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cupidkenji · 5 months

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ghost in the machine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Personal grudge.”

“How do you get their data so fast?”

“I know a guy” He knew a guy?

“So you have a partner?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why not?”

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

“It’s important to me.”

He chuckled at that. You needed to hang up.

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

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

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

No, it wasn’t.

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re the best.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two sons. “What about his brother?”

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

“How would you know?”

“I’m not in cuffs, am I?”

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

“No.”

“Maybe they’re listening.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer the question.”

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

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

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

“What do you know about honor?”

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

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

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

“As opposed to what? Fitting with you?”

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

“Nightmares, maybe.”

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

“You didn’t answer my question.”

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

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

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

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

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

“This isn’t a game.”

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Matthew.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

–

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

“Y/n.” He greeted you. “This is new.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

“Spencer?”

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

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you really not know where I lived?”

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

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

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

“Spencer-”

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

“Can I think about it?

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

“What happens if I don’t go?”

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

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

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #x chubby reader #x fat reader #x plus size reader #spencer reid x chubby reader #spencer reid x plus size reader #spencer reid x fat reader #spencer reid fanfiction #suggestive #probably ass #im sorry for this #cupid:SR

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fyodior · 11 months

Text

STOP.

✸ pairing: lovecraft x afab ada!reader

✸ cw: VERY DARK CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI. tentacles, noncon, oviposition (eggs), choking, womb fucking.

✸ notes: breedtober fic 5! mentioned but this takes place during season 2 and the guild conflict, reader is in the ADA. easily the nastiest thing ive ever written! proceed with caution and/or have fun :)

✸ wc: 1.3k (im sick)

want more of breedtober?

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone noncon in any way, shape, or form. this is just fiction with no reflection of real life. there are tentacles. please refrain from leaving hate comments, and just unfollow/block. or simply scroll away. thank u!

You should’ve never, ever underestimated him. He might’ve seemed aloof, fatigued, and uninterested in anything but completing a day’s work, but it was all just a façade. How could you be so stupid? To write this eldritch monster, H. P. Lovecraft, off as harmless and unthreatening was the worst mistake you could’ve made. Following closely behind choosing to walk the streets of Yokohama alone at night as an ADA detective while the conflict with The Guild had yet to be resolved, and all the members of said organization were still at large.

“Please- please!” you cried out, tears in your eyes as you were being dragged into a dark alleyway by the man with the ability no one could fathom or understand. The one not even Dazai could nullify and put up a good fight against Chuuya’s corrupted state. “Let me go! Please!”

“Please stop talking,” Lovecraft deadpanned, sounding as bored and indifferent as he would if you had only asked him what time it was. His face was completely expressionless in the most terrifying way. “I just want this done.”

Despite his wishes, you still continued to thrash in his oddly strong arms – you never would’ve guessed based on his general appearance, another mistake – even as he pinned you down facedown against an abandoned dumpster and tugged your pants down. You couldn’t see it but you could hear it – the way his arm that wasn’t holding you down transformed from human skin and bone to… something else. Something green, wet, and slimy. A tentacle. One that was currently slithering down the back of your panties and poking at your hole.

"Why are you doing this?” you wailed, coiling away from the disgusting, horrifying feeling of the appendage attempting to touch your sex.

“It’s mating season,” is all he offers, as if it’s the most obvious explanation in the world. The one hand that he’d been using to hold you down had now morphed into four tentacles, each restricting you so tightly you started wondering if fighting was completely useless.

“Why me?” was your next question.

“I’d really prefer it if you eliminated any and all speech.”

As if to really drive his point home, potentially to even punish you, the tentacles wrapped even tighter around your limbs before the one most precariously located penetrated you hard. As thick as a soda can, the slimy tentacle made you scream at the top of your lungs. You could feel the way your poor, unprepared pussy was stretched so tight around the girth it felt like you were about to tear. Never mind the way it squirmed and wiggled further and further into your cunt, pulsing and writhing until it reached your cervix.

You screamed and cried and wailed desperately until Lovecraft got so sick of it, he formed another tentacle to curl around your throat and mouth, choking and gagging you.

The man, if he could even be called that, maintained his bored, uninterested appearance even as he restrained, choked, and fucked you with his ability. The tentacle wasted no time in further violating your cunt, picking up a painful rhythm as it thrust in and out of you, reaching all the way to your cervix each and every time. Your legs trembled and slime leaked steadily out of your hole onto the concrete ground – at least there was lubrication.

Despite your violent protests and pleading for it all to stop, it would be a lie to say it didn’t feel… good. That the way this monster fucked you didn’t stretch you so deliciously, that the tapered tip of the tentacle didn’t flick against your sweet spot continuously. That was the only reason Lovecraft loosened the grip on your mouth – to let you moan. And moan you did.

“Feel good?” he smirked, the curls of his lips the first sign of emotion he had shown all night.

“Please- ngh- please stop!” you cried out, words forcibly interrupted by a hearty moan as he angled the tentacle slightly differently, having somehow perfectly zeroed in on your sweet spot. “Fuck!”

It was made even worse when yet another tentacle slithered close, curling around your waist and underneath you. You were unsure of its purpose only for a moment, until it began tracing your slit and massaging your clit.

“Stop!” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut and banging your fist against the rusted metal of the garbage bin. The echoes of the warping metal only slightly drowned out your moans of pleasure. Lovecraft’s smirk only grew – he didn’t need your consent, but a willing partner was always easier to breed.

“Just let it feel good,” he sighed, stretching the tentacle inside you even wider.

“N-never,” you groaned, though it really, really felt good. Now both slime and slick were dripping out of your hole, a nasty mixture that ran down your thighs and pooled in your pants that were still bunched around your knees.

You had gotten so lost in the terribly intoxicating feeling of getting fucked alongside it rubbing your clit that you had completely forgotten about the breeding comment he had made – but Lovecraft didn’t.

“You should be ready soon,” he hummed, eyeing the size of the appendage buried in your pussy and attempting to gauge its size in reference to the egg.

“R-ready? For w-” your question was answered before you were even able to finish asking it. The reason why he wanted to get you to feel good, to loosen up. For the eggs.

A bloodcurdling screech penetrated Lovecraft’s ears, loud and disturbing enough that he actually frowned, once the first egg passed through the appendage and reached your hole.

“What is that?”

He had maybe slightly underestimated the size of the egg, as your body seemed to be resisting it much more than he thought it would – it’d been a bit since he’d done this. He had to form multiple extra tentacles for this part of the process; one to shut you up once again so he could concentrate, two to spread your thighs as wide as possible to allow for easiest entry, and a few more to keep you more still. A moving target was much harder to hit.

The first egg still remained lodged in your pussy, struggling to push past the ring of muscle so it could exit the tentacle and insert itself into your womb. With stimulation coming from every which direction, you hadn’t even noticed the way the very tip of the tentacle had slithered past your cervix and directly inside your uterus.

“Fucking- take it,” Lovecraft groaned frustratedly, spreading your cheeks painfully wider to pry your pussy open, until finally the egg was able to pass through. If able to pass your lips, your screams likely would’ve shattered windows. The worst part was the egg forcing its way through your cervix and nestling happily inside your womb.

But the absolute worst part of it all? This felt good, too.

There was something so horrifically enticing, so disturbingly erotic about a mysterious eldritch being stuffing its eggs deep inside you, depending on you to carry and incubate them. And those were the thoughts that unfortunately filled your head as he fucked eggs into you one by one, your tummy distending with each addition.

It even filled your head as you lay half naked against the dumpster, back against a brick wall once Lovecraft had relieved himself of all his eggs and abandoned you in that alleyway.

You could hear Kunikida calling your name with fear and fervor in the distance, clearly having found out you were attacked, but all you could do was rub your abnormally round belly and giggle almost drunkenly as you replayed those moments over and over in your mind – how could you have gotten so lucky?

#lovecraft x reader #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #my words

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midnight-black2 · 5 months

Note

ok so i have an idea. (this is before jann got into gt academy)

jann has had a crush on us for a very long time. coby invites jann to a party saying we’ll be there (so ofc he comes) and they play spin the bottle/7 mins in heaven

𝟕 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing : jann mardenborough x reader, prompt #8

synopsis : it's exactly what the req says lol

disclaimers : sub!jann, dom!reader, teasing, kissing, etc, this is rather mild tbh

note : yayy first req for my eventtt.

jann was definitely not the type to attend parties, but for you? he'd do it, no questions asked. so when his brother practically begged jann to drive him to said party, jann couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you, which is how he found himself in that rare situation; standing awkwardly by your side as all the others drunkenly shouted and laughed.

now, you'd be lying if you said you didn't find jann absolutely adorable, but you weren't quite sure if he was equally as interested in you. you never wanted to make him feel uncomfortable, and for this reason, your relationship never went past a small hug or longing gazes.

you were tipsy, not drunk, but you were confident, and all nerves had washed away with the first drink. you swayed, your pinky finger grazing his, which caused him to noticeably tense up just a bit. his cheeks were dusted with a light shade of pink. you wished you could say you hadn't done it on purpose, but you wanted to see a reaction out of him. it was amusing to you, to say the least.

"you know what we should do?" coby asks, in a loud voice. he had definitely had one too many to drink. he stumbled around, making his way across the room haphazardly, before resting his hand on janns shoulder. "we should totally play seven minutes in heaven!" you chuckled.

"what are we, sixth graders ?" you laughed, teasingly. you weren't entirely against the idea. however, you also weren't entirely for the idea of being stuffed in a closet with anyone else but jann. you also didn't seem to like the idea of jann being stuffed in a closet with anyone but you.

"oh cmon, it'll be fun," audrey replied, and coby nodded eagerly. everyone else seemed willing to play, and even jann wasn't necessarily protesting.

"i mean sure, im surely not stopping you," you said, as you sat down, joining the circle that the other people had already started to form. coby ushered jann to the opposite side of the circle, likely to raise the chances of your spin landing on him. you weren't sure of that at the time, though. looking back, you should've known why he did that, but the alcohol clouded your better judgement.

coby placed an empty glass bottle in the middle of the circle with a cunning grin. he sat back down next to jann, before asking the question, "who's spinning first?" audrey volunteered, willingly so. it landed on someone neither you nor jann knew; one of coby's friends, presumably. the two entered the small closet at the back of the room, before coby started the seven minute timer.

not much could be heard, which was climactic. everyone was chit-chatting. some were talking about who they hoped the bottle landed on, others were talking about what they thought audrey and the guy were actually doing. then, the timer rang startlingly. coby walked by the closet door and knocked.

"hey lovers, your times up!" he shouted, laughing. a few moments after, audrey slowly opened the door, hair tousled around a bit. her lipstick was slightly smeared, and she wore a giddy smile. context clues were enough for everyone to start teasing the two as they entered the main room. audrey sat back down next to you, and you smirked suggestively.

"well then, looks like you had fun," you said, frivolously. audrey scoffed and elbowed you in a playful manner, but she couldn't fight the growing smile on her face.

"maybe..." she answered, with an eye roll.

"well, i think we all know what happened there," coby began. "so...who's next?" for a minute, nobody volunteered.

"i guess i am," you said, with a slight shrug. jann's head perked up, his eyes meeting yours. neither of you dared to look away, so you shot him a soft smile. he returned the gesture, a bit of color returning to his cheeks before he got kicked out of his trance by coby, who was wiggling his brows up and down obnoxiously.

you placed your hand on the bottle, before giving it a forceful spin. the moments of waiting were pure agony, as you kept your eyes on the bottle which was spinning around tauntingly. it started to slow, and finally came to a halt. your eyes trailed up to who it landed on, and sure enough, it was jann. his eyes widened, as he blinked a few times. he wasn't sure whether or not he was seeing things.

coby and the rest of the group started hyping jann up, and even audrey threw you a quick thumbs up with an eye brow raise. so, you stood, feet planted on the ground. jann followed suit, before you both walked into the closet. you clicked on the light bulb, and he shut the door behind him.

"your seven minutes starts now!" coby announced. suddenly, the closet felt so stuffy with the air that reeked of awkwardness. you made yourself comfortable, trying to find some words to say to him. in reality, this game could be quite unpleasant if you didn't want to do anything with the other person.

"i-uh, sorry...i've never played this before and..." he stammered, swallowing nervously.

"you've never played seven minutes in heaven before?" you asked, smiling softly.

"yeah uh-no. no i haven't," he replied, before laughing softly and looking down at his hands.

"it's alright, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to," you said, placing a hand on his knee, trying to make him feel more comfortable. he looked at your hand, then up to you. was this a dream? was he dreaming? if so, he'd rather die than wake up. "or...we could have some fun."

"what do you mean?" he asked, interest piqued. you tittered, and tapped your index finger against his leg.

"i think you know, jann," you replied, smiling. "just tell me what you want." he thought about it for a moment, as he collected his composure. there were many things he wanted. he wanted for you to touch him more, get impossibly closer to him--even kiss him...hell, he wanted a billion dollars. and he was good under pressure, he didn't let it crack him completely just yet.

"i want..." he had to force the words out, feeling as though it were almost embarrassing to seem so desperate. "i want you to...kiss...me." he sounded sure of it, but nervous as well. you hummed softly in approval. you had to applaud him, you didn't think he'd ever say it. but now that he did, you swiftly climbed over his lap, straddling him, wasting no time. you steadied yourself by placing one hand at his shoulder and one at his hip.

"is this okay?" you asked, wanting to check with him before you took things any further. he nodded eagerly, and you laughed. you cupped his cheeks, before leaning in, admiring him. his face became a crimson, as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips. you finally closed the gap, and captured him in a kiss. he sighed into it, melting into you.

your touch, the way you handled him with care was all too much for him. his head was reeling, and all you had done was kiss him. when you pulled away, he smiled gingerly.

"you're a good kisser," he said, with a small laugh, as his gaze averted.

"likewise." his grin widened. you leaned back in, as did he. you kissed him once again, but with a sort of fervor this time around. jann felt cloudy, like it was heaven. he'd finally understood the name of the game. when you pulled away for the second time, he had to resist the urge to pout. his mood was quickly lifted once again, though, when you started trailing soft kisses down his jaw and to his neck.

"let me know if you want me to stop," you mumbled against his soft skin. he nodded, but he had no intentions of doing so. you continued, starting to bite softly, only to test the waters. his breath stuttered, and his left hand found its way to your hip, as a way to ground himself. you left light pink hickeys down his neck. something he would possibly be forced to talk about with his parents, but he couldn't care less in that moment.

after you felt satisfied, you went back up for another kiss on the lips. he met you halfway, and he hummed into it, feeling a wave of bliss wash over him. he would have to thank his brother when they got home, because never in a million years would this had happened without him. and just when nothing could get in the way--something did, indeed, get in the way.

the timer beeped glaringly from outside the closet. jann groaned softly, unhappy to hear it. you chuckled, and lifted yourself off of him. you could hear coby striding towards the door, before knocking.

"times up, to your demise!" he said, with a shared laugh of everyone outside. you opened the door, with a small complacent smirk. jann stood behind you, and since he was so tall everyone had a clear view of what you had left on his neck.

who knew seven minutes in heaven could be such a fun game? maybe it was only fun because it was with jann, though.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

#dom!reader #dom reader #lime #seven minutes in heaven #spin the bottle #party #jann mardenborough #archie madekwe #gran turismo #jann x reader #jann mardenborough x reader

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revindicatedbyhistory · 2 months

Text

kinda obligatory disclaimer i dont even really like maduro (the guy is barely left wing and he´s admittedly an "authoritarian" even if i dont like the word. this authoritarianism is probably somewhat more nuanced than the gov just doing it cause they are evil but like. some protesters have legit concerns!). that said i am kinda holding off on sharing any stuff on venezuela because im worried about the potential Consequences on public opinion. like while current conditions in venezuela are obviously not great, historically foreign intervention tends to make situations like this worse, and i am worried all these carrds ig infographics may feed a support for the idea

like that´s what bothers me about everytime we get one of these situations going, i don´t know if the people who share all this stuff really think about the potential consequences in public opinion, they just share appeals to emotion and thought terminating cliches about listening to venezuelan voices

also like, let´s be real ok? let´s be honest with ourselves. the only reason the situation gets as much attention as it does it´s because it´s part of an useful narrative for certain people in power. the current president of peru is a woman who no one voted for but no one outside peru cares because it´s not useful to them. all these western politicians pretending to give a shit about democracy and human rights are cynics

anyways i do sympathise with how it´s not easy to have a functioning country with all the sanctions but like. cuba has had all these sanctions but even worse (considering it´s a tiny island while venezuela is very resource rich) for triple the ammount of time and they´ve had more achievements in the matter of welfare for it´s citizens and socialising the means of production

i do think there´s some interesting stuff wrt socialism in venezuela, but not really from the psuv as it´s currently ran. i think the communes movement is interesting but idk how theyd fare under a machado goverment

so i guess my position is wanting to guarantee the independence of venezuela while giving the gov the bare minimum of support while hoping some alternative movement can achieve some more profound social change

(inb4 someone sends me asks with appeals to emotion instead of arguments: im a communist)

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serxinns · 8 months

Text

Scarlet witch Reader x Yandere Mha: I HATE YOU

My 1st angst HEHEHEHHEHE

Context: You and h/n were getting along so well a little too well aizawa gets jealous and reader snaps

H/n: Hero name

S/n: student name

(Disclaimer this took place in season 1)

"Good Job y/n! You beat another villain down without me or s/n's help" H/N gave you a big smile while ruffling your hair ever since h/n became your mentor you and them got along pretty well they showed you moved and how to properly use you quirk safely heck you were getting praises from your classmates wishing they would show you those moves

You saw h/n as a parent figure as well as another side of Aizawa and Mic but h/n was your go-to whenever you wanted to talk unlike Aizawa and Mic they didn't baby you, coo you, or cuddle you to try and make it better they listened of my rants and agreed with you and whenever you did something wrong you weren't treated like some fragile being h/n told you to get up and do it again you wished to be like h/n one day you made sure of it

While the 3 of you were talking there was a Aizawa glaring at h/n from afar what are they doing with YOU he thought you should've been with him a while ago and grabbed his scarf getting ready

You were so busy talking with your mentor and others you didn't know that a scarf was coming your way and wrapped you around "What the?!?" you struggled trying to break free but it was no use "Sorry but it was past their curfew" Aizawa said in a monotone voice "Uh it's fine but you don't have to-" "You don't get to tell me what I should or shouldn't do" Aizawa cut off h/n glaring at them with red glowing eyes he said nothing and walked off with you protesting to put you down

When you arrived at your house you dropped to your bed in your bedroom but you pissed "What the heck was that for?!?!, h/n was just talking about our victory on the battle" you said glaring at your teacher without any care in the world

Aizawa: "they knew what they did"

Reader: "What the hell do you mean by that they were just ruffling my hair telling me I did a good job!!"

Aizawa: "They were manipulating you h/n you cant trust people easily"

Reader: MALNIPULATING?! ARE YOU HEARING YOURSELF RIGHT NOW

Aizawa: DONT give me that tone child

Reader: NO CAUSE IM TRIED IM SO TRIED OF YOU BEING SO PROTECTIVE OVER ME YOU DO THIS EVERYTIME LET ME HAVE MY FREEDOM FOR ONCE WITHOUT BEING CODDLE OUT 24/7

Aizawa: Y/N THATS ENOUGH you will not speak to me that way again

Reader: Mumbles a fuck you

Aizawa: what was that child I didn't hear it good enough

Reader: Still mumbles

Aizawa: say.it.before.i.ground.you

Reader: FUCK YOU YOU YOU-BITCH

Aizawa:...alright then you will not see h/n anymore then since im such a bitch

Reader: WHAT?!? YOU CANT DO IT

Aizawa: I can and I will starting tomorrow you will not talk, be near or even SEE h/n ever

That was when you finally snapped

Reader: I HATE YOU

You angerly pushed Aizawa out your room aizawa didn't even protest he didn't even argue back he was just stunned, shocked and heart broken he never wouldn't thought that you out of all people to say that he just thought will maybe it's just teenager behavior and everything will get back to normal

Wrong

The next day with your head hanging and dull eyes you sat down in silence the class was mixed with confusion and worry some tried to cheer you up Kiri ranting about how manly you are momo trying to buy you new expensive gifts Iida was beginning to be less strict then you even bakugo was a concern but no matter how much they tried it wouldn't work whenever somebody hosted a sleepover in your class you never denied their sleepovers

Now there's something wrong

Whenever your classmates were tried to get you to tell them what's wrong you started getting real aggressive with them even telling them to fuck off so they gave you some space for now..

Aizawa paid attention to your behavior and he was getting a little worried about you was it too far was I harsh on them is it just a teenage phrase thoughts and questions were circling around his head making his headaches

When he got home Mic threw a pillow at him "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU SHOUTA" mics loud voice blasted into aizawas ears making his headache worse "Ugh..hizashi can u not I have head-" FUCK YOUR HEADSCHE WHAT DID YOU DO TO Y/N THEY LOCKED THEMSELVES INTO THEIR ROOM WHAT DID YOU DO AIZAWA" mic was now getting in his normal voice demanding answers into why their child is so upset

"All I did was told them h/n wasn't gonna be their mentor they were being disrespectful" But Mic wasn't having that he pitched the bridges oh his nose and sighed "So you thought it was a suitable punishment you know what-" he grabbed Aizawa by his collar dragging him upstairs to your room "you better apologize to y/n and make it right or is sleeping on the couch for you for 4 weeks" he walked back downstairs leaving the 2 of you alone

Aizawa was hesitant but knocked on the door "LEAVE ME ALONE" he heard you raised his voice he heard ur voice crack and was horde it seemed like you were crying for a long time "Y/n-" "DONT I DONT WANNA HEAR YOUR APOLOGY" you cut him off harshly but it didn't matter to him he just wanted to see if you were ok

"Listen y/n please just hear me out I promise it'll be worth so please open the door" they were silent at the end a few second as he heard you slowly open the door

"What do you want..." you soaked your whole pillows with tears snot and more tears "Listen y/n im sorry I really am I was just convincing myself that h/n was doing something suspicious" "U NEVER CHECKED WITH THE OTHERS SO HOW COME IT ALWAYS ME" you shouted while putting your head back in the pillow "Listen im sorry im truly am the reason enacted like that was because I thought they were gonna hurt you and I didn't want them to hurt one of my ki- students yes I can admit I was being a bit overbearing and a bit of a ass but I will do better u can be with h/n back so do you forgive me " you sniffed and lookup at him and thought for a moment

"I may not will accept your apology now but when I see development I will"

#yandere bnha #tw yandere #yandere ua #tw gaslighting #tw obsessive behavior #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #yandere dad #yandere oneshot #yandere aizawa

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official212th · 18 days

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ok so i just finished this book the eighth arrow and god knows nobody reads any of my posts so im just gonna put some thoughts here.

first of all: this book is so so so good yet such a fucking trip to read because it is written by a priest. and 90% of the time its a great take on greek legends and mythos and also has some truly ridiculous homoerotic subtext. but then every couple chapters you get a remind that wow. this was written by a priest. spoiler warning but odysseus legit converts to christianity at the end which is actually hilarious. and ok, the priest who wrote it works at a catholic school that is actually in the same city as i am and i will say i appreciated how he very clearly planned to use this book in either theology or english classes, because it was absolutely 100% a metaphor for redemption in catholicism and the idea of mercy and forgiveness. guys i know what im talking about i also go to catholic school. but the way he frames it as a story that's ostensibly not about christianity, but he sneaks in a few metaphors and buzzwords (the disclaimer at the beginning, in which odysseus says he actually made the whole story up, talks about how he was "judged worthy" and "redeemed" and talks about God's grace and providence. which is pretty standard fare for your average high school theology class.) specific to christianity and even catholicism (some of the beliefs regarding redemption in here are pretty unique to catholicism and i don't think some protestants would like this book very much)

second of all did i mention the homoerotic subtext? because wow. honestly it wasn't even subtext it was just text. the whole book is about odysseus and diomedes and their journey through dante's inferno. but it starts off talking about how the two of them are "imprisoned in a single flame" for 3,000 years (ok buddy not sounding too straight to me) and they kind of have a friends to enemies to friends thing happen but like the whole reason they become enemies is odysseus doesn't realize or acknowledge diomedes' love for him??? (GAY)

im going to back myself up with sources. proteus (weird old guy that's there like half the time) says to odysseus "that man really loves you. He loves you more than he loves his own father. More than he's ever loved anyone, I suspect. And that is a sacred thing, a love like that" and does the priest writing it maybe mean it in the way that God loves us? maybe but thats not how i'm interpreting it! anyways i really liked how (spoiler warning again although if you're avoiding spoilers for this book idk how you got this far) odysseus and diomedes are bffs but also fight. like really bad. like almost-killed-each-other bad. and then they have a really nice moment in which diomedes almost dies and odysseus is like "wait i love u youre my family pls dont die" and then they team up and save the day. its so sick. i love gay people.

#the eighth arrow #odysseus #diomedes #greek mythology #i dont actually think this is mythology i think this is just lore lol whatevs

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vee-beeee · 3 months

Text

In The Wind

HELLO

I am back! With a Connor and Nines fic! Yahoo!

This is going to be a series, so strap in ladies and gentlemen and get excited because im actually setting up a schedule to post for this!

I will post every monday, until the end of the story :D i wanted to get more consistent and now with more free time, i can do this!

Alright, lets get into the story.

You were an artist/writer living in Detroit and working as a graphic designer. One day, out for a walk with your best pup Cosmo, you run into an android. Or two. Your life is suddenly a lot more interesting, and for some reason the androids are at the center or it.

!Disclaimer! This will be a long one, so be prepared! It will include violence (not from our good boys) and some good old loving.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, violence, hank appreciation, sumo is best boy, hurt feelings, protective androids

Enjoy the story and more parts to come!

Connor and Nines x (Fem pronouns)reader

=================>

Your life had truly changed.

In the beginning, everything was pretty simple. You stayed in your apartment, did some work, went out and got grocery's, looked in alarm at the anti-android activists pushing some poor soul to the ground, and taking Cosmo for a walk!

Very simple.

Then the revolution happened. And everything you had known went out the window.

Androids came out as a race of people, and demanded rights. There were riots in the streets. You holed up in your home, watching with bated breath as the androids protested peacefully in the streets. Eventually, the two apparent leaders kissed each other and declared their feelings to the entire world. It made you sob like a baby.

This worked to stop the war, and Androids were granted certain freedoms.

But one thing hadn't changed.

The riots.

All day every day, riots from both sides would block streets. You just wanted to go to your favorite paint store and people were demanding androids be decommissioned.

On this certain day, you were out with your golden retriever Cosmo. She was the best girl, and kept you company on your lonely rainy days. You had one human best friend, but she lived all the way in Seattle. You both would call almost religiously everyday, but this had turned you into a but homebody.

You were walking in the park of Detroit, a cloudy fall day blowing gusts of cold air into your hair, whipping it into your cheek. And getting stuck in your lipstick. Great.

You were busy brushing your hair out of your face when you heard a man yelling.

You immediately stopped and looked around your face covered in hair, trying to tell where the sound was coming from. It sounded different from usual yell of protesters, and you were in a secluded area of the park you were at, meaning there weren't to many people.

Getting scared because of being surrounding by trees and unable to see your surroundings fully, you pulled out your pepper spray and grabbed on tight to Cosmos leash.

The bushes rustled, and you jumped in the direction, holding your pepper spray out and turning and closing your eyes.

You stood for a few seconds, waiting to hear the yelp of a man or something, but got no such sound.

But you heard sniffing.

Opening your eyes and looking down in confusion, you saw a huge dog sniffing Cosmos nose. The dogs snorted in happiness, and Cosmo returned the kindness by licking his ear. You saw their tails wagging, and awed in cuteness, before also noticing the big dog had a loose leash laying on the ground. You gently kneeled down to pick it up, but the dog immediately noticed.

He then pounced.

Landing on top of you, the huge Bernard send you backwards into the grass. You tensed up, but you were met with lots of kisses from the dog. You opened your eyes and giggled, dropping the pepper spray and petting the good boy. You had Cosmos leash wrapped around your wrist, and the golden came up to start licking your arm to join the fun.

You laughed in joy, loving the attention, before hearing the yelling come closer. You stopped petting the big pup and glanced around. The dog licked your arm, continuing to give you kisses, acting unconcerned at the shouts.

"SUMO" a faint voice cried, making you realize you forgot to check the dogs collar. You huffed and shuffled around the leashes to reach under the dogs scruff to see his name tag. You read the name and message under your breath

'Sumo'

'Hey dumbass, give me my dog back'

Below it, a phone number.

You chuckled at the message, before hearing another cry of the dogs name. You realized his owner might be looking for him, and decided to help out.

"Over here!" You called, realizing you were still sitting on the ground. But alas, you remembered to late, and the bushes pushed apart, revealing the literal most handsome man you had ever seen.

Your breath stopped as you stared at the mans sharp jaw and nose, before moving down to his pink lips. Your eyes darted up to his eyes, and you gasped as you saw the honey brown circles staring into yours.

He stopped momentarily, inspecting your position before hurrying over to you and the dogs. He started rambling, grabbing the dogs leash and holding his other hand out to you.

"I'm so sorry ma'am, he didn't hurt you did he?"

You stared at the guy in shock, before taking his hand quickly and standing up. You noticed he had a nice build, standing above you at a pleasant height. You stared a little longer than you should have, before clearing your throat to answer him in a small voice. You brushed your hair out of your face to make it look presentable and said simply

"No No he didn't hurt me. He actually gave me a lot of kisses."

You chuckled and rubbed your arms, eyes going wide as you felt the dog spit all over it.

Imagine how your face looked.

The man nodded, before holding his hand out stiffly. You stared at it in confusion, before realizing he was probably trying to shake hands. You dumbly wiped your palm on your patterned flower jeans and gently shook his surprisingly cold hand.

"My name is Connor, I'm.." He stopped himself, gulping before continuing "its nice to meet you miss..?" He tilted his head, smiling softly at your flustered expression.

"Miss Y/n" You said, using your first name. Connor nodded and grinned again, before you both seemingly started staring at one another, gently holding hands.

A rustle broke out from the bushes, and you jumped, dropping Connors hand, briefly seeing a sad look overcome his features.

But you were more concerned with the identical twin of him that just emerged almost silently from the trees.

"Hello" The twin said smoothly, giving you a once over, piercing you with ocean eyes.

"I see you found the animal" He nodded to Connor, who was holding a leash and looking in surprise. You looked back and forth between the two as they silently stared at each other. It was almost like they were reading each others thoughts. Could twins do that?

You wouldn't know, being an only child and all.

"The 'animal' has a name Nines" Connor responded, before turning back to you.

What kind of name was nines you wondered? That sounds like a name and androi....

Ohhhhhh

You looked between Connor and this new guy, noticing their almost perfect complexations. Connor had a beanie on, and it had shifted, confirming your suspicions.

He had an LED.

You looked away it shock, a little frightened how you didn't notice at first. Not because they were made so well, but because of how handsome both of them were.

Glancing up you noticed Connor glaring at his twin, shooting him a dirty look.

The taller android rolled his eyes before walking up to you and holding out a hand, somehow even more stiffly than Connor had done.

"I'm Nines, the newest Rk unit." He grinned slyly, before shaking your hand. His smug expression turned into a grimace when he felt slobber on your fingers, and you stood in shock as he took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his hands.

You felt slightly offended.

You brushed it off, your hands were pretty dirty with dog spit.

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you." You nodded, smiling. You felt a tug on the leash you were holding and you looked down, seeing Cosmo and Sumo playing with each other. You giggled and watched them, before feeling eyes on you. Peering up, you noticed both android looking at you with odd expressions.

Oh well.

Connor caught your attention and smiled "What's your dogs name?" He asked softly, making you swoon.

You tried not to get carried away. He was a perfect handsome android who probably was just being nice and had a pretty android girlfriend. You cleared your throat, before putting on your best smile and responding.

"This is Cosmo, she's 3" You laughed as Cosmo put Sumo's ear in her mouth and paw at his face. Connor looked down and chuckled softly with you, but you noticed a very unimpressed harrumph come from next to you.

You glanced at the other android, and noticed him rolling his eyes at the dogs antics. He cleared his throat and you and Connor stared at him.

"As 'cute' as this was, we should get going." he said, giving you one more onceover, before turning his heel and leaving the little clearing.

You tilted your head at where he had gone, before turning to see a depressed looking Connor. The android started after his twin, before turning and winking at you.

"I sent you my contact information!" He yelled, before jogging up to Nines, Sumo barking after him. You stood in shock, the ordeal ending so quickly.

Pulling out your phone, you looked and saw that a new contact had been made, named Connor with a smiley face. A text had been sent to you, and reading it made you smile.

"Puppy play date soon! Nice to meet you :)"

You tucked your phone away, before continuing on your walk.

Not knowing that one moment would change your entire life.

To be continued....

================<

Hope you enjoyed! This was more of a meet cute, but it will pick up in the next chapters to come.

As always, thanks for reading!

#dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #dbh rk800 #detroit become human #dbh nines #dbh rk900 #dbh nines x reader

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