fight and try to get us arrested.

Mavuika: That sounds like Focalors.

Lumine: In Furina's defense, there's context. It's just that nobody knew about any of the context until way later, so it felt really unhinged at the time.

Mavuika: I can't even begin to imagine.

Lumine: That's about it. Up until now, you are the only archon to offer us anything even remotely close to a normal reception.

Mavuika: In that case, it's my pleasure to warmly welcome you to Natlan. I hope you will enjoy your time here, please sit back and relax... is what I would like to say, but one of my citizens has gotten herself trapped in the afterlife and it would be totally rad if you could help us rescue her.

Lumine, sighing and drawing her Dull Blade: Ugh, fine, it's not like I wasn't going to end up there looking for primogems and Pyroculi anyways. So, what's the fastest way to get to hell?

[cz19y]

Heyyy, I was wondering if you could pls do head canons with sae, rin, isagi, n shidou (separately) w/ a fem!s/o who is thick (big booty n pudgy stomach)? It can be either sfw or nsfw. No pressure tho, take ur time n have a good day! 💕

MY LOVELY ! [HCs]

Multiple × Thick!Fem!Reader

FT.: Sae & Rin Itoshi, Isagi Yoichi, Shidou Ryusei

∆ SFW/fluff & suggestive, mention of bad comments, hint of insecurity, mention of abandonment issues[Rin’s part], characters aged up, OOC[? prob], some of them will be quite short[sorry], first time writing thick!Reader, grammar spelling errors[?].

NOTE: I never had an ask before and I have NO experience in writing for thick!Reader, so, perdon me for bad writing (:’0

I tried to do some research/reference from other fics cuz I really don't want to get y’all uncomfortable with incorrect wording, perdon me once again. Aside from that; I was shocked when I saw that I had a surprise in my inbox[I was giggling and going crazy bc I got nervous]. I hope I got the request right ! Srry if not :0

[ Stating . . . ]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ SAE ITOSHI

Glares and glares hard when someone makes you uncomfortable.

Likes to steal you from whatever is occupying your precious attention and makes ya take his afternoon nap with him.

Pinches softly your sides — finds it soft.

His fetish can be clear as a say behind locked doors haha-

No place on this earth is better to take a nap on your tummy.

He had no idea of what to do when you first got insecure — he’s aware he lacks comforting skills and for that moment, he was desperate to learn it for the sake of his heart to see you happy again.

Keeps you away from the public's eye if you're comfortable with attention.

But if you're okay being seen in public, he's also okay.

Although, he likes keeping you to himself.

His manager is tired of him running off or ditching him to some place because he saw something that you’d like.

I feel like he'd get a little jealous when you interact with Shidou a little too much.

Keeping you away from Shidou.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ RIN ITOSHI

Takes notice of every outfit and his eyes soften every time he can admire you.

So pretty. So beautiful.

Thinks you're breathtaking and will shut down whatever makes you uncomfortable or insecure.

His words are sharp — nobody dares talk badly about you anymore if that was ever the case.

Rin craves touch if knowing him enough — watching horror movies while cuddling are the best.

Tries his best to comfort you whenever insecure.

“Don't let those lukewarm lowlifes get to you.”

If his lover worries about him going for someone better; just know that he’ll never do that.

He knows what it feels like to be abandoned — he’s somewhat emotionally mature[I think], Rin wouldn't get emotionally attached to someone just to abandon them.

“You know I’ll never abandon you, idiot.”

Reassures the best he can.

Likes kissing your gummy hands. Adores how they feel.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ISAGI YOICHI

Hypnotized when you sit.

The fat of your thighs only makes him lose the goody-shoes manner he has.

Dreams of sleeping in between your tight.

Fetish aside, finds you stunning.

Really- he worships you with stars in his eyes and kisses all over his beloved, favorite girl without being asked or hesitant.

Likes cuddling after practice or a tired day. You fill out his energy bar like no one can.

A feeling of proudness washes over him seeing you getting along with his friends.

Slur Isagi can be found outside the field if anyone talks bad about you.

begs Talks to Chigiri to give him some tips with girl stuff cuz he has no experience with it.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ SHIDOU RYUSEI

Absolutely in love with you.

No matter your form — thick, chubby, fat, — he doesn't care.

Says it's even better that you have that extra fluffiness.

Can't keep his hands to himself — adores how your tummy is soft and warm.

I can picture him taking a chomp out of you.

You're not allowed to feel insecure, not under his watch 🗣️🗣️

We all know he slapped your booty [more than] once.

His whole team is tired of him talking about his girlfriend — especially Rin, he’s ready to cut out his ears and fill out the hole with concrete.

Likes your tummy rolls. Finds them adorable.

You two can go nonstop about anything and everything half asleep while his hand caresses your sides.

[glossysoap]

READY TO COMPLY : preview

preview of a soap x reader x ghost poly fic where reader disappears during a mission and gets declared KIA, but reader was really captured by russians (mayhaps a group called.. hydra? 👀)

edit: this fic is in progress, and you can read the chapters here!

warnings : very teeny tiny use of y/n purely for that iconic line at the end, and switching from “they” to “you” at the end, because of the reveal. also please know that this is just me rambling about it, this is not the actual fic. the actual fic will be a lot longer, more official looking and the fight scenes will be more fleshed out, etc. but i just wanted to give y’all an idea.

also the whole reader turned winter soldier concept was inspired by @joshhsojj ! sorry to tag, just wanted to give credit just in case. <3

a year or so after they’re captured, 141 is on a mission in DC when they come across a masked soldier causing destruction on a highway overpass, along with some hydra backup. the soldier jumps off the overpass and lands standing on a vehicle right in front of 141’s jeep. before Soap could start rambling about, “how th’ fuck didn’t that shatter their knees?” the masked soldier was already storming towards them while shooting their assault rifle.

for the sake of plot and good old angst, imagine everyone else on 141 is busy taking out the hydra backup— while ghost and soap are working on taking down the soldier.

in the back of their minds, the two men see the similarities between reader and the masked soldier, mainly being the height and build. their hair is the same shade, but more shaggy and wet looking. the soldiers’ eyes almost looked the same too, except the soldiers’ messy hair would never stay out of the way long enough for the two men to get a good look. the rest of the soldiers’ face was covered thanks to a black mask. both of the men fought hard to shove the sense of familiarity to the back of their minds in order to quell the current threat. that proved to be difficult when soap sent a hard kick to the soldiers’ face, dislodging the mask with a click.

revealing the rest of the soldiers’ face, of their readers face. readers mouth was set in a snarl and their jaw clenched. and just then, some wind blew the hair out of readers face for a split second and ghost and soap saw the eyes that they’ve been dreaming of for over a year. the eyes they’ve been mourning. except now those same eyes that used to look at them with love and adoration were now glaring at them with disdain. soap and ghosts’ hearts dropped.

soap is the first to talk. “y/n?”

“who the hell is y/n?”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[nymph-ette111]

Hello again! Its me the one who requested the proxies with a forest ranger S/o

I sawed your post and kinda went 😮 when I found out forest rangers and fire looksouts aren’t the same thing too ngl. I originally got the idea when I watched/played ‘Fears to fathom: Ironbark lookout’. I actually looked it up and I guess the correct term would be “Park ranger” (I still don’t know bro I could be wrong) but I originally got the idea from the fears to fathom so I guess you could kinda base it off that (minus the cult) but I just thought it would be a cool idea. Like for example on the fire watch aspect, Tim is chronic Smoker and Toby is canonically a pyromaniac (idk about brain in this situation) so like Tim could be smoking or toby could be setting something on fire and you would be side eyeing tf out of them. OR, You could just be trying to peacefully sleep in your watch tower (assuming there is one) and One of them would be knocking at your damn door/window in the dead ass of the night and your just there either terrified, confused, or annoyed (its up to your interpretation).

But anyway sorry for the ramble and confusion, As always I appreciate you and hope you have a wonderful day (remember to drink water) buh/bye now <3

(♡) Authors note; in my old author's note I literally said it was inspired byironbark lookout but then I hesitated bcs I thought it wasn't what you're looking for. good thing I didn't delete the previous work :3 SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT I DIDN'T HAVE ANY MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING :(

HOODIE;

-before the relationship between you two, he knew about your job as a park ranger/ fire lookout.

-actually, he knew about everything. From the tasks you usually handle to your working schedule.

-the reason he didn't kill you off was because part of your job is keeping campers away from the unregistered camp grounds which was quite convenient on his part. (Perhaps convenient for all of them)

-that way he wouldn't risk getting caught on the way/back from a mission, even though he usually drives to his destinations with a beaten up old truck. He knows how nosey some people are and would definitely pull a curiosity move and possibly find his resort.

-but he also couldn't let you run around freely around the forest either, he just kept an eye on you for a while in case you were too close to finding out about his...'business'

-i can see him stalking you slowly seeping into his routine. could be out of curiosity or genuine interest.

-during your relationship, he'd drop by from time to time in the watch tower even though it's against the rules. He'll be careful, he says.

-he's still an asshole very much like his friends, would probably disregard his mudded hiking boots by the entrance and just throw himself on your bed. Not caring if whatever substance he was covered in (blood) stains your bedsheets or something.

-to make up for it he cooks you food with whatever ingredients you have to offer :3 I like to think he's a good cook, staying out in the forest for long periods of time gained him that skill.

-if he isn't too busy, you two would watch the scenery together :) a little nice bonding moment.

MASKY;

-sigh... This motherfucker would NOT be good company for you at all.

-you could be sleeping peacefully just to wake up and find him standing at the foot of your bed just...staring.

-he's making sure they don't get you lol

-who the fuck is "they" (...does anyone get the reference)

-steals any lighters he finds in the shack just to light up his cigarettes.

-yes, when he puts out his cigarettes he just throws them on the ground. not caring if it's against the rules to litter the forest. at this point they're all trying to get you in trouble whether it's intentionally or not.

-unlike Toby, he doesn't help around that much with your tasks.

-if you manage to convince him to bring up some firewood from the shack so you can light up the fire, just praise him. it's enough to boost his already humongous ego and he might consider helping every now and then just so you could call him your strong, manly boyfrie–

TOBY;

-This stupid fucker would send you disturbing messages on his old ass flip phone at night whenever you still have the planks up.

-some shit like 'i c yu :-)'

-... yeah he never likes typing his sentences properly because he still uses those number keyboards (I don't know what they're called)

-it gives you a heart attack everytime untill you look out the window and see that it's Toby being a weirdo again.

-like anon said, he always sets random stuff on fire which always gets him in trouble, you end up reminding him that you aren't the only fire lookout in the forest and that another worker will report it.

-he doesn't listen.

-he definitely scares off any campers in areas they aren't supposed to be. Hey, at least he isn't completely useless!

-the opposite of Brian/Hoodie, instead of cooking for you he absolutely ravishes anything you have in the fridge.

-no, he isn't sorry.

-other than the things that he does to piss you off he actually does help from time to time like helping you fill in the service reporting— using the anemometer, checking the thermometer...etc

-he thinks the devices look neat :)

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

after reading “Allergies (Not Really)” I CRAVED more Reader and Mia, and I brainstormed many ideas until I thought of the perfect one.

A couple years later, there’s a case in the town Mia now stays at. Reader and Hotch were talking to the principal at Mia’s school and Mia was walking in the halls, spotted Reader, and immediately ran to him, hugging him. Reader was shocked, but quickly recognized the girl and nearly starts crying.

(If you choose to do this, you can add/get rid of anything :D)

A/N: Annnd I'm back. I think? Anyways, this has been in the making for yonks so hopefully you enjoy it. Also, sorry if you've been tagged twice I kind of just went crazy and made sure everyone was definitely tagged aha.

Description: Mia and reader reunite, chaos ensues.

Warnings: gun shots, unsubs go to the school, guns, schools targeted, criminal minds levels of violence (maybe even on the slightly tamer side).

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @pinxeajin @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @winterwitchxxfan @introvertpan84 @iliketozoneout @percyorigins @logicalhorror

"(Y/N), you're with me, we're heading to the school," Hotch says and you nod. That didn't seem too bad. You both headed there, talking to the principal for a while, trying to gather the facts, gathering everything the principal could offer in relation to the case. You suspected that the unsub that was attacking the students was a previous student here (or possibly multiple previous students).

Mia's eyes widen when she spots you in the corridor, dropping her bag, she races towards you.

You stumble on impact, confusion covering your face, "Wha-?"

She looks up at you as she quickly wipes her eyes, "Texas?"

"Mia?!" Your eyes widen, "Holy-" You cut yourself off, reminding yourself that you were in a school. Mia doesn't say anything, simply hugging you tighter and you follow suit, trying to ignore the stinging in your eyes and the lump beginning to form in the back of your throat.

She grins up at you, seeing your eyes red rimmed, "Let me guess, allergies?"

"Yep." You answered with a nod.

A boy jogs up to the pair of you, holding a bag in his right hand in addition to his backpack. "Mia you... ran off... so fast..." The boy gasps out, placing his free hand on his hips, face flushed. "Nearly.... trampled to... death..."

Mia rolls her eyes, "You're so dramatic," She laughs and the boy shoots her a grin.

"But it was good acting though."

"Mediocre at best," Mia teases.

"Who's this?" You ask Mia, turning to the boy stood next to her.

"This is my boyfriend, Jake," She smiles and you give her a soft smile before turning to Jake (the smile quickly disappearing). "Jake, this is the FBI agent I met when, you know..."

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Jake says, giving you a small smile, "Mia's told me a lot about you."

"I'm sure you're a nice kid," You said slowly, choosing your words carefully. "But if you hurt her, I have a gun n I ain't afraid to use it,"

"(Y/N), you can't go around threatening people," Hotch said, sighing deeply.

"It's merely a warnin',"

"Okay, chill your beans, Texas," Mia huffs, "Jake's a nice guy, so just chill,"

"I'm just sayin'-"

"Chill, Texas." Mia said, crossing her arms before she furrows her eyebrows, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Recent murders," You said, "BAU got called in,"

"That makes sense," Jake nodded slightly.

"How about you? You have anyone special?" Mia grins as your cheeks tint pink. "Oh my god you do?! Who are they?!"

"You remember Agent Jareau?" When Mia nods, you continued, "She and I are... courtin',"

"Courting?" Mia snorts, "So you're dating?! How's that going?"

"'S goin' good," You said with a small nod, "But I ain't 'bout to talk to a kid about my datin' life,"

Mia rolls her eyes, "You know I'm not a kid, right?"

"Nah, you're still a kid," You replied and she huffed slightly.

A few days had passed, everything was fine until Hotch sent you back to the school to check in to see if the principal had thought of anything new that would aid the investigation when everything went…tits up.

There was, in fact, a group of unsubs and, after you had made your way to the library. It was a relatively small library but a library nonetheless.

You press your hand firmly against the steadily bleeding wound on your stomach, what with the gun pressed to your head and the threats of the unsub shooting a student, you force yourself to stay still. You could take them all and you weren't good to any of them dead.

The most you can do is talk, try to distract them long enough for the team to breach. "You've got me, surely that's enough?" Are the words that pool out of your mouth.

"Why would that be enough?"

"Can I reach into my back pocket to grab my ID?" The unsub nods, the other's finger close to the trigger, just in case. You reach behind you with your least bloody hand, fishing your badge from your back pocket. "I'm SSA (Y/N), I work for the FBI as a part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit."

"Well, well, well, we bagged ourselves an FBI agent!" The leader cheers, you watch out of the corner of your eye as Mia jumps, clinging on to Jake's hand like a lifeline.

"Let the kids go." You say, "They'll be more willin' to cooperate with you."

"Oh, we don't want their cooperation." He sneers, "We want to cause as much pain and suffering as possible before we go out. Now... who should we start with?" His eyes glide across the room before they land on Mia. "You. Come here."

"Hey, no, leave the kids out of this-" Your head snaps to the side as the butt of the gun collides with your head.

You watch as Jake moves in front of her. "I'll take her place."

"No, Jake-"

Jake shoots her a soft smile before shaking his head, "It's alright."

"Aw, how sweet." The unsub taunts. Jake walks forward until he's in front of the unsub.

You stagger to your feet, "Why don't you stop bein' pathetic and targettin' kids, huh?" You raise an eyebrow, "What is it, you that weak that you can only ass'rt dominance over kids?"

He points the gun and you force yourself to stand, tackling him to the floor. When his gun clatters, you reach for it, aiming it and taking the unsub’s out, one by one.

The gun shoots as you had tackled him to the group, piercing Jake's stomach. When you tackled the unsub to the floor, he had squeezed the trigger on instinct. You manage to grab the gun, shooting him, and then his friends, one by one. They're sluggish to react, not having expected this.

And soon enough, they're all down. You go to them, one by one to take their weapons. You then turn to the students to make sure they're all alright. Your eyes immediately shoot to Mia, and the figure on the ground next to her. You stagger to them, dropping to your knees.

You quickly wipe one hand down your jeans, cleaning the blood off it as much as you can before you push down against Jake's stomach to stem the bleeding.

"Just hold on,” You give him a reassuring smile before you turn to Mia, “Mia, you need to run down the hall, let people know we're in here."

"But Jake-"

"I've got him, you need to get help,"

Mia nods before she rushes off.

"Jake?" You shake him ever so slightly and his eyes flutter open to look up at you, "Mia's gone to get you some help, you just need to hold on," Jake gave a shaking nod.

"Mia-?"

"Is absolutely fine. You did good kid, real good." You give him a small smile, pressure still on the wound.

"Thanks," Jake bites out, grinding his teeth in pain.

"And hey, you're taking this really well. I know grown men who cry for their Mamas," You say, giving him a reassuring smile.

Jake huffs a small laugh, wincing slightly. And soon enough, Mia runs back in with some medics and your team.

You look up at them, "they're all down, gsw. Only Jake here is injuried, I believe." You say.

Hotch raises an eyebrow, "And yourself," He says.

You shake your head, "'M fine, sir,"

"Liar," Is all Hotch replies with. You huff, "Don't even try to argue it. You're both going to the hospital."

Turning, you look at Jake and decide not to argue. You give a short nod.