#can you tell I'm watching criminal minds again?

[awkwardlyflustered]

The idea of Morgan trying so hard not grab Garcia or squirm away when she tickles him because they're both having too much fun and he loves her to death. Him trying to reign in his strength but he's so ticklish.

Someone please remind me to write for this when I'm not 200% sleep deprived

#can you tell I'm watching criminal minds again?

[izzyreadingblog]

Popcorn | Alexia Putellas x reader

+18 minors please do not read it.

A/N: English is not my first language and i'm a newbie writing this type of content, sorry if is bad and for the mistakes.

(I just can't take out of my head Alexia's goal and celebration after seeing it only a couple of meters away from me, I need to write something for her. )

Alexia and you have been getting more and more close as the season went by. Now every week the two of you have at least one movie night to be able to spend time together. The both of you have been dancing around your feelings for months and after the constant teasing you had suffered from Patri and Pina, you decided that tonight you were going to act on your feelings and see how things go. 

So as the both of you were watching a criminal documentary (Alexia’s favorite) you weren't paying much attention to, you tried to think of a way of telling Alexia your feelings and after 15 minutes of no ideas, one came to mind. Alexia was the most competitive person you have ever met, so you were going to see if she wanted to play along with you and have you as the final present. 

So as Alexia picked a popcorn and went to put it in her mouth, you bowed a little and grabbed the popcorn with your teeth, snatching it from Alexia’s hand, she gave you one of her looks and you smiled at her as you went to go back to your position, when you felt Alexia's hand on the back of your neck, keeping you there and not letting you move.

“Do you want another one mi niña?” Her warm breath stroked your face.

A new popcorn landed on the blonde's lips, that time, you removed the popcorn with your tongue, with which you licked Alexia's lips. Alexia, at your action, breathed heavily and looked at your lips while licking her own.

"Another one?" Alexia asked with a grin on her face.

“Uhm..” you said cause you were thinking. 

Did Alexia want to provoke you too? Well, if that’s the case two can play the game. 

You nodded and Alexia placed another popcorn in her mouth, you grabbed it by joining your lips to Alexia's, you chewed the popcorn without separating your lips and, when you swallowed it, you took out your tongue and licked your lips, a gesture that included Alexia's lips too, who sighed.

"Did you want to eat your popcorn, my love?" you asked in a seductive voice.

“Only if you give them to me…”

“What do you think about eating the popcorn from my body?” You didn't know what you were doing, you were just getting carried away for the moment and hoping Alexia would play into it. 

Alexia stared at you, a lot of thoughts going through her mind as you finished saying your proposal. 

Is she serious or was she kidding you?  Alexia didn’t know what to do, your relationship was not clear, you were friends and she didn’t want to make a mistake, she felt scared and she didn’t want to lose this relationship. 

Alexia was silent and on her mind when you moved and stretched on the couch and lifted your shirt without discovering your breasts, only leaving your belly in the air, and taking a handful of the white popcorn Alexia was eating, you placed them carefully on your abdomen, spreading them. 

Alexia got out of her mind and swallowed saliva as she looked at you with desire in her eyes but still with doubts and fear that could be sensed clearly by you just looking at her.

“Oh,” you said, making a pout as you sensed Alexia’s doubts. “Don't tell me you don't want to eat the popcorn anymore” You mused sitting down, causing all the popcorn to fall on the couch.

Alexia regained her composure and with her captain voice (the one that ignites you) says "Lie down again, now" and you obeyed her without resistance. 

Alexia took a few popcorns and placed them again on your belly, scattering around each piece on your skin as soon as you lay down and stayed still. 

You felt a warmth invade your body while Alexia was placing the popcorn on your skin, her touch made you dizzy. Were you drunk? No, you weren't. You were horny.

Alexia knelt in front of the couch and bowed her head to catch each popcorn with her mouth. You could feel her warm breath hitting you every time she repeated the action and you wished that she would not move that fast and touch you more. 

As Alexia was touching you, you felt your abdomen tighten, your skin started tingling, and you had to force yourself to stay in the same position and not drop the popcorn that was left on your skin.

Alexia took her time and ate all the popcorn that was there, and you raised your head to look at her, then you saw how she bent down again and you had to swallow saliva when you saw that Alexia's mouth was very dangerously close to the waistband of your pants. Alexia then moved a little further down and buried her head between your slightly raised legs. You felt a strong heat forming between your legs.

“You shouldn't have gotten up before, now there's popcorn everywhere… eres una chica mala” Alexia complained playfully.

You sighed when the blonde bowed again, the shorts did not cover your legs much, therefore, you felt Alexia's hair caressing your skin, her lips colliding with your legs when she grabbed the popcorn that was left there.

"You can stop," you told her.

“But I'm hungry...-” Alexia complained with a pout on her face. 

“Ale please…”

"I'm not going to get up until I eat every popcorn in your body," Alexia said, throwing a handful more popcorn at you.

You sighed heavily when Alexia's tongue ran down your belly, picking up the popcorn that was on you. You weren't very sure how it had happened, but your shirt had gone up more than you had lifted it up and now it showed something of your breasts, your shorts had the waistband down and Alexia's mouth went from the bottom up and vice versa every single time she ate a piece of popcorn.

You are having a really hard time breathing as you are trying not to moan. But how can you avoid it with those sensual caresses?

"Have you... are you done yet?" you asked. Why was your voice so hoarse?

Alexia looked up and looked at you smiling. You couldn't help but look at her mouth, she was so sensual and provocative after having gone through your entire belly several times.

“Uhm…” you noticed that Alexia was looking at your breasts and had to swallow saliva. If Alexia keeps her act up you would totally lose yourself. “It seems to me that there is a hidden popcorn here…”

You swallowed saliva when Alexia leaned over you, and her mouth grazed one of your breasts and you could feel how she took a deep breath, trying to control herself and put her nerves at bay.

"It seems to me that this piece doesn't want to go out," Alexia murmured. "But don’t worry I  won't let it beat me."

You felt Alexia’s tongue licking near your nipple. Alexia stood on top of you, without touching you, she had a hand on each side of your body and she held herself with them. She lifted your shirt a little more while her tongue kept struggling with that popcorn that was hiding in that area.

"Take it now please, do something, take it now," You begged. Either Alexia would take her already or you would end up totally losing yourself.

Holy God. When had you come up with that stupid game, in which you had made yourself totally available to Alexia? If you got up, if you said that the game was over and you locked yourself in your room, that torture would end... but what a sweet torture it is.

The air caressed your erect nipples and you couldn't help but gasp when you felt the blonde's long hair caressing them as she moved.

"Ale, please," you said, desperately.

"I got it," Alexia whispered.

Why did you feel that that popcorn didn't exist? Alexia's nose stroked one of your breasts, slowly and gently, until she reached the top.

With your eyes wide open, although clouded by that rough desire, you watched her. You opened your mouth to try and say something but only a sweet moan escaped from your throat when Alexia's lips closed around one of your nipples. If you felt hot and wet before, now you feel like your whole body is burning with desire. Alexia had just lit a lustful fire inside you that was going to be difficult to extinguish. A liquid heat lodged in your crotch, wetting your panties. You twisted under Alexia and arched your back without being able to avoid it. Your breathing had been agitated and you didn't know how to control it.

“I want you so bad”. Alexia’s words made you stop thinking and you pushed all your fears away. Your mind, clouded by desire, tried to make you regain some control, but as you looked at Alexia as she kept licking your nipples, along with the pleasure you felt while she kept touching you, you could not do other things that gave into the pleasure.

“Alexia” you groaned when she stopped licking your nipple to go for the other” Ah...more,” you said so faintly, so sensual.

Alexia couldn't help but suck with more passion that mound so tasty that adorned the top of your chest. While with her mouth she was in charge of pampering one nipple, with her hand she dedicated herself to pinching the other. 

Your restless hands caressed Alexia's soft and strong body under her shirt. You had to clench your fists so as not to direct your hands to the inside of Alexia's pants, you just had to insert your small hand under the elastic and she would find what you have longed for so long at that moment.

“Aahh” you gasped, arching your body completely and making both of your bodies come into contact. “Alexia” you moaned when you felt her pelvis against your own body.

Alexia's body fell on yours, crushing you slightly, you could feel your wet center pressed against hers. Alexia continued to take care of your breasts and she stirred her hair before going down on your back again. From top to bottom, until she reaches those pants again. Alexia put her fingers a little on your strip and reached for your panties, raised them a little, and caressed your skin before going up again.

The blonde stopped tasting her breasts to look at you. Your face was flushed, and your scarlet cheeks made Alexia feel even more desire for you. She needed to have you, she needed to kiss you. Those half-open lips cried out for millions of kisses.

"You're going to drive me crazy," said Alexia, licking her lips.

“Ale please…” you say softly.

“Tell me to stop now, mi niña, because if you don't do it, I won't…” 

“Ale please don’t stop, I need you, I have been needing you for a while now”

As soon as you said those words Alexia covered your mouth with hers, she absorbed your lips before sliding her tongue and covering your whole mouth with it. You groaned as you responded to that kiss full of desire. Your body moved under Alexia's looking for her warmth.

"You need to stop me now if you don’t want this..." Alexia whispered, as she got rid of her shirt and then took off yours, leaving the both of you naked from the waist up.

You didn’t say anything, you looked at her and simply put your emotions so clearly in your face Alexia didn’t need your words to know what you needed and that you wanted for this to keep going. Alexia's lips covered yours again, before going down your neck and nibbling on your shoulder. Her lips continued to go down, stopping briefly on your breasts, she went down your belly until she reached the fabric of your pants. You moaned when Alexia lowered your pants and panties a little. You looked directly into her eyes as you raised your legs and Alexia took off your clothes.

You gasped when you felt Alexia's warm breath caressing your sex. One of the blonde's long fingers landed on your center.

“You're so wet” She murmured as she made her finger go up to caress your center. “So wet…” she repeated, “and everything for me…” She whispered against you when she reached your clitoris.

You had to bite your lip so as not to scream and have a neighbor complain.

Alexia's tongue went up and down throughout your sex, falling like a whip on your most sensitive button, before making circles around and going down until she reached your entrance and got wetter every second that passed. You moaned when Alexia began to lick your clitoris tirelessly while inserting a couple of fingers inside you. The gasps resonated between the four walls of the living room, the atmosphere was heated and you felt like you were burning. Alexia's mouth tortured you with pleasure and you twisted under it while you noticed the orgasm forming in your body.

“Alexia” you called her name as you raised your hips and pulled her hair, “Alexia..” you whispered as you moved impatiently.

You closed your eyes to the swell of pleasure that ran through your whole body and pulled the blonde's hair while you screamed begging for more. Your body, covered by a layer of sweat, moved nervously, you were begging to reach your release, but Alexia set the pace, withdrawing her playful tongue when she noticed you were about to burst, just to go slowly again and make you more and more desperate.

When you finally reached your orgasm, you shouted Alexia’s name, writhing with pleasure and clinging tightly to the cushions. Alexia continued her administration, lowering you from the cloud you were in and when you recovered, she went up on your body giving small kisses through your skin until she reached your mouth. Alexia kissed you softly, playing with your tongue. She separated herself from you to look at you intensely. your hair was scrambled and your eyes were closed, your cheeks were flushed and your lips half-open breathing heavily. 

Alexia smiled and said, “You are beautiful.”

You smiled slightly and opened your eyes, finding Alexia’s face a few centimeters from yours.

"You're more," you replied as you grabbed the back of her neck and put your lips together again.

#woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso blurbs

[ddejavvu]

Can i request a hot interrogator but w spencer😭😭and he recognizes her symptoms of attraction and theyre both just so awkward and derek or someone else has to come in and save him

i deviated from your plotline just a teensy tiny bit and it's not as focused on how they both can read her but it is mentioned! i hope that's alright <3 also i did tag this with morgan's name because towards the end he's teasing her just as much and i'd fall to my knees for him in an instant so i think that's fair

--

You give yourself away immediately with your reaction to seeing Spencer walk in. You don't know it, but the doctor has been watching your demeanor for five minutes on the other side of the glass, and only when your eyes met his own did you become tense.

Before you'd been almost bored, but not in the overconfident way that criminals often are. You were more restlessly bored, drumming your fingers on the table and peering intently at the graffiti etched into the metal surface.

When he steps inside you straighten to greet him, but words fail you as your throat runs dry. The most handsome man you've ever seen, something straight out of a romance novel steps into the room, and something thuds to the pit of your stomach.

You're not guilty but you feel it, you feel like a criminal under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Hello, Y/N," He offers, smiling measuredly at you, "I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm here to question you on what you might have witnessed earlier."

You'd been in a gas station during an armed robbery. The robber hadn't shot you, but that was only for time's sake, as putting a bullet through your chest would have taken away valuable seconds that he chose instead to use rushing out the back door and away from the sirens out front.

You'd been at the business end of a gun, but still you're more panicked now, hands lowering themselves into your lap when they show signs of trembling.

"Can you remember what the shooter looked like?" He asks.

Brown hair.

"He had brown hair," You speak for the first time since the agent's entry.

No he didn't.

He had blonde hair. The man in front of you has brown hair, tucked behind his ears endearingly.

"Or- uh, blonde. He was blonde."

"Blonde hair," He nods encouragingly, his lips a warm pinkish shade as he sits down across from you, "That's good. Do you remember how tall he was?"

Spencer is tall. He's tall even when seated, like he is now, his stature surely intimidating when compared to your own, and you blink the thought away, trying to recall where on the shelf beside him the man's shoulder had come up to.

"He was a little taller than the shelves," You recall, keeping your eyes on a rather crude word etched into the metal tabletop to keep yourself from ogling Dr. Reid, "Maybe 6'1."

"Alright, good." Spencer praises, and you feel your limbs actually melting, surely mush by now. He hesitates, placing his hands atop the cool desktop, "Y/N, I'd like to do a cognitive interview with you."

You wait for further explanation, but when it comes, you guiltily wish you had been killed earlier. Because if you were dead Doctor Spencer Reid wouldn't take your hands in his own, and tell you to close your eyes in a smooth, low voice.

"I want you to put yourself back there," He prompts, squeezing your hands gently, "But I'm right here. I know you must have been scared in the moment, but I need you to help us with this, and try to remember what his face looked like. Can you do that?"

You can't muster words, but you nod, and evidently Spencer's eyes are open to catch it. He squeezes your hands again, "Alright. You're standing in the gas station. You're getting breakfast before work. You hear shouting, then a gunshot. Where do you look?"

You look at the backs of your eyelids, desperately willing away the mental image of Spencer Reid's face.

"What do you do?"

You pray that he's not a mind-reader, that he can't hear the words 'adorable' and 'terrifying' and 'perfect' all at once.

"Y/N," He prompts, after a moment of your silence, "What do you do?"

"I can't-" Your eyes snap open, and you wrench your hands out of his grasp, "I'm- I'm sorry, I can't do this."

Spencer's hands come out to hover in front of him, a placating gesture but one that doesn't work.

"Okay, that's alright. But please- sit down," He watches warily as you stand, heading for the door like you're exiting a cafe and not a secure government facility, "Y/N, I need to ask you a few more questions-"

"Woah there," The door opens before you can reach it, but the man that shoulders his way through shows no sign of letting you out. He's tall, darker-skinned than Spencer, and broad chested, something you really don't need to think about after the hand-holding fiasco.

"We can't let you leave just yet," The man smiles sympathetically, and his hand comes to rest oh-so-naturally on your bicep as he turns you back towards the table, "I know you're freaking out; anyone would after looking into the barrel of a gun. But you're safe now, okay? And we need your help to keep other people safe. So let's sit down," The man guides you back into your chair, and you think you might have dropped straight to your knees if he'd asked you to. He keeps his large hands firmly, warmly on your shoulders, and as Spencer takes your hands in his again he squeezes them.

"Alright Pretty Boy," The man behind you speaks, and you swear you can hear a glimmer of amusement in his voice despite not being able to see his face, "On with the interview. Don't worry Y/N, we'll do this together."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #derek morgan x reader

[reiderwriter]

hii! could you write smut where spence and reader are bestfriends and one day shes in his car and he snaps and is like “I LOVE YOU” and like they have sex in the car (like with sub spence) and can you include spence getting bj THANKYOUUU

A/N: Car love confessions always remind me of the electric love tiktok "I kissed my best friend" trend that I was OBSESSED with two years ago, and my GOD was this a full-circle moment for me.

Warnings: sub!Spencer, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, oral sex (m recieving), slight cum play, car sex (bj only), like this was slightly self-indulgent and I had to post it right after I finished writing...

The air outside was cold, but the car had been running for an hour now as you listened to Spencer Reid talk about his day. Whether your cheeks were flushed from the heat coming from the fans or from his subtle attentions, you couldn't discern. 

Spencer, your best friend of nine years, who had been around the country saving lives and facing the most horrendous criminals in the world, was currently sat in the passenger seat of your car excitedly mumbling about Star Trek. 

“I can't believe you decided to watch it, and you did it without me,” he smiled at you, his body angled to face you just ever so slightly. 

He'd started by filling you in on the case he'd just returned from, then moved onto books he'd read recently (a conversation you could absolutely contribute to, being a college librarian yourself, and the source of many of his books). 

And then he'd asked you about your day, and you'd spilled about watching a few episodes of classic Star Trek, and all of his joy and knowledge had bubbled up to his lips without even a thought of pushing it down at all. 

“I've been hounding you for several years, and you decide on a whim to watch it today?” He'd meant for the question to come out with an annoyed tone, but he couldn't hold back the smile passing over his lips as you laughed at him. 

“Spencer, it's a TV show. We can watch it again together. In fact, why don't we do just that? Drive to mine, and we can sit through as many episodes of Star Trek as your heart desires.” 

“I wanted to see your initial reactions, though. I wanted to tell you all the behind the scenes knowledge only true trekkies know about.” 

You laughed loudly at this, especially as you saw the pout on his lips as he mumbled the word “trekkies.” 

“Hey, stop laughing,” he said, but his chest was heaving with a chuckle of his own. And for the life of you, you couldn't. He was sitting there pouting because he wanted to see how much you'd enjoy his favorite TV show, and by god, did he look adorable. 

“I'm sorry, Spence, I-” you tried to cover your mouth, but found your hands were both needed to hold your stomach instead as the laughs that wracked your body veered on painful. 

“Y/N, really!” He said, fully grinning now, pout abandoned. But you didn't stop.

Nothing in the air changed or paused at that second, as his head swooped closer to you, but your body instantly reacted to his closeness. 

It was as if all the hairs on your body stood on end as he tipped up your chin and quickly stole away all the oxygen in your body. 

Before your mind could react, your hands were already tangled in his hair, making sure he couldn't pull away. But you felt him smiling into the kiss, and you knew he wouldn't ever want to pull away now that you'd accepted him. 

With empty lungs, you finally had to separate, and to your surprise, a giggle still flittered from your lips. This time, you did clap a hand over your lips, though. 

“You're laughing still? I just kissed you to shut you up, and you're still laughing.” He said, tucking the few strands of hair behind your ear but still refusing to move too far away. 

“You should've seen your face. You were pouting and adorable and-” 

“I love you.” 

Your heart, that had previously been beating remarkably fast after his kiss (and likely from the fit of laughter preceding it), stopped at his words. 

You'd heard people describing butterflies in their stomach before, but this was more intense. It was more like your heart was a pinball that had just been launched back into the machine and was bouncing around in your ribcage hitting objects and trying desperately not to detach from your chest and jump into his arms. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He smiled, and it was sweet and simple, and even if you were not simple people and life had never been particularly sweet to you, you allowed your happiness to soar as you leaned back in and pressed your lips against his. 

Maybe it was the nine years of waiting (though had you been asked, you'd have been totally oblivious to your quite obvious feelings for the man). Maybe it was again the heat in the car. Maybe it was perhaps the two weeks in which you'd not seen him that led you to venture a step further than you usually would. 

But within seconds of tangling your tongue with his in his mouth, sending him reciprocated confessions with each passing breath, you somehow found the energy to pull yourself up and onto his lap. 

“Y/N, we're in a car-” his protests were weak as you suckled your way down his neck. 

“It's dark outside, and I love you.” His hands gripped possessively on your hips as you continued to shower him in affection. 

“What if someone sees us?” He whimpered as you loosened his tie, discarding it so you could pop his buttons open and trail more kisses across his beautiful collarbone. 

“Then I hope they understand enough to walk away and leave us alone to love each other.” 

You'd managed to get all of his buttons undone and sat squirming in his lap as your fingers brushed across his pert nipples. His head was thrown back to allow you access to the part of his neck that, when you'd run your tongue along it, had him gripping your ass and rubbing your core along the now obvious tent in his pants. 

“Y/N, please….” He panted, and you again returned your lips to his face, brushing over his eyes, his nose, his jaw, and his lips. You were blind and discovering your whole new world through your lips, mapping his features inch by inch. 

His whimpers grew louder, more urgent. He was almost becoming whiny, and that pout from earlier shadowed across his face again, so delightful that you'd immediately wanted to kiss it away from him. 

Dry humping in the passenger seat wasn't going to be enough  you decided, and reluctantly drew away from him quickly. 

“Y/N, what-” He weakly gripped the material of your pants, his quiet protests from earlier forgotten as he begged for your touch to return. 

“Trust me, I love you,” you winked at him again, marvelling in his flush, the hand he wiped across his face to hide his quiet joy. 

You shimmied yourself down so your face was hovering just above his cock, straining through his pants. You slowly undid the buttons and let his cock spring up, wrapping a firm hand around it when it was fully released. 

His hand came down to cover yours, even as the other covered his flushed cheeks and eyes in embarrassment. 

“Spencer, let me see your face. I want you to look at me, please, Spencer.” You cooed at him as you quietly removed your hand from under his, instead moving it to his so you could control his movements. 

You let your breaths hit his cock as you controlled his hand, helping him to slowly jerk off as he gave into the pleasures you were so desperate to gift him. 

“Spencer, please, for me. Show me your fucked out face, I want to see it so bad.” 

With each slow stroke, his body seemed to grow heavier with lust until the hand on his face eventually fell, and you could lock eyes with him once again. 

You smiled brightly at him and, without missing a beat, took him into your mouth. 

The angle was awkward, but you only needed to see that shock and just in his eyes briefly, so you manoeuvred your head into a better position and began fresh. 

You held his hand, holding his cock, and sunk your lips down as far as they'd go, before lifting slowly off. You did it again, and heard the hiss from his lips as he enjoyed the pressure. 

You sped up slightly and felt his discarded hand land on your hair. It wasn't domineering or controlling, but more comforting, as he tugged your hair behind your ear, eventually bundling it up into a gentle pony tail to keep it out of the way of your task. 

“Y/N, I love you so much,” he whimpered and moaned, and you squeezed his hand in response, intensifying the pressure on his cock while also responding to his confession. 

You were going to show him just how deeply you loved him by giving him as much pleasure as you could muster. 

“Pull off, Y/N, please, I'm going to-” He bit his lip, biting off the sentence, almost as if he were afraid of speaking the vulgar words into existence. You could feel his muscles going taut underneath your hands, though, knowing exactly how close he was to losing all control and giving into passion. 

And you certainly weren't pulling away. 

Instead, you pushed your head down once again, going further than you'd managed thus far, nose tickled by his pubic hairs as he shot his load down your throat. 

You gagged, of course you gagged, and he let out a guttural moan, sensitivity apparent in each of his twitches and ragged breaths. 

You made sure to keep as much of him inside your mouth and rose off his cock, looking up at him again through eyes half-lidded with lust. You made sure he was watching as you smiled and swallowed a mouthful of his cum, making sure to lick your lips after and watching his throat bob as he processed the entire scenario. 

You again climbed into his lap, but this time, you just pressed your head to his bare chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, and listened to the thrum of his heart. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he said again. You hummed a response and waited for him to say it  again and again. Hopefully, for the rest of your lives. 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

[lightseoul]

cw. gn!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up, slightly suggestive themes, some cursing

a/n. i'm currently watching criminal minds w my sister. it's addicting lmao

“Why do you even watch this shit?”

You don’t spare the blonde a glance, keeping your eyes trained on the TV screen in front of you.

“Hey.”

Something pokes at your side, which you can only assume to be his finger.

You frown. “Quit it, Kats. I’m trying to focus here.”

“Wha—”

Bakugou splutters unintelligibly in response, before heaving a heavy sigh from where he’s seated beside you.

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s sporting that infamous scowl.

“What’s the point of inviting me over if you’re just gonna watch a fucked up crime show?”

At that, you promptly hit pause on the remote and spin to face him.

“What’s with you and Criminal Minds?”

“‘Criminal Minds’?” he sneers, “Man, even the title is lame.”

You don’t even feign offense.

You know where he’s getting at.

Getting there is the fun part.

“Really, babe,” you make it a point to set aside the remote and fully turn your torso to look at him straight. His scowl eases a little.

“What’s with you and Criminal Minds?” you repeat.

“Nothin’,” he waves off vaguely, breaking eye contact. “Just sayin’ you could be doing other better things.”

“Like what?”

A short pause.

“I dunno,” he says, frowning, after a few seconds. “Just—not staring at a TV.”

You smile despite yourself. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

His eyebrow twitches at the sight of your shit-eating grin. “Hah?”

“You know,” you scooch closer to him and let your hand fall on his knee, gently rubbing it, “You can just ask.”

He eyes you for a moment as he stirs uncomfortably in his seat, trying not to catch much attention at the fact that he’s adjusting his shorts.

Your vision follows his hand, and you can’t help but chuckle at the gesture.

“Shut up.”

At that, you guffaw, “What? I didn’t say anything.”

He shoves you lightly, “You were laughing at me, dumbass.”

You gleam at him. “Because you got semi-hard just with a rub?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He shoves you again, slightly harder now. When you look back at him, a faint pinkish hue now decorates his cheeks.

“I’m just kidding!” you cry when you catch sight of his devious glare.

“You better shut your trap.”

“I will,” you reassure him as you face the screen again, much to his dismay. “Because I’m going to finish this episode.”

“Oh, fucking hell.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n

[letstevengrantsleep]

Speak Your Truth

Spencer Reid x f!feader

Summary: Spencer has just got out of prison, and you see him for the first time in months

Word count: 699

Warnings: fluff, implication of sexual activity if you squint

a/n: I've been watching a ridiculous amount of criminal minds recently and holy mother of god this man has had me in a choke hold

masterlist

"He's out?" You almost sob, stumbling back into your chair beside Garcia.

"This morning. He's on his way home right now, should be at his apartment soon." Penelope held out her hands for you to take,

"Oh my god... Garcia I - I don't know what to do, I-"

"Honey, if you don't get in your car right now and go see him, I'll never forgive you."

-

"Spence!" You scream, running like your life depends on it down drab corridors, hoping to catch up with Spencer and the arresting officers before they take him away.

There's nothing you can do as you reach him but try your best to take in every detail of his face, his figure, everything about him as if it's the last time you'll ever see him again.

"Spencer... I don't know what to do, what can I do?"

"You're okay, I'm okay. Make sure my mum's safe, yeah? Can you do that for me?"

Nodding, tears forming in the corers of your eyes, "yeah Spence I can do that."

There's something left unsaid between the two of you, and the officers either side of Reid are beginning to get impatient. As they begin to pull him away from you, the fear of losing him hits you like a tidal wave.

"Spence, I-"

He shakes his head knowingly, "tell me when I get out, okay?"

-

There's two things stopping you from breaking down in tears as you reach Spencer's apartment door: the loving face of his elderly neighbour passing you in the hall, and the knowledge that everything can begin to get back to normality once you see his face again.

After knocking on his door you stand shifting your weight on your feet, anxious to see the state that Spence has been left in whilst in prison. It's only a few more seconds before he opens it, immediately securing your gaze as he lets out a content sigh, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"I missed you." Is all he says as he steps back into his apartment, pulling you with him as his grip on you doesn't give.

"Oh Spence, you have no idea. We fought so hard for you, I-" you pull away to look him in the eye, hands gripping at the lapel of his jacket. No words follow, just silence as you stare at each other, the unsaid hanging heavy in the air.

"I know, I know..." his hands reach up to your face, tucking stray hair behind your ears, "me too."

Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of having him back, as though nothing had ever taken him away in the first place.

Your eyes shoot back open in surprise as you feel his lips on your forehead, "Spencer..."

"I'm sorry, I just-"

You cut him off by pulling him down and crashing your lips into his, trying hard to pour every ounce of emotion you feel towards him into this one kiss, hoping it'll be enough for him to understand.

Spencer responds by wrapping his arms tight around your figure, whimpering into the kiss as it deepens.

Nothing could have prepared you for how reactive Spencer is, how he sighs at your touch and tries to pull you impossibly closer into him when you run your hands over his chest. The way he runs his hand up to gently tug at the hair at the base of your head...

It's over all too quick as he pulls away, mouth open, eyes searching your face.

"While I was in prison, I had a lot of time to think... about the things I wish I'd done, the things I could be doing..." he trails off, looking you up and down. "I can't keep pretending that we're not made for each other, baby, I can't keep pretending that I don't want you. In every way I can, any way you'll let me."

"Have me." You say, throwing caution to the wind and acting on every instinct you've got. "I'm yours, Spence."

"Oh baby," he whispers, dragging a thumb over your lips as he leans in, "I'll be so good, I promise, so good for you."

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic

[miley1442111]

Hi love :) I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing a little something for Derek Morgan? Where reader and Derek have a similar dynamic to Chandler and Monica from friends, maybe something similar to that one scene where Monica gets called high-maintenance and can't stop thinking about it and Chandler comforts her by saying that whilst you may be a little above the average maintence level (or something around those lines, it's been like 2 years since I last watched friends 😅), he's just like, "it's okay, because I like... maintaining you?".

Btw I'm obsessed with your fics I just finished reading all your Aaron fics in one go. Thank you so much my love! <333

omg i love this ideaaaa so much (Truth be told I've never watched friends once so i did in fact have to look this scene up on youtube)

i hope you enjoy!!

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you're not high maintenance, right?

pairing: derek morgan x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, mild insecurities

High-maintenance. You weren’t high maintenance, right? 

It had been a throw-away comment from earlier in the week, something funny David had said. Though it stuck with you, making you question if you were high-maintenance or not. 

Was it high maintenance to ask your boyfriend to drive you to the gym? To ask him to get you a coffee? To ask his opinion on things? To ask him to help you with something?

You were going over it constantly in your head, so much so, that you’d decided to change. 

Him getting you coffee turned into you getting him coffee. Him helping you on cases turned into you practically ignoring him unless you were alone, or at home. Him giving his opinion on anything you’d usually ask him to give his opinion on, turned into never asking his opinion. Him driving you to the gym turned into you walking there and back alone. Maybe that one was a mistake… 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in the passenger seat of his car, the rain had ruined your hair, your active clothes sticking to your body, and his voice droning on in a lecture of why it wasn’t safe to walk home at 11pm alone. 

“I mean I seriously don’t understand baby, why can’t you just let me pick you up?-” he was worried. The kind of worry that made someone pissed off. 

“Why can’t I just let you pick me up, Derek?” You mocked. “I fucking wonder why.” 

“You wanna’ tell me something baby?” He cocked his head to the side, glancing at you quickly. 

“No,” you mumbled. 

“What is wrong with you this week? We’re barely spending any time together, you won’t let me drive you anywhere, you’re acting like I’m not there at work-”

“I’m trying Derek, alright. Give me a fucking break,” you huffed.

“What are you ‘trying’ to do?” He asked, genuine confusion coating his words. 

You just sighed and left the car as he parked it outside your shared apartment. You stood in the elevator, his jacket around your shoulders, feeling silly. Why had you let him pick you up? Oh yeah, three guys were following you. Probably the safer choice, though it didn’t make you feel any less childish. 

You’re so high maintenance, a voice in your head nagged and you slipped his jacket off and handed it to him. 

“Baby, can you just talk to me?” he asked, pulling the emergency stop button and turning to you. 

“About what?” You started the elevator again, wanting to ignore whatever issue he thought you two had. 

“Baby, if I did something-”

“You did nothing,” you reassured him with a sad chuckle.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asked, taking your hand in his. “Please talk to me.”

You looked down at his hand, a sad smile on your face. “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me anyway,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Do you think I’m high maintenance?” You asked, scared of his answer. 

He smiled down at you and sighed. “You’re a little high maintenance.”

“Oh…” you sighed. So Dave was right. Everything he’d said was right. Derek probably finds you so annoying. He probably hates you.

“But I like getting to do the maintenance. I like taking care of you,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad you let me take care of you.”

“What?” You stared at him and he pressed a kiss to your lips. 

“I like maintaining you,” he repeated and a smile spread across your face. 

Who listens to Rossi anyway?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :) - requests are open! :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan fanfiction #david rossi #jason gideon #elle greenaway #aaron hotchner

[ficnation]

Chapter 4: Bon Appétit

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)

This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.

“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.

“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain. 

“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.

It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.

“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”

Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”

You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.

“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.

For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.

Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.

“I have to keep seeing him.”

You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.

You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.

You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair. 

Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.

He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.

“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.

“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.” 

Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.

“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”

You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.

You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.

“Change your fucking tone, Will.”

You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.

“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.

Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.

“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.

Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.

“I’m proposing.”

The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.

“What the fuck, Will?”

Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.

“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”

You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?

“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”

“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”

He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”

Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.

“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?” 

“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”

A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.

“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid. 

Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.

You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.

“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple. 

A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.

“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.

“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”

And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love. 

Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit. 

“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”

The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.

“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.

Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.

Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.

“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.

You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.

Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.

The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed. 

You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.

“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.

Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room. 

You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely. 

There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them. 

You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.

“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within. 

The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer. 

“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.

It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls. 

Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.

It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.

Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.

You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.

Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.

You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.

“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.

“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”

You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.

“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.

Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.

“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder. 

You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.

Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.

“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes. 

“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”

Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.

“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”

“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.

Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist. 

“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.” 

Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in.  “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.

After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.

“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.

Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair. 

“I know.”

His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.

You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”

Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.

“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”

“Why does she want you to stay away?”

“Because I tried to kill him.”

You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.

“How?”

Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”

You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”

A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”

Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.

“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.

“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.

The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.

“Would you have done this if I…” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.

You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.

“If you…”

“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.

“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”

Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before.  His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.

“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.” 

Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.

“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”

Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting. 

When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.

“I love you, Will.”

#eat your heart out #smut #mdni #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal lecter x will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannigram #will graham x reader #will graham x hannibal lecter #will graham

[willowser]

now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to. 

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress. 

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought. 

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek. 

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon. 

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his  heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

#i was so nervous about getting the quirk right kahfkahf #and then i was so nervous about it being fluffy enough bc the first draft of this was too angsty ?? #SO I REWROTE IT LOL #i hope this is okay !! 🥺 #i love the idea of bakugou being able to express how he feels in emotion only #that the fear he doesn't know how to name or how to explain or understand is conveyed to you somehow #whenever he touches you #🥺 #tysm for giving me the chance to write it !!! #literally no but seriously you're the only reason i haven't privated this blog again LMAOOO tysm 🥺 #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

[save-the-villainous-cat]

mother alina, i subject myself to horny jail…may we get more spicy bondage smut? preferably where the hero is the one being bound…….

"I feel like you're getting too comfortable around me." The villain shook their head, disappointed even.

"A trap, how original."

"You're starting to lose your edge." The villain eyed their nemesis bound by rope. Months ago, the villain had come up with it, had almost triggered it themselves. Weeks of research and testing had gotten into it. Thank god, their hero was the one to end up in it. “I may have to get a new nemesis. Someone smarter."

The villain's eyes went over the hero's red face and they could tell they were pushing the right buttons. Ultimately, they took another step forward, only a few inches away from their all-time favourite. They grabbed the hero's biceps and squeezed, teasing them.

"Someone a little stronger."

"Oh please." The hero frowned. "Where are you gonna find someone like that? Start searching on Mars."

"Someone with better comebacks..." The villain let go of them and pretended to be deep in thought. Meanwhile, the hero struggled, trying to get themselves out of the mess they had gotten into. "But I'd still like to keep you as a pet, if that's alright with you."

With too much amusement, the villain watched as the hero's ears turned red as well. Their grunts were a little too distracting for the villain's taste but, really, they didn't mind. God, the hero had some nerves. Not fighting them for four days straight - that was a record. The villain wanted to pretend like they didn't care but it became increasingly difficult to hide their feelings.

"You know-" another step "-my love-" they grabbed the hero's jaw and pulled them close "-if you apologise nicely for ignoring our dates, I might let you go."

"Dates?" The hero started giggling as they stared into the villain's eyes. Suddenly, they had turned into a nervous wreck, instead of the dangerous individual that could put ten criminals behind bars within a week.

The hero was a force to be reckoned with and the villain was surprised that they hadn't seen a prison cell from the inside yet. They liked to think that the hero preferred their encounters over justice.

"Where were you?"

"Oh, you're serious about this?" The villain tilted their head and let go of the hero's jaw. They rolled with their eyes. Was it that much of an utopian thought? That the villain had actually missed their nemesis? That they wanted to know about their days? That they prayed no one had touched their nemesis?

"Yes. And if you don't want me to throw you like this into the river, you better have answers." The villain was done with the games and they needed to know what had happened to the hero.

Their nemesis smiled lazily, as if they enjoyed this.

"Well, if you want answers, you should give me a ki-" The villain grabbed their jaw again and kissed the hero hard. Honestly, they hadn't expected their first kiss to be like this.

Once or twice they had thought about it. They had expected it to be after a rough battle as an apology. Or when the villain saved the hero. Or maybe after a really bad argument. Well, maybe they had thought about it more than twice.

It was all so different from what they had expected. The hero was gentler, they tasted sweeter than the villain had imagined and the villain themselves was...scarily nervous. If the hero had found someone else...

The villain pulled away, eyes wide.

"If you meant a kick instead of kiss, I can arrange that too-" the villain said quickly, trying to sound indifferent, but the hero seemed to be dreaming, with a big smile on their face.

"Again," the hero whispered. "I'm not ready to tell you."

And the villain kissed them repeatedly until the hero gasped "I had a few days off."

#writing snippet #heroes and villains #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #hero x villain #hero #villain #request #an answer for an ask #heroxvillain

[hauntedestheart]

Transcript: "You Know The Face" Episode 47 - Blaise Gigson

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and resemblance to any real life persons is completely intentional, lol, but to spare the virgin eyes of the search algorithm I changed the name.

[Theme tune plays]

Arsenio: Hey there listeners, welcome back to "You Know The Face," the best podcast out there devoted to discussing the great changes that The Great Shift brought about.

Arsenio: As always, I'm your host Arsenio Braxton, still here and still me, and for this episode I'm by a very special guest- you might know the face, Blaise Gigson is here in the studio! Hi Blaise, welcome to the pod.

Blaise: Hey Arsenio! Thanks having me, I'm a huge fan of the show. This podcast is like, the soundtrack to my morning runs.

Arsenio: Oh my god, dude, I'm blushing! You've been one of our most requested guests for a while now so it's such a pleasure to finally have you here in the studio with us. And I want to let the listeners at home know, this guy is even bigger in person.

Blaise: Okay, now you're making me blush. I'll admit it, I always do fifty pushups before getting on camera just to make sure I look my best- does that make me sound weird?

Arsenio: I mean, it's healthier than my pre-show ritual, which is just a Red Bull and a shot of vodka. Now I'm gonna be calling you Blaise, but that wasn't the name you were born with, right?

Blaise: Yup, just like most people I was shifted into this body.

Arsenio: BUT, unlike most people, after the shift you decided to adopt the name of the original owner of that body. What inspired you to make that choice?

Blaise: Well I flipped a coin and- nah, I'm just joking. How do I explain this... the shift changed everything, you know? Not just our bodies, but the whole world. I don't really think that any of us are who we used to be, even the people who didn't shift, so taking on a new name just felt natural. Plus I think I'm kind of a special case since I swapped into a celebrity- I get recognized all the time, every day people come up to me on the street and call me "Blaise," so I figured I might as well just embrace that.

Arsenio: Oh that's true, I never thought of it like that. See, that's what I love about doing this show- getting all of these different perspectives. A lot of the people I talk to on this pod mention that they try stay connected to who they were before the shift, but it sounds like you're just full steam ahead. You very famously don't like to talk about who you were before at all, is that right?

Blaise: Nah, not really. A lot of people think that means I was a criminal or something and I'd like to say for the record that I was not, but I don't like to sweat the small things like who I used to be. I'm just focused on who I am today! And I think I make a pretty good Blaise Gigson, don't you?

Arsenio: Absolutely, man, you're crushing it. But I gotta ask, has the real Blaise Gigson tried to get in contact with you?"

Blaise: Try, like, eight Blaise Gigsons. That's the thing about swapping with a celebrity- there's a lot of creeps out there who were obsessed with you that think about this as their chance to get in on the action. Since it was impossible to figure out who was telling the truth, I had to just block all of them. For safety reasons.

Arsenio: Oh, so you don't talk to any of them? But aren't you worried you might be shutting out the real Blaise?

Blaise: Well, wherever he is he can rest easy knowing that I'm taking good care of his body. If you're out there watching Blaise, this one's for you!

Arsenio: Oh, and there it is! The famous bicep. Would you mind doing it again, just for me?

Blaise: Mind? I'd love to, these things are awesome.

Arsenio: No arguments here... actually, let's pivot and talk about that for a second. Now, we all knew that Blaise Gigson was a hottie with a body, but you've sexed up his image a lot since assuming the reigns. I'm sure most of our listeners have probably seen a certain viral video-

Blaise: The workout stream, yeah.

Arsenio: Dude. you broke the internet with that one! Seeing you all hot and sweaty, flexing all those muscles on the floor... pretty iconic if you ask me. Can one of the producers insert the clip here?

Arsenio: Damn daddy! Sorry, I shouldn't be thirsting over you while you're right here in front of me, they're gonna have to edit this part out or else before get cancelled haha.

Blaise: Nah, don't sweat it man. Trust me, no one gets it more than I do- you think looking at this body is great? Try living in it. Like, I'll admit it, I get turned on watching those clips too. I look fucking hot there.

Arsenio: So I think it's safe to say the "himboification" of the Blaise Gigson brand was a conscious decision on your part?

Blaise: Honestly? A little bit yes, a little bit no. I mean, it wasn't something I planned on when I first got this body, it just kind of happened. Like one day I just woke up and I was a famous hunk... of course I was gonna get a little wild, right? I couldn't resist showing off a bit. At first I was worried that I was going a bit overboard but people have really been responding to it.

Arsenio: Yeah I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who "responded" to that video, if you catch my drift.

Blaise: I hope so! I mean, think about it. When I was just a nobody sitting at home I would have killed to see my celebrity crushes take their clothes off and just, I don't know, start slutting it up. And so now that I am one of those guys I used to dream about, I wanna make that fantasy a reality for everybody else.

Blaise: Like, come on, don't the people deserve to see all of this?

Arsenio: I completely agree. Actually, could we see a little bit more, for the camera? Or even just for me?

Blaise: Haha, maybe later.

Arsenio: Alright, I'm gonna hold you to that. But we should probably get moving or else this episode is gonna wind up being four hours, haha. As the listeners know, I started this podcast because I was one of the few people not affected by The Great Shift, so I'm always fascinated by the stories of people who were. Let's get yours Blaise- can you walk us through your shift experience? What was it like for you that first morning?

Blaise: The thing I'll always remember about waking up was the weight. Being in a body like this one that's built like a tank, that's a lot of muscle, and muscle is one of the heaviest things in the body. I knew something was different before I even opened my eyes because I could feel how much space I was occupying. And that kinda freaked me out!

Blaise: But all of that weight is actually strength, and the second I started moving I knew that whatever had happened to me was a good thing.

Blaise: I'll never forget this- the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes and looked down was this giant chest blocking my view. I was so confused I tried like, wipe them off because I thought they were something stuck to me, but nope! I just had massive pecs all of the sudden. And then I got distracted just, like, squeezing them.

Arsenio: That's so funny- I hear that exact same story all the time, but from shifted women. I think you're the first guy to have the classic "boob grab" experience, haha!

Blaise: Hey, it's a classic for a reason! I say when you've got tits like these, you give 'em a squeeze. But I realized pretty quickly that there was a whole body underneath my chest, and that... woof. I was actually confused at first because I'd never touched a six-pack before so I was like "what the fuck is going on with my stomach" when I first felt it- I wasn't used to my body being so hard.

Blaise: The new core strength was incredible too- like, just sitting up felt better than it ever had before. And when I sat up and the blankets slid off of me and I saw my new body for the first time, I was shocked. I'd never seen someone with that many muscles in my life, and suddenly I had the best seat in the house. And by "best seat," I mean I had a dump truck ass.

Arsenio: Sounds like you were in bed for a minute then.

Blaise: A minute? Try two hours. I was alone with the body of my dreams and I could do anything with it, so I- well, you can probably guess what I did next.

Arsenio: I bet I can and I would love to hear about it, maybe even see a demonstration, but I think we should move on before we get demonetized. When you finally got out of bed, did you recognize yourself when you looked in the mirror?

Blaise: Recognize myself? Dude, I basically creamed myself. Blaise was one of my biggest celebrity crushes and seeing that face staring back at me from the mirror... just, words can't even describe it. Having all of this body and the face to match? The beard? This jawline? These lips? I'm handsome as fuck.

Arsenio: Dude, I'm so jealous right now you have no idea. So you weren't scared that you'd woken up in a completely new body?

Blaise: I mean, I was confused, but I thought it was just me, you know? I thought it was some kind of Freaky Friday situation and I'd just been zapped into this body so like, he could learn a lesson about the meaning of Christmas or something. I didn't learn about the shift until later.

Arsenio: And then did you freak?

Blaise: Nah. I feel selfish when I say that because I know how scared so many people are, and I feel for them I really do, but I was excited. I wasn't really thinking about anybody else, I was just excited to be Blaise.

Arsenio: And so we're heading on over a year since the shift- how are you settling in to your new body? It's quite an impressive physique and you've maintained it well.

Blaise: Thanks- keeping up with the gym routine was definitely one of my top priorities. Letting a body like this go to waste would have been a tragedy.

Blaise: But to answer your question, I'm still not entirely used to this body yet, and honestly, I hope I never am. It's fun always feeling surprised, you know? I'll just be going about my day and then I'll catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and remember that holy shit, I'm a fucking stud, and I get excited all over again. It hits me at the strangest times.

Blaise: Muscles are cool because they're like... they're always there, you know? I get a little show every time I look down. And the thing about it is- I'm not bragging, this is just a fact -I'm so ripped now that a bit of bulging is inescapable. People are always saying that I'm a tease but half the time I don't even realize that I'm doing it, it's just a side effect of existing while being this hot.

Arsenio: Damn, and here I thought you were doing this especially for me. Well, it's nice to see that fame hasn't gone to your head!

Blaise: Haha, I mean, when the head looks this good, I can afford it!

Arsenio: I can't argue with that, that is one big beautiful head you've got there. Blaise really is just a stunning man.

Blaise: Aren't I? It's great. I was kinda nervous when I started being active on Blaise's accounts because at first I felt like I was impostor or something like that, but I knew I had to keep posting because people deserved to see this face. I get a lot of hate comments from people saying "you shouldn't be doing this" and stuff like that, but I block them out and focus on the positive ones. There's a lot more of those anyways.

Blaise: It sounds shallow but like, as a hot guy, I hold a lot of power. I've been on the other side of the screen, looking through it at those gorgeous faces, so I'm very aware what an important escape a bit of thirst content can be. Now that I have this face, this body, I can make so many people happy just by taking some clothes off and posting a picture. Why wouldn't I want to do that?

Blaise: That's why the content shifted. Less comedy videos, more thirst, workout videos, photoshoots- the stuff people really wanted to see all along. I love sharing the gift of this body with the world.

Blaise: I don't take anything for granted anymore, I live my life to the fullest, and I want to invite all of my followers into that. Especially after everything the world has been through since the shift, I want people to be able to open up their phone, see this sexy smile, and know that it's possible to still be happy. That there's still beauty in the world.

Arsenio: Oh my god, Blaise, I didn't expect us to be getting so deep on this episode.

Blaise: Hey, I'm more than just a pretty face... I've got a great ass too.

Arsenio: That you do, Blaise, that you do. So, Blaise, let's lighten the mood a bit and jump to one of our listener's favorite sections- and if you've listened to the show before you know what I'm going to ask you next. What's your favorite part of being in your new body?

Blaise: My favorite part? I'll give you two guesses.

Blaise: I love being a walking, talking gun show. Like I look down and I just think wow, I get to own these arms.

Arsenio: Yeah those are some killer pipes man.

Blaise: Dude you have no idea, I'm so fucking strong now. I'm still not over how like... round they are? It's like someone shoved a football under my skin, they tear my shirts if I'm not careful. I'm never gonna get tired of watching them flex.

Blaise: Every part of this body is great actually but I wanna give a special shoutout to my thighs actually- I'm thicker than a bowl of oatmeal. I just love having some meat on these bones, you know? I never skip a leg day.

Arsenio: Oh trust me, I can tell. And Blaise, you know I gotta ask because it's the question everyone's dying to know the answer to... how big is it?

Blaise: I'm gonna have to plead the fifth on that one actually- I'm currently in talks with a few different studios that have some ideas about how we can unveil that particular part of my new brand. But... let's just say that Blaise was a big boy, and he didn't disappoint. It's hard for me to make it through the day without fondling myself all the time, pun very much intended.

Blaise: This is so embarrassing but I actually had trouble pissing when I first got this body because every time I whipped my dick out to piss I'd get a boner from the sight of it- it's a grower, I'll tell you that much.

Arsenio: Damn, well, there you have it listeners! An exclusive!

Blaise: Oh god, I can just hear my publicist in my head screaming at me right now. Can you edit that out?

Arsenio: No, no, we are definitely leaving that in! This is the kind of content the people want to hear.

Blaise: Haha, well, I'm always happy to give the people what they want. But yeah, if you're really curious about what little Blaise looks like, keep an eye on my socials. Big things on the horizon... very big.

Arsenio: We'll be sure to put links to your accounts in the episode description. Moving on, I feel like I know the answer but here's one that we ask everybody: if you could switch back to your old body, would you?

Blaise: ...Sorry, what? I got distracted for a second.

Arsenio: Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyways, Blaise, you know what's more exciting than waking up to find yourself in the body of a famous hunk? Today's sponsor, Squarespace...

#male body swap #the great shift #this is dumb and kind of meta but I managed to finish it #so that's an accomplishment at least #I think thegreatstoryteller did a story with a similar concept a long time ago so shoutout to him

[codenamesazanka]

Need Spinner to rip Deku a new one

[Warning for some suicidal ideation]

•

At first, Izuku thought Iguchi Shuuichi didn’t hear him. Iguchi did not move. He was still looking away from Izuku. He said nothing, staying quiet for so long that Izuku thought maybe he should leave, and give Iguchi time to process and accept the news. Whatever was going through Iguchi’s head right now.

"...I killed a total of eight people..."

It was so soft and low it took Izuku a second to realize it was speech, that it was even a sound.

“Pardon?” Izuku asked.

“I killed eight people.”

Izuku stared at Iguchi in front of him. It sent a jolt through him, to remember that this man was a criminal, a murderer. He was dull all over and looked like he could barely sit up by his own strength, but Iguchi Shuuichi was a Villain, and he was speaking about the deaths of eight people with zero emotion. "W-What? Are you—this is a confession—"

If Iguchi was confessing, Izuku should go get Detective Tsukauchi, or—

"I plotted with the Front to destroy cities.” Iguchi said. Still toneless. Still looking away. “I watched Gigantomachia crush everything in his path. I led a riot against a hospital. I trampled over a dozen doctors and nurses—"

Izuku blinked. "You didn't actually do that. No one actually got hurt, luckily—"

"I did.” Iguchi said. “I'm a Villain, and I killed countless people.” It was then that he finally turned to Izuku. A blank, unseeing stare that shot right through Izuku. Iguchi’s eyes were pink, but the look in them was so empty that it was like the color had leached out, replaced with a glassy hollow-pink gray.

Izuku flinched, but took a deep breath. “...You did. So it’s good you’re confessing. And now… you can… repent—”

“So kill me."

"What?"

"Kill me,” Iguchi repeated.

Izuku grimaced. “I’m not going to do that.”

“Kill me.”

“No,” Izuku said firmly, and stood up. “I’m going to go get Detective—”

He saw the moment when Iguchi’s eyes bursted with a manic light, as if everything came back, and with it, finally, all the emotions that Izuku had expected when he first came to tell Iguchi his leader’s last words. Iguchi exploded.

“Just kill me!” Iguchi roared, struggling against his restraints, so hard it shook the hospital bed. “I'll–I’ll kill you, if you don't stop me right now! Kill me!"

Izuku’s fist clenched automatically at the threat, the muscle memory of when he had One For All. But One For All was gone, and Iguchi was bound up tight. "I'm not going to do that! I don't kill—"

"You killed him!”

The scream made Izuku reel back.

“You killed Shigaraki!” Iguchi suddenly jerked away again, eyes squeezing shut. He curled in on himself, though he was still yelling. “You killed him, so kill me too!”

“I didn’t—!” Shiga–Shimura Tenko’s body crumbled to dust due to the damage it had taken. Everyone agreed that regeneration had failed at some point, and Shimura was already falling apart. The collapse was inevitable.

“You killed him!” Iguchi sounded hoarse now, as if the yell just before had damaged his throat. “He died. He died in front of you and you let him die. So—” The voice broke completely. “So why can’t you let me die too? Let me die with him."

Ragged breathing filled the room. Izuku let it go on for a count of ten, allowing Iguchi to calm down, allowing himself to find the words. “...That’s not how it works. Shimura Tenko died, but you’re still—”

“Shut. Up.” Iguchi curled in on himself further. “Just kill me and let me die. I don’t care. Just let me… Just let me go see him.”

“You can’t follow him,” Izuku said. In the back of his mind, he faintly thought that Shigaraki would’ve been pleased to see that his League was still loyal to him. “Iguchi Shuuichi, your leader is dead, but you can’t follow him. You have to—”

Iguchi made a sharp, jagged sound, the imitation of a laugh. “I have to. Are you really just some kid, that you don’t get it? I love him.”

Izuku froze.

“...I loved him,” Iguchi said. He breathed out the words. “Shigaraki Tomura. My heart was empty until I met him. He was— I wanted—” Iguchi trailed off. “...I loved him."

The horizon that Spinner was looking forward to, Shigaraki Tomura had said, grinning. It had felt so random, him mentioning one of the League in the middle of battle, as he was destroying Mt. Fuji. If Spinner is alive, tell him—

Were you… acknowledging his feelings? Izuku wondered, tentatively, to those memories of Shigaraki. Did you know? Your last words… did you do that, just for him?

Iguchi was weeping now, tears leaking out of his still shut eyes, trailing down his face and falling onto the hospital sheets. One wet dot, two dots, three, merging into a misshapen, growing stain.

Iguchi was unforgivable. Shigaraki was unforgivable. They had done unforgivable things. But still Izuku had said to Shigaraki, I saw you crying, and he knew he needed to help. How could he not? Someone was in pain, and saving them was obvious.

But now your friend is crying. The immediate, most obvious way to help Iguchi right now, Izuku couldn’t help but think was… if you were here…

And there was a déjà vu too—Gentle and La Brava…

Izuku’s stomach twisted when he realized there was nothing he did for La Brava, when she was crying, knocking her small fists into him. It was Gentle who shoved him off and held her. Gentle was the one to dry her tears.

No one else could’ve done it.

"There's no point in me living,” Iguchi whispered. “My family has disowned me by now. The League is gone. Shi... Shigaraki is gone. There's nothing left. So just let me die."

“I… don’t think he… would’ve wanted you to die,” Izuku carefully offered. “If you were fri— more than friends, he would’ve wanted you to live. Right?”

Iguchi made that sharp barking laugh again. “I'm going to jail for the rest of my life. And there is no life I want, not without—” Iguchi broke off.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Izuku tried to say. “You have to live, and things will change—”

“The future has no place for me in it,” Iguchi said. Tears dripped off the tip of his mouth. “I never had one, anyway. After all this, I’m…”

A sob. “If we didn't let him go into surgery… I wanted him to stay, but he was so excited… And I knew he wasn’t himself anymore, I knew All For One was lying to me, I knew all that! But I didn’t do anything. I didn’t know what to do. I did nothing, and now he’s gone. I should’ve… I don’t know, I don’t know, but I should’ve done something.”

Izuku bit his lips. This was, at least, something they had in common. “...It was the same for me too. I saw All For One and him being… stuck together. I couldn’t ignore that, so I wanted to help him too. I wanted to save that cry—save him, but…” He sat back down. “Maybe… if we had worked together… If you came to us earlier…”

“...save him?” Iguchi rasped.

Izuku nodded. “I really did. I wanted to save him.”

Iguchi slowly raised his head. “You killed him. You fought him to death. Heroes wanted him dead. Hawks killed Twice and everyone just accepted it. You… You never said anything. What do you mean, ‘if you came to us earlier…’

That hollow look in Iguchi’s eyes was back.

“You never said a single word about saving him.”

#Spinaraki #Spinner #Iguchi Shuuichi #Tried to be nice to Deku here #Get his side of things. Have him think about the guy he just killed #It only made him an even worst dumbass little shit. #Spinner feels a little OOC but he also just lost the love of his life #nalslastworkingbraincell #nalwrites #fanfic #really a vent fic #sorry!!! #fanfiction

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi:

Lock Me Up | Intro/Part 1

In which his job is pretty clear on paper; find the witness, bring her in, write down what she saw and then let the witness protection program handle the rest. The only problem: You've got other plans.

Tags/Warnings: Detective Agust D my friends, Criminal Kitty!Reader, hybrid Yoongi, mentions of murder, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of past abuse, strangers to enemies to I don't even know, sexual tension

Length: Long, 4k words

Next ->

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"So, just her then?" He asks, reading the files about his most recent case. "Double homicide, and she got away?" He wonders, as the young officer shrugs at the table.

"According to another witness, she saw her run out of the house we found the victims in, and she apparently got chased down the street- but a butcher downtown told a patrolling officer that she was fine the day after." He explains, making Yoongi sigh.

"Well, finding a cat in D-Town." The man takes the files for himself, grabbing his coat. "How hard can it be?"

Turns out, it's not that hard at all, considering the high percentage of hybrid population in D-Town.

He's walking into the small restaurant, most of the people eating and working being hybrids, immediately looking at him with suspicion as all conversation quiets down. He's used to it by now, most hybrids aware of what he is, his reputation amongst each and every one of them one of a traitor. "I'm searching for a female hybrid. Feline." Yoongi asks one of the servers behind the counter, cooks turning around to watch the detective. "Has a ID number tattooed into her left ear. 0713." He offers an image depicting you caught by the security camera of a small grocery shop nearby.

But much to his expectation, everyone shrugs, shakes their heads, won't tell him anything. It's a typical pack-mentality amongst hybrids- no matter what, they stick together against the human dominated police force.

"Alright, let's ask for your papers then. Mind me having a look at all the legal documents for your little establishment?" He melodically threatens, and it's clear that it makes the young server and her husband close by nervous, her eyes immediately looking at two young twin hybrids watching a cartoon on an old CRT-TV. "She's.. upstairs. She didn't do anything, she's a good girl-!" The woman begs, yells after the detective as he immediately makes his way up the stairs, only her husband holding her back.

The moment Yoongi opens the door to what he assumes might be a bedroom though, you're clearly there-

Jumping straight out of a window.

"Fuck.!" He calls out, running back downstairs to run after you, whole restaurant laughing and cheering for you as you dash away from the detective, heels clicking on the pavement as you run away. He has to admit that he's a little impressed by your ability to jump over obstacles and run so fast with those mary janes, though it's clear after a while that he's got the better stamina of the both of you. He's catching up to you.

But you're clearly already very knowledgeable in police chases, because you suddenly jump up against a wall of a small building, managing to somehow heave your entire body up the ledge to get onto the roof.

"So what now, huh?!" He calls out to you, breathing heavily just like you are. "One call and I've got the fucking thing surrounded. Just get down, I'm here- fuck.." He breathes for a second, before catching his composure again. "-I'm not here to arrest you."

"Hmm.. nah, I'm good." You simply answer, sitting close to the edge of the roof now.

"That wasn't a question." He calls out back up to you, one brow raised in annoyance. "Get down."

"No." You simply answer stubbornly, your tail swaying from left to right behind you, since you've moved to lay on your stomach instead, arms on the edge of the rooftop, chin resting on top of them.

"Alright. Hybrid 0713, you're under temporary arrest for suspicion of involvement in a double homicide case." He orders out to you. "Now get down here-"

"Does that ever work on anybody?" You ask after a moment of silence with an almost bored tone to your voice, face clearly showing genuine interest in the answer though.

He licks his lips, hands now in his pockets. "Not really if I'm honest." He shrugs honestly, making you giggle. "Come on now, I seriously only need you for questioning, I don't care about any other shit you've done."

"How about you buy me dinner first?" You ask, rolling over onto your back, now looking at him upside down, and he's unsure if you're aware of your cleavage ready to spill out of your dress, or if you're trying to put him under your spell.

With eyes as enchanting like yours, he could see it work if the setting was different. Wait- what the hell was he thinking?

"Are you serious?" He growls. "You're not in any place to make demands." He argues, and you shrug at that, before getting up to leave, moving out of sight. "Hey-!" He calls out, walking around the small shed you've climbed up on, unable to spot you. "I'm not getting paid enough for this shit.." He mumbles as he moves a trashcan closer to the side of the building, slowly climbing up onto the roof- to find nothing.

"I'll give it an eight out of ten, but only cause you've got a nice ass, Mister Detective-" You giggle behind him down on the floor, before you laugh. "See you later, Imposter!" You laugh as you run off-

leaving him sighing on the rooftop, questioning his life choices.

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Every day you're out there on your own, is a day where you run the chance of getting yourself killed. And while he's got no emotional connection to you at all, you're still an important witness to his case- so he's got to make sure he can avoid you biting the dust anytime soon.

He spots you near an old fountain that's now worked for years, but still holds water, back turned towards him. From the movement of your ears and the way your tail snaps upwards once, you've clearly notice him already though. "Don't worry-" You chuckle, moving around as he walks closer. "-Won't run off this time." You say, as he's finally close enough to see what you're doing.

The side of one of your legs is severely scratched up, from your ankle straight up to almost your thigh. You're using the water to wash off any dirt, shoes and socks neatly placed next to you. "What happened?" He asks, and you shrug, calmly cleaning yourself as he sits down next to you with a respectful distance.

"Tripped. Fell." You shrug, and it's clear to him that you're not telling him the whole story. Even so, he doesn't need to know it- the only thing he needs to know, is what you've seen the night of the murder.

"We'll get that looked at at the police station." He offers, standing up, and you grin impishly, leaning your head back to look at him above you. "What?"

"You gonna carry me, Mister Detective?" You ask, tail swishing from left to right in your amusement.

"First of all, stop calling me that, second of all, why would I do that?" He asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I'm hurt!" You whine, turning around with your now wet legs, holding the scratched up one out towards him. "I can't walk." You say with big sparkling eyes, and he squints his own as an answer to them it feels like.

"It's just scratched, now dry off and put your shoes on." He demands, making you pout and cross your arms.

"No." You answer, and he has to take a deep breath to contain himself.

He's however, internally, a little confused at himself. Why does this whole thing amuse him so much? He's not so much angry or frustrated, but there's something entirely different brewing inside him. "Hm, that angry look doesn't work quite right with human eyes like that." You say, catching him off guard. "You'd have a way better chance without those fake lenses." You offer, and he doesn't react to it at all.

"Get up." He simply says, and you do so, limping on one foot. "Come on, drop the act now. I don't have all day for your games."

"We could already be on our way if you decided to be a gentleman, Mister Detective." You snap back, picking up your shoes and socks.

"I told you to stop calling me that." He bites at you, and you have the audacity to laugh.

"And I told you to carry me, but I guess we both won't get what we want today." You joke, before you're suddenly lifted up over his shoulder, one arm over the back of your knees to simultaneously keep your dress from lifting up by accident. "What are you doing!?" You stammer out now, and he can't help the smirk growing on his lips as he walks towards the police station.

"Being a gentleman, just like you wanted."

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"She definitely needs some sort of protection until we've found and arrested everyone involved." Another officer named Namjoon says. "She's already been targeted judging from her injuries. She's been lucky until now, but luck is a gamble. Until they've been prosecuted, we'll have to keep her under protective surveillance." Namjoon orders, before he looks at Yoongi.

"Absolutely fucking not." He immediately says, but it stays quiet.

There's no arguing with orders given, so he does ends up walking into the interrogation room, where he unlocks your handcuffs. "Oh, Mister Detective!" You perk up as you catch his scent, tail swatting into his face almost as he leans away from it. "Finally! I'm so hungry, I swear.." You whine, eagerly freeing your hands out of the cuffs before you get up, jumping on one leg as the other ankle had been put inside a brace since you've sprained it. "Can you carry me back to the restaurant downtown?" You wonder hopeful.

"You're not gonna go anywhere for a while." He tells you, moving your hair away from your neck. It's weird that the way his hands touch you makes you shiver a little- nervousness bubbling up inside you as he places the leather collar around your neck, something clicking in place in the back. "I'm legally required to inform you that you've been electronically tagged until you're no longer required to be. You'll be staying under both GPS surveillance and house arrest until the case has been officially closed or dropped, and the tag can be used at any given time to locate you or send out police enforcement to retrieve you in case it's deemed necessary. Did you understand everything I just said?" He asks, and you sigh, kicking out your feet stubbornly.

"…yeah.." You mumble with an attitude, pulling on the collar. "Can you loosen it a bit though? You're kind of choking me and I'm not really into that." You say, and he clicks his tongue.

"That's as much as I can do." He tells you after loosening it a little. "You'll get used to it."

"I guess." You snap with your eyes rolling, standing up. "So.. I'm gonna be locked up?" You ask, looking at him.

"You're just under house arrest, like I said." He shrugs. "Close monitoring is what they call it. I'll basically be forced to be your babysitter until the case is finished, but they'll let you stay at your own home unless decided otherwise." He explains, and you suddenly seem a lot more relieved about that.

"Alright I guess." You say, getting up to grab your shoes, still barefoot., before you lift up your arms towards him.

"What now." He asks with an emotionless face, hands in his pockets.

"I still can't walk." You say.

"You can hop around on that thing." He answers, turning around, before he opens the door- though you've sat back down on your chair, arms crossed.

"I don't wanna hop around." You simply say, looking at him challengingly. He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek- and you just know, if he did have cat ears, they'd be full force airplane-mode right now to visualize his growing frustration with you.

And you love it- because he's so stuck up in being professional that there's no way he'd ever act on whatever the hell he's thinking inside his head. He's probably used to getting his way, a macho and alpha-male who's deep down so insecure about being seen as a proper male that he-

Suddenly your world is upside-down again as he carries you over his shoulder yet again, and you kick your legs out in denial. "Hey no, that's not fair-!" You whine, tail swatting into his face before he grabs a hold of it in the palm of the hand belonging to the arm holding your legs. "-Let me down you suit-wearing di-"

"Better watch your mouth, sugar, or I'll have to charge you with disorderly conduct." He tells you, and you huff in frustration to yourself as you shut up at that, hanging limply off his shoulder as he walks out of the police station with you like this.

"You think Detective Min is going to be able to handle this on his own?" A young police officer wonders to the leading detective Kim, who just chuckles in his office as he watches the scene unfold.

"Oh, I'm not worried about him whatsoever." He simply says, grinning amused.

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It's in the middle of the night, when the small monitor on his wrist begins to buzz, waking him him from his sleep. He's squinting his eyes painfully against the bright light of the small screen, before he realizes what he's reading.

[TAG ALERT: SUSPICIOUS MOVEMENT DETECTED]

He's instantly on his feet, rushing to put on clothes and shoes before he rushes out his door and onto the streets, where he checks the monitor to know where he needs to go. The tag alert itself isn't something he's surprised about- he's expected you to start wandering around even with your little issue- but you're moving way faster than you should be capable of, indicating that there might be something terribly wrong.

In front of the restaurant you've been living at, the mother with her twin children is already standing outside, pointing down the street with one of her toddlers in her arms, making Yoongi immediately run to where she'd directed him to. There's drag marks on the ground, alarming him further as he starts to smell your fear and panic- fueling his instincts to get to you before anything could happen.

"Let go you crack-smoking rodent-!" He can hear you yell, loud commotion coming from down the street behind a closed grocery store- and it's at least a sign to him that you're still very much alive and kicking.

"Fucking bitch just bit me-!" Someone yells out, as Yoongi rounds the corner, gun drawn.

"D-Town police, hands up where I can fucking see them!" He yells, causing everyone to move and dash off, no shot of his landing to keep them there.

"Nice aim there, Mister Detective." You huff on the ground, rubbing the back of your head. "Thought you guys are trained with those things.." You mumble to yourself, as he walks closer to inspect any damage done to you.

"I'll ignore that comment for now." He says as he checks up on you. "What happened?"

"Broke in, took me from my nest, dragged me here like a bag of rice." You explain, as he lifts your head by your chin, thumb wiping your bottom lip where some blood can be seen. You know he's only trying to figure out if you're hurt or if it's not your blood, but it still affects you considering you're not used to be touched like that.

But another thing you notice, is his eyes- his entire appearance, in fact, as you reach out to move your hand through his hair.

"Hey, stop that.!" He barks out, but you've already done what you wanted to do.

"Huh." You simply hum. "Been wondering if you had anything hidden on your head."

"There's nothing to hide there." He growls almost, standing up instantly before he lifts you up by the back of your shirt. "Now come on. We'll get some of your shit from your place, and then you'll stay with me. I'm not taking anymore chances with you." He orders, and surprisingly, you don't question it, and don't even ask to be carried around, simply hopping alongside him for a while as you make your way down the street.

It's quiet, most people asleep at this point in this part of town, when he sighs, turning towards you to pick you up.

"Come here." He mumbles quietly, tapping his shoulders as he turns around and leans down for you to get onto his back. You silently accept the offer, letting him piggyback you to your home where you stay, and pack a small bag of things you deem necessary for your stay with the detective. He watches quietly from the sidelines as you say goodbye to the young cat hybrids, when he's spoken to from the sides.

"She's a good girl." The husband of the mother tells him. "Just shaped by the circumstances, you know? You bite others or get bitten, as simple as that." He explains.

"I'm not arresting her." Yoongi explains, and the man shakes his head.

"No, no, I know you don't." He exclaims. "But I know you guys always think of us as some sort of criminal bunch that don't follow the rules just to spite you, and we're not." He simply explains. "Just- ah, what does it matter to you I guess.." The man shakes his head, before he walks inside, leading his wife and kids into the safety of the restaurant-

while you walk out of it, ready to be carried away.

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Back at his place, you still haven't really said anything- making him suspicious, as he sits on the edge of his bed, having put up a mattress for you to sleep on close to him in case anything happened at night. "Who were those guys?" He asks, and you shrug, pulling out a rather worn down blanket from your plastic bag.

"Don't know." You answer. "Probably with Takehiko, if I had to make a guess." You shrug, before you pull out one small flower shaped pillow to sleep on- the man mentioned, Takehiko, being the prime suspect of the double homicide. He's well known for selling tampered drugs on the streets of D-Town, as well as blackmailing hybrids by threatening to report them to authorities to be taken into shelters.

Yoongi wants to question if you're alright- if everything's okay with you, but he doesn't. It doesn't concern him, it's none of his business, and the less he gets himself involved with you-

the better it will be for the both of you in the end.

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"Mister Detective!" You call out, and he turns around from his desk to find you rolling around on his carpet on the floor. "I'm bored." You whine, and he sighs, turning back around. "Mister De-"

"I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I'm gonna fucking gag you.!" He growls, turning back around again.

"Kinky." You wiggle your ears, and he takes a deep breath before he crosses his arms. "I'm still bored though."

"Go read something then, I'm here to protect you, not entertain you." He mumbles, before it grows quiet. It makes him turn around to notice you staring into nothingness, before you move to curl up on your mattress instead. It makes him wonder if you're always this stubborn if you don't get your way- or if there's something else going on you're just not telling him.

Either way, he doesn't care, and shouldn't, so he continues working on things he usually doesn't have time for during his workdays, while he assumes you sleep.

"Do you have a tail?" You ask out of a sudden, making him choke on his sip of water as he almost spits it out, cough interrupting him for a good moment.

"What the fuck!" He snarls out, setting down his glass as he wipes his mouth.

"So is that a no?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.

"No!" He says, grabbing tissues to wipe his desk down.

"No- no tail or no- yes tail-" You continue, but he cuts you off.

"No as in, none of your fucking business.!" He growls, clearly agitated at that question. "If your plan is to annoy the fuck out of me so someone else will supervise you, guess what, it's working great."

"Wasn't my intention, actually." You shrug, sitting up now. "Was just curious. You know- since you're clearly a cat too, but also not really. Confused me, that's all." You explain.

"Yeah well, you're not the first." He mumbles to himself, sitting back down at his desk.

"Does it confuse you too?" You ask, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Alright, what the fuck does it take for you to shut up?" He asks, looking at you, and you just smile.

"An answer would be cool." You simply say. "Look, I knew a cat hybrid a few years back and he had a super short tail, but he was a really nice guy! Smoked a lot of weed, but still." You explain, and he leans back in his seat, arms crossed defensively. "So?" You ask.

"I don't have one." He tells you.

"Liar." You squint your eyes, ears tilted towards him. "It's short, isn't it?" You ask almost teasingly, and he looks away at that, giving you the answer needed. "Hey, that's totally alright though, no shame in it! Or.." You tilt your head. "Is that why you hate hybrids so much?"

"I don't hate hybrids." He scoffs, shaking his head at you.

"Yeah right, as if it's pure chance that you're known for putting hybrids into shelters left and right." You huff, crossing your arms as well now.

"It's because you belong there if you do not have a legal guardian or permit for independent living." He argues. "I'm only trying to help you out. A shelter provides you food, a place to sleep, education-" He tries to explain, but you're visibly becoming defensive now.

"Oh yeah and don't forget how they hit you with whatever they've got on hand just because you knock over a glass full of juice at the dinner table!" You hiss, annoyed that he's talking about shelters like they're as holy as a church. "Or how they lock you in the shower with ice cold water after you've pissed yourself out of fear as a kitten because everyone just keeps shouting at you-!" You angrily say, and his features remain without any emotion as he realizes you're not just making up examples you might've heard.

Considering the details and the way you tremble saying those things, it's clear to him that you're talking about your experience in a shelter.

"But what is it to you." You suddenly shrug. "You go continue cosplaying as a human I guess." You mumble, turning around to hide under your blanket again, silence engulfing the room for a moment or two, before he gets up and moves around. You don't know what he's doing, and you honestly don't want to know. You also don't know what you thought blurting your childhood trauma out like that would bring you as a result- but that's how you are, and have always been. Impulsive, wild, a little hyperactive and too honest most of the time.

Suddenly, he's close to you, and you hiss in pure pettiness at him, before you stop in your tracks, watching him.

His face is as stoic as ever, sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he wraps a blanket around you, tucking another one into places, and you're confused. "I- what're you doing?" You ask, and he scoffs to himself.

"You're the hybrid, I honestly got no clue how to do this shit." He mumbles, sighing in defeat as he sits back with crossed legs, letting his hands fall into his lap in defeat.

"But you're a hybrid too." You ask confused, though he shakes his head.

"I'm a freak, there's no need to try and sugarcoat it." He shrugs. "Neither here nor there. I don't know what it's like to be put through the shit you might've been, since I never lived life from your perspective-" He explains, "-and I don't know what it's like to be a human either, since you can only hide so much." The detective explains, watching how you correct his admittedly poor attempt at nesting for you.

It's clear to you that he's trying to apologize for his assumptions without actually having to apologize- the detective is a lot easier to read than he might think he is.

"Yeah, I mean you kind of suck at being both, I won't lie." You say, making him look at you with harmless offense. "What? Your nesting sucks ass, and those contact lenses you constantly wear creep me out." You jab at him. "But!" You bark out, leaning closer to him, catching him off guard a little. "Seeing as we're kind of stuck together, I can give you a rundown on being a hybrid!"

"And why exactly would I want that?" He asks you monotonously, and you roll your eyes.

"Because you clearly got some major identity-issues going on?" You tell him as if it's obvious. "And I also clearly can't magically turn you 100% human out of nowhere."

"I don't have Identity-issues-" He argues, while you look at him with an unconvinced gaze, arms crossed.

"Mid-life-crisis then?" You ask, "You do look pretty old.." You mumble at him.

"I'm not old!" He hisses, and you grin suddenly, ears in airplane-mode while your tail swishes from side to side in happiness. "What?" He asks annoyed again.

"Your teeth." You notice, and he instantly closes his mouth, lips pressed firmly together at having them called out like that. "And you're also not wearing those creepy lenses." You continue to point out, tilting your head to the side. "Handsome, I like it." You comment, and for some reason, that's what forces him to stand up and move away from you, all while you fall onto your back, laughing loudly.

"Shut the fuck up and tell me what you want to eat for dinner instead."

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #yoongi imagines

[wishluc]

I love yandre himeko thou what about kafka thou??😍😍

Literally insane about her it's crazy

A Stellaron Hunter has no business in the Space Station, as far as you're aware.

But it's not like you can go anywhere with Kafka's gun under your chin, her pink eyes looking up at you with unabashed interest. The contrasting sensations of cold metal and her burning gaze sends your heart faltering, your mind spinning as you try to come up with a way to escape the situation.

"Now, my dear," Kafka's smooth voice sends shivers down your spine, and she grins, clearly having noticed the effect she has on you and taking great delight in it, "no need to be so rash. Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

You gulp, watching closely as her eyes narrow, "Uhm, Miss…" Your tongue falters mid-sentence, terror tightening its grip on you as Kafka pushes her weapon into your skin, as though to serve as a reminder, "I don't have access to—"

"Shh," she whispers, slowly withdrawing her gun. Just when you thought you could finally relax your tense figure, she swiftly grabs you by the waist and spins you around, slamming your face up against the wall, wrists held behind your back. Your gasp echoes through the room, but Kafka merely chuckles, "My apologies. I need to take certain precautions, as I'm sure you'll understand. Though if we're being honest, I don't mind your fight. It's what I like about you, your resolve, your determination…you're a clever little thing, aren't you?"

"And please, call me Kafka. We have more than enough time to get acquainted with each other, don't we?"

You only manage to wheeze out a few words before Kafka shushes you again, "I don't have—"

"That's perfectly alright," Her voice is still light, her tone airy, like your current predicament was just a normal occurrence for her, "I don't need any of that."

Then, with a steady hand pushing against the small of your back with unexpected force, you feel her other hand dig into your pocket. Your shuffling and twisting do nothing to slow her exploration, as she finally pulls out your ID card (although you couldn't see her, you could swear that she had a triumphant smile on her face).

"[Name]…a researcher, I see? How interesting. How long have you been working here, darling?"

"3 years now," you focus on your trembling fingers, ignoring the way they grazed Kafka's skin whenever you tried to stretch them out.

"Are you interested a change in careers, by any chance? I have a wonderful opportunity for you. Though…" she trails off, as if internally contemplating something, "I wouldn't want any of my companions getting too close to you either…"

You're not sure if her question warrants an answer, especially considering the clear fact that a researcher like you has no place among the criminals of the Stellaron Hunters.

"Or not," she chuckles, "maybe," she brings her lips right to your ear, and you go absolutely still, too afraid to even breathe, and then she lowers her voice, "you'd like to be my pet instead?"

You don't even have the time to process her words before she's laughing to herself, a soft, lovely sound that worms its way into your soul, "just kidding, of course."

You're not sure what to make of this woman, except for the fact that she was probably half-mad. And you were going to be stuck with her longer if nobody came in to help, and who knew what she'd do to you then?

"How about this?" Kafka's grip on your wrists loosens, and she instead goes to hold your shaking fingers, gently squeezing them in her hands, "I have work to do here, unfortunately, so we'll have to part ways. But I promise you that I'll find a way to come see you again, so then…You'll come to greet me, won't you?"

You nod, wordlessly, and she finally steps away, allowing you to turn around and come face-to-face with her. She's smiling, just as dangerous and as beautiful as when you first saw her, her eyes glimmering with something you can only identify as amusement, and she holds, in between gloved fingers, your ID card.

"Good," she looks you over one last time, pocketing the card, "I won't forget, darling. So you keep your end of the deal too, alright?"

You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak, and she begins to walk away, stopping at the door. Her head turns ever so slightly, her piercing gaze directed right at you as she utters her parting words, "I'll see you soon."

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

#[100% Self Indulgent but hey you really wouldn't want to be threatened by Kafka? Just me?] #[So obsessed with her that it's concerning] #yandere x reader drabble #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere kafka x reader #yandere kafka #asa.writes 🌀 #honkai star rail. 🌀 #kafka. 🌀 #mail. 🌀 #cw yandere #drabble. 🌀 #drabble request v01. 🌀 #requested work. 🌀

[emilyprentissluvr]

Until Next Time (Don't Blame Me: Chapter 3)

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Warnings: Typical Criminal Minds stuff

Words: 2.9k

EMILY PULLED Y/n closer so that her back was flushed to the agent's front. "You're bluffing," Emily scoffed as she eyed the woman. She knew from Y/n's profile that she didn't kill people whom she deemed innocent. So there was no way she would blow up a bar full of a hundred people.

"Are you really willing to take that risk?" Y/n smiled sweetly and it took the brunette less than a second to lead Y/n out of the bathroom and pull the fire alarm.

The alarm started blaring and people started making their way out of the bar. Emily looked at the detonator again and saw it was now at a minute. She didn't like how slowly the crowd was moving so she yelled at the top of her lungs, "Everybody out! It's a real fire!" And luckily, people started moving much faster.

"What's going on?" Derek said as he ran toward the women, ignoring Y/n's smug smile and focusing on Emily. He'd had his eye trained on the bathroom door, waiting for them to come out. 

"She said there's a bomb," Emily said as she kept her eyes on the crowd, wanting to ensure everyone got out. 

"Where?" Derek said as he eyed Y/n, who just shrugged playfully.

"I don't know and I don't think we have time to find out," Emily said as she showed Derek the detonator which was now counting down from 45 seconds. 

"Get her out of here and I'll make sure everyone else is out," Derek stated leaving no room for argument. 

Emily nodded and pulled Y/n out to a less crowded exit. "You know, as much fun as this is, could you loosen your grip a bit?" Y/n pouted over her shoulder at the brunette.

Emily scoffed as she walked the two of them further away from the building. She saw Hotch and JJ driving toward them in their SUV before quickly hopping out and jogging towards the women. 

"Mm, the blonde is pretty," Y/n noted and Emily just gritted her teeth. 

"What? Did I hit a nerve?" Y/n teased and the brunette ignored her as she walked them toward the unit chief.

"What happened?" Hotch asked as he pulled out his cuffs and handed them to Emily.

"She said she put a bomb in there," Emily said as she quickly cuffed Y/n's hands behind her back.  "Derek's getting everyone out but I'm pretty sure she's bluffing," The brunette continued as she tightened the handcuffs even more. 

"She is right here," Y/n said, causing everyone to turn toward her. "And she would appreciate it if you loosened the cuffs a bit." Y/n continued as she wiggled her hands from behind her.

"Can you focus on something other than yourself for two goddam seconds and tell us if the bomb is real or not?!" Emily growled, her patience for Y/n's antics dwindling more and more.

"That's kind of a lot to ask of a psychopath, don't you think?" Y/n pouted as she turned her head over her shoulder to look at the brunette. "That's what you guys profiled me as, right? A high-functioning psychopath?"

"You won't be so high functioning when you spend the rest of your life in prison." Emily retorted which only earned a laugh from the younger woman, "We'll see about that."

"Prentiss," Hotch interrupted, not liking how much Emily was getting riled up. "The detonator." He said as he held out his hand for the agent to give to him. Emily begrudgingly gave it to the man and watched as his eyebrows rose slightly.

"What is it?" JJ asked as she leaned closer, trying to see whatever Hotch had discovered.

"Well, she is bluffing," Hotch said as he turned the device around and showed that the timer had already run out and nothing had happened, "And this isn't a detonator, It's a remote control for a toy car. Jack has one of these things." The unit chief pointed out quietly, not wanting to make Emily even more mad.

"You're kidding me?!" Emily scoffed as she turned to face Y/n who had the biggest smile on her face, "What? I bought it from the toy store before I came. Like I said before, it's fun to rile you up." 

"You think this is funny?! " Emily said lividly, hating how Y/n was getting under her skin. 

"No, of course not. I think it's hilarious," Y/n said licking her lips.

"We're done here," Hotch said calmly, already sensing how Emily was on the verge of blowing up. "Take her to the SUV." The unit chief continued and Emily nodded, not having to be told twice. She practically dragged Y/n the ten feet of the car before throwing open the door. 

"This was fun, darling! Next time we'll have to use handcuffs in a different context if you know what I mean." Y/n said brashly with a wink as Emily forced her into the car and connected the cuffs to the seat.

"There will be no next time." Emily gritted out and Y/n smiled innocently, "We'll see about that, Agent Prentiss."

The brunette slammed the door shut and walked toward JJ and Hotch, not wanting to spend another second in the younger woman's company. 

"You okay?" Hotch asked and Emily blew out a breath, "Yeah, she's just- a lot."

"Well, at least it's over now," JJ said as she gave her friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Emily nodded as she turned to look at Y/n who was still looking at her with a smile on her face. Something felt wrong but Emily couldn't put her finger on it. 

"Yeah, you're right," Emily said, shaking the worries out of her mind, "I'm not riding back with her though." She said seriously to her boss.

"Don't worry, I'll make Derek do it." The unit chief said and Emily sighed with relief. She was done with Y/n. She could forget all about today. Well, maybe not forget about it, but at least compartmentalize it until it wasn't a big deal.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

"Would you like to play a game, Agent Morgan?" Y/n asked as she stared at the bald man next to her. One of the local Police officers was driving but Derek had insisted on sitting in the back seat next to the woman, not wanting to take his eyes off of her for a second. 

"No," Derek replied shortly, trying to ignore the headache that had been blooming in his temple since leaving the bar.

Y/n sighed dramatically, "Oh come on, It'll be fun!"

"No," Derek said again and the woman just shook her head, "Twenty questions. You ask me whatever you want and I'll answer with the complete truth."

"Really?" Derek asked and Y/n nodded her head, "As long as you answer my questions. No lying."

Derek thought the idea over. Realistically he knew there was no harm, in fact, he could probably get more answers out of Y/n right now than in an interrogation room. "Fine. But I'm asking a question first," Derek said and Y/n nodded with a smile, happy that the agent was playing along. 

"What's your full name?" Derek asked and Y/n sighed boredly, "Y/n Y/l/n. Although I guarantee  you won't get far with it."

"What does that mean-"

"Ah ah. Mine turn." Y/n tutted, "Is there anything going on between Emily and the blonde?" 

Derek blinked slowly, "That's seriously the question you're asking me?"

"Yes," Y/n said as she eyed the man with a frown. Derek rolled his eyes but answered honestly, "No. Nothing is going on between Emily and JJ."

A smile touched Y/n's lips that Derek didn't like the looks of but he decided to ignore it for now. 

"What was the name of your first victim?" The agent asked. Four years ago when he first worked the case the team knew that the first victim they found couldn't have been Y/n's first victim. The crime scene was organized and perfectly executed so it was obvious that Y/n worked up to it. 

"Alex Painter" Y/n answered and to an untrained eye, it looked as if the woman wasn't bothered. But Derek could see through her, could see the way Y/n's eyes narrowed slightly and how she bit the inside of her cheek. The agent wanted to ask more but he could tell that Y/n wasn't going to answer. 

"My turn! What's Emily's favorite flower?" Y/n said, seemingly snapping out of whatever funk she was put in by the question.

 Derek paused for a moment his stomach feeling uneasy. However, he couldn't tell if it was because all the questions were focused on Emily or because his headache was starting to make him feel nauseous. 

"Chrysanthemum's." He said, remembering when Emily pointed them out to him on a case one time.

"You choose to shoot your victims in the head, why?" Derek asked, turning the conversation back to Y/n. This had been a question Rossi brought up this morning. The use of a gun made the kills seem impersonal but the brand of the angel wings did the complete opposite. 

"It's efficient and fast. I don't see a point in prolonging the inevitable. The men I kill deserved what they had coming to them." She said, her voice void of any emotion and it almost sent a shiver down the agent's spine.  

"My turn again! What's Emily's favorite food?" Y/n asked, her emotions suddenly flipping back on.

"Why do you want to know that?" Derek asked and Y/n frowned, "Answer my question or I'm done talking."

The agent sighed, he knew Y/n wasn't bluffing so he answered cautiously, "She loves Thai food."

Y/n smiled as her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip, "Interesting," The woman said and Derek immediately wanted to change the topic, "Why did you move back to the States?" He asked and Y/n sighed, "It was for work. I wasn't too keen on the idea of moving back but I can't deny how much fun I'm having."

"Fun you've had," Derek corrected, blinking slowly as his vision became fuzzy. 

"Sure," Y/n laughed hysterically as she fell over and Derek had no idea what was going on. His mind felt so slow as he tried to comprehend the scene in front of him. His words weren't meant to be funny so he was extremely confused as he watched the woman practically fold over with laughter.

That was until he looked down and noticed the cuffs were no longer secured around Y/n's wrist. Before he had time to react Y/n had quickly pulled the gun from his ankle holster and shot the cop driving the car in the hand.

The cop screamed in pain as his hands came off the steering wheel, causing the car to swerve into a ditch on the side of the road. Luckily they were only going about 25 miles per hour so when they hit a tree Derek and Y/n barely lurched forward. Derek, uncharacteristically, had been frozen since the moment he heard the gunshot. His head was pounding and his eyes were unfocused as he stared at the woman in front of him.

"I really am sorry about this, Derek." Y/n sighed as she toyed with the gun in her hand. The agent tried to reach toward her but the haze in his eyes was getting worse. "What....did.....you....d-do?" Derek muttered.

"Nothing a bandaid won't fix. And trust me, women find scars very sexy." Y/n said, and before Derek even had time to react he felt the gun slam right into his temple. The last thing he remembered was trying to reach out for Y/n as she climbed out of the car before his vision went black.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

Emily's breath fogged the window as stared into the night from the back seat of the SUV. She had the urge to trace her bottom lip, the same ones Y/n had kissed less than an hour ago, but she didn't let herself. She hated how that moment kept replaying in her mind. Hated how she had enjoyed it, even if it was for a sliver of a second.

"You okay back there, Em?" JJ asked as she turned around from the passenger seat. The blonde had been worried about her friend since she sat in the car. 

"Yeah, just tired," Emily said with a small smile that even she knew was unconvincing. Although her words were the truth, she had never been tempted to drown a bottle of wine and crash right into bed.

"Why don't you take the day off tomorrow," Hotch suggested from the driver's seat.

"I'm fine." Emily rolled her eyes, not liking the attention on her.

"Prentiss that wasn't a request-" Hotch started before he was interrupted by the police intercom on the dashboard of the SUV.

"I need backup and medical on 24th Street immediately! We have an agent down and the suspect is on the run! I repeat the suspect is on the run!" A scratchy voice from the device called out.

Emily's eyes widened as she heard the dispatcher repeat it all over again. 

"Oh my god. You don't think that's..." JJ trailed off, already knowing the answer.

Hotch immediately turned his sirens on and hit the gas. Luckily they were only a minute away but the drive felt like hours before they saw the car off the side of the road.

Emily got out of the car before Hotch could even put it in park, and raced to the site of the crash. She saw that the paramedics leading the cop with the shot hand to the ambulance but no sign of Y/n.  She looked behind the car and into the miles of woods that Y/n could be in. Her first instinct was to run in there and find her until she heard a grunt of pain from the car. Her eyes widened when she realized she recognized that sound very well. 

"Derek?!" Emily yelled as she ran closer and was relieved to find him sitting in the car with an icepack on his forehead. The paramedics had tried to get him to the ambulance but he had refused until he could tell the team exactly what happened. 

"Jesus Prentiss, lower your voice." He winced and the brunette immediately apologized but was glad to see that he was still pretty much the same. 

"What happened?" Hotch asked as he walked up from behind Emily.

"She was asking me a bunch of questions and then all of a sudden my vision started going blurry. Next thing I know she's shooting Detective Watson in the hand and I'm getting knocked out with my own Glock." Derek says, still evidently out of it in a way that concerns all three agents who are listening to him.

"You need to get checked out by the medics," Hotch said immediately and Derek shook his head, which only made the pain worse, "Hotch, I'm fine-"

"Derek you were obviously drugged. So you will get checked by the medics. I'm not negotiating." Hotch, said before he yelled for the medics. Two men immediately rushed over to Derek's annoyance but he was more at least he was more cooperative. Hotch immediately went into Unit Chief mode and took control of the scene. He had Emily and JJ look over the car for details while he got in touch with the Bureau about putting out an APB for Y/n.

Emily walked to the opposite side of the car. The door was still open from when Y/n had escaped and the cuffs were opened and on the ground. The brunette shook her head as she imagined the smug look on Y/n's face the last time she had seen her, "I should have seen this coming."

"This isn't your fault," JJ said slowly, slightly confused as to why the brunette was taking this so hard.

"I knew something was wrong but I didn't say anything. Maybe if I had, Derek wouldn't have gotten hurt and Y/n wouldn't have gotten away-" Emily started before the blonde cut her off, "No one could have predicted this. Not even you."

Emily bit the inside of her cheek as she turned to look at the forest behind her. The breeze was making the limbs of the tree sway and it felt as if the unknown was taunting her. "She's been two steps ahead of us this whole time," The brunette said as she turned back to JJ. "And we just let her get away."

"Emily-" JJ started but the brunette was already walking away, not wanting to look at the car or the empty handcuffs for another second. She walked toward Derek who was fighting with the medics. "I don't need to go to the hospital!" Derek grumbled as the paramedic walked away with an annoyed look on his face. When Emily was close she shot the paramedic an apologetic look before taking a seat next to her partner. 

"Do they know what she drugged you with?" The brunette asked and Derek shook his head, "They won't know without further testing but they said it didn't seem too serious. My only concern is that I don't even know when she did it. Or how."

"That does seem to be the question of the day. How the hell did she pull all of that off?" Emily muttered and Derek shrugged, "I don't know, but I did get some information out of her."

"Anything useful?"

"Yeah, well more concerning than anything."

"What does that mean?" Emily asked with a frown.

"It means that not only do we have a serial killer on the loose. But we have one that's obsessed with you, Prentiss." Derek said sympathetically and Emily just stared straight forward into the woods, imagining Y/n leaning against one of the trees and giving her a cocky wink.

"Lovely," Emily muttered. 

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #david rossi

[luckybunny555]

.˚◦⟡ Outta The Clouds✦.·୭ ˚○◦˚.

While hanging out with Gwen, you notice a slight change in her mood, so you try to cheer her up. She ends up confessing her feelings for you

🕷 Gwen Stacy x Spider!Reader 🕷

a/n: I got this idea when I discovered this song(title) and it was just so cute I had to write it! Reader's gender neutral, this is just pure fluff. okay, I realized there's actually a bit of angst too I guess, but juuust a little bit.

Oh, and another note, english isn't my first language so I was a bit unsure about a few words and terms I used(like "stunt" and "splutter" and "peck"), so please lmk if there's anything incorrect or other words that would fit better! Thank you :)

The sun was starting to hide behind the tall buildings of New York, turning the sky pink and lilac, and you and Gwen had been swinging through your city for a while now. She'd been helping you keep an eye out for any criminals or civilians who needed help, but mostly, she was just distracting you with her jokes and new "spider-stunts" she had learned. Not that you minded, though - neither of your spider-senses had warned you of any danger, so you had time to watch her and giggle at her little performances(clearly an attempt to catch your attention and impress you, but neither of you would admit it out loud). And to be honest, how could you mind it, when she was just so pretty and charming when showing off her new tricks, and how her experience as a dancer gave her a certain gracefulness, especially when she would land on some random roof? Safe to say, she had your attention all for herself.

Eventually, you two took a break, finding a nice spot on a tall building, sitting on the ledge to catch your breath and enjoy the view. Taking off your masks, you share a glace that makes both of you let out a chuckle. You return your attention to the setting sun, admiring its beauty. For a few moments, the two of you sit in silence, seeming peaceful and relaxed as you appreciated the scenery in front of you. Until you realize a slight change in Gwen's expression - head low, eyes focused on her hands, the corners of her lips almost curling down. You cross your legs, shifting slightly closer to her, your eyes sofly scanning her face.

"What's bothering you, pretty girl?" Your head tilts to the side as you offer her a gentle smile, earning from her a small chuckle. She looks at you for a moment, then turns her gaze back to her hands, fiddling with the fabric of her mask.

"Just... thinking about my dad," She responds quietly, letting out a sigh. You knew about what she was going through, and every time you were reminded of it, your heart would sink in your chest. Her words made you want to wrap your arms tightly around her and never let go, to protect her from everything else in the world, to create the most peaceful and safe world inside yourself just for her to live in. But instead, you simply placed your hand over hers, slowing down her nervous movements, making her turn her head to look at you.

You didn't really know what to do about it. If you could, you would solve all of her problems with a magic wand just so you could see her truly happy again. You'd do anything for her. But right now, the best you could do was cheer her up, get her mind off of her troubles and remind her that she was loved by many other people - but mostly, by you.

You reached for your phone, looking for a specific song from your playlist. "Y'know, I'm a firm believer that some songs offer more comfort than normal words can," You tell her, one hand still holding hers as the other holds your phone, your eyes fixed on it. When you find it, you put it on, turning up the volume and placing your phone in the small gap between you two, giving her a sweet, reassuring smile.

As the song starts, you start to sway your head and body to the rythm, the soft and uplifting energy taking over you. Occasionally, you'd sing along to some of the lyrics, either some "message" you wanted to emphasize, since you couldn't word them exactly yourself, or just some verse you had memorized. You took her hand, causing her to sway with you, earning a subtle chuckle from her as she shook her head, amused by your cheerful energy.

The way you smiled and sang along to the song got her stuck in a trance, unable to take her eyes off of you. It even brought a soft smile to her face. She was mesmerized by the way you moved so freely, and how careless and relaxed you seemed to be, even though she was watching. Truth is, sometimes your heart would skip a beat when you noticed her gaze on you, or you'd feel your cheeks heating up. But you tried to brush it off, because your goal was to lighten up her mood, and by the way her smile was growing wider, and how you'd occasionally hear a laugh from her, it seemed you were succeeding. So you kept swaying, occasionally using your intertwined hands as a fake microphone, looking at her while your singing mixed with giggles.

When the song ended, you exchanged a glance, causing you both to laugh. It warmed your heart to see her like that, genuine laughter escaping from her lips as she shut her eyes closed, shaking her head again. When both of you were able to quiet your laughter, your eyes met again, and time seemed to slow down as you observed how the golden light from the sunset illuminated her face. For a quick moment, that seemed to last longer than it did, you noticed the softness of her features, the color of her eyes, her freckles... You ended up forgetting that she was looking at you too.

"Can I tell you something?" She said, finally breaking the silence, snapping you out of your own trance. Her tone was soft and gentle, so you didn't notice the hesitance in her voice, and you couldn't tell how fast her heart was beating when she finally got the courage to speak. You nod, with your attention focused on her and not on the butterflies that seemed to appear in your stomach. "I feel like there's a sun inside my heart... whenever I'm with you."

Her words make your heart skip a beat, taken by surprise. You let out a nervous chuckle, averting her gaze for a moment as you try to soothe your own quick heartbeats, and failing at that. You bring one of your knees up, close to your chest, and rest your head on top of it, taking a deep breath as you look at her. "Does it feel like it's burning?" You joke, trying to cope with your nervousness. But you could feel your cheeks burning, and it wasn't from the warm sunlight that hit your skin.

She shakes her head, chuckling. "Feels more like a blanket," she tells you, and you could swear the way her eyes reflect the setting sun is the prettiest thing you've ever seen. "You make me comfortable," she adds, "and I find myself looking for any opportunity to spend time with you, because you're so bright and sweet, that I just want to..." she doesn't finish her sentence, letting out a sigh as she seems to think about her next words.

Your eyes are fixed on her, studying carefully her expression, and waiting expectantly for her to speak again. You could tell where this was going, and the sensation of butterflies kept growing, making you eager to hear what she would say next. The whole world seemed to fade away in this moment, the girl beside you seemed more interesting and beautiful than anything else.

"I want to be with you, like, all the time," she finally declared, chuckling nervously while turning her gaze to you, looking for your reaction as she tried to figure out what you were feeling or thinking. "I hope you get what I mean, I'm not really sure how to put this into words," she spluttered, unsure about your feelings for her.

"Mm-hm," you nod with a subtle smile, unable to form a coherent sentence with your heart pounding in your chest and your mind emptying with each second that you stare at her. Everything around you seemed to melt like ice-cream, and so did your heart.

She turns her head to face you, your eyes meeting again, and at this point, you can't ignore your butterflies anymore. With a bit of hesitancy, she slowly leans closer to you, moving her gaze from your eyes to your lips as she waited for a hint of your consent. When you finally leaned closer, mirroring her, she connected your lips and hers. She brought her hand to your cheek as she gave you another peck on your lips, gently holding your face. You weren't sure if this moment lasted forever or just a second, but you were simply glad for experiencing it.

The both of you slightly pull away, breaking the kiss with a soft smile on your faces, but you keep your eyes closed for a second longer. When your eyes meet again, you let out a giggle, appreciating the moment - and grateful for her confession. You shift your body closer to hers, laying your head on her shoulder to watch the almost hidden sun. You could still feel the warmth on your cheeks when she placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head before resting her head on yours, breaths slowing down and matching your rhythm.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. For now, it certainly was, because she could feel you right next to her, and that was enough to spark some hope in her heart.

#spiderman #spider man #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #across the spider verse #spiderman : across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman: atsv #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv gwen #gwen stacy #ghost spider #spider gwen #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy x you #ghost spider x reader #spider gwen x reader