#maybe the floors don't get bloody but it still gets called back to or something idk

[ifievertoldyou]

this is so fucking random but recently i've been thinking about a potential callback to the walnut being too porous thing, since the teleportation rune they had set up will take them to the very same place where that phrase originated all those weeks ago..

[always-just-red]

I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you’ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.  

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

[stars-for-circe]

Bones and All - Part 1

Part 1, Part 2 - wip

Tags / cw: Cannibal!reader x Vampire!Ellie, reader is a psychopath, Ellie is over 100 but physically 23, reader is around 27-30, reader is sophisticated/classy, gore, blood, suggestive, dark themes - read at your discretion, murders, drugging, cannibalism, reader is rich

On Monday, you were reckless. Starved. It had been three days since you had last feasted. And even now, after catching a meal, it was only a leg. The poor victim crawling away in agony as you dined on his limbs. And when he dared to pause his escape, to look back at the sight of you tearing through flesh with your teeth - your white cocktail dress now wine red, drenched with his life - he screamed.

"Y-you fucking monster!" He was dry heaving at this point, saliva and snot and tears dripping out as his body tried to keep itself alive.

You merely turned to look at him, and grinned - bearing your red teeth.

"And what did your wife call you? When you hit her? When you killed her?"

He whimpered in realisation. This, this wasn't some random attack. This was planned, methodical. This was karma. Whatever god that ruled above had breathed a purpose into you, as a vessel of retribution. You simply took back what your victims stole. A life for a life.

"Darling, don't act so righteous. You and I? We are no different." You were almost patronising, void of any empathy, any remorse.

He promptly passed out. Either from the blood loss or the shock - or both, you considered - it made cleaning up easier when the mess wasn't screaming for help. Unfortunately, the pill you slipped into his glass didn't work for long. You realised as such when you noticed his brows scrunch as you dragged him out of your car and into the forest. God, there was so much blood. Painting the forest floor, the fallen Winter leaves now reflecting the colour of Autumn. It was nauseating.

And usually, you were meticulous. In choosing your victims (who were always as evil as you, in their crimes, their abuses), in luring them out of hiding, in drugging them until you killed. You made sure to be inviting, enticing, making them eager to have dinner at your manor, or drinks at a quiet bar.

Of course, dining at home was easier for you to slip something in their food, but most bars were dark enough for a dissolving pill to go unnoticed. And sometimes you enjoyed going out - the thrill of possibly getting caught, the clouded eyes of your victims thinking you were taking them to bed. Well, you did, but it was to their deathbed, rather.

You would undress them, bathe them, even talk to them. Because who knows? Maybe they could still hear you in their dreams, amidst all the drugs in their system. Then, in a bathtub filled halfway with warm water, you would slit their throat. And you would let them drain until there wasn't any blood left. Because unlike your other, more famous peers, you hated blood. Its metallic taste on your tongue oh-so unpleasant, when you'd rather savour the other delicacies in humans.

But this time, you had no choice. The son of a bitch woke up halfway home. You had to take a detour into the forestry surrounding the manor. You had to eat. You couldn't wait any longer. That sense of panicked urgency now overtaking your ravenous hunger. And as the drugs wore off, he was thankfully still weak enough to drag outside, and leave laying against a tree. But as the drugs wore off, he screamed and begged for his life when the glint of your knife shone under the moonlight.

You just begged for some peace and quiet while having dinner. But, some dreams would only remain dreams. And he would remain screaming as the knife sunk in.

So that night, you ate. A disgusting, bloody meal. But a meal nonetheless. It tasted horrible, but it would last you another few days - it was enough for now. The creatures of the forest would eat the rest.

On Monday, Ellie smelled the blood. It was fresh.

On Tuesday, Ellie found the source. 7 miles away, in some forest in the middle of nowhere. Wolves, surrounding a carcass of what was once a man, now just fertiliser. The leaves, damp from early morning fog, squelched under her feet as she got closer. And vampires, being at the top of the food chain, bowed to no-one. The wolves ran away at the sight of her.

"Holy shit..."

It was missing a fucking leg. A clean cut - the wolves weren't this clean in hunting. And it couldn't be because of the wolves - they never attacked people. This was a body, left in the forest, missing a fucking leg - and Ellie didn't know why.

For a moment, she suspected another vampire in her territory. This was in the outskirts after all, maybe they didn't recognise her markings. But vampires didn't do this. They were discrete - which was part of the reason why it was so difficult to hunt in this era, with the amount of fucking CCTV everywhere. Ellie herself hadn't eaten in weeks. This? This was a fucking mess. There were clothes thrown everywhere, the body was still identifiable, and the smell reached miles on every side.

But most importantly, there was blood. So much blood. And Ellie was a vampire, for fucks sake. Another vampire wouldn't kill for no reason - and this looked like the blood was avoided on purpose. Her mouth watered. Fuck, it was unintentional - this was so gruesome she could have thrown up at the sight. But the coat of fresh blood spread everywhere made her wish the body was still alive - still warm.

So Ellie was confused. And honestly? She was really fucking spooked, too. This forest was quiet - eerie even. There were no birds singing, no crickets chirping, even though they should have been wide awake. It screamed of danger, even to her. Vampires were predators, but for some reason, Ellie felt like prey. Her leg started twitching, begging her to run out of this place, lest it be next.

So she got out of there as fast as she could, in whatever direction was in front of her. The fog, still cold and damp, blanketed both the forest floor and herself, and Ellie couldn’t tell if it was the temperature or nervous that send the chill down her spine - but she ran. And after an hour, spent narrowly missing hidden branches and rocks (No, she didn't trip), she found a break in the clearing. Thank god.

Wait, was that a manor?

…

She ran the wrong way.

"Son of a-"

"Fuck these fucking forests and their fucking trees and their fucking rocks and houses-" She kicked a nearby tree, breaking the trunk in half. Then a rock, then the dirt. The volume of her yelling caused the birds to fly out of the trees. She glared at them, and then ran back to the proper way out. Fuck the blood for smelling so enticing.

On Tuesday, You heard commotion in the clearing near your house. But no human dared to come near, so you blamed it on the wild animals.

On Wednesday, You built an appetite. But so did Ellie. And this time, you were prepared.

On your bedside table sat a sugar bowl, a vintage style of ornate - only the sweets worthy enough deserved to be held within. It was rather beautiful, as the early morning sun gently reflected off the edge of it. It garnered your attention, as you slowly woke up. And slowly, as you leaned against the headboard of your bed, and reached over to sit it on your lap, your mouth watered at the promise of the treats inside. Today was the day.

You took the little gold lid off, eyeing the candy inside. Each piece wrapped in a different type of paper than the last. You licked your lips tentatively - what would you fancy today? Gooseberry? No, you had that one two days ago. How about Grapefruit instead? A tough choice to make, given the amount of flavours to choose from. Gently, your fingers circled the rim of the bowl, tracing the intricacies drawn onto the china, before you dipped your hand into the bowl and pulled a piece out at random.

The pastel green wrapper crinkled as you unwrapped it, before popping the candy in your mouth and closing your eyes as you savoured its taste. Green apple - an old favourite of yours. Though, it had definitely been a while since you last had that one in particular, because they were always the hardest to catch. Hidden in the ridges and bumps of the bowl, seen rarely, and chosen even lesser. Hm, you had your work set out for you tomorrow.

You clenched your fist in contemplation, and felt a poke from the crinkled wrapper still in your hands. You almost forgot. And at your favourite part nonetheless! You sat your self up, now cross legged on the bed as you unfolded the wrapper in anticipation. It was silent for a moment, as you raised a brow, absorbing the information in front of you.

Oh?

Written, in small font, was her information. Her age, her name, her crime. A lovely choice. And it was ironic, that out of all the ways she would be punished for it, you were her executioner. How cyclical, you thought. But never mind that, for she was just another victim to get rid of - nothing more, nothing less. You bit down on the candy, breaking it inside your mouth. It’s sour taste clouding your senses as you contemplated your methods. And yet, it would be a shame not to have fun with this one, after all, it wasn't often you feasted on one of her kind.

'Ellie Williams, 23, vampire.'

A dinner party at your manor would suffice, to lure her into your clutches, and to celebrate your forthcoming victory.

On Wednesday, Ellie was reckless. Starved. 3 weeks since she had last fed - and she was ready to do anything for another taste.

Taglist: @bready101 @elliewilliamsblunt @aouiaa @strangehuman101 @lov3lylotus @wishbones999 @seraphicsentences @les4elliewilliams @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 6

2.7k | angst No matter how loyal, guard dogs still have their teeth (part 1) (part 7)

Simon’s steps to your door were heavy, as his heart had been since that call.

Despite his blazing wrath, he was unprepared for the waves of guilt that washed over, the shame that wrestled to drown him. He was unable to protect you from his past – he brought it upon you, even after how much too sweet you’d been, how softly you’d touched him. How could he ever look you in the eye again?

The stray never deserved any of that.

When you gave him a squeeze at the door, he didn’t return it. Still, you tugged him in with the same lovely smile, even when it wasn’t as wide.

“Fancy a cuppa?”

“No.”

Your pretty hand shouldn’t be in his filthy one. Do you even know what I do with these hands?

You sat at the dining table and Simon remained on his feet to your side, eyes fixed on the cup of pu erh before you. His fists clenched and released. You didn’t like pu erh.

At the end of the day, he was still a reaper in dress uniform - one with an unrelenting demon that lurked in the far corner. He could have fucked him up that evening at the bakery. Feel his nose crumble against his knuckles, maybe even the snap of his scrawny neck in his hands.

But no, this happened because he didn't. Like his mum said, you were good for him, of course you were. But was he for you? He was nothing but trouble.

You smiled up at him. Always so sincere, so delicate, making his stomach twist more.

“My dad’s visiting this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to meet him? And… Um, what I should introduce you-“

Not addicted, he'd tell himself too many times, as if it didn’t sound like a bloody lie to his own ears. You were the beginning of an incurable addiction, a cliff with the bewitching view he was a step away from falling off of.

His gaze left you. “I’m going back home with my mum tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you said, your disappointment evident. “Okay, maybe next time then.”

His heart pounded in his ears as he forced the words out, nails digging into his palms. “We should stop this.”

“What… What are you saying, Simon?”

“This. Meeting you, staying over. I’ll have less time when I become captain. This isn’t going to end well,” he reasoned, but it sounded more like he was convincing himself this was the right thing.

He knew it was, even when it didn’t feel like it, like a lot of things in life. He knew one day he’d be glad he did this. One day, even when right then it felt like the worst thing he could be doing. Would someone, something, rip this decision away from his hands?

“You don't get to say that yet, not right now. I know you're going through a lot.” You reached for his hand. “But we can wait until things settle and we’ll talk-“

He pulled away from your touch. “I've made up my mind. I never meant for things to get this far.”

In the still room, his stare remained on the cup you hadn’t touched since his arrival.

“You knew this all along and you still let it happen,” you said as realisation dawned.

He looked up to meet your hardened gaze. He’d seen you sad, annoyed, angry, but this was the first time your eyes were devoid of warmth. Being the receiving end of that stare was a stab to his chest.

“I should believe people when they show me who they are.” You chuckled humourlessly. “Get out, Simon.”

The world slowed. It was hard to draw his breath as he remained unmoving, like he was chained to the floor of where his sanctuary once was. Despite the arms that ached to wrap around you and never let go, he forced himself to walk away as his blood ran cold.

The door slammed behind him. He didn’t expect a positive response, of course, but it was definitely not the shatter of his own heart.

Still, it didn’t hurt as much as it would have had he waited until you inevitably left him for one reason or another. At least he’d never have to worry about being like his dad, about hurting you, betraying you, if you weren’t there to begin with. Like he’d always known, you deserved better, someone as lovely as you – unlike this stray who would never be enough.

It’s the right thing.

He could give his mum his undivided attention now. She would never leave nor kick him out the door. If he was not wanted, he had to be endlessly needed, used dry until he was nothing but a ghost.

“Who the fuck broke my bloody door!”

Simon and his mum had been waiting for his dad’s return to the house that had turned into a complete mess. Meanwhile, she’d packed as much of her belongings as she could, her luggage in the living room.

“Sign the bloody papers before I make sure you never can anymore,” Simon barked, standing tall next to his sitting mum.

His dad rounded the corner and Simon’s jaw ticked thinking of what he did to you. He let out a weak sigh at the sight of his wife and son at the dining table, a sight he hadn’t seen in over a decade. His eyes softened.

“I don’t want anything from you, James. Please sign them and we’ll be out of here.”

He pulled out the chair across the table and propped his elbows up, face in his hands as he took a deep breath.

“I need to apologise, Melanie,” he began. “I’ve made your life hell, and I know there’s nothing I can do to change that now. I was my fault.”

“She didn’t ask,” Simon said through gritted teeth. He shoved the papers closer when he ached to break the filthy table with his dad’s skull.

“I’m sorry about your last night here. It was unforgiveable, what I did.”

Simon slammed his fist onto the table. He had watched the grand performance too many times. “You’re not fooling anybody with your tricks. Sign the bloody papers. I swear this is the last time I’m asking.”

His mum patted his hand, and he reluctantly took the seat next to her.

“I want you to have the house, Mel. You’ve always kept it too beautiful for a man like me. It’s the least I can give you after everything.” He let out a steady breath, flipping open the document. “I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for how much I’ve hurt you,” he added quietly.

Was that remorse that settled in his hollow eyes?

His mum bit her lip as a tear slipped. When Simon wrapped an arm around her, she sobbed into his chest.

No words were exchanged as his dad went through the papers, and it remained so until Simon wheeled his mum’s luggage out the door behind her.

“Goodbye, James.” She didn’t spare him another look.

“Simon?” he called in a small voice. “I’m sorry I’m not the father you deserve.”

The lieutenant threw the door shut.

Simon spent the next few days with his mum, Tommy, his wife and son. Since his last visit, Tommy’s got a new job and seemed to be spoiling his son rotten with plenty of new toys, including the shiny red bike outside. Unfortunately, even after over a year, he and Beth still hadn’t had much luck trying for a second child.

Joseph was a brilliant kid with a toothy smile, just like Tommy was, and it always surprised Simon how big his nephew got between each visit. It was a shame he only got to meet his family twice or thrice each year.

“Joe, you’ve been sitting on your uncle’s shoulders all day,” Beth said with an amused smile. “Give him a break.”

“It’s the best seat ever!” His little arms wrapped tighter around Simon’s head, eyes glued onto the cartoon on the telly.

“You need to do your homework.”

“I’ll do it here.” He poked the top of Simon’s head.

He laughed. “I don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “Come on now. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You don’t want to be late.”

“Okay…” he huffed before dragging his feet to his room.

While he flicked through the channels,  Beth went back to the kitchen where his mum was. He wasn’t one to watch the telly apart from football, but his thumb hovered over the button when the Great British Bake Off came on.

He remembered the episode. He’d watched it with you, the only person he ever watched the show with. It was yours, like a secret only the both of you knew.

It’s the right thing.

Faintly, his mum chuckled at something her daughter-in-law said, and his mind couldn’t help but drift to all the times it was you and her in his flat instead. Sharing stories, laughing, while he smiled at the sight from afar.

It’s the right thing, Riley, I promise.

He turned the telly off and went for a walk instead.

At dinner, the table admired little Joe’s drawings he’d done at school – he always saved them for when his daddy came home. With his precious family beaming, it seemed like the life Simon should have had, the one he always imagined was supposed to be like. But even without the devil trailing behind like an ellipsis, this, somehow, didn’t feel right either.

Despite his smile, his chest was heavy with the rotting carcass of the heart he didn't know he still had until weeks ago.

It’s the right thing, it’s the right thing, it’s the right thing.

Later that night, Simon’s head tilted when he entered the guestroom his mum occupied.

“Have you not packed yet? We’re leaving tomorrow. I’ve still got training on Monday.”

On the bed, she lowered her book and frowned. “I’m not leaving. Manchester is my home, Si.”

“Home is where you’re safe, mum, and you’re not here.”

She sighed, the sympathetic kind, before putting her book away. “My well-being and happiness aren’t your responsibility.”

He scoffed. “‘course they are.”

“I can’t thank you enough for thinking about me, but what’s happened, happened. I’m trying to start over, and that includes not being a baggage to you.”

He blinked. “Mum, what are you on about?” he asked carefully as he sat next to her.

“You need to live your life. You push good things away, Si.”

What… “I don’t. You’re all I’ve got.”

“Always so stubborn.” She shook her head. “Don’t make the same mistake I did, Si. My first love… Your granddad didn’t want us together, and I ended up with your dad. I grew to love him, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I chose easy over real. Sometimes I wonder if I’d been less afraid, what life would be like now.

“I'm by no means regretful, because I got to have my two perfect sons, but you had to pay for my mistakes too, and for that I’m yet to forgive myself. I’m supposed to give you a good life, but I didn't. The least I can do now is not hold you back.

Her hands clasped over his. “So live for me, Si. Don't worry about me. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will always be your mum. I can’t stop loving you even if I tried. I just need to see you happy, that’s all I need from you.”

His gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m not good enough for her,” he muttered.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

“Isn't it too late?”

“Never.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“You make it sound harder than it is.” She cupped his cheek. “It won’t be painless, but if she’s the one, it will be worth it.”

Against his mum’s shoulder, he wished his tears would stop flowing, but with the way she rubbed his back, Simon was once more just a little blond boy with the scraped knee.

From the front porch in the chill night, it was shameless how he called you at that hour, when he didn’t even say goodbye when he left. It was shameless how even after you rejected his calls, he still called for the 5th time, or 10th – he’d lost count. But at last, the line connected.

“Luv,” he said breathlessly, palm pressing against his eyes that had barely dried.

“Please stop calling me.”

“No, wait. Please, listen. Don’t-”

“You’ve made up your mind. Begging only reduces me to nothing, so I didn’t try to change it. I owe you nothing, Simon.”

And the line clicked off.

Still sat on the steps, he blinked at the phone in his hand, deciding if he was going to worsen the situation if he called again. It was shameless that he did anyway, but it went straight to voicemail.

Simon might not have had plenty of dating experience, it was shameless really, but he knew he still had a chance if you were mad.

You’d listen when he showed up at your door, still hauling his backpack.

“Luv, please. Please, listen.”

He thought his heart was about to explode when your footsteps approached. The door opened halfway.

“Hi,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

His breath hitched, and he was near to tears. Despite his resolve, he couldn’t get the words out.

“I've thought about it. You're right. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it was always so hard to see you leave, and I realised it’s only going to get harder.”

No, no, no...

“Thank you for being honest and saving us from further heartache. I know I didn’t have to block you, but I hope you understand my decision to not be in contact anymore.”

“Luv, no. I wanted- I want to try. I don’t care how hard it gets.“

“I care. I want stability, maybe even a family, and I see now we’re not heading in the same direction.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a pained smile. “I wish you all the wonderful things, Simon. Truly, I'm so thankful I got to know you.”

He barely made out the words tumbling out of your lips, wishing he was hallucinating.

“Goodnight, Simon,” you whispered as you closed the door.

Even then, you didn’t give him a foul look for his audacity to show his face after biting the hand that fed him. It was the last time you were going to see him, why did you still have to treat him with respect?

He wished you’d have said something mean, even sick. You should have called him names, tell him he was the most ungrateful man there was, that he was just like his dad, so he had something to hate, so the fire could flare up high once more and he’d be safe behind it like he always was.

But it was you. You could stab him in the chest, and he wasn’t sure it would have been enough to hate you. To overwrite how wonderful you’d been to the wounded stray.

His gaze cast down, unmoving at your door. He did this to himself. It was his fault for dropping his cold stare, for smiling, for looking when you weren’t, cracking his jokes, touching your hand and kissing you, for lying down and baring his belly. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t want him anymore after what he’d done.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see the vivid curve of your lips, your soft laugh, the caress of your fingers. The ache for you morphed into an itch that made him want to claw at his skin, to replace the sweetness with bright, searing pain.

Would you please do the humane thing and shoot him so he didn’t have to drown in the storm that brewed in him?

It was for the best, he told himself. It was what he wanted after all, to keep his problems away from you, to keep you happy, even when he wasn’t in the picture. Leaving you was his repayment for being a thankless beast.

“Just because I go, doesn’t mean my heart follows,” he whispered.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast

[diaryofanidiot]

The Experiments

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Chapter list: Prologue, <1>, 2, 3, 4, 5

Cw: Swearing; torture; blood; medical experiments; panic attacks; malnourishment

Summary: For over a year, Y/N was held in a soviet experimentation facility. Forced to fight and claw her way to live, she managed to stay alive. When the 141 rescues her, they get way more intel than bargained for.

Chapter One

"What the bloody fuck is this..." A gruff voice spoke. I slowly looked up with wide eyes and nearly shat myself at the sight.

A giant behemoth of a man in a skull mask stood still, his body language relaxed but on guard as he stared in my direction.

His boots clunked heavily on the floor as he approached me, his gun still held at the ready but not pointed in my direction. I couldn't see his face, but his frown was apparent in his voice.

"Mactavish, I've found something... or someone, rather." He said, tuning in on his radio. I never once took my eyes off of him, unsure of if he was even real or not. Perhaps I had already died and this was the grim reaper to take me away...

"I don't understand, L.T." A staticky voice came through his radio.

"A woman. In a cage."

"Last I checked this wasn't a sex dungeon." The voice on the radio had a Scottish accent, dripping with amusement.

"Not joking." The British skull faced man said gruffly. "Finish clearing out the building. Then get to the rendezvous. I'll meet you there."

"Copy."

As he finished giving his orders, he knelt down next to the cage. "Who are you?" He demanded.

I scrambled back in the cage until the bars pressed against my bare back. I tried to speak, but my voice only came out in cracks after long-term misuse.

"Ah. Gotcha." He seemed to understand, or maybe he simply thought I was a mute. I saw his eyes flicker up toward the label on the cage.

"Subject 237: "Banshee"." He read aloud. "Stay where you are. I'm opening this blasted thing." He warned. "Try anything and you're dead."

I nodded slowly, desperate to let him know that I understood English. My eyes never left him as he shot the lock on the cage, despite my flinching at the sound.

"Out you go." He demanded, his gun still at the ready. My knees protested in pain as I crawled toward the entrance of my cramped confinement. I had almost forgotten about the chain and collar around my neck.

I could see his eyes widen slightly as I crawled into whatever light the room had offered; they darted around my scarred naked form as he observed me.

"Fuck did they do to you..." He mumbled below his breath.

The chains length only went so far for me to get an inch of room past the cage door. He knelt down in front of me. My traumatized brain flashing danger signs with every movement.

"I won't hurt you." He said in a low tone, one hand coming up to reassure me. "Not unless you try to hurt me. Just need to take this off..."

His hand darted toward the chain around my neck, causing me to flinch at the rapid movement. I could hear him curse underneath his mask as he realized a key was needed.

"Wait. Here." He ordered, standing back to full height before he went to raid the dead corpses in search of the key. He found it on the assistant's body with impressive speed before walking back over and swiftly removing the steel collar that kept me in place.

I hissed in pain once more as the cold damp air hit the sores on my neck, my hand going up to rub them instinctively. His hand was on my wrist now, stopping me from rubbing.

"We should get a doctor on that. Or on you in general..." His gun was lowered now, seeing as I had made no room to attack him. "Do you have a name?"

Once his hand was off my wrist, I pointed a shakey finger toward the label on the cage. He shook his head at this. "No, that's what they called you. I mean a real name." He insisted.

I frowned and looked to the ground. I had one. Over the course of a year, somehow, it had fled my memory. Nobody called me it anymore anyway. I turned my gaze back toward him with an apologetic look.

He sighed. "No matter. It'll come back to you. Let's get you out of here."

He swiftly walked over toward the scientist and removed the lab coat from the corpse.

"Put this on." He demanded, handing it to me. I complied. The fabric swallowed my malnourished body as I looked down, as if just now realized how gaunt my once healthy body had become.

He seemed to be looking at me expectantly. My legs tried to hold me up, screaming in agony as I stood slowly with atrophied muscles. I stumbled, my knees slamming against the linoleum tile. I cringed in pain as they did.

"Fuck." I heard him say before I was lifted and thrown over his shoulder. "Let's get you out of here." I watched as he seemed to notice a file on the table... my file. He snatched it up quickly and stored it away before the same voice I had heard earlier came in on the radio.

"L.T., you copy?"

He spoke into his radio with a sense of urgency. "Aye."

"I'm at the Rendezvous point now. The building's cleared, so you should have a clear path as long as there's no stragglers."

"You have my appreciation." If it were possible to hear a smirk, you could swear he wore one under the mask.

"Get here safely, and you'll have mine, Sir."

The radio went silent once more as I was carried out to the hall like a rag doll. Hell, I probably weighed less than one at this point. My eyes were wide as I saw all the death that littered the building.

Unable to push down the sick sense of satisfaction that came from seeing my tormentors dead on the ground, I managed the smallest hint of a smile. The first one I've worn in what seemed like forever.

The man on the radio was right. A path was completely cleared, seeing as my rescuer never once had to stop for any threats.

Until we exited the building, at least...

Gunshots were pouring out as my eyes adjusted to the rising sun, unaccustomed to the light. I felt my body thrown behind something as my rescuer took cover beside me, firing multiple shots.

Once my eyes adjusted, I blinked them open to see we were behind a set of barrels. I managed a small peak at our assailants before I was forced back behind the cover with an angry "stay."

I frowned as he continued making his shots before requesting backup. I guessed the soviets really didn't want him escaping this one with how many men were sent.

Opening my mouth to try to speak, my voice cracked and strained severely. "Ears..." I mustered. I saw his eyes flicker to me for half a second before refocusing on his targets.

"Ears." I tried again, miming for him to cover them.

"Noise reduction headphones, kid." He said gruffly. It was then I noticed that his ears were already covered.

I glanced back once more, placing a hand on his arm to prepare him slightly as I gathered all the strength I could.

I screamed. The supernatural-esque sound reached nearly two hundred decibles, equivalent to a large bomb. I heard glass shattering and the sounds of people crying out in pain. My throat was raw by the time I let my screaming fade to an end.

The enemy gunfire ceased, and even the man beside me looked temporally disoriented. He grunted as he got his bearings back and shot those writhing on the ground in pain. They weren't wearing ear protection, I noted, finally looking up from my spot behind the steel barrels. They must've been deployed in a hurry.

Once the waves of gunfire ceased, I heard a shuffling motion and a click beside me. My rescuers gun was now to my head.

I looked at him with wide, fearful eyes as he stared me down.

"What the fuck are you?" He demanded. I flinched, but the scream had left my throat too damaged to speak. I could only croak out a few sounds, none of them enough for form even a single word.

"Don't. Move." He demanded, pulling out the file he had snatched earlier from its space between his vest and his chest.

I watched him with unblinking eyes as he opened it. "Are you even human anymore?" He asked seemingly to himself as he scanned the front page of the file.

Something he read caught his eye before his gaze landed on my frightened expression once more. "Show me your teeth."

Hesitantly, I opened my mouth. The barrel of his gun moving to pull my lip back further. I could've sworn I stopped breathing as he revealed the pair of sharp fangs that had been surgically fastened to my canines. His eyes then lowered to my throat. Underneath the sores was a jagged surgical scar where they had altered my vocal chords.

I couldn't read his expression due to his mask, and his eyes said nothing.

"You scream like that again and I'll kill you." He stated matter-of-factly. He didn't seem to care that I just gave him a major advantage against his enemies. I watched him cancel the request for backup before I was thrown over his shoulder once more.

The Rendezvous wasn't far; he experienced no more hiccups in getting me there. I blinked as I observed the abandoned factory, the floor creaking with each of his heavy steps.

I felt my weak body stumble as I was set down on the floor. I winced in pain before a new set of footsteps approached.

"Good to see ya, Sir." The voice that once cracked through radio waves was now just in front of me. I looked up to put a face to a voice. This man wasn't masked, I managed to get a good look at his face.

"Sergeant." The tense tone in my rescuer's voice was gone now as he greeted the other. I listened in as he updated his teammate on the situation.

"Experiments?" His Scottish accent was thick with confusion. His attention turned to me as he knelt down to my place on the ground. He seemed to be observing me, a slight crease between his eyebrows as he did.

Not a trace of fear entered his eyes even once as he looked at me. "Call me Soap, lass."

I blinked at his friendliness, a stark contrast to the other man's battle hardened tone.

"That over there, That's Ghost. He's the one who got you out of there." Soap's hand went to his hip as he unlatched something from his vest and held it out to me. "You'll probably be wanting this."

It took a minute for me to realize what was in his hands but once it clicked, I snatched the canteen quickly and fumbled it open. I heard him chuckle as I drank greedily, the room temperature water doing wonders for my dry throat.

"Slow your roll and don't drown yourself." He lightly lectured as I pulled away in a coughing fit once my greed bit me in the ass by sending water down the wrong pipe.

I watched him turn to Ghost, a quizzical look in his eyes. "She doesn't appear dangerous."

"Appearances can decieve." Was Ghost's response. "Show him your teeth."

I cringed at having to go through this again before I bared my fangs hesitantly. "She was heavily altered. I'm assuming they were creating human weapons."

"That all?" Soap scoffed, seemingly not intimidated. Ghost shook his head.

"They called her Banshee. Her vocal cords are altered as well. I watched her practically burst the eardrums of five enemy soldiers. Hell, nearly had my own eardrums bleeding."

Soap nodded and took the canteen back as I handed it to him. "She's so scrawny. How long have you been there?" He asked me.

Ghost placed a hand on his shoulder. "Her voice is fried. Gonna have to get back to the compound and have a more thorough look at her file. Where are the others?"

Soap stood to his full height. "Gaz and Price are clearing out another facility nearby. They should be here soon."

A new voice called out, turning the heads of all three of us.

"Soon? Try now."

The two strangers, we'll at least strangers to me, walked up. The older man looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite identify before speaking.

"Ghost.... fill us in."

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

Typos? In my fanfic? Liar. (Pls point them out to me as we don't do roughdrafts in this household. We die like Roach here 🫡)

A/N: thank you all for the love this got from just the Prologue alone <3 sorry if anything feels off. I'm a secondhand fan and never touched the games lol.

Taglist: @warenai @linoskitten11 @jamesrifftapes

[tojivu]

Megumi and reader after a two week separation because of megumis mission. He admits that he almost died to reader and talks about what happens after.

empty spaces ⋆ megumi fushiguro

an. argh sorry i got carried away LOL

cw. sfw, gn!reader, comfort + fluff

playing. bills by enhypen.

the bed's been useless these past few days.

it's as if the weeks have been drawn out, the universe adding new hours to each of the days so they're longer than they should be — that's what it's been feeling like.

you refuse to sleep in the master bedroom. the pillows next to your head smell too much like your boyfriend; hints of mint shampoo linger and enter your nose as you try to sleep, but ultimately fail to do so.

megumi's been gone for a bit now, and you haven't gotten much news, either. yaga's always talking about classified information and how 'the public shouldn't be concerned with jujutsu affairs' — anxiety pits in your stomach because why couldn't he just tell you whether your boyfriend was dead?

you try to distance yourself from places in the house that remind you of him, incase he's really gone this time; you believe it'll make things easier for you, but it feels as if someone's cutting away at the vessels closest to your heart whenever you imagine it — imagine megumi's body laying lifeless as they transport it back to tokyo.

megumi's never been gone for more than 3 days, especially on a mission. he's usually quick with it, coming home with a cut or two on the arms or face; it'll heal just fine, because he always asks you to take care of his wounds.

you usually sit on his lap as you bandage him up. he winces at the sting of the antiseptic, his fingers gripping harshly at your waist and then you'll tell him to sit still — he never listens, gets all grumbly with furrowed eyebrows — until you clean him up and put on the last bandaid, kiss him over the piece of clear film (and maybe an extra on the lips, if they aren't bleeding too); it's only then he finally shuts up.

you wonder how long you'll have to sit together on the kitchen island this time, if he comes home, that is — you don't think you'll mind the back and arm strain this time. you just want to see him.

"relax," gojo reassures over the phone. "he'll be back soon."

those words mean nothing to you. he's been gone for 14 days now, and he hasn't called — his location hasn't updated, either, you think he must've broken it during the fight or something.

a few sentences are exchanged between satoru and you, before your finger taps the red button at the bottom of your screen; unsatisfied doesn't, couldn't, describe your current thoughts — you were enraged that that was the only piece of information that was provided.

it takes a few hours for you to calm your thoughts. they make your head spin and heart sink, jump around like marbles on clean linoleum and deafen the shows you play on television.

you're watching megumi's favourite drama, which happens to be your favourite drama, too — he was the one who introduced it to you. you're seven episodes in when you hear the front door creak open; so loud that it reminds you to get the hinges replaced.

megumi was supposed to call the guy. it's clear you might have to ring him up yourself, now.

you wonder if it could be nobara. she didn't tag along with yuji or megumi, and you've been ignoring her calls for the past week or so — she must be here to give you a good lecture.

you hear faint groans and bags dropping to the floor, close to the entryway. you aren't greeted by a loud "[name]" as you usually would by nobara. a shiver travels down your spine, hairs on the back of your neck beginning to stand.

you throw the woven blanket off of your body and to the side of the couch — the socks on your feet lubricate your steps and you almost trip with how fast you make your way to the door.

"[name]," his voice calls, rasp voice barely reaching your ears. "i'm home."

megumi's lip is bloody, bandages wrapped over his right eye and around his head — his left arm and leg had some cuts, as well; but those seem to have scabbed already.

you want to call his name, but nothing comes out of your mouth; only a small whimper before your lover is wrapping his arms around your torso. "sorry i was gone for so long."

the pit in your stomach is gone now, almost instantaneously — instead, you begin to sob into megumi's jacket.

megumi feels the guilt but the comfort of having you in his hold overpowers it. if it didn't, he was sure he would be tearing up, too; he never liked seeing you cry.

"megs," you sniffle. "i thought you were—"

"i almost did," megumi cuts you off. he didn't want you to say those words, though he knows being a sorcerer had his fate sealed — but it didn't mean he wanted you to know that. "but i'm alright, see?"

megumi smiles down at you, as if it didn't hurt to move the muscles in his face: they stung like small needles, but he sees the relief wash over your face like a splash of cold water — so he thinks he can put up the act for a bit longer.

"you're all bloody," you mutter. "can i clean that for you?"

you point at his lip and he nods, wincing at your finger that tries to inspect the cut a little closer — it's a familiar feeling: your delicate fingers treating him like glass.

megumi's standing in front of you, and you're sitting on the kitchen island so you can actually reach his face. he lets you do your thing and he's fighting every urge to kiss your lips; he knows the cut will only get worse.

"i don't want you to go missing on me like that," you say. "never again."

"i won't," he assures, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as you continue cleaning his cuts. "can't die yet."

"ever," you correct. "don't plan on dying, ever."

"i'm not immortal, [name]."

"that's not my problem to fix."

he smiles at your attitude — megumi might really have to figure out a way to become immortal now — freeze the cells that are dying in his body before his bones get too tired to move, stop the pigment in his hair from fading.

"okay." he breathes, hands finding their way around your waist — he taps your legs to open wider to let him fit between. " but you'll have to be immortal too, then."

"why?" you question. "i don't go around killing myself to chase curses."

"when you die, i'll be lonely," megumi explains. "need you to fill the empty space on the bed."

you laugh, trying to think of a witty comeback — you were still upset at your boyfriend for going MIA — but the look he's giving you makes it difficult not to give in.

"is that the only reason you're dating me?"

"maybe," he lies. "i didn't buy such a big bed for nothing. can't let it go to waste."

you gasp, too dramatic to be real — you put the gauze down and give him a stern look, and he lets a giggle slip through his lips before you get to nag him again.

"i'm just kidding, baby," megumi begins to kiss your frown away, pressing his blood stained lips to yours. "i love you for far more than that."

and it's just like that that you melt at megumi fushiguro's words — his red lips and blushed face making your heart skip more beats than humanly possible.

"whatever." you continue to feign anger, yet your arms are still wrapped around his neck. he knows your attitude will last for at least a week.

his lips hurt, and he thinks your hard work has gone to waste with the way he's peppering kisses all over your face.

your hands find his jaw and you lead him into an actual kiss, and you realise he tastes like antiseptic — a little blood in the mix, too — but you can't really complain.

"i'm serious."

you wonder if it's megumi who fills the void you have, or whether it's you who fills his. whether that be in the form of empty beds or an empty house, you know for certain that everything feels off without him — missing like a centre puzzle piece.

"i know," you run your fingers through his rough and matted hair. "i love you too, megs."

"think you'll have to wash my hair for me, too."

you shake your head. "probably has lice."

"we'll have lice together, then." your boyfriend shrugs his shoulders.

"that's so gross, megs," your face sours. "you're such a romantic."

200124 — WHY IS THIS SO LONG DAMN

[weird-is-life]

Here for you

Pairing: Spencer reid x fem!reader

Summary: 4 times you take care of Spencer and one time he takes care of you

Warnings: use of y/n, like one petname, swearing, mentions of injuries, bruises, blood, mentions of food, hospitals, abduction, mention of car accident

Words: 6.8k. Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language,so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes

1.

It's slow day at the bau. Everybody is going through their files and reports. Or at least they are pretending to be doing that.

Your desk is next to Spencer's, so you can clearly see what he is doing. He, probably the only one, is actually working. With his incredibly fast reading, he is putting one paper down after another. Which, you have to say is pretty fascinating and entertaining to watch. Well, up until the point he accidentally cuts not one but 2 of his fingers on the paper.

You hear him hiss in pain, which causes you to break out of your thoughts. Your attention is immediately on him.

His hand starts to get a bit bloody, you don't think, you've ever seen so much blood from a paper cut. So you are up on your legs before you know it. Spencer is frantically looking for what you assume is a tissue in his drawer, when you wrap his fingers in your tissue.

"Here," you say, smiling at him, "who knew a paper cut could bleed so much, huh?"

You expect some fact about paper cuts from Spencer, but he is still looking for something in his desk, so he just hums in agreement.

"Spence," you get his attention,"what are you looking for?"

"Uhh, my antiseptic spray, but I can't find it anywhere and I don't want it to get infected or something," he responds.

"I have one!" You always carry a small first aid kit with you. You never know, when it could come in handy. "I'll get it." You are quick to retrieve it from you bag along with some patches.

"Can I?" you gesture at his hand.

"You want to do it?" he asks, a little unsure and bashful.

"Yes, so can I?" Spencer nods and you gently take his hand in yours. As you patch up his hand, you can feel his eyes studying your face. You can't help but to blush under his gaze.

Spencer's thinking of how pretty you look and that, maybe he should get the paper cuts more often, just for you to take care of him oh so softly.

"All done," you say with a smile,"hopefully i did okay."

It takes Spencer a few seconds to realise you are talking to him and stop looking at you. You clearly catch him staring at you.

He quickly tries to play it off and gives you the best smile he can, "you did, thank you y/n."

"You are very welcome," you think of teasing him about being more careful around papers, but you decide, that he looks flustered good enough.

2.

It's been a tough few days. The unsub is pretty smart and it took the team almost a week to find out who it is.

You are now standing outside the unsub's house about to go inside on Derek's cue. The team has split up in a half, you, Derek and Hotch are at the front door.

As soon as the door is opened, there's a lot of shouting and the unsub takes off to the back door. He catches Spencer off guard there and roughly slams him against the wall and runs away. Almost everybody runs after him, except you and Rossi. You two swiftly go to Spencer.

Spencer is lying on the floor, groaning in pain and your heart almost jumps out of your chest when you see him like that. It only takes you and Dave a few seconds to see that his shoulder doesn't look okay. And from closer look, it definitely isn't alright.

"Don't move," Dave instructs him," I think, you might have dislocated your shoulder." You call for a medic, as you look at Dave and then at Spencer with a worried frown.

You find Spencer's hand and squeeze it reassurance. He tries to give you the best smile he can over the pain. You don't even want to imagine to amount of pain he is in, his expression is enough for you to know it's bad.

Thankfully, the medics get to you in a short time and take Spencer to the ambulance. In the ambulance, he is told, that it's definitely dislocated and that they need to put in back in the right place. Spencer's eyes widen a little at that, but he braces himself for it and manages to survive it with only a small whimper of pain.

You stay with him the whole time, as they treat him and honestly you probably look more in pain than Spencer. You hate to see him like this.

"You shouldn't move your shoulder too much for 2 weeks," the medic starts to instruct as she puts some kind of bandage around his shoulder, "also you should ice it every couple of hours for the next couple of days. It will reduce the pain and swelling."

"It doesn't look, that anything is broken or teared, so you should just let it rest, but if it hurts too much, you should go to the hospital."

"Thank you," Spencer says and gets up slowly with your help.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you ask on the way to the car.

"Yeah, so fucking much, I'd literally die for some painkillers right now," he groans.

"Wish I had any, but I left everything at the hotel. I'll try to get there as fast as I can," you say, as you open the door for him and help him inside. He hisses in pain, while doing so and you murmur a sympathetic sorry to him.

On the ride to the hotel, he closes his eyes, willing the pain to go away and you try to drive as best as you can, considering that every bump sends a jolt of pain to his shoulder.

At the hotel, you quickly pack up your things and head to Spencer's room with the painkillers in your hand. You find him struggling to even fold his clothes, so you help him.

"Got everything you need?" you ask as you look around the room, seeing if you've packed everything.

"I think so, thank you" he smiles at you. You return the smile, "of course, Spence. We should probably go, everyone is already in the car."

As soon as you get on the plane, Spencer lays down on the couch and you can't blame him, he looks so tired and the painkillers dulled the pain, but made him exhausted.

He is out in a matter of seconds, even before the plane manages to take off. It's quite chilly on the plane and you realise Spencer doesn't even have a sweater on. So of course, you get up and softly put a blanket over him.

You know, you are in for a hell, when you see Derek's big smirk.

"What?" you frown at him.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that pretty boy is being well taken care of," he says smugly," wonder if I'd get the same treatment."

"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes at him," of course, I'd take care of you, too."

"Okay, yeah. But I wouldn't receive that kind of a look with the care," he smirks again, clearly amused by your furrowed brows.

"What do you mean? What look?"

"I'm talking about you looking at Spencer like he is a literal sunshine," Derek says as it is some kind of well - known fact.

"I'm...-I'm not!" You lie, but it's such a bad lie, that even you don't believe it.

"You're the worst liar ever," he scoffs, "everybody can see, that you and Spencer like each other. Well everybody, except for you."

"Spencer doesn't like me." Nobody has to make this situation worse for you, you do it yourself.

"Are you kidding me? That boy is absolutely whipped for you. I'm surprised, that he can even function when near you," he chuckles.

"W-what?"

"It's all true, ask anyone, they'll say the same thing." You don't say anything back anymore, you think about what he said. Does Spencer really like you back? There's no way.

You overthink it for a good while, until the tiredness from the day catches up to you too and you fall asleep.

You go from the airport straight to Spencer's apartment. Obviously, he can't drive and you live not so far from him, so you drive the two of you through the empty night streets.

You don't talk much during the drive, because his eyelids keep closing every few seconds and you don't feel like breaking the comfortable silence. So you drive with the radio put on low volume, quietly humming a song to yourself.

When you finally park in his driveway, you jump out of the car and take out his travel bags out of the trunk, while he slowly gets out.

"Thank you for driving me home, you don't have to go up with me. I can take my bags, I don't want to keep you up anymore late," Spencer says and reaches out with his unharmed arm for the bag, but you put it out of his reach.

"You literally can't even put your hand up and you expect me to let you carry this heavy ass bag up the stairs?" you look with a disbelief at him, "there's no way, I'm doing that. So come on, start walking Spence, before I'll make you."

Your serious tone lifts Spencer's corners of the mouth up into a smile. You leave no space for Spencer to argue with you, because you are already walking towards his door with a tight grip on the bag.

You've been at Spencer's apartment many times before, but it always feels like being at a library or somewhere very quiet, I mean like in a good way. It gives off the vibes of comfort, peace and home. Even now, you feel slightly jealous, that your place doesn't feel like that. As you look around, Spencer flops (carefully) on his couch and sighs.

"Spence, do you have ice?" you wonder.

"Umm ice? Yeah, I think so..." He doesn't ask, why do you want to know that, too tired to care about it. Only when you emerge with a smaller pack of ice, wrapped in a dishtowel, he understands.

"Here," you cautiously put it on his hurt shoulder," you should ice it for a bit, so it reduces the pain ."

"Thank you, y/n" he says with a warm smile.

"Don't mention it-"

"No, really. Thank you for helping me today. It means a lot," Spencer does something really brave, he takes your hand into his and gives you a little squeeze. He doesn't know if it's the medicine or if he's going crazy by doing this, but he settles that he doesn't actually mind, because your hand fits perfectly into his and he doesn't feel like letting go off it ever again.

You squeeze his hand back, but before any of you can do or say something stupid, that you'd later regret, you tell him, " I don't know if you have any painkillers, so I left you some in the kitchen. If you need anything and i mean anything, even something small, call me, yeah? I'll come."

"Get some rest, Spence. I'll check up on you in the morning, goodnight." You give him one more smile, which he returns and leave.

The memory of his hand on yours invades your mind for a good while making it hard for you to even fall asleep. Spencer's only saved from this overthinking by the exhaustion and painkillers affect.

3.

Since the morning, you think there is something off about Spencer. His eyes are glossy, he looks very pale and every now and then he shivers. You've asked him multiple times since you've arrived, if he feels okay and he's said yes everytime.

But there's just no way you believe him and by every hour that goes by you don't think, that even Spencer or anyone around believes it. He is for sure coming down with something.

Your prediction is confirmed, when Hotch walks out of his office and on his way to get coffee, he passes Spencer's desk. He instantly stops next to his desk, takes one look at Spencer and knows, he should not be working.

"Reid, go home, before you make anybody else sick, too," Hotch orders him and before Spencer can open his mouth to protest, Aaron adds," and don't come back until you don't look like you might pass out any second." He also orders Anderson to drive him home, so Spencer doesn't have any choice but to go.You give him a small smile and mouth, that he should get some rest.

For the rest of the time you are at work, you are a little bored. Your deskmate, Spencer, is always up to chat or something, but without him the clock on the wall seems to go slower. Finally, you get to leave and your first stop on the way home is pharmacy and a soup shop.

You want to make sure Spencer is okay and alive, that's what good friends do, right? They check up on you when you have a flu or not?

You quickly get to his place, before you can think too much of it. You knock ones and then second time, when Spencer opens the door, looking even worse the he had before. There's a sweat running down his face, his skin is even paler and he can barely keep his eyes open.

"Y/N?" he squints at you in confusion.

"Hi Spence. Did I wake you up? I just came to drop of these," you lift the bags in your hand higher, " i got you your favourite soup and some medicine."

"Oh, you shouldn't have worried," he groggily says, his voice sounding sick and gestures for you to come inside.

"I know, but I wanted to. I also wanted to make sure, you were alright." You reassure him as you set the bags down in his kitchen.

"How are you feeling?" you quizz, "and don't say okay."

"Bad. One minute I'm burning and the next I'm freezing. My head hurts like a hell and honestly I feel like dying," he responds and you try not to laugh at how dramatic his last 5 words are.

"Did you take any medicine?"

"Not really, I could only find some painkillers and I feel too sick to go buy anything else."

"Well, good thing I'm here then," you smile big at him," I got all sort of medicine, so we'll have you healthy in no time."

You start to set everything out of the bags on the table and as you do, you look at Spencer, who is barely even standing looking at you. "How about you go lay down, Spence and I'll bring everything to you, yeah?"

You encourage him and he knows, that that's probably the smartest idea right now. He slowly nods and goes to lay down on the couch, which you realise, he's been laying on since he got home.

You go to him after a few minutes with the medicine and a glass of water. You find him asleep, he looks so peaceful, that you almost don't have the heart to wake him up. But you have to, he needs the medicine if he wants to get better.

You gently shake him awake and it takes him a good minute to realise, that you are in front of him.

"Hi," you giggle at him, " I'm sorry I woke you up again, Spence. I got you these," you hand him the water and the pills. He obediently swallows them and drains the whole glass of water down.

"Thank you," he yawns.

"Do you also want the soup ?" you ask and he shakes his head with a no. "Okay, but you should try to eat something later, yeah? I'll go get you some more water for now."

Before you have the chance to get far away from him, he catches your arm, "Will you stay, please?"

His question catches you off guard, you think that maybe the combination of the high temperature and the medicine kicking in make him a little delirious, because you are pretty sure he wouldn't ask you to stay otherwise. It's Spencer and he doesn't like to ask for help very often. But there's only one correct answer for you.

"Of course, I'll stay." You tell him fondly and he visibly relaxes after that and closes his eyes .

By the time you are back with another glass of water and a cold compress to lower the temperature, he is sleeping again.

Thankfully, this time you don't need to wake him up, you just put the cold washcloth on his forehead and set the glass down on the coffee table. You browse his bookshelves, looking for a good book to read. You know, that Spencer won't mind one bit you borrowing his book. So you take one that catches your eye and sit comfortably in his armchair to read it.

You read for a while and when Spencer wakes up again, he is happy to listen to you about the book (which, of course, he's read multiple times and tries hard not to give you any spoilers about it) while he sluggishly eats the soup.

He is all snuggled up in his blankets and he looks so adorable, that it's making unknown feelings bubble up in your chest. It's not just now, you've been having this kind of weird and new feelings around Spencer more and more often than you'd like to admit. You know what they mean, but you don't really want to acknowledge them. So you don't. Although, in situations like this it's hard. And it's been harder since Derek pointed these feelings out.

Before you can spiral any deeper into these thoughts, you get up to cold the washcloth again.

"Are you feeling any better, Spence?" It's been a few hours you've been with him and he appears to be a bit better.

"A little, yeah. It's only thanks to you, tho" he says and good thing you aren't near him, because you blush madly at that.

"Yeah? I'm glad," you put the washcloth under a very cold water, judging by your white fingers and the loss of feeling of them, you think it's cold enough.

You go back to Spencer and to your surprise he is not yet asleep.

"Can you lay down?" you gesture to the washcloth with a chuckle, you can't really put it on his head, when he is sitting.

"Oh, yes," he slides down the couch, 'till he is laying and you put it on his head.

"Not too cold?" you ask.

"No no, it's great thank you y/n," he sighs happily, the cold is very soothing. His eyelids close right away and even though you are having a small talk about how was work today, he manages to fall asleep. Your heart swells, you haven't seen him this tired like ever. You are glad he is resting though, he has deserved the rest for quite some time now.

You notice the clock on the wall and realise how late it is. Almost an hour after midnight, so you quietly scramble to your feet and take all of your stuff to leave. Before you do, you write him a little note, telling him where everything he needs is and that he should call you in the morning. You leave it in front of him on the coffee table, but before you go home, you do one extremely bold thing. You caringly kiss him on the top of his head, it's in a way a goodbye since you can't say anything to him. And then you dissappear out of there like a ghost.

The next morning, you oversleep and on your hurry to get to work, you almost knock over a huge bouquet of flowers that is at your door. You are a bit baffled, who is it from, but when you find the card, you know it's Spencer.

He send you the flowers as a thank you for taking care of him, saying that he hasn't been taken care of like this in a while and at that moment, you realise that you can't ignore these feelings anymore. Because he is making it impossible.

4.

It's the middle of the night, when your phone rings. You half expect it to be work, even though you are on a vacation for the week. The team has been working on a case near Quantico, so you told Hotch to call you if you were needed.

What you don't expect is the call to be from a hospital not from Hotch. In your half-asleep stage, you catch the words "Reid", "hurt", "okay" and "an emergency contact". You are up on your feet, messily throwing some clothes on you and jumping in your car, before the nurse can even hang up.

You drive to the hospital in a record time. It's a big plus, that it's the middle of the night and there are barely any cars on the road. You basically run out of the car and the nurse at the reception definitely thinks you look a bit mad. You can't blame her, youu think it too, I mean you haven't even brushed your hair or anything, so you must look like a nightmare. You ask her about Spencer and after a few seconds, she tells you where to go.

You speed-walk there and find almost the whole team there.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Penelope questions, surprised to see you there and goes to squeeze the life out of you.

"I-I got a call from the hospital. Spencer.....I-is he okay?" you queried anxiously.

"He is okay, he is quite bruised and beaten up, but he should be fine."

"What happened and where is JJ?" you puzzle, you can't see her here.

"He was following a lead on the unsub with JJ, which resulted in them chasing him in a car and unfortunately they got hit while doing so. Thankfully, both of them are okay, just some bruises and scratches, nothing too serious," Hotch explains, " JJ is already home with Will and Henry, she was farther from the impact . They wanted to keep Spencer for observation to really make sure he is alright."

It is a weight off your heart to hear those words.

"Thank god," you say as you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, "can i go see him?"

"Definitely, he's awake. We were just leaving, there's a lot of paperwork waiting for us at the Bau. See you on Monday, y/n." You say goodbye to everybody, on their way out Penelope huggs you and gives you a cheeky smile and you know what it means, because you've been given this look before. It's the exact teasing look, that Derek gave you not so long ago. You just roll your eyes at it and playfully push her towards the others.

You find Spencer trying to reach for his bag on the chair next to the bed.

"Spence, hi," you greet him warmly, it's relieving to hear that he is okay, but actually seeing him, it's like you can breath again. He looks alright, but he is definitely bruised, he has a black eye already forming and there's a few scratches on his face as well.

You quickly go hug him," I'm so happy, you're not hurt."

"Ouch," he winces, you probably squeezed some of his bruises.

"I'm sorry," you pull away with a sorry look.

"Y/N? How are you here? Did Garcia call you? I told her not to wake you up-" Spencer wanted you here with him, you make him feel better everytime, but he didn't want to bother you, especially not so late. He knew, you'd be here in a matter of seconds, if you'd heard that he got hurt.

"She didn't, the hospital did," you interrupt him.

"What?....Oh," he suddenly realises what you are talking about, he put you as one of his emergency contacts, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" you ask softly and sit on the side of his bed.

"For you having to come here in the middle of the night and f-for putting you on my emergency contact list."

"Of course I came, Spencer. And I don't mind one bit, that you put me on the list. I'm just glad, you're okay," you reassure him, because honestly he is being ridiculous, "I will always come whenever you need help, Spencer," you take his hand in yours to show you really do mean it.

"Still, I should have at least asked you."

"No need for that, I'm flattered that you put me on it."

"Yeah well, you are always here for me when I'm not well," he shyly admits, " I know I can rely on you."

"I feel the same about you," you smile at him," how are you feeling, huh?"

"Not bad, I think my face is the worst part of my injuries, the airbag is no joke," you agree with that.

"Don't worry about the bruises, you are still very much handsome," you don't know how this slips out of your mouth, but it does. Both yours and Spencer's cheeks go red.

"Ugh, c-can I go get you anything?" you quickly try to change the topic.

"Yes, even though it's literally 3 a.m. I'd kill for sandwiches right now." You chuckle and swiftly slip out of the room. You are trying not to feel too embarrassment about what you just said to Spencer and just focus on finding the sandwiches.

It's surprisingly easy to do so, because there's a hospital cafeteria opened. You buy him the sandwiches and also a bottle of water.

Spencer is also trying not to think too much out of you calling him handsome. He likes you, like a lot and he doesn't think he could survive the rejection. So he doesn't want to get his hopes up, he'd rather just stay your friend.

You stay with Spencer 'till he gets released, you don't mean to do that, but you fall asleep in the chair. So when you wake up, you just simply stay until he gets the release papers and then drive him home.

"Thank you y/n, i-i can't even begin to express how thankful I am," you've helped him so much lately. Like you literally helped him wash his hair when his shoulder got dislocated, you took care of him when he had a flu and now you came running to the hospital just to make sure he was okay. Hell even when he had a small paper cut months ago, you took care of him.

He also remembers you giving him a kiss on the top of his head, when he had the flu. He isn't sure if this memory is even real, because he might have been hallucinating from the high temperature. But he does hope it'd happened.

And everytime he thinks of these things, his heart actually skips a beat.

"You don't have to say anything, Spence. I'm here for you anytime," you smile at him, oh so sweetly, that he almost forgets his previous thoughts about rather staying just your friend.

"I'd like to repay you in some way-"

"No need-"

"But I want to. How about a coffee? Monday morning, it'll be on me. I know it's not much, but it's the least I can do," he proposes, " please?"

"Okay yeah, a coffee sounds nice," you give in. You helped Spencer because you wanted to not because he'd have to repay it. But if he insists on a coffee, who are you to say no.

"Yeah?" Spencer smiles, hopeful.

"Yeah, Monday morning at our favourite coffee shop."

"Great, I'll see you there." Too excited Spencer doesn't even realise what he's doing, when he quickly kisses your cheek and gets out of your car. Only when he starts to unlock his apartment door, he catches up. He freezes in terror because of what he just did.

You aren't acting too differently from him. You sit frozen in your car with a stupid smile on your face. You didn't mind the kiss one bit, but it made the already big feelings for him even worse.

It's save to say, that both of you didn't expect that and you think about it for the rest of the day, hell for the rest of the week.

+1

The team should have expected it. You should have expected it. It was clear, that you resembled the unsub's type. Same hair, same eyes, same figure and around the same age as well. You didn't think too much of it. But you should have.

Or at least you should have been more careful.

You shouldn't have gone to the shop so late, when it was already dark outside and you shouldn't have gone alone. You should have asked Spencer or somebody to go with you. This stupid mistake got you kidnapped.

You are now god knows where. You are gueasing, that it's some kind of barn. But you aren't sure, there isn't too much light coming through the wooden desks, just enough to see whether it's a day or a night. And you can't exactly go look around, when your hands are zipp tied to a metal poll.

You aren't sure what time it is, the guy comes to check in on you unfrequently, so you can't even half- guess the time.

You know, you have around 2 days to live, based on what you know about the other victims. But it could be less, especially since you are the FBI.

You are more worried about your injuries, tho. Of course, he hurt you and not lightly. You've definitely lost a lot of blood. You are still bleeding pretty badly from your thigh, he stabbed you there with a sick pleased grin.

But you are not going to give him the satisfaction of breaking you down, never. You are just waiting for the right moment. You think you have enough energy left in you to break out of the zip tie and try to get far enough from him. So you wait until it gets dark outside again, even monsters can't stay up all the time.

The team on the other hand is nonstop looking for you. Spencer was the one who discovered you were missing and since then he hasn't even had one thought about anything else other than finding you.

Hotch's ordered everybody an hour long break, but Spencer doesn't want or need a break, he needs to find you.

"Spencer, come on we're taking a break," Derek says, him and Spencer are alone in the room, everyone else went to the local policy's cafeteria already.

"No, thanks. I'm fine to continue," Spencer says shortly.

"Don't be stupid, you need to-"

"What I need is to find y/n." Spencer cuts him off, raising his voice a little.

"Look Spencer, i understand. I want to find her as much as you do, but we won't be able to do that, if we can't even think clearly from the exhaustion," Derek tells him calmly, he knows how much Spencer cares about you, like more than a friend, so he gets his frustration.

"No, you don't understand," he argues," I-I can't loose her, I can't. We'd tried this before and she- I can't.....not.....-not again," he quaveres, putting his head into his hands. He'd gone through this situation once before and he's not doing the same mistake again. Especially with you, with you it feels somehow even worse.

"You won't," Derek insists, " listen to me Soencer. We will find and we will save her and when we do that, you will finally tell her how you feel."

"Now get up, we're getting some food into you and then we save y/n," he doesn't really give him a choice this time and pushes him towards the door. Spencer goes, but his mind is on you and the case the entire time.

It's much later, when the team has a breathrough in the case and Penelope works her magic, and finds a man that fits the unsub's description perfectly. It takes the team only a few seconds, before they are in the car, driving quickly through the night roads to get to you.

You patiently endure the hours 'till it gets dark outside. And when it does and you are sure, he's not coming back anymore, you yank your hands hard. You do it multiple times, hands bleeding and you get it snapped.

You waste no time from there, you get up on your legs, which appears to be much harder than you thought. You probably underestimated how much blood you've lost, because with every step you take you feel like passing out. But you push through it, you open the door, look around and when you think, that everything is clear, you take off.

You, unfortunately, don't get too far. A set of headlights appears in your vision, so you hide behind the first decent thing you see. You are still quiet close to the barn. You don't know if it's the unsub or somebody else, but you take no chances with whoever it is. You stay hidden and quickly look for something to protect yourself with, you find a big enough rock and decide, that it's good improvisation for a weapon.

You close your eyes, trying to will the dizziness away and in the meanwhile you completely miss, that it's actually 2 cars and not one.

What gets you to open your eyes again is a sound of gunshots and a lot of shouting. You think, you hear a familiar voices, but you stay hidden, not wanting to risk anything.

"Did you find her?" Hotch asks. Him, Spencer and Rossi searched the house and everybody else the barn.

"She's not there, " Derek replies.

"What? She has to be here, she has to" Spencer says desperately. He can't have gotten this far, just to not find you.

"But we found a broken zip tie and a pretty large puddle of blood," Derek sighs. Everybody's worry increases after hearing that.

"Yeah, it looks fresh, if it's y/n's she can't be far," JJ adds.

"Wait, you said, there's a big puddle of blood. How can we even know she's alive?" Spencer says upset. He isn't far from losing his mind.

"Spencer-"

"No, i-i.... how can we fucking find her here? This property is like 15,5 hectares. And we can't even know if he has done anything to her, because he's dead. We could be searching whole night and she will bleed out by then, well if she is even still alive. So how? How?!" Spencer knows, that it's nobody's fault, but his frustration is getting the best of him.

"We'll get the dogs, they will find her quickly-" All this intense arguing makes you curious, so you start to listen closely. At first, you think, that it's the guy talking, but the more you listen, you realise it's not him. You know that voice, it's your Spencer, it's your team. They are here, they have found you.

"Spence?" It's so quiet that Spencer almost misses it, but he's so alert right now, that he couldn't miss it even if he'd tried.

His head immediately snaps in your direction and he swears, he could cry, when he sees you there.

You call out his name again, this time in such a relief, but taking 2 steps towards him, you collapse. The blood loss finally got to you. You see Spencer sprint to you, with the team on his heels and then everything goes black.

You end up unconscious in the hospital for 2 days. You've lost too much blood and when the doctor started to name all your injuries, Spencer actually had to walk out of the room before he could have gotten sick.

He's stayed with you almost all 2 days, except when JJ kicked him out, saying he needs a shower and some sleep. But besides that, he's stayed by your side the whole time. He read you books, fluffed your pillows, just did everything he could to make sure you were comfortable.

He's sitting next to your bed, reading, when you wake up. Spencer notices you waking up, because his hand is holding yours and he feels it move.

"Hey hey hey, " he greets you softly as you open your eyes.

You blink, baffled at him and try to sit up. He carefully pushes you back, which you protest against, "wha-"

"Don't move sweetheart, yeah?" he pushes a few fallen strands away from your eyes and adds,"I'm going to get a doctor, I'll be right back, I promise." And with that he's gone.

He comes back after the doctor does all of the checks to make sure you are okay. He sits in the chair again and unconsciously takes your hand in his again as he tells you everything that happened.

You give him a small smile and with a raspy voice, you tell him," Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving me, i-i knew, you'd come," there wasn't a single moment, where you thought he wouldn't.

"You don't even know how worried I was. I-I thought, I had lost you," he fretted.

"I'm sorry," you apologise sadly, you stupid mistake, made everyone so worried.

"None of that, it's not your fault. I'm just happy you're okay, we all are. I called Penelope, they are on their way here," Spencer states and then there's a silence between you two. But by looking at Spencer, you know he wants to say something else, he's got a look, that you know well. It's the look he has, when he wants to tell you about something interesting, but doesn't want to bore you with his rambling.

"What is it?"

"Nothing..." it's definitely not nothing.

"Come on, spill it," you chuckle, but his serious face makes your smile drop, "what? Did something bad happen?"

"I-I-I just....-fuck, this is harder then i thought it would be" he mumbles. "I love you, y/n. I've been in love with you since the day you looked my way and it only got worse and worse with every smile or a laugh or a conversation or when you took care of me," Spencer blurts all this out.

"I cannot keep this secret any longer, because it's killing. It's killing me that I can't call you mine and that-that I can't protect you all the time, because I want to. So badly."

" i knkw this a lot, especially now. But you don't have to say anything. I totally understand if the feelings aren't mutual-"

"-Spencer,"you interrupt him, but he doesn't seem to realise it.

"I just had to tell you this, because I'd never forgive myself if I hadn't told you. I'm sor-"

"Spencer!" You cut him off, this time more louder. He looks at you like a lost puppy, just waiting for whatever words of rejection, you'll tell him.

But those words never come," just kiss me already," you huff (affectionately).

He's never wanted anything else more, but he doesn't want to hurt you, " i want to, i really want to, but your injuries.....I don't want to hurt you."

"Spence, just kiss me," you are embarrassingly close to begging at this point, but Spencer fortunately doesn't let that happen.

He very very cautiously leans in and kisses you. And you eagerly kiss him back and not so tentatively pull him closer to you. Your whole body feels like it's on fire, but you ignore it, there's only one thing on your mind and that's how nice it finally feels to be kissed by Spencer and how soft his lips are.

You pull apart after a few seconds and there's this stupid grin on both of your faces.

"Does this mean you also-"

"Oh god, Spence," you laugh at him," of course, I'm in love with you. How could I not be? You're so smart, so kind, so honest, so mindful and so caring. It's honestly impossible not to fall for you."

"Oh, good," he bashfully replies, " otherwise this would have been awkward," he jokes.

"You're such an idiot, come here," you pull him by his sweater for another kiss, happy to finally be able to do that.

-

-

-

Hi lovelies, thank you so much for reading. Please let me know whst you think. Feedback is always up.

Have a great day 🌻

[peachesofteal]

soap x cypher masterlist Soap/female reader - Cypher is neurodivergent - 18+ mdni

"What's goin' on?"

You whirl, eyes wide and tearful, taking him in. He didn't change, practically sprinted off the bird to your building, the ragged anxiety of being away for thirty six days bearing down on him like a god damn animal.

He felt like an animal. Tracking, hunting, killing, like an animal. Thirty six days of blood and bones and dirt in his nose. Carbine comfortable in his hands, eyes closed and still knows every detail.

Just like he knows you.

He hoped you'd be sleeping. Hoped maybe you'd be in bed, blissed out, nothing on but the sheets like always. It's the middle of the night, you should be sleeping.

"J-johnny." You look distraught. Lips bloodied and torn, nails chewed to the quick. The collar of his t shirt is stretched so wide he can see your collarbones and chest. You look like you haven't slept.

It turns his stomach. Drags memories to the forefront of his mind, things he's been trying to forget. The sound of your panicked scream, the shrill call of his name. Blood, splattered, dripping from your nose.

"What is it?" He steps closer, but you step back. "Cypher." He's stern, reverting back to Sergeant. You shake your head.

"Don't-" Your breathing is short, but controlled. You're not on the verge of an anxiety attack, but still, something is wrong.

"It's alright, wee sweet. Tell me what's goin' on."

"They moved the analyst center." He cocks his head. "They moved it, to another part of the building. There are no windows, and it only has overhead lighting. Fluorescent overhead lighting. Do you know what that's like? It's like... it's like... it's..." you tug at the collar, snapping your mouth shut. Pieces click together and paint a picture.

"Okay." He says softly, stepping closer. You don't seem to notice, because you don't draw away.

"They keep me up." You explain. "The lights, all day. And then- when I get back, and try to sleep... I can't turn off. And you're not here... to turn me off, and I-"

"I'm here now, Cy." He dares to reach, closing the gap, brushing against your shoulder, testing the waters. "Can we take this off?"

"What?" you blink.

"The shirt. Ye're stretchin' the collar, think ye might be more comfortable if we got rid of it." Your shoulders drop, a fraction, a tiny amount of tension slipping away.

"Yeah, okay." You lift your arms, and he smothers a laugh, pulling it up and over as quickly as possible. You glare at him. "Don't laugh at me."

"'m sorry, 'm not. Swear. Ye're jus' cute, is all. Genius analyst, could topple a country with the click of a button, but... puts her arms up so her Sergeant can take off her shirt." You scowl, and relief warms his heart. There you are. "Tell me about the new data room." He rubs your shoulders, and then sits you on the bed. Once you're settled, he begins the process of stripping his gear, keeping his focus on you.

"It's in the middle of the building. Second floor. I hate it. I guess they moved us because they've transferred some of our team-"

"What?"

"Yeah, like six. Seven? I don't know." His stomach flips. He'll need to talk to Laswell, make sure you're not on the transfer list. "But that's not the problem. It's the fucking... the lights! And the consoles are too close, now. I can practically hear the breathing." you huff, and he nods, pulling his shirt off and unzipping his pants. Your glaze flicks down, lips twitching.

"What can I do?" Your eyes go a little glassy, and then you look at your feet.

"I really missed you." There's a tremble in your voice, a wet choke, and he goes down on one knee, ducking into your line of sight.

"I missed you too, wee sweet." He pulls your hand into his. "'m gonna take care of ye now, alright? Give ye what ye need. Lay back." You were only wearing panties under that shirt, and he pats your thigh, instructing you to lift up so he can pull them down, rearranging your legs onto his shoulder. "Missed this bonnie pussy too." He thumbs your seam, licking his lips at how slick you already are. "Think she missed me?"

"I- I don't-"

"It's okay. She did, can tell. She's already cryin' for me. Poor wee thing. So neglected." You squirm, hips shivering, and he stills you with a wide hand to your lower belly. "Be still, Cy."

"Okay, sir." And just like that. Your voice is already an octave lower, relaxed-

and when he puts his mouth on you, you go boneless.

"Oh god." It's a choke as he spreads your folds, licking a long stripe from your clit and down. You moan, fingers twisted in his hair, and he sighs happily. This, this is where he belongs now. Face buried in your cunt.

He wrings your first orgasm out of you like water from the wash, quick and easy. You have been good, haven't touched yourself for thirty six days, making you malleable, lackadaisical, sweet. He gets another, and another, until your thighs are straight and tight around his head, muscles rock under his hands.

"Thank you." You practically slur, head lolling on his shoulder when he pulls you onto him in bed, hot as a furnace. He pats your ass, just once, just to feel it ripple, and then buries his face in your neck.

Sweet dreams.

[sage-green-matcha]

KILL FOR YOU - ETHAN LANDRY 🔪

having a little fun with Ethan after your murder spree <3

MINORS DNI!

Content includes: Smut! P in V sex, blowjob, a bit of overstim! Mentions of blood, murder, gf!Reader, gf!Ethan

A/n: I love writing psychopath reader 💪

<3

<3

<3

It was off-putting, the way you hummed as you cleaned the pool of blood below you. Ethan paced back and forth as you scrubbed, trying to process what you had just done.

"Please stop spreading the blood" He left prints of red as he walked, making you have to clean up an even bigger mess.

"Sorry..." He felt his chest tighten as he listened to your calm words. It's like you had done this thousands of times before. You were so calm, so confident.

"You said you wanted me to help you with this, E" You mumbled, collecting more water into your bloody sponge.

"Do you regret it?" You asked so nicely, looking up at him with your soft, doughy eyes.

"No...I don't know" His eyebrows furrowed and you smiled, going back to cleaning.

"Richie is proud of you, you know that...right?"

To make Richie proud was all he ever wanted. Sure his father was some half-ass cop and he wanted to make him proud too. But to make Richie like him was all he ever wanted. He always looked up to him, and when he saw what he did in Woodsbooroe he knew he had to do the same.

You know, to carry the legacy.

But it wasn't him who killed the group of friends. It was you.

You knew Ethan's plan would let you experience some of your deepest desires.

The rush of killing was like no other. You felt your body get hot with each stab, every splash of blood that hit your face made you excited.

Ethan watched in horror, he thought he would enjoy watching his brother's murderers get killed. But it was the total opposite.

His skin crawled and he cringed each time the blade made contact with skin. He thought about telling you to stop, telling you he wanted to call off the plan. But it had fallen too deep, there was no going back.

"I know" he gulped and you watched as he slipped his shoes off, carefully to make sure you wouldn’t get upset.

He sat on the couch as you finished cleaning, resting his head back while trying to think.

Your eyes watched Ethan carefully, noticing how tense he was. Maybe it was because of the heavy bodies he had just dragged, or he was just stressed about what to do next.

Whatever it was, you knew you could help him.

You sat down on the sparkling wood floor. The one that was just covered in blood. But you didn't make that connection, you were too focused on Ethan.

You traced small circles on his knee, making Ethan look down at you with intimidation in his eyes.

He wasn't sure how to feel. You looked so cute, so innocent. But what you had just done made him question that.

"Talk to me" Your face was squished up against the soft cushion, your finger still moving up and down his leg.

He hesitated as he went to speak, opening his mouth before quickly closing it. "Was this the right thing to do?"

You batted your eyelashes. You were obviously annoyed. He had just had you kill 4 people...for nothing? But you didn't say that you didn't say anything. Instead, you comforted him.

"It was the best option, Ethan. The only option"

"I know, I'm just..." He bit down hard on his lip, scared to admit how he was feeling.

"I'm just confused, I thought if they were dead I would feel better...but I feel the same"

"Let me help you feel better"

The feeling in the room changed. The awkward tension became sexual and it flowed perfectly throughout the quiet room.

He wasn't sure if now was the time for something like this. But yet again, he would never say no to you. You were just trying to help him. And maybe this was just what he needed.

His cheeks were flushed pink as he nodded, giving you the green light.

Usually, you went slow with him. Giving him a handjob till you stuck his cum covered tip in your drooling mouth.

But this time you didn't have patience for any of that, and neither did Ethan.

You sat yourself between his legs, carefully undoing his belt before reaching into his boxers.

Ethan's heart raced, his tummy filled with butterflies as your hand wrapped around his warm cock.

You almost forgot how perfectly he fit in the palm of your hand, slowly pumping his hard shaft.

He shivered as you spit into your hand, a lewd moan falling from his mouth while you watched with amusement.

Precum leaked from his tip, matching the shiny spit on his cock. With every stroke you felt his veins engrave into your hand, memorizing them.

Ethan was so caught up in his own pleasure that he didn't notice you getting closer. When you paused he let out a small whimper, missing your touch.

But he wouldn't complain again, not when your lips were wrapped around him. Your tongue swirled on his tip, kissing and sucking with your entire mouth.

Ethan basically levitated, his hips twitching forward while his eyes were closed tightly.

He pushed himself deeper into your mouth, a small gag coming from your throat.

The sound made him reach for more, thrusting himself into your neck desperately.

"Shit y/n, fuckfuckfuck" Whimpers fell from your lips while tears escaped your eyes. He barely fluttered his eyes open to see you choking on his cock, the sight being one he had imagined hundreds of times before.

He felt a tight feeling in his stomach, his cock twitching in your mouth before you pulled away.

"Why...why'd you stop?" His chest rose up and down with each heavy breath. His eyebrows were furrowed, but his eyes were open just enough to see you unbutton your jeans.

You sat yourself on top of his lap, moving your panties to the side before sliding his length up and down your slit.

You shivered at the feeling, your juices mixing into each other.

Ethan placed his hand on your waist, holding back whimpers and moans while you held onto his cock.

It wasn't like Ethan to get impatient, he was always good for you. But he was desperate, pushing your hips down with a harsh motion.

You let out a small gasp, feeling his veiny cock fill you up. He stretched you out so well, making you hold onto his shoulders.

Before you moved you pushed yourself all the way down, taking every inch of him. You squeezed him tightly, whimpering at the feeling of your hole being fully stretched out.

Gently you rolled your hips, biting your lip to hide any noises. Ethan’s eyes were closed tightly, his mouth wide open while small moans fell from his lips.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room, your head falling onto his shoulder.

You could hear his muffled whines above you, his hands grabbing all over your thighs and ass.

“Shit, Eth. Making me feel so good” You could barely speak as you felt him inside of you, the feeling making you melt. You were never verbal during sex, but Ethan could get used to it.

He trusted his hips forward, his tip making contact with your G spot. Mumbled moans fell from your lips as sweat formed on your forehead.

“Y/n…” A quiet groan fell from his lips, stopped by your teeth digging into his clothed shoulder.

You pushed your hand under his shirt, running it on his toned chest. “Take it off”

You continued to bounce as he slipped it off, Ethan messily throwing it to the side.

Your nails scratched at his chest, your mumbled moans against his skin.

“M close” Ethan's grip got tighter, the pain from your nails shooting straight to his cock. “Cum in me”

All you wanted was to feel Ethan, to hold him close and make him feel better. You needed all of him.

He trembled at your words, his nails digging into your waist. Marks formed in your skin, deep and red but the pain felt so good.

Your face smushed against his chest as his legs started to shake. His cock twitched inside of you, the feeling of hot cum shooting into your pussy.

He tried to breathe but you were desperate for your release, overstimulating Ethan. Your legs began to shake and you melted into him once again, gasps falling messily out of your mouth.

You felt the tie in your stomach snap, legs still shaking as cum dripped out of your hole.

You pulled him into a messy kiss, running your hands through his hair. You weren’t one to express how you felt, but you needed to tell him. It overpowered everything that had just happened and you wanted him to know.

“I love you Eth, I’d kill for you again and again”

[macsimagines]

I’m so sorry that you’re getting hate. and I’ll make sure to reblog your works more to make sure you feel the appreciation you deserve!

but, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask for a request! Headcannons with Izana, Mikey, and Kisaki that have a photo of their darling on there desk, but when their secretary comes in to the office to hand them paperwork but knock down the photo in the process on purpose. the secretary obviously has a distaste for you being their lover so how would they react to it?

I love a jealous bitch. You just make things a little more interesting for Darling and their man. also this borders on a hyper specific scenario and i hate those so please if you have a fic idea try writing it yourself

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, NSFW, JEALOUSY, TOXIC BEHAVIOR, MURDER MENTION, NSFW

Yandere!Izana Kurokawa

Let that bitch secretary of his stick around because he knows she makes you insecure. No joke, he really does let her act out how she wants because he wants to keep you in check.

Izana will allow her to flirt with him in front of you, maybe even give you some attitude and practically lets her roam around his office flaunting her goods because he wants you to feel bothered and belittled.

He's basically saying; "Look at what I can have and feel blessed I still choose you." without ever saying it.

But he knows he's pushing it and never lets her do anything further than those few things. In fact he treats very coldly if he's alone with her. He only goes out of his way to be nice when you're watching.

Truth is, he can't stand her. Hates her perfume, hates the way she looks, hates the way she speaks. She's only good for one things and that's keeping you in line he doesn't need or want her for anything else.

Then one day, she got cocky, one day she really fucked up. "Oops, knocked over your wife's picture. But it's fine sir, you don't really want to be looking at her when you have me right~?"

After that you never see her at the office again. Her replacement is actually a man hired by Kakucho, who went out of his way to find a proper replacement because he pitied you.

"My old secretary? She got too comfortable. I don't need an annoying woman like that. Now come over here and thank me for my kindness."

Yandere!Manjiro Sano (AKA Mikey)

Hates that bitch but can't get rid of her. Apparently everyone in the office has had a taste and his underlings convince him that's good for morale. Also she does her work well enough and he can ignore her.

He kidnapped you, robbed you of all your autonomy. He didn't go through all that trouble to just have some cheap whore when he already has you.

But then you keep trying to hold out on him, you're not breaking even though he loves you and on the bad advice of probably Sanzu he tries to use her to make you jealous.

Lets her flirt and even flirts back in front of you, just because he wants to know you still care. At one point you loved him, maybe its still there?

But you're a brick wall, maybe even amused by his antics. And he just goes back to despising her, because she's not you. Not your hair, not your smile, not your smell. She's fucking wrong wrong wrong wrong.

The unfortunate thing is that she's gotten ballsy. She thinks she has a shot, even though he was just trying to use her to get at you. This bitch actually defiled your picture by pushing it out of the way and Mikey...

He sees red. He doesn't like hitting women, maybe that was just the little bit of honor left in him, but he can kill this pig with his bare hands and not even flinch.

Mikey doesn't hear her screams, her begs or even her sorrys when its all said and done. Just a bloody pummled mess on the floor.

Maybe she can be good for something because he calls you into his office and makes you watch his men clean up her corpse and get rid of it. Just as a reminder of how much he loves. And what he's still capable of.

Yandere!Kisaki Tetta

He hates her. You're his whole world and perfect Darling. He showers you every day in affection that he only gives to you and she thinks she has a place?

Kisaki had hired her as a favor to business partner. His eldest daughter. And to keep good morale and images with this other company he gave her a job.

Don't worry, he was going to bleed that company dry and toss her out on her ass when he was done ruining her family's name. She was just a pawn, but you are everything.

But all that doesn't make her obvious attempts at winning him over any easier. Her father probably had sent her to seduce him and probably take your place as his new wife.

The thought makes him want to puke. As if that ugly cow has anything on you, the reason he lives and breaths and conquers the very business world.

You don't even know about the games this Secretary is playing because he doesn't need you to worry you're perfect pretty head about it. This is his problem and he will handle it when the time comes.

But that happens sooner than later when she DEFILES your image by accidentally knocking your photo into the trash. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. I was only putting it where I thought it belonged~"

Well Kisaki was a patient man, but if it was time for action... Her father's company is destroyed, her family name ruined with scandal and defamation, and her corpse was somewhere floating all alone in the ocean.

And you were at home with Kisaki suddenly planning a surprise vacation. "You deserve it, Honey. I just want to spend some time with you."

[yandere-sins]

How would it be if blade's darling had wanted to contact him, though? Maybe to try and talk about things? They probably wouldn't know about the mind reset kafka does, so when they try to contact him to set up a meeting they think he remembers them.

Oh my god, that just gave me the sweetest of images! Some yandere's love is just so pure, I swear ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Blade didn't really know why he reacted so fast to the unknown sound.

He usually didn't get bothered by that thing in his pocket, a device Kafka made him walk around with, telling him to check it regularly. It pling! and dundun! all day long, notifications appeared on its screen that he didn't usually react to unless someone mentioned him by name. Why would he? He knew his mission; there was no need to be in constant contact with the others.

Bing!

And yet, when a new sound rang in his ears, one he hadn't heard before, Blade stopped dead in his tracks. The guy he was hunting hurdled away, crawling through the pools of blood on the floor while the rain washed away the evidence of battle. Holding his bloody stomach, he watched the Hunter reach into his pocket, picking up his phone, unbothered by the massacre in front of him, almost as if he forgot about his target that took the chance to scramble to his feet, running for his dear life.

Blade gazed at the bright screen, his eyes hurting, but he didn't even notice the pain as he read the latest banner that notified him of a message.

we need to talk

The hairs at the back of his neck stood straight as he read those four words. Blade's mouth ran dry while his breathing stopped. As if he had to hear better, every one of his motions ceased, and the sounds of the constant traffic in the distance vanished. He felt fury build up as raindrops landed on his screen, the words vanishing. Yet he didn't understand why.

Bing! Bing!

He flinched. Even a second time and repeated, this sound differed from when Kafka or Silver Wolf tried to contact him. He didn't remember it ever ringing out before. A slight shake of nervousness went through him, followed by a spark of excitement. Before he knew it, he was reading the message—eager, desperate.

[Location sent]  meet me here tonight, we really have to talk. i want this to end, you have to...

The message preview stopped there, and Blade snapped out of his trance. Slowly, his eyes trudged to the sender's name, but it was only a culmination of unfamiliar numbers. He looked at the time next, and with a twinge of disappointment, he realized it was early noon at best. A shaky breath escaped him, and for the first time since he got the notifications, he looked up into the dark alleyway before him.

It was quiet, no more breathing of his enemies. Yet, he could hear his own blood pounding in his ears and feel the desperate grip on the sword he still clutched onto. It had not been drenched in the blood of his target completely, yet, he didn't feel the yearning of finishing a job.

Instead, Blade felt compelled to go.

Where to, he didn't know. Somewhere, or precisely, where he should go, but he had never opened the message he received with the location. All he knew was that he had to go there. His legs moved on their own, steps splashing in the wet puddles on the ground. By the time he walked out onto the busy street, his sword had vanished, but not that feeling of urgency pushing him forward.

What were those feelings? Why did they keep aggravating him so? His head hurt as the lights of the cars flashed by him, taking in every moment of his pain. He should stop. He had to call Kafka. Something was wrong, and although he couldn't pinpoint it, it would be dangerous to continue on this unfamiliar path on his own.

Reaching into his pocket, he felt the little device vibrate against his fingers, followed by the now-more familiar Bling! he began to dread yet anticipate at the same time.

don't chicken out this time! just come and let's talk... i know you can see my messages

Staring at the message for a moment, he let the phone sink back into his pocket, never bothering to reply. You knew he was going to come, and he would. He wouldn't miss it for anything in this world.

You?

Who?

His legs carried him onwards into the unknown, but something told him that he knew exactly where he could find you, even if he didn't remember. Something inside him knew, and this feeling grew and grew stronger until it robbed him of any reason. There was a pull on him so strong, he couldn't help but pursue it—hunt it.

You, whoever you are, were his next target, and he had to have you. All to himself. Pressed against his marred body, engulfed by his shadow, never to be seen by anyone else again. Never to be touched unless it were his fingers resting gently against your skin, and never to be tasted unless it was on his lips and tongue. If he must devour you to have you all to himself, he would. And he would tear you down and ruin you to the point that no one would dare to take his prey away from him.

Blade had to have you. Savagely, violently. All to himself.

He didn't know who you were or what you wanted from him. Why you contacted him, or how you even knew about this pitiful creature with a heart beating so fast that he felt real fear for its safety inside of him. But he'd find you, have you, and destroy you.

And he couldn't wait to meet you.

[rottingworship]

Beg and Bargain

The Proxies x Fem!Reader | Chapter Two

Chapter One

Summary: Tim takes you to your apartment for some essentials, you begin to spill your guts on how you ended up in this situation. Your priorities still aren't straight.

A/N: I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure (real). Also, while I personally (currently) don't write super, duper dark stuff... This will definitely still be toxic. just a warning.

Warnings: murder, name calling (bitch, cunt), gun violence, your best friend and ex have names, you are the cause of a murder, your ex tried to murder you, no use of y/n, not beta'd, flashbacks (please let me know if i forgot something!)

Word Count: 2.9k (o.o)

You are sitting in a car, bloody, dirty, and shoeless. You are staring dead ahead with a look of fear on your face. You fiddle with the hem of your bloodied sweater and deeply inhale. Your stomach is feeling sick again, and you can’t tell if it’s from lack of food or the fact that Brian and Toby thought it would be best to blindfold you to get you out of the woods.

“Can’t have you knowing where you are, at least for now.” Brian told you.

You sat in the car, breathing heavily from anxiety. Not being able to see kind of makes you powerless. You had waited patiently for Tim to tell you to take the blindfold off.

“You can take that off now,” Tim had said, smirking, you could hear it.

Now, you are just sitting. “I don’t know why they blindfolded me,” You cross your arms. “Not like I could find that place again even if my life depended on it.” Let’s hope it doesn’t. You want to cry again. The feeling hits you out of nowhere. You refrain from it.

“Are we close?” Tim asks. You can’t tell if he’s trying to get your mind off of everything or get his mind off of something.

“Oh, yeah,” You snort, feeling silly. “Take a right up here. Then you’ll see an apartment complex.” Tim follows your instructions, and you see it. “Yeah, that one right there. I don’t think there are any others, so it’s kinda obvious…” You trail off. He pulls up and you give him the code to get in.

“This place is nice…” Tim takes the place in.

“Yeah,” You look at the parking lot, “especially for this little town, huh?” You are on edge. You are looking for someone’s car, Tim seems to be able to clock that from a mile away.

“Who are you looking for?” He suddenly sounds stern.

You give him an awkward, nervous smile. “I don’t live alone…” His jaw clenches. “She’s not here though! She works first shifts, and I don’t see her car.” You reassure him. Tim nods, parking the car. You realize you have to walk across the pavement to the apartments. You sigh. “Can you, like, drop me off at the door?”

“No.” Tim shakes his head. “I can carry you?” He offers.

You shake your head. You suck in air, sighing. “I’ll just walk and get sick.” Tim does not respond. He doesn’t find it amusing it would seem. You get out of the car and the cold concrete can be felt through the bandages on your feet. You want to hurry towards the building but know you can’t. Your feet and legs burn already. Maybe you should have taken Tim up on that offer…

No one seems to be in the lobby when you walk in. Tim seems on edge. You walk towards the elevator and Tim stops in his tracks. You turn to him. “No, we are not taking the stairs. I’m hurt and I live on the fourth floor.” Tim doesn't want to argue. Maybe he feels bad for you, maybe he just doesn’t want to cause a scene. You can’t tell. You both enter the elevator and lean back against the railing. You look up at the mirror on the ceiling and realize just how fucked up you look. You see a leaf in your hair. You pull it out.

Tim groans, “Sorry, Toby said he got all of those out. I told him I’d do it, but he insisted on being the one to pull all the twigs and leaves out of your hair.”

“How sweet.” You deadpan.

The elevator stops and the both of you make your way out. You lead Tim down the hallway and to your apartment. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“I don’t have my key.”

Tim looks uneasy.  You try to think of a way to get in and the door swings open. You let out a short scream and jump into Tim. He grunts and steadies you.

“What are you doing at home? And… You’re with a man?”

“Val!” You whisper, “you’re supposed to be at work!” You speak through gritted teeth.

Val’s eyes look over you and they widen. You tense. Tim’s hand goes to the small of your back immediately. She wants to pull you into the apartment, her hand twitches. You see her gears turning. You suck in air through your nose, jaw clenched.

“Can we come in?” You ask.

As you say ‘we’ Val’s eyes move to Tim. She is frozen. After a short moment of awkward silence, Val moves to the side. You rush in, Tim hot on your trail. Val closes the door and places her back to it.

“Can I-”

“No,” you respond before she can say anything. “I’m just here to collect some things. I’m still on vacation.” You reassure her.

“You packed before you left.” She states it, her eyes not leaving Tim. She can see how bloody you are, and how clean Tim is. She is obviously connecting dots that something is wrong, and completely off.

“I know love,” Your voice suddenly changes, Tim notices it. “Do not worry about me.” Val nods, her eyes glazing over. “I’m just here to grab some shoes and some essentials. I promise, everything is okay,” You lie.

“Everything is okay…” She responds. Her voice is monotone. She turns and goes to her room.

You turn away from Tim and walk towards your room. You grab a duffle bag, the only bag you hadn’t taken on vacation, and begin to fill it. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You quickly wipe your eyes and try to sniffle quietly.

“Are you crying?” Tim asks softly, but still completely on edge.

“No.” You snap. You walk to your bathroom, Tim close behind you still. “Can you get off my ass?” You mumble. Tim shakes his head, you see it from the corner of your eye. You turn around and narrow your eyes. You cross your arms and look at him. “I promised Val I’d never fucking do that to her!” Your voice is dangerously low. “And I just- I just did…” You break.

“Are you-” Tim starts. He doesn’t finish. He knows whatever he’s about to say is going to set you off a little more.

“I’m fucking terrified…” You are crying; trying to keep from sobbing. “I don’t know what’s going on, what’s going to happen-” You stop yourself. You wipe your face again and let out a guttural groan. You turn from Tim and grab some of the things around the bathroom. You throw face wash, a toothbrush, deodorant, body wash, tampons, and some hair care into your bag. You aren’t sure how long you’ll be gone. You are preparing for the worst.

You go back to your bed and sit down. You look at the different shoes and grab the most comfortable pair of sneakers and then a pair of socks. You look down at your feet. You examine the somewhat bloody and definitely dirty bandages.

“They need to be redone.” Tim clocks his tongue. “The bandages.”

No shit. You refrain from saying something stupid. “I’ll just- We can redo these later. I need to get the fuck outta here.” You slide an old pair of Crocs on and shove the shoes and socks in your bag. In all, you had grabbed a couple outfits, some essentials (that probably shouldn’t have been priority), and most importantly, shoes. You throw the bag over your shoulder and walk by Tim and out of your room.

“I’m leaving!” You shout to Val. “I love you!”

“I love you!” She replies, a little more joyous than how she sounded earlier. But she still doesn't sound… Normal.

You walk back towards the elevator. You and Tim step in and you notice him staring at you. You give him a funny look. “You didn't change your clothes. Didn't you wanna do that?” He furrows his brows.

“After I shower. I need to scrub this dirt and blood off of me.” Tim stares at you harder as you smash the ground floor button. “What?”

“You don't wanna shower at your apartment?”

“Didn't know that was an option… I was just hoping that ‘Toby’s place’ has hot water.” Your use of air quotes makes Tim laugh. You aren't sure if that’s reassuring or not. You let it go.

“It does. Probably not for long. But it does.” 

You nod. You make your way back out to the parking lot and into the car. You throw your bag in the back seat and sit back up front. You look down at the blindfold and back at Tim. “Do I need to–”

“Not yet.” He shifts in his seat. You nod and bite the inside of your lip. “Your roommate… she knows about your–”

“Yes.” You cut him off. “She knows about my ability.” Duh. “She thinks I’d never use it on her…”

“You never have?” He asks, his voice genuine and curious.

“No!” You shake your head. “Not until just a bit ago! I had never really, um– I never used it for anything bad until last night.”

Tim's grip on the steering tightens. “What do you mean ‘bad’.”

“Well, I really just did little things. Mostly when I would drink… I haven't drank in a while though. But last night– I wasn't drinking, I was minding my own business and I– I did what I had to do! I did the only thing I could do!”

“What did you do?” You know he's trying to get information, really. What else would he be doing? But you're emotional and about to bust from keeping everything to yourself.

“He had a gun! He was gonna shoot me!” You are panicking, recounting it. You are remembering too well.

_-_-_-_-_

You were in the middle of the woods. Your eyes were wide and full of fear.

“Do not think about it, bitch!”

“Please, John!” You begged. “I'm not– I won't tell anyone. I'll do anything– please…”

“Anything?” He questioned you. You nodded. “Aw,” he feigns sadness, “now you wanna be a slut? Too bad. Should’a thought about that when we were together.”

You stared in horror. “John. You have a great life! You are literally doing what you've always wanted! Being private investigator–”

“Do not use that magic on me, witch bitch!”

“What are you– What do you mean?” You were shocked to your core.

“I heard about what you can do. I had to come back to see for myself. Y'know, it makes sense. The free drinks at the bar? Thought it was just ‘cause of the way you dressed. But thinking about it, you definitely had those bartenders in a fucking trance, huh?” You were stunned. “Also, the fact you made me leave you alone when you didn't wanna–”

That struck a chord. “I never used that on you!”

John's eyes darkened and his smile widened. That was all the evidence he needed. You wanted to kick yourself. His hand moved to the gun on his hip and you let out a shout before he was on top of you covering your mouth. The both of you tussled briefly, but you ended up on the floor. The gun was pressed to your temple. You began to cry. Hard.

“Oh, shut up cunt.” He growled out. “I should make you suffer. For all the things you've done… I'm nice though, I promise this will be quick.”

You began to panic. His hand moved from your mouth and he steadied himself over you. You used that to your advantage.

“Get off of me.” Your voice did not break. Your eyes locked with his. His eyes glazed over and he moved off of you.

“No!”

You furrowed your brows at John. Most people did not break away that fast. He pointed the gun at you again.

“Stop. Put the gun down.” He listened. “I do not want to hurt you. Please leave and just forget about this.” You plead with him. “I'm not using my ‘magic’, just leave.”

John screamed, frustrated and infuriated. “Are you mocking me!?” The gun is pointed back at you again.

Fuck, I'm gonna have to– “Put the gun to your head.” You knew you couldn't look away. Not if you wanted it to work.

“Stop!” He was beginning to beg. “You will regret this!”

“Then leave!” You shouted.

“I can't let you go!” He was forceful.

You still had a grip on him. The gun was still against his temple. “Put your finger on the trigger.” Tears brimmed your eyes. What the fuck am I doing? You felt incredibly sick and confused. You did not want to die, but you also did not want to kill him.

“Please! I’ll leave!” His voice broke.

You held back a sob. You knew that wasn’t true. He was lying. He was going to kill you.

“Pull the trigger.”

As soon as his finger pulled it, you looked away, a strangled scream escaping you. You hit the ground and let out a loud wail. You had just been the cause of death to someone you once loved.

_-_-_-_-_

You bring yourself back to reality, “He was gonna kill me!” You can’t breathe. You’re gripping your chest and gasping. Tim’s hands are tight on the steering wheel. “I didn’t have a choice! He knew, and if I didn’t-”

“How many people know?” Tim seems concerned.

“Only Val! I thought… but she wouldn’t tell anyone. Especially John. He was always-” You cut yourself off and make some hand motions. “Kinda off. She knew that! But he still knew… Said I was gonna regret it if I killed him…”

“Sorry,” Tim cuts you off. “Gotta blindfold you now.” He pulls over on the side of the road, seemingly feeling some type of why about your outburst of sadness. You can’t pick up on it. You nod and he grabs the blindfold, asking you to turn for him. You oblige. You seem to always oblige. “Why were you in the woods? When Toby found you?”

“Oh,” You huff, “just blindfold me and act like nothing is weird about that…” You decide to continue anyway. “John took me out there. Said something about, I don’t know, showing me something? He was too strong to even fight against anyway. And I kinda knew I could get away if needed… Didn’t expect that though.”

There is silence. Tim doesn’t seem to have any more questions. You breathe in steadily, trying to ignore the fact you are blindfolded in a car with a man you still really do not know. Realizations are hitting left and right, and there is nothing you can do. Not at the moment.

The car begins to slow down and comes to a halt. You sit there. Tim unbuckles, you hear it. You wait for instruction on what to do next. Tim picks up on that.

“Hold on,” he says, opening his door, “I’ll help you out. I’m gonna grab your bag.” His door closes and the door behind you opens. You hear rustling and the door shuts. Your door opens and a hand grabs your bicep, and you are pulled from the car. You duck down, and a hand touches your head, keeping you from bonking it on the car.

Tim steadies you and begins to walk forwards, leading you towards what you hope is the cabin. You really hope he brought you back to the cabin. When you hear leaves crunching ahead of you, you only grow more tense.

“Wh-what are you wearing!?” Toby is ahead of you, seeming to be dying of laughter.

You gasp. “Toby! I’m wearing my crocs!”

“And your bl-bloody clothes!” He laughs harder.

You just cannot win. You move to take your blindfold off and freeze. Your fingers are holding the tied part, and your breathing is slow.

“You can take it off.” Brian speaks up. You listen. You take it off fast and you’re ready to run for Toby, again. “I wouldn’t.” Brian warns, “You remember what happened this morning.”

He has a point. You hate it, but he has a point… You look over at Tim. “Thanks for carrying that. I’m gonna head inside and shower.” You grab the bag and smile as you thank him. “You have hot water?” You look at Toby. When he shrugs, you let out a guttural groan.

“J-just fucking with y-you. I do, b-but the hot wa-water heater isn’t th-that great.”

You want to swing on him. You do not. You nod and trudge inside. You know Tim is going to tell them everything that happened. You do not care. You just want to shower. You get into the bathroom and place your bag down. You pull out your new clothes and place them on the sink and look at the shower.

You do not know how this one works…

You let out a little cry and walk back out of the bathroom and onto the front porch. “Hey!” You shout at the three of them. “I need help!”

“Showering?” They all say in unison.

“No!” You stomp your foot, “I need help starting it…” You feel stupid.

“Oh,” Toby walks up to the porch and right past you, towards the bathroom. He easily starts it and leaves. He says nothing else. You want to die. You close and lock the door.

“This is going to suck…” You begin to unwrap your feet. You don’t even know what sucks more. Your situation or the way your feet are going to burn in that water.

When you get in, you decide in the moment, it’s definitely your feet.

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Sneaking around

Summary : Draco is being tailed by Harry, but he doesn't know that. He goes to meet his secret Ravenclaw girlfriend y/n. 

Harry slid out of Slughorn's party and followed Malfoy. He knew his cloak would be of use as he threw it over him. Draco Malfoy during this whole semester looked sickly and pale but today he looked…Draco.

 He followed him through the secret passageway on the third floor that was rarely used; he wondered when Draco had found it. He was so deep in thought he hadn't almost noticed that Draco had stopped. 

Suddenly black hair flicked from a corner. Draco lounged and pulled out a laughing Ravenclaw girl. 

"Salazar Y/n," 

"Hi~" Draco's scowl dropped and a shy smile made its way there instead. 

"Hello," Draco rolled out. 

"Your hair is a mess Malfoy, are you actually using your shampoo?"

"Of course I am, i was bloody thrown from Slughorn's stupid party" 

"Sounds a bit hmmm jealous, was a certain Harry Potter there?" Harry froze once he heard his name. 

"Don't start, you saying his name once is enough,"

"Shall I start calling him the chosen one or the other he who must not be named." Harry was mesmerized by her, it was like she radiated happiness. 

Draco shook his head so hard that his hair became more messed up. 

"Jeez, Draco relax," 

"Potter's been trailing me lately," Y/n raised her eyebrows. 

"If I didn't know any better I'd ship you two," Harry wanted to retch in his hiding place. "Lorminuim"

"That's new," Draco remarked, flopping on a nearby couch. "Made it?" 

"Nah 7th years, it's a silencing charm which also acts as an alarm if anyone steps within 10 feet of our invisible bubble we'll know"  Harry froze again, if he moved. He'll be in deep trouble.

However everything except for one fact flew over Draco's head as he sat up. "7th Year boys?"

Y/N blinked at him before she threw back her head and laughed. "What if it was a boy?" Y/n teases coming closer. "Mmm, what if it was?" 

Draco rolled his eyes. Y/n sat on his lap and cupped his face in her hands. Smooshing his face makes him look like a fish. Harry was still in severe shock. 

“I’m yours, mon amor est pour toi et toi sulement,” Draco burst out laughing. “Stop laughing I tried.” 

Draco pressed soft kisses into her palm. “I know, bloody accent needs help but, I love you too” he then said something in perfect french. Harry had enough and he, under his cloak, moved backwards inch by inch turning with each step, he did so till he was out. 

“Harry?” He spun to find Hermione and Ron behind him. "Harry? You look like you've seen a ghost,"

"Malfoy,"

"Don't tell me you followed him, can you belive this Ron, wait, you knew didn't you," Hermione pointed at Ron's red ears.

"I- Harry what about Malfoy what did you catch him doing," 

"He and y/n are a thing," 

"What? They barely are in the same space at the same time," Hermione said crossing her arms. "I mean yeah, y/n is close to the slytherin boys."

"What-" 

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

Somehow news had spread quickly. Mostly thanks to Ron and his, "MALFOY AND Y/N ARE YOU BLOODY SERIOUS MATE" Soon it even reached the love birds themselves. 

"Pansy told me that she heard it from Luna who heard it from Ginny who heard it from Ron."Y/n was sitting at the head of Draco's four-poster bed with his head in her lap 

"Do you think he caught us snogging somewhere," 

"I would hope not else you won't be getting any." Draco pouted. 

You’re cute when you pout

“Thank you,” Draco flushed slightly. She herself blushed, she said that outloud. 

"Nevermind, it was probably Potter maybe he tailed me on one of our dates," 

"Maybe," Draco started to play with her hair.  

"We can't keep hiding in your dorm, unlike you, a dinner person, I am a breakfast person." 

Draco sighed at that. They only had two classes today both after lunch. "Please let's just stay here, just for now," 

"Fine, you owe me," 

Draco just smiled and cuddled into y/n, "I really love you y/n, like a lot that i actually let on" Y/n froze.

"Y/n? Y/n you don't have to say it back, I just-"

"I love you too,"  Draco sat up and looked at her. 

“You don’t need to tell me you love me, I don-” she shut him up with a kiss. Suddenly the door barged open, 

“HA PANSY YOU WERE RIGHT COME CHECK THIS OUT,” Blaise in all his glory stood heaving with laughter. Soon they were joined by Pansy Theodore Matheo and Lorenzo. Draco with a wave of his wand had shoved them out and locked them out. 

“Why are we friends with them,”

“Say the word and they’re gone,” she laughed an kissed Draco back. 

“I’ll think about it, since we’ve been caught and I’m starving, let’s go,” Draco sighed and help her off the bed. “But you’ll still owe me a bunch of snacks later,”

Draco looked at her a small smile on his lips. “Deal,” she smiled and his heart stuttered. He was truly enamored with her.

[quirkle2]

something i've noticed in my obsession with ritsu kageyama is that he underestimates people a lot

i think the first example of this is in episode 8, and it's absolutely littered throughout the rest of season 1. it starts with koyama, and the way ritsu says, "that guy is finished—it's over," when shigeo reaches 100%. while he Does have good reason to believe this, and so does the audience, koyama still manages to "win" by pulling a trump card that completely negates anything shigeo would be able to throw at him

when he's locked up with the awakening lab kids, his first idea is to act like he and the others don't have powers at all, which Wildly underestimates claw's communication between members. ritsu was literally noted to be an above-average esper, and "special treatment" was suggested for him. the fact that he even thought that would work at all suggests he either thinks they're incompetent (which, since all he's seen from claw is koyama so far and koyama can pack a fucking punch, is a little silly) or he's panicking and clinging to desperate, sloppy plans. it also kinda reminds you he's Literally Thirteen. god . he'sso small

also, the fact that ritsu doesn't even remember the awakening lab's kids names is another example of this—he deemed them "unimportant" during his arc, and continued to think this for a good while (i'd say he even holds onto some of those views well past the show's runtime, if his little comments about the twin's telepathy in the transmission arc is anything to go by) (also also, that <- deserves a post all on its own bc the fact that he meets another pair of siblings with esper abilities and sees that it's brought them closer instead of torn them apart . wow that makes me ill)

reminder that he listens to one of the kids "get killed" in another room and then watches a claw member drag the kid back out and throw his bloody, lifeless form to the floor. This Happens To Him. he watches this go down, and then he Continues to misjudge them. his little comment about the claw lackies "underestimating them because we're kids" is a bit funny to me now, given this entire post

he does it to shou immediately. he doesn't see a scar on him, so he immediately assumes he's lower tier and about as strong as the lackies. even after shou stomps and cracks the fucking hallway in half, ritsu walks right up to him and doesn't seem threatened. i doubt he's trivializing this situation just bc shou is a kid—that just wouldn't make sense from ritsu's perspective on things

he's already seen the biggest baddest esper in town—he lives with the guy. he knows the strongest esper is his own brother, so his view on other people's powers are very skewed. ritsu is so caught up in his trauma that he thinks shigeo is unbeatable, and i think part of that is because he was so young when The Incident occurred. anything scary that happens to you at that age is going to seem insurmountable to you, if you've never tried to overcome that fear. ritsu fully believes ???% is completely invulnerable (and yes, that's largely true) but he seems to carry that idea over to shigeo as a whole

maybe dimple's comment about ritsu being able to reach shigeo's level got more into his head than i originally thought it did—he "knows" he's at least close enough to shigeo to eventually surpass him, and since he puts shigeo's powers on a pedestal built with shaking hands, he thinks, hey, i must be pretty close to that. i must be pretty invincible too

he tends to mentally call fights finished before he's seen everything his opponent can do. ritsu straight up responds "i don't believe that," to shou's little you can't defeat me, and he's seen basically nothing in shou's arsenal

to his credit, once all the scars show up, he shuts his mouth and admits he's no match. and i think after the 7th division arc, he stops brushing people's abilities aside so much

this is why the shimazaki fight is so important for his character.

he fights him even though he Knows he'll lose. the shimazaki fight is Not ritsu underestimating him—previously, he's lost battle after battle because he truly and fully thought he'd win. he does not think he'll win this, and he's doing it purely to distract shimazaki from shou's position

ritsu kageyama is 1000% ride or die, especially when it comes to his own beliefs and trauma. i think if shou's situation wasn't as similar to ritsu's as it rly was, ritsu wouldn't have tried so hard to help him. ritsu risks his life to give this kid just a few extra minutes to deal with his father, and the way he enters the fight speaks pretty highly of how much he Wasn't underestimating him

he enters the fight by blinding shimazaki, by pulling a trick from his pocket underhandedly, and even though it obviously doesn't work, it shows that ritsu believes he'll need to do more than just use his powers like he normally does. i believe this is the first time he fights this way as well, with this covert trickery that uses his environment to his advantage—he keeps doing it throughout the fight; throwing cars, dislodging rocks to collapse ceilings. he's truly trying to think outside of the box because he entered this fight with the knowledge that he'll likely lose, and he needs more than just Himself to stay alive

but enough about ritsu underestimating claw, or awakening lab kids. i think the person he underestimates most of all is his own brother.

maybe i'm stretching the definition of "underestimate"—maybe there's a better word for it that i can't think of right now—but the way ritsu seems to think that shigeo will snap at the slightest issue in his life is... well. it's a little,,, patronizing, isn't it? he doesn't seem to have faith in shigeo's ability to keep a cool head, and even though he knows for sure that shigeo is Powerful (and even, sometimes overestimates that aspect of him) i think he tends to undermine his control over that power, tends to believe he'll blow up and scarcely doubting that assumption. he grew up like that, constantly in fear of his brother unleashing that "monster" again, and that in and of itself is an example of ritsu not having enough faith in his brother

when he sees onigawara talking to shigeo loudly in the hallway, ritsu sees how nervous shigeo is and narrows his eyes, like he senses something building in him. when reigen gets slashed during the 7th division arc, the fear in ritsu's gaze is not directed to reigen's "killer," it is directed to his brother, in fear of an oncoming explosion. and i Would say he gets better at this, but even at the tail end of s3, at the beginning of confession arc, ritsu fully believes (until he sees the car that hit shigeo, i think) that ???% came around because tsubomi rejected him. he thinks his brother would react so negatively to that, that other side of him would come out to wreak havoc.

when mob Does actually ask tsubomi out, he just cries when he's rejected. he reacts like every other teenage boy reacts, by quietly crying to himself. it's a very normal thing—after the absurdity and the sheer vastness of power and destruction the audience was just put through, mob walking away and crying quietly about being rejecting by a love interest is the first taste of normalcy we've had in like three episodes. what ritsu thought would spark this is actually the thing that calls the story and the audience back to a place that is solid and grounded

i'm not saying ritsu is a bad brother—that is so so SO far from my point—i'm saying that he's young and he's full of multitudes, and that includes mistakes. and that is Refreshing

this little guy is So full of faults, and it's one of the many things i love about him. he's a character that's practically built upon flaws with "good traits" as an afterthought, instead of the other way around, and the fact that he's been written like that, but introduced to be the polite, honor student, supportive, younger brother type is So Fuckin Cool!

it compliments his arc perfectly, because the reason big cleanup arc starts is because he's tired of being all that. he's tired. i never stop thinking about his maybe i wanted to find out what it would feel like to be a fool, it's Such a good line, and even if his reasonings for big cleanup arc seem nonsensical to some, i think it makes perfect sense in this odd, fucked up way. he literally Says it, right there. he explains everything in those few lines during that rooftop scI'M GETTING OFF-TOPIC

ritsu is a good character and his numerous flaws are what make him interesting to me. if he stayed that polite, honor student, supportive, younger brother type, i probably wouldn't give a shit about him. he is interesting Because he's made some pretty bad choices, Because he's made some pretty disgusting assumptions. he's a kid, fumbling along, with trauma dragging him by the wrists. i could talk about him for hours

[spectres-n-soap]

The Clouds remind Me of You - Soap x reader x Ghost

Content Warnings - Pregnancy, afab body, grief, MW3 is canon, arguing, minor physical altercation?, so much angst guys.

Masterlist

Ghost knows he shouldn't be pushing you, pushing this boundary but as the days pass you seem to be getting bigger. At least, that's what you complain about each and every time you have to go up the stairs to your flat. It was raining again in the evening but the day with partial sunlight seemed to lift your spirits at least, or rather, you weren't lying on the couch and basically snarling at him whenever he tried to approach. You reminded Ghost of a pregnant homeless dog, snarling at anyone who tries to touch you for good or for worse. "C'mon." He pleads, "You have to eat something."

"No I don't Ghost."

"It's Simon." He reminds you. Ghost had insisted you call him Simon because the two of you weren't on base. You hadn't accepted that idea and still called him Ghost. Whether it was out of habit or just to piss him off, he didn't know and both were very possible. Although at this point, he was leaning towards 'just to piss him off' territory. "Just eat a little bit?" He holds the warm chicken noodle soup towards you.

"Fuck off, I don't need babied." You grumble and manage to somehow move even further from him despite your prone position on the couch. "I'll eat when I feel like it." You state, trying to leave zero room for argument from his side. You hadn't been feeling well all day and the moment it had started raining, you just collapsed onto the couch. The entire day felt like the worst one since Soap had passed. Morning sickness all day along with sporadic Braxton Hicks left you with zero appetite. At this point, you could not tell if you felt sick because of this damn pregnancy or if you hadn't eaten. It didn't really matter because every time you looked at the soup, you felt like throwing up. Or maybe it was because it was Ghost who held it out to you.

"I'm not babying you." Ghost argues, "I'm just taking care of you."

"Oh would you fuck off with that sentence!" You snap, suddenly finding the energy to sit up and glare at Ghost. "I get it alright? You loved Soap-"

"Johnny."

"You loved Johnny." You take a deep breath to try and keep the tears at bay, "So did I! I can't fucking stand you being here." You yell and smack the bowl from his hands and onto the wooden floor. "Bloody Christ! Can you not get that through your stupid fucking mask?" You stand up, a bit wobbly on your feet but you back up when Ghost tries to come to your aid. "He's supposed to be here!"

"Don't."

"Don't what Ghost? Don't speak the fucking truth of it all?" You ask as you storm up to him and wipe away the few tears running down your cheeks. "Are you scared of the truth?"

"Don't say it." Ghost snaps as he looks down at you. His breathing is becoming uneven as rage flares up in his brown eyes. What you wouldn't do for it be Johnny's blue eyes looking at you.

"If you had been there," You push an accusatory finger into his chest, "he would still be here. Johnny would be here instead of you."

He grabs your wrist and yanks it away from his chest. "You don't get to say that. You weren't there either! You were back at base from a broken arm!" You stumble backwards as he pushes forward, fury in his eyes as he speaks and his grip on your wrist grows tighter. "I had to watch him die! A bullet right through the fucking skull."

"Shut up!" You screech and try to pull your wrist from his grip but he yanks you forward.

"Now I'm trying to do the right fucking thing! I'm trying to help out the woman he got pregnant because he would fucking put a bullet in me if he was still alive and I didn't." Ghost pushes you back onto the couch. "I'm not going away. Get that through your thick fucking skull."

"I want you to go away! Just leave me alone, I didn't need your help during the first 29 weeks of this pregnancy and I don't need it now." Ghost storms over to the pot of still warm soup and pours another bowl of it. "Fine, you don't need me. But I don't care. You're gonna eat this fucking soup and then I'll leave." He pushes the bowl of soup into your hands. "Fucking eat."

You looked at the two bags of ash in your hands as the tears run down your face. A fat sob left you leaning against your steering wheel as you sobbed. You were meant to deliver one of the bags of ash to his family after Ghost had poured out the 141's portion over the highlands. It was a nice day too. Far too nice for a moment like this, for you to cry so hard you felt sick. You had just gotten your arm out of the cast, excited to see Soap return with the rest of the 141 from the mission to stop Makarov. It had been a wild goose chase, the first mission had left you falling out of a four story window to escape some gas.

It had been raining when they got off the jet, the rain obscured everything but you knew something was wrong when you only saw three figures. Price had approached you first with Gaz and Ghost behind him. You scrunched your brows together, confusion must've been all over your face because Price spoke first before you could even get the question out. "Soap is KIA."

The sound of the rain cut out, the words that came from Price had no sound as your eyes focused on the jet behind them as a stretcher with a bag over it was pulled out. You didn't even notice that your fingers had started to dig into the skin of your throat as the ability to breathe was stolen from you. Gaz pulled your hands away from your throat and everything crashed down. The rain deafened you as the first few tears ran down your face. "Captain." You choked out as you looked into his blue eyes. Fuck, had they always looked so much like Soaps? "Captain please."

Gaz had to hold you up as your knees gave out. You covered your mouth with your hand and just cried because the scream caught in your throat. The next week went by in a blur and now you were here. Parked a block away from Soap's parents house. It was a nice neighborhood, you could hear kids playing in the distance while you broke down and cried again. You had barely held yourself together at the ash spreading and it was all just coming apart now. You looked at the baggie filled with ash that was meant for you. This is all you had left of Soap, not even his dog tags. Price had given the MacTavish's his dog tags the day after they arrived back on base.

Slowly, you lifted your head up and wiped away the tears. You straightened your uniform and got out of your car. The walk wasn't long but the bag filled with his ash felt like it weighed a million pounds. You stood at the front door of the MacTavish's for a long moment before you finally rang the doorbell. A woman with graying brown hair opened the door, her eyes red like you were sure yours were. She didn't look old but you supposed that was because Soap had joined the military early. Where would he be now if he had been caught?

"Mrs. MacTavish, I'm from the 141 and I'm here to give you this." You muttered and handed his mother the bag.

"Oh." She put a hand to her mouth as she began to cry again. "Hello John." She whispered and held the bag gently, "My baby boy."

You lay in your bed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you get up. It was dark outside and the clock on the oven read 1:28 am. You navigate your flat with ease until you open a closet and pull a box from a shelf. Opening it, the bag of his ashes sit along with a few keepsakes that remind you of him. Remind you of times where you two laugh in pubs and drink your favorite beverages. That reminds you of his touch and shoulder touches, the sneaky kisses the two of had shared after that night. You look at your home phone and reach out to it. Slowly, you input the number Ghost gave you and you look at the numbers on screen. You press the call button.

It rings once, twice, thrice and just when you are about to hang up, he picks up. Ghost's voice comes through the phone, "What is it?"

"Can you come over?" You ask as you wipe your eyes and sniffle.

"I'm coming." He mutters before hanging up.

[vioartemis]

Falling for her (part 2)

(ghostface! Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: After months of dating Tara, you find out she killed people, dressed in a Ghostface costume. Looks like you have a type... Part 1 || Part 2 Warnings: blood, injuries, death, angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

It has been five months since you and Tara started dating. Everything was perfect. You dates, the time you spent together, her. It was as if you were living in a dream.

It was rare to see one without the other, you were constantly on each other, cuddling, holding hands, or kissing. Which annoyed your friends, but you didn't care. You were happy with Tara, and hoped it would last.

Even with the recent murders that occurred, you weren't too affected.

Unfortunately, Tara wasn't with you right now, she had to go to the library to study, and you were bored. You thought you might study too, but you couldn't find your notes. Then you remembered where they were.

It was night, and the streets were dark and empty. You shouldn't be outside with a killer on the loose, but you really needed these damn sheets of paper. If only she didn't forget to give them back to you during the day...

A few days ago, you let one of your classmates, Ava Bennett, borrow your notes so she could complete hers. She wasn't supposed to keep them a whole week.

When you arrived at her house, you were surprised to find the door slightly opened, as if someone forgot to close it. You pushed it hesitantly, not wanting to see things you were not supposed to.

The first thing you saw was how messing the house was. Everything was upside down, vases broken on the floor. Suddenly, you heard a sound of broken glass coming from the kitchen.

Without thinking twice, you ran in that direction - dumb decision - only to be met with the sight of Ava's bloody form on the floor. You let out a horrified scream, before realizing she was not alone in the room.

The killer looked at you through his Ghostface mask, tilting his head slightly. You took the taser Sam forced you to carry out of your bag with shaky hands.

Fortunately, the killer ran away, probably thinking you were not alone.

A sudden movement made you jump. It was Ava. She wasn't dead! You let the taser fall to the ground, getting on your knees beside her, applying pressure on her wounds to stop the bleeding with one hand, taking your phone with the other.

You dialed 911.

"Please I need help! M-my friend has been stabbed she's bleeding!" you said as soon as someone picked up, tears in your eyes

"Miss, calm down, what happened exactly?"

"We don't have time for that! She's going to die if you don't come!"

You didn't listen to what the man said to you, quickly giving him the address before putting your phone down and put both of your hands to better use.

You grabbed a towel on the counter and applied more pressure on the bleeding wounds.

"I-it's gonna be okay.. I called 911... they'll be here quickly..." you said, in an attempt to comfort the girl.

Or maybe you were trying to convince yourself everything would be okay.

When the ambulance arrived, followed by the police, your hands and jeans were soaked with the girl's blood. She was still alive, you could feel it.

Some ladies helped you getting up, and led you to the back of an ambulance to see if you were hurt. A police officer then came so you could tell him what happened.

The rest happened really fast; they took your phone and called Sam, registered as the person to call in case of emergency, they told you they would need to keep it as an "evidence". Then Sam arrived.

She talked with a police officer, looking at you with worried eyes, before they finally let her pick you up.

She was about to hug you, but you stopped her, holding your hands in front of you.

"I wouldn't want to ruin your clothes..."

When you finally got home, Tara was waiting for you in the living room. She got up the second she heard the door.

"Y/n! Are you okay??"

She didn't wait for your answer and hugged you tight. The warmth of her body made you feel a little better.

"I have to see my therapist, can you take care of her while I'm gone?"

"You can go.. I'll be fine..." you said before Tara could answer

Sam nodded, still worried, before leaving.

"C'mon, let's clean you up.."

You both went to the bathroom, where Tara helped you take the blood off your hands, before giving you a new pair of jeans and throw the blood stained one.

Then, you headed to your room. You got under the covers, feeling safe with the blanket on you, while Tara sat beside you on the bed, stroking your hair gently.

She placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"You want to talk about it...?"

There was not much to say, as you arrived too late. You told her what you saw, Ava, stabbed several times, laying on the floor of her kitchen.

"He looked at me... he looked at me, and when I took the taser... he just- he ran away..."

"Don't worry, the police will catch this fuckhead soon. We already survived two Ghostface, we can survived one more, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I hope so.."

Then it hit you.

"... How do you know it was Ghostface...?"

You looked at her, sitting up in your bed. She stayed silent.

"Tara, how to do you it was Ghostface...?" your voice broke on the last words

"Y/n I-"

"Answer me."

"..."

That silence said everything. You couldn't hold back your tears.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me..."

"I'm sorry! You weren't supposed to learn it like that... I-"

"I'm not doing that. Not again."

"I- I never would've hurt you I'm not-"

"The last person who said that tried to stab me five minutes later."

"I know but you have to believe me! I love you so much... I would never lay a hand on you-"

"Get out."

"No Y/n please listen..! She wasn't a good person, she-"

"Tara. Get. Out."

The look in your eyes hurt her. You didn't care. You got up. She took a step back, looking at you with teary eyes.

"Y/n please..."

"Get the fuck out of my room."

Without her realizing it, you made her walk out. You slammed the door shut as soon as her back hit the bathroom wall, locking it from inside.

You sat in the opposite corner, knees against your chest, face buried in your arms. Tara was banging on your door, trying to talk to you. You could hear the despair in her voice, the guilt.

But you couldn't do this again.

You covered your ears with your hands, head resting on your knees, tears flooding down your cheeks.

When the door opened, she stopped trying. You didn't hear anything for a solid five minutes, before someone, probably Sam, knocked on your door.

"Please go away..." your voice was low and broken

No one else tried to talk to you after that.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

You spent the next three weeks avoiding everyone, especially Tara. You still couldn't believe your sweet girlfriend killed Ava. Maybe she killed the others too. You weren't sure of anything at this point.

Despite all your efforts, one night, Sam managed to catch you in the kitchen, while you were grabbing some food.

"I'm worried about you... you don't talk to anyone, you almost don't eat... What happened that night...?"

"..."

"Y/n please... Tara's not doing well either, she feels really bad... I'm afraid she does something she'll regret... I don't know what she did, but you could talk about this, don't you think...? Or at least talk to me... maybe I can help..."

"You can't help us... We- I have to deal with this myself... But I can't right now, it still hurts too much..."

Before she could add anything, you got back into your room.

What could you do? Tell the police, and send the girl you loved in jail? No, that was not an option.

Forgive her, and hope she doesn't try to kill you? You wanted to. Yet you couldn't help but remember what happened with Amber. You thought you could convince her, and she tried to kill you.

The next day, while you were walking to class, you heard someone call your name. You turned around, already pissed.

"Y/n! Can I talk to you?"

It was Luca Harris, Ava's boyfriend.

"Uh... sure" you sighed

"Can we to go a.. more private place?"

You didn't really understand but you followed him behind the gardener's cabin.

"What do you want..?" you asked

"I'd like to talk about Ava..."

You glupped.

"What about her?"

"I wanted to thank you, for trying to save her."

"How do you know-"

"My dad has friends in the police. They told him they found you next to her, hands covered in her blood, trying to stop the bleeding..."

"That's what happened yeah..."

You didn't see where he was going. The only time you talked to him before was after you walked in on them having sex, to apologize.

"C'mon Y/n... we both know that's a lie"

"What...?"

"My dad's friends told him who you were. Y/n L/n, ex girlfriend of Amber Freeman. The psycho responsible for the Woodsboro massacre last year."

You felt your heart miss a beat.

"W-what are you trying to say...?" you asked

"Isn't it obvious? You killed Ava. Because you're as crazy as your ex. Because you were jealous of her."

"What...? Of course not..! Why would you-"

"Stop lying, I saw how you looked at me when you saw us in Ava's bed. You blushed so hard you were as red as a tomato."

"Because you were fucking naked!" you said, but he wasn't listening to you

"Your girlfriend can't satisfy you, can she? You needed someone else to take care of you properly, I can understand that. But you could've just asked, I would've done it with pleasure."

You tried to back off, but he wasn't ready to let you go.

"Why did you have to kill her? Now I have to kill you too... to avenge her"

Saying that, he took a pocket knife out of his jacket, and pressed a button to open the blade.

Luckily for you, Tara was watching from afar. The shine of the blade caught her attention.

In less than thirty seconds, she was here.

"What exactly do you think you're doing with that knife?" she asked the boy

"Ah, I was wondering when you would come. I was about to slice her open, just like she did to Ava."

"Don't you dare touch her."

"And what are you going to do, huh? Slap my knee? You're like 5'1! No wonder you can't satisfy her."

You tried you take a step closer to Tara, but Luca was faster than you. He put the knife against your throat, pushing the tip slightly into the soft flesh.

Everything happened so fast you barely understood what was going on.

Tara kicked the back of his knees and pulled him by his collar, making him fall slightly backward, before taking the knife out of his hand.

"No one touches my girlfriend dickhead."

With that, she stabbed him in the eye. Blood splattered on her shirt.

His body fell to your feet. He was dead before he even touched the ground.

You started to panic. There was tons of people only a few meters away. The body would be found before the end of the day.

You took a tissue in your pocket before bending down to remove Tara's fingerprints from the knife. Then, you took the boy's hand and wrapped it around the weapon, just in case, before taking off your sweater and throwing it at Tara.

She looked at you, mouth agape.

"Put it on, you're covered in blood."

She did as you told, before asking:

"So you don't hate me...?"

For the first time in weeks, your gaze met hers.

"Of course not..."

You saw her eyes shining a little with hope.

"Y/n I-"

"Can we talk about this later..? After classes? When we will be far away from his dead body?"

You didn't say that in a mean way, just worried someone might come here for whatever reason and catch you.

"Let's go before someone sees us..."

You both headed to class, hoping you didn't leave any evidences next to the body. Every time a teacher spoke, you were scared they had found the body.

Tara, on the other hand, was more relieved than scared. All she could think about was you. You didn't hate her. You gave her your sweater, her favorite one with your perfume on it.

It was too big for her, and you always told her she looked so cute in it. She spent her day thinking about all your dates and the moments you spent together.

Until an announcement was made.

You were in history, one of the only classes you had together, when the speakers turned on. The director started talking. They found the body.

You gave Tara a worried look across the class.

"Classes will end now. You must go home and lock the doors. Don't walk alone, always be with someone. Don't take any risks, if you see something suspect, call the police immediately."

Everyone started to talked as soon as the announcement ended, quickly exiting the classroom to find a friend to walk home with.

You walked to Tara, feeling sick.

"You okay..?"

"Yeah I think... let's just... let's go home..."

She nodded, and was about to take your hand, before stopping, not sure you wanted her to. You looked at her for a second, and took her hand.

"... I'm sorry I didn't try to talk to you... It just brought back memories I wanted to forget..." you said

You were both sitting on your bed, decided to explain yourselves.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing, I knew what Amber did, I saw how you felt after that, and I did the same... But the simple thought of someone wanting to hurt you makes me sick to the core... I... I just wanted to protect you..."

You placed your hand on hers softly.

"Why did you kill Ava..?" you asked gently

"I... I heard them, her boyfriend and her. They were talking about you.. He was telling her what happened at Woodsboro, the murder, that you were Amber's girlfriend, and probably her accomplice... They wanted to blackmail you, using that information..."

You didn't say anything, taking a minute to register the informations.

"And... and the others...?"

Once again, she explained everything to you. These ones wanted to take you away from her. It was true that they had been flirting with you for a month or so, and became more and more insistent.

"... You're not mad...?" she asked

"I can't say I'm happy about that... but you did this to protect me so... Thank you..."

Your lips curled up into a little smile.

"Does that means.. does that means we still have a chance..?"

"At first, when I learnt you did.. what you did, I thought you were like Amber... But I had time to think, the past weeks, and... Now that you told me everything... I realized you couldn't be more different... She was ready to kill me realizing I would leave her... You killed people to protect me from getting hurt, even if it meant me being mad at you"

You brought her hand to your lips, placing a kiss on her knuckles.

"I love you so much Tara... I'm sorry it took me that long to talk with you... but please stop killing people, I don't want to take the risk to lose you..."

"I'll try. For you"

She came closer to you, sitting on your lap, and cupped your cheeks. You tilted your head up slightly to look at her, before her soft lips met yours.

"I missed you" you whispered against her lips

"I missed you too"

[Previous part]

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By the way, I'm opened to requests, so if there's something you'd like me to write, feel free to ask ;)) you can see who I write for here (along with the rules to request)

@captainbeat @faunusrubyrose