#It's getting worse over time; I sure know that.

[unknownati]

xi. slow morning

a/n: from my draftz if theres typos dont tell me im blind and proud... as a side note i feel like i write intimacy better than anything else AM I TWEAKING.

warnings/tags: gn!reader, no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, fluff and smut, short, handjob (e! recieving—very ekko focused), intimacy (both nonsexual and sexual), cuddling, morning sex, modern!ekko, slight sub!ekko, hoping this position is understandable lol, no morning breath mentions y'all arent in each others face, half-proofread...meaning i gave up halfway thru. goodnight! 🙋🏾‍♀️

_______________________________________________

warm slivers of sunlight seep through cracks in the curtains, spilling on your face as your eyes fluttered open, making a slow ascent into consciousness.

you're met with a phone screen, a pair of hands framing the device. ekko's. a thumb swipes along the screen, transitioning into the next video. two cats cuddling. you watch him hover over the send button, tap it, choose your profile, and type the message 'us :)' before sending it to you. your phone buzzes faintly on the nightstand, though you don't reach for it.

gentle breaths seep into your ears from behind you, relaxed and steady. a shift in movement, warmth enveloping your figure—his arms, which you reach up to stroke. his hold is protective and grounded.

he was long awake before you, you can tell from the way his voice sounds, smooth and airy.

"morning, angel."

it's a stark contrast from when he first wakes up. he sounds more gruff. more miserable. much like how you sound now.

you groan, soft. you stretch to rub the sleep out of your eyes. "g'morning."

you don't feel miserable, though. far from it. waking up in his arms is the only way you've ever liked waking up.

neither of you will be getting up any time soon. not with the way your legs are tangled together, the way he presses a tender kiss against the shell of your ear as a secondary greeting, it's all too...weighted. too comfortable to just brush past. it's the weekend, anyway.

you turn, neck slightly craned, forehead pressing into his clavicle. his scent clings to him, as intoxicating and heavenly as ever. the faint traces of last night's shower linger. you know he used your body wash—he always did. shea butter lied above a layer of his basic lotion (eucerin, you put him on since he has drier skin), completed with that divine cologne he uses. forest-y, notes of pine and bergamot.

your fingertips drag along the bare skin of his side, and he twitches away from your touch. a breathy laugh exits him.

"that tickles."

you stop, moving down to his core. "sorry," you murmur. it's half-sincere.

your digits dance across the surface of his stomach, quite literally. you create legs with your pointer and middle finger, making your little hand-person do twirls and jumps. his laughs bubbles again.

"that tickles worse," his chin meets the crown of your head when he looks down, unable to catch your expression. a hand meets your nape, mimicking your movements.

it's featherlight and playful, as if bugs are scuttling along your skin. you laugh the same as he does, shoulders shrugging up in discomfort.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry."

his hand settles at the bottom of your back, right where your spine curves inward. it's relaxed at first, but then it presses. pulls you closer. as if there's even any more space to close.

your legs wrap around his waist, the leg which you lay on pushing beneath his hip to raise it. it's only uncomfortable for a second, then it's like you're slowly melting into each other's forms. bare chest to bare chest, chins resting on the other's shoulder, hearts swelling at the same speed. you know your leg will fall asleep soon, but you don't care.

yet, he's not paying enough attention to you. not as much as you'd like. sure, his hand is stroking your back. sure, he still seems like he's trying to find ways to pull you closer. but his focus strays. it's all on his phone, undeserving.

his eyes stay glued to the screen, darting around. some video about owls. his hand was beginning to falter, his affection slowing.

greedy. you need more. you know how to get it.

you shift away and your hand meets his side again. he flinches, assuming you're continuing with your ticklish movements. he settles once realizing you won't. then it trails, a slow drag down towards the front of his boxers—a light blue pair with snoopy and woodstock printed in an even pattern. you bought them for him a while back, and he was never one to complain. plus, they were comfy.

only when your fingers breach the elastic band did he notice what you were doing. he doesn't stop you.

he wasn't soft for very long after you reveal his length. feeling it grow stiff in your hands made your heart rate pick up.

"i've barely even touched you yet," you murmur, turning to litter his neck with open-mouthed kisses. he groans in response.

his tip prods at your naval once his dick is standing at full attention. an airy chuckle flows from you into his ears. your fist closes just below the head, thumb reaching to rub along the sensitive underside. each vein, each ridge that you trace over elicits a whine—ones that are close to melodic, satisfying hums to your ears.

your hand moves agonizingly slow, long strokes that leave his mind going fuzzy. it's not long until his tip starts crying, which you happily collect as lubricant. his brows knit together, delicate gasps overlapping the video in the background.

ekko's face nuzzles into the junction connecting your neck and shoulder, plump lips pressing into the end of your collarbone. his moans muffle against your skin.

"hidin'?" you ask, your free hand reaching to run through his locs. he nods, slowly thrusting his hips up into your fist, meeting your movements halfway.

a small noise clicks behind you, and whatever video he was watching stopped. then a thud against the mattress. he dropped his phone. another arm clamps around you, and you know you've got him good.

finally, the attention is on you. his grasp on your body is tight, the sweet desperate nothings he whispers into your ears as he curses and begs you not to stop are angelic.

"fuck...don't stop. please, you make me feel s-so good. god, baby—"

you loosely echo his words back to him, voice sultry and raspy. "yeah?" you purr. "feels good?"

your wrist flicks faster, too quick for his lazy hips to keep up with. he loses rhythm, his pants stutter. he murmurs something, too shyly for you to hear, yet you can only assume he's coming undone. your theory is quickly confirmed, his movements slowing to a stop as he releases all over your hand and tummy, fingertips pressing into your back.

if only you could hear his pretty cries better. against your skin, they're low and subdued, but you can hear the incantations of your name paired with his voice breaking off at the peak of his climax.

neither of you realized how tense his body had become until he relaxes against you, hand still weakly skimming along your lower back.

still, your bodies were heavy. neither of you wanted to move. but the cum dripping off you was starting to feel weird, and you want it off.

you barely even get to think about moving before his arms squeeze tighter around you. "ekko, i wanna go wipe this off."

"not yet," he whispers shakily. "just...a few more minutes. can't be done with you yet."

you've definitely won his attention. for a few hours.

[heavenorhella2001]

This had never occurred to me way back when when I first watched playthroughs of the game/played it myself, but;

Seeing this post made me remember Max's nightmare, when she was trapped in her own mind/a broken version of reality.

And seeing this now?

Max definitely has PTSD.

Everyone always primarily discusses/ focuses on Chloe's trauma (which is understandable. I'll always be a Chloe defender and don't want to downplay her trauma by any means.)

But, unfortunately, Max's is overlooked.

Now, a lot of people might view this skeptically, question the idea of Max having PTSD. To many, it might seem like Max doesn't really have any lasting form of major trauma after the events of the game. Maybe she really was content and at peace and happy-go-lucky. (I've always scoffed at that scene at Chloe's funeral, when Max smiles at the butterfly.) And I'll admit, within the context of the story maybe we aren't supposed to think so. But if that's the case I just have to assume that's due to the developing team's lack of knowledge, experience with mental health and how it works, the impact things like this have on someone. Not that they are coming from a malicious place, of course. But very rarely does a person 'get it' unless they've been through it themselves. The average person simply won't understand.

But if you see everything I've described here as it's laid out, it makes total sense;

Let's talk about Jefferson. He is just one of many elements in the game contributing to Max's trauma. He was her teacher, someone she looked up to, respected, and was supposed to be able to trust. She truly felt safe around him. It's implied she had a crush on him. But her image of him completely shattered. After the truth about him was revealed, she was no longer able to trust her own judgement of people, her perception of reality.

He drugged her when she was vulnerable, and she was helpless to watch as he shot and killed the love of her life right in front of her. He kidnapped her, and she was thrown from the frying pan right into the fire. When she woke up she was tied up in a basement, helpless, and he had burned all her photos. Not only precious memories, but also one of her only means of going back and fixing things. He then took photos of her, over and over, this went on for who knows how long, while she was drugged, tied up and helpless, in order to satisfy his own perversions. Throughout, he mocked and tormented her.

Then, let's go into what happened with Chloe. Having to watch her best friend, the girl she loved, die over and over and over again. Max felt responsible for fixing it, preventing it, because she was the only one who possibly could. She would blame herself, think of it as a failure on her part each time Chloe died.

After watching her die in various ways, so many times, I'm sure Max questioned if she really even could save Chloe- or if Chloe was supposed to die from the start, and the universe was determined to restore the balance, no matter what Max did or how hard she tried.

And then there's Kate. This could go one of two ways depending on your choices, one of which is infinitely worse and more traumatizing, but either way it would definitely have haunted Max and left an impact on her.

Imagine how you would feel, knowing one of your closest friends was being bullied. Knowing they have been drunk/drugged and taken advantage of at a party. Yet instead of anyone coming forward, doing the right thing and helping Kate out of that situation, everyone at the party instead weaponized it, used it against her, slut-shamed her even though she wasn't in her right mind, was barely even conscious and was in no way able to consent to anything that was happening. Not that slut-shaming her would have in any way been okay or excusable even if Kate was acting of her own volition. Knowing that, even though you don't agree/don't identify with that, that your friend is deeply religious and clings to faith as a means of comfort. Knowing that she feels like a failure, that she feels like she's betrayed her faith, everything she stands for, and her family, even though she was in fact a victim in her situation. Being able to read letters, watching her family victim-blame her, hide behind their beliefs as a means to tear down someone they should feel obligated to protect, to support. Watching your friend be alienated by everyone around her, including her own family. Watching the school bullies write obscenities about your friend on the walls, and in the bathroom, make jabs at her and taunt her at every possible opportunity. Your friend's light has begun to dim, she starts pulling away from you, begins hiding away in her room more, which now feels like a dark, oppresive void. You know your friend is depressed, and you're trying to be supportive in any way you can, but there's a distance building between you you feel you can't bridge.

Then it happens. She kills herself/tries to kill herself. In front of you, and everyone who tormented her. Even then, the people who hurt her have no shame, laughing and recording her when she's in crisis. You begin to question and blame yourself, blaming youself for not noticing something was severely wrong earlier, not recognizing the impending signs for what they were. You want to help your friend, to save her, but your powers at failing you at the worst possible time. You only get one chance to do this, like everyone else, and you have to do it the right way.

If Max managed to talk Kate down, that's still an instense emotional weight, still a serious event to work through and process.

If Kate jumps…well…

Max feels like a failure. Like she contributed to Kate's death just as much as everyone else. Like she may as well have pushed Kate off that ledge herself. Not only watching your friend die in front of you, but knowing that it was self-inflicted in a moment of desperation, that they chose to do so and your words had no effect…

Now, the end of the game. Depending on what you choose, Max either has to to feel an immeasurable weight on her conscience, the responsibility for the destruction of the town where she was born. Where she grew up. Where she has countless memories, despite its' faults. The deaths of almost everyone there she's ever known.

Including (especially) Joyce.

The guilt of feeling like she took Chloe's mom away from her too, after Chloe had already lost her dad.

Oh. And that reminds me.

It was an incredible miracle, Max discovering her ability to go back through time via photos. Being able to go back 5 years, to when she and Chloe were only 13, before all the horror had happened, and save William. The sense of sheer relief, happiness and accomplishment she felt. She felt like a hero.

Only for it to all blow up in her face in the worst possible way.

Seeing Chloe, now a total shell of her former self. Completely disabled, and paralyzed. Helpless. Unable to live on her own. Seeing firsthand the emotional and financial stress William and Joyce are going through as a result of the accident. Chloe having so little quality of life that she pleads with Max to kill her, because she can't even do it herself.

(This is not my narrative or opinion on Chloe's situation, by the way. This is how it's portrayed. Quality of life, determining whether your life is worth living to due a life-changing accident or consequent disability is the choice of the invidual whom it effects. I'm not saying that anyone in Chloe's situation, who is paralyzed would inherently have no quality of life or no reason to live. That really depends on the invidiual, what that person needs in order to truly live and thrive, whether that person has family and friends and an emotional/practical support system in their life, etc. For Chloe, for me, and for many other people, though not all, living that kind of life would not be worth it.)

Max, depending on your choices, having to kill Chloe, to choose the merciful path, allow Chloe to exercise her autonomy in a world in which she can no longer do so and put her out of her misery. Knowing that she's doing for Chloe what she'd want someone to do for her if she were in that situation, yet still full of pain and regrets.

Max then having to go back and undo it all. Allow William to die again. Watch Chloe experience that horror and trauma again, knowing now she could've prevented it. But at what cost?

Lastly, if you chose to let Chloe go. To let her die.

That makes it immeasurably worse in my opinion.

The week she and Chloe spent together, reconnecting and rebulding their friendship, everything they went through together, would essentially never have happened.

Chloe, in this timeline, died alone in a bathroom. She never recieved any sort of closure, never got to know what happened to Rachel, questioning if Rachel perhaps just abandoned her, similarly to how Max did.

She never got to resolve things with Max, never heard from her again. She never got to know that Max still loved her, still cared about her and thought of her, but was too scared and guilty to reach out.

She never got to patch up things with her mom, or with David.

Everything Max went through. Everything she experienced.

To recap:

Having to watch her best friend, the woman she loves, die over and over again, feeling helpless, trapped in this endless, hellish cycle of death.

Being lulled into a false sense of security, betrayed and abducted by someone she thought she could trust, someone she looked up to.

Witnessing firsthand Kate's suicide/attempt, feeling like she failed her.

Being forced to let William die again, and force Joyce and Chloe to suffer that loss again.

Having to watch Joyce mourn her only daughter, after already losing her husband. Knowing she could've prevented it.

Everything that happened would still exist, but only in Max's mind.

She has no one she could ever confide in, talk to, or open up about it.

Chloe, for her, was that person.

No one would believe her, albeit understandably.

It's implied her powers vanish after she goes back that final time to let Chloe die.

She'd have no way to prove her story was true.

Carrying the weight of that burden, that knowledge and trauma, alone, would drive anyone insane.

Feeling like everything she went through, all the efforts she made to keep Chloe alive, were pointless.

I don't believe there is any way Max could be okay after that.

She'd be a hollow shell, just going through the motions. Totally disconnected from the world and the people around her. (Understandably. Who the hell could she connect to? Who would understand her?) Everyone at Blackwell, and their student lives and petty drama would feel so insignificant. So incredibly stupid and shallow to Max after what she's been through.

In fact, I've always felt - years after the events of the game, were you to choose to let Chloe die - that Max likely killed herself.

Over time, she probably began to question herself, to feel crazy, and begin wondering whether any of what happened, actually did, or if it was just something her mind created.

Max's trauma, her thoughts and emotions in regards to all of this are reflected in this part of the game, her mental breakdown. You can see her self-loathing, the way she blames and criticizes herself, in her interactions with herself and in her distorted journal entries.

Anyway. I never really liked Max all that much as a protagonist.

I thought she was a pushover, a little shallow, cared too much about what people like Victoria thought of her. I thought it was pretty unforgivable the way she ghosted Chloe, at the most traumatic, formative time of Chloe's life, when she had just lost the most important person in her life, besides Max. I understand anxiety, feeling awkward, helpless and flailing in that situation and not knowing what to say or do to make it better, but it just doesn't matter to me. Nothing excuses that.

However…

Max, did ultimately (well, depending on your choice at the ending,) make it right.

This has given me some perspective, and I have a lot more empathy for her now.

     you thought you could control everybody and everything, huh?      —   twist time around your fingers?

[lovelettersfromluna]

Under Your Spell

summary: what’s that old saying? Best way to get over someone is to get under…..yeah yeah, we all know where this going, don’t we?

an: Hi! Long time no see, huh? I hope you’ve all been doing well! I’ve missed it here a lot, more than you could ever know. The semester is over, and I’m finally free! (For a little bit). College is very hard, and it took a lot of me this year, but let’s not get into that right now. This chapter has been VERY long awaited, and I am so sorry that it’s taken this long to get to you all. This one is pretty short, but not only did I want to get it out to you all in time, but I also have lots planned for the next chapter! (Luna you’re putting four parts into one of your fics???) I know I know, shocker right? Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this past despite it being short! Love you 🤍🤍🤍

warnings: MDNI!, 18+ fic only, slight smut, lots of angst, mean!Ellie, idiot!Ellie??, Abby’s in this one hehe, making out, drinking, let me know if I missed anything!

Part 1, Part 2

Sleeping in your bed had become extremely difficult.

It was like every time you laid your head against the soft pillows, your skin sliding against the soft material of your sheets, your brain would be filled with images of Ellie. The feeling of her lips on your throat, her hands on your hips, everything she’d given to you was permanently burned into your memory.

You couldn’t get away from her, no matter what you did.

You let out a soft sigh as you sat at your old desk, your cheek resting against your palm as your fingers traced along the smooth material of the wood. Things had gotten a lot trickier after your last night with Ellie, your mind clouded with confusion regarding the entire ordeal.

Ellie had….sought out for you. She definitely did the first time but there was something about her coming home from a night out, and slipping into your sheets that had your mind in shambles. It didn’t make any sense, you were sure that whatever happened between you and Ellie was a one off, something that was influenced mainly by alcohol and forced proximity. The played out story of the brother’s best friend ending up in a sticky situation with the younger sister. It was cliche, but it happened.

That didn’t change that it left your stomach in knots every time you heard the floorboards creak near Ellie’s room.

You’d done a pretty good job at avoiding her and the entire situation. It meant that you were in complete and total lockdown, even worse than before, however it saved any awkward tension, which you’d much rather trade for a few months of complete isolation.

But as all good things did, it was coming to an end.

Because you were given a choice, one that dangled your pride, and your social life in your face, forcing you to choose which you valued more.

Every summer, a huge party was thrown down at the beach. You and your brother joined as soon as you were old enough to drink, your parents went when they were younger, their parents went, and nearly everyone in your town experienced it at least once. It was like a tradition, one that every young person would look forward to.

It was one of your favorite parts about being home for the summer.

However, there wasn’t a party thrown in town that your brother and Ellie wouldn’t join.

And that’s where your choice came in.

You’d been going back and forth with yourself all week, weighing out the pros and the cons of it all. You knew that there were ways to get around her, to make sure that you wouldn’t see here while you were out there. To top it all off, you hated the idea of letting Ellie rip away one of your favorite things to do while you were home, giving her that much power didn’t make any sense to you.

But you still couldn’t push yourself to do it.

You swiveled your chair back and forth, staring up at your ceiling as you struggled to make a decision. However the clock was ticking, and the party was officially happening tonight. You didn’t have much time to go back and forth with yourself anymore.

It was either you swallow your pride, go out and enjoy yourself for the first time since everything happened with Ellie, ultimately standing up for yourself and sending her a big fuck you while doing so…

Or

You let her win. You sacrifice your time there and you let Ellie steal your time. You let her make a fool out of you by being too hung up on the very weird attention she’d been giving you, and you stay in your room for yet another night while everyone else is having the time of their lives.

Thinking of it that way didn’t leave you much of an option, did it?

You practically rip your room apart looking for the perfect outfit to wear, which ends up being a pink halter top that flows down a bit at the ends, a pair of your favorite denim shorts and your sneakers. By the time you’re finishing up your hair and your makeup, you hear the faint sound of your brothers minions showing up, pairing that with the music that starts playing leaves you to figuring they’re probably pregaming before they leave.

That’s when it starts feeling real.

You let out a deep sigh as you stare in the mirror, fixing your top over your chest before fluffing out your hair and fixing your lip gloss, giving yourself a gentle affirming nod before you push your phone into your back pocket and head downstairs.

A blanket of silence falls between Derek and his friends when they notice you, multiple sets of eyes zeroing in on you as you slip between your brother and one of his friends silently to pour a shot before throwing it back with ease. Hazels the first to comment on it.

“Awe man, I didn’t think the first grader could hang….you joining us tonight sweetie?” She taunts, her perfect teeth pressing down into her plush bottom lip as she stares at you, a challenging look in her eye.

Derek is the next one to speak up, a surprised look on his face as he stares down at you. “Wait…really? You’re coming with us?” He quips hopefully. Had Hazel kept her fucking mouth shut, you probably would’ve found the sentiment sweet from him.

You inhale deeply to calm yourself, staring down into the empty shot glass before you finally raise your eyes to look at Hazel, only to find her standing across the island, her back pressed into Ellie’s chest as her tattooed hands toy with the exposed skin of Hazel’s waist.

You completely ignore Ellie’s eyes burning holes into you.

“Shut the fuck up Hazel” you bite back before pouring another shot.

Your words earns reactions from the group instantly, even your brother chuckling softly as he gives you a proud smile. Hazel however, is not amused in the slightest.

Her poker face drops for a moment, nostrils flaring as she stares you down like she wants to jump over the table and have you for herself, but she quickly picks it up, giving you an impressed smirk before she nods slowly.

“Ahh so she speaks…my apologies sweetheart” she practically grits out before she lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Let’s go then. I don’t wanna be late” she quickly seethes out, pushing herself out of Ellie’s arms so she can grab her purse that was sitting on the couch.

You trail behind the others after your brother reassures you things will be okay, giving him a soft smile as you all pile into his car, ultimately missing the way Ellie’s eyes trail you the entire times

The car ride there feels nostalgic. The summer breeze turns cooler the closer you get to the familiar beach, your brother blasting his music in the front as you rest your head against the edge of the window, letting the wind blow through your hair.

It makes you wish things were different. The warmth in your chest would’ve paired so well with a better crowd, one that didn’t see you as the annoying little sister that tagged along when she really shouldn’t be.

Your mind takes you to an alternate reality where things are different, one where you get along with your brother’s friends. You wonder if they’d like you if they gave you the chance, if they weren’t predisposed to not liking you simply because you’re younger than them…

You wonder if things had been different, if you and Ellie could’ve been something.

Because clearly there’s attraction there, there had to be. Were you so wrong for even letting your brain wander there? Wondering what life would be like if you and Ellie were cordial, let alone experimenting with a relationship in a normal way, and not the way you’d been going on for this past summer.

What would it be like if she treated you the way she treated Hazel while others were around? What would it be like if you were in Hazel’s position? Propped up in Ellie’s lap while the others sang songs and joked around with each other?

You’d never know, because you were in this reality, not a perfect one.

You don’t even realize when your brother pulls up to the beach. The gentle shake of the car as his friends practically run out is what rips you away from your thoughts. You clear your throat as you make your way out once everyone is gone, brushing down your outfit as you make your way down the familiar path to the beach. The beach is blossoming with the sound of life. Loud music quickly surrounds you, people dancing, swimming, drinking, it’s almost so perfect it feels cliche, and that alone reminds you that you’d made the right decision by deciding to come out.

You’re the moth, and the ocean is your flame.

It draws you in closer as you sip the drink from your solo cup, appreciating the pattern of the tide rolling in, wetting the sand beneath it, only to then pull back out shortly after. It’s what you’d missed most about the beach in your home town, its ability to calm you no matter what was almost remarkable, even with the crowd of people around you.

You have to stop yourself from walking too far down the beach, knowing deep down that Derek’s friends would take any chance to ditch you while we’re oblivious to what was going on. It’s how you end up out on one of the piers, your legs dangling over the edge as you stare up at the moon, watching as the waves roll in while you sip on your drink.

There’s heavy footsteps along the wooden pier, ones that you don’t quite catch between the heavy sound of the waves, and the music nearby. It isn’t until a familiar voice rings in your ear that you realize you’re not alone.

“You know I heard you were back in town….but I thought there’s no way you’d come back without texting me first” the words come from behind you, and your eyes widen once you catch the tall frame standing over you.

Abby Anderson

She was one of your closest friends back in elementary school. It wasn’t nice to admit, but you’d drifted apart once you both got to high school. It was in the most natural way possible, but she always managed to stick around in your mind from time to time.

Before all of that, you two were stuck at the hip. It was a similar friendship to Ellie and your brother, the two of you always running through your house, causing many headaches for both your parents and her parents whenever you were both together.

You hadn’t seen Abby in years since you left for college, it’d been so long that you didn’t even realize how long it had been.

Her physique was quite the sign that time had passed though.

You gasp softly when you realize it’s her, quickly pushing yourself up off the pier to push yourself into her already opened arms.

“I didn’t know you came back for the summer…god it’s been so long” you sigh out against her broad shoulders, the sweet smell of her perfume filling your nose as you let your eyes flutter shut, relishing in the feeling of her strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“You’d know if you thought to hit me up once in a while” she teases. You can hear the smirk in her voice as she keeps you close. It makes you giggle softly as you finally pull away from her, wanting to get a good look at the girl.

She’s just as pretty as you remember. Abby always had the prettiest blonde hair, and the most charming smile. Those were never things that you failed to notice about your friend, however she’s different now. She’s taller, her build a hell of a lot more stronger than when you were in elementary school, her hair longer and tucked into a thick braid…

You have to stop yourself from staring.

She peers down into your cup, noticing that you were getting empty. She nods her head towards the bonfire before speaking.

“Let’s top you up while you tell me alllll about your life in the big city, yeah?” She offers, to which you dumbly nod to as you follow next to her almost obediently.

After that, the two of you were glued to the hip the entire night. Between catching up on what life had brought the two of you within your adult years, and reminiscing over your time as kids, the world could be burning around the both of you and you two wouldn’t have noticed a thing. For the first time since you’d came home, you had finally found someone to spend time with.

And Ellie notices the entire thing.

Her eyes were on you the entire night. From the moment you came downstairs at the house, it was like she was under some fucked up spell that made it so she couldn��t function unless you were in her line of view. She couldn’t count on her hands how many annoyed sighs she received when her friends realized she wasn’t listening to what they were saying, instead busying herself with figuring out where the hell you were.

She tracked you like she was the predator, and you were her prey. She made sure you didn’t stray too far away from the group, made sure you didn’t do something stupid like strip naked to take a quick dip into the cold ocean. She was just being helpful! It wasn’t like she felt her mouth go dry every time it looked like someone was going to approach you….

And its like fate was on your side that night, because the moment Abby approached you at the dock, Hazel was settling herself into Ellie’s lap, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck and ultimately blocking you from her view completely.

The next time she does get a chance to see you again, you’re wrapped up in none other than Abby Anderson’s arms.

It’s just her luck, isn’t it? That out of every girl in your small beachside town, you choose that fucking idiot. You choose the girl that everyone knows to be Ellie’s sworn fucking enemy since forever. The only explanation is that you’re doing this on purpose. You know exactly what to do to get under Ellie’s skin. You did it when you were flirting with Jesse right in front of her, you did it when you kicked her out of your bedroom the last time you two were together, and you were doing it right fucking now by getting all cozy with Abby fucking Anderson.

So of course, she has to try and stop this.

But Ellie soon realizes that she spends way too much time mentally dwelling over this, and accusing you of something she knew deep down was very much out of character for you, because the second her eyes search for the two of you, she’s met with something she can only assume was pulled out of her worst nightmare.

You and Abby hand in hand as she helps you into her car.

Ellie is quick to push Hazel off her lap, her eyes now frantically searching for your brother. Once she spots him, she’s interrupting his conversation the moment she opens her mouth.

“Hey man…have you um….do know where your sisters going right now?” She asks almost out of breath, her eyes shifting quickly between Derek and Abby’s truck as she pulls out of her spot in the parking lot.

Your brother raises his eyebrows as he looks back to where you are in the girls car, nodding as he takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah, she just came and told me her friend is gonna take her home” he explains casually with a shrug before he tries to turn back to his conversation.

Ellie scoffs in disbelief at his casual tone, her hand reaching forward to grab his shoulder and turn him around to face her again.

“Friend? Did you even see who she was leaving with?” Her voice is laced with worry and distress as she complains to your brother, the man oblivious to Ellie’s frantic demeanor.

“Wasn’t it just Abby? They’ve been friends forever…I honestly don’t trust anyone other than that girl. Have you seen her fucking arms? I think my sister is in good hands with her” he chuckles softly as he gives Ellie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Between his words and his reaction to the entire thing, Ellie feels like she’s going to lose her fucking mind.

Her green eyes go wide as she stares at your brother before she gives a laugh of disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s just Abby? As in Abby fucking Anderson? Are we talking about the same girl here? Or are you suffering from fucking brain damage?” She snaps back.

Her wild eyes and mean words take your brother back, his playful laughter dying down once he realizes that he friend is quite literally tweaking over the fact that you’ve left with the girl that he knew she had some beef with.

“Woah…calm down man. It’s just my sister, your beef with Anderson doesn’t really have anything to do with her…she’ll be fine” he tries to assure her once more, his tone softening to calm his friend.

This does nothing though. It makes Ellie pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she shakes her head. “Give me your keys” she demands with her palm out, pushed towards him.

Derek furrows his brows in confusion. “What? Are you seriously going to-“ he’s quickly cut off by Ellie, stopping him from finishing his question.

“Give me your fucking keys Derek. I’m not letting that asshole get it in with your sister” she finally admits, her words making your brothers eyes go wide with realization, finally seeing the situation for what it really was.

He inhales deeply before he reaches into his pocket and finally places his keys into his friends hand without another word, biting back the smirk that threatened to grace his lips.

He always thought Ellie’s animosity towards you was weird, but he never thought it would mean this all along.

She doesn’t even notice, the girl quickly taking the keys and mumbling a small ‘thanks’ as she jogs up the path to the parking lot to jump into your brothers car, and race home.

Meanwhile at your house, Abby was showing you quite the time.

It didn’t take long for you two to give into the tension that had settled the moment she picked you up from the dock. One moment you were toying with the little loose hairs falling from her braid and framing her face, and the next you were tugging her up to your bedroom and locking the door behind you.

Her hands were all over you, caressing your body as her knee began grinding into your core, her lips swallowing up your moans as you clung to her desperately, chasing your high as if your life depended on it.

The feeling of Abby against you cleared Ellie out of your head almost immediately. You weren’t worried about her or the mean things she’d said to you, or the nasty way she’d treated you after getting what she wanted from you. What once was a bed that you could barely sleep in without thinking of her was now filled with the feeling of Abby, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Ellie realizes she’s too late when she pulls into your driveway to see Abby’s truck is still there, and she has to stop herself from ripping your brothers car door off when she gets out and slams it closed. There’s still something in her that hopes this is all innocent, that you didn’t really do the unthinkable and take Abby Anderson home to spite her. She hopes that the sweet side of you has taken the moral high ground, that you’ve gone to bed like the good girl she knows you are and Abby just happened to walk home and leave her car in your driveway.

So when she’s jogging on the stairs after frantically searching for you downstairs, hoping that she’ll find you sound asleep in your bed, her blood practically runs cold when her hand wraps around your doorknob…

And she can make out the familiar sounds of your moans through your door, paired with Abby’s words of encouragement to go with it.

[cognitiveoverload]

The secret is out (Aaron Hotchner x fem!BAU!reader)

summary: You and Hotch have been dating for half a year in secret. When the team decides it's time to help Spencer ask you out during the Christmas dinner you host for them, Hotch realizes that it might be time to tell the truth.

note: Takes place after Hotch's divorce, but before Haley's death.

The whole Christmas dinner is the result of a chain reaction. You invited Penelope, who invited Derek, who invited Spencer, who invited JJ, who invited Emily, who invited Dave, and finally, Dave invited Hotch. And to make things worse, this time there is a plan—the plan to help Spencer make the first move and finally ask you out. 

When Dave tells Hotch about it in the car on the way to the dinner, he smiles and acts like it’s adorable. Normally, it would be exactly that. They all love Spencer, they all want him to be happy, but considering Hotch only left your apartment this morning, he isn’t the right person to ask for help with this. This only makes him wonder if you should make your relationship official, if you should tell the team that the two of you have been seeing each other for over half a year now. 

“The early birds,” you say with a warm smile when you open the door and let them inside.

Dave glances down at his watch for a brief moment, then, as he walks past you, he speaks up. “I guess it means we’re the first ones.” When you hum in agreement, he stops and turns to look at the other man. “I told you we’re gonna be way too early.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to tell him it wasn’t his idea to come together. He’s here exactly when he wanted to arrive, it’s not his fault that Dave decided to tag along. With a forced smile, he shrugs and shows you the two bottles of wine he brought as a gift. “Is there a wine cooler somewhere?” he asks casually.

You close the closet where you put their coats, then turn back to nod. “My parents love wine, so of course they have one,” you reply with a short laugh. “Not like they were alcoholics, they just… you know.” Hotch has to fight hard to keep his emotions in check, but you notice. You always notice. “Oh, sure, I’ll lead the way,” you say, signaling him to follow you. 

Since you made sure Dave was occupied with the photos in the living room, you quickly take the bottles from Hotch to put them in the cooler, then return to him with a seductive smile. “I missed you.” He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours as he speaks, knowing perfectly well this most probably makes your heart rate jump. “I’m sorry, Dave insisted on coming with me.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a loving smile.

These are one of those rare occasions when Hotch can loosen up, getting lost in the moment, so he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap and kiss you gently, letting his arm sneak around your waist as he pulls you closer. He knows he has to warn you, and he knows you should know how he feels about that plan, but it’s so good to have you like this again. You’re like a drug, and he loves the high you give him, and each time he tastes your lips, he just knows you should make your relationship official.

As stupid as it is, he wants to let everyone know that you’re his, he wants to mark his territory, and if he has to face the wrath of his team for hiding something like this, so be it. Because whenever he sees you interact with his son, he knows this is what he wants, and not just with Jack, but with a child that’s yours entirely. This is what’s been on his mind lately, and the thought is driving him crazy.

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” he speaks up as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

But before he could go on, you hear Dave clear his throat in the door, and when you both turn to look at him, he’s watching you with a knowing smile. “I wanted to tell Hotch we left the gifts in the car, but I guess I’ll bring them in myself since he’s busy at the moment,” he announces teasingly. 

Hotch lets you go and takes a step closer to his colleague. “Dave, I can explain,” he says, knowing he should give an explanation. After all, he’s your boss, you’re a lot younger, and he just agreed to help Spencer ask you out a good half an hour ago. It probably doesn’t look good from the outside. 

Smiling, Dave shoves his hands into his pockets. “No need to explain, I’ve seen enough. The best you can do now is laying your cards on the table when we’re all together. Spencer really likes her, and tonight everyone will be doing their best to get them together. Just be honest,” he tells the two of you, then turns around to leave the house.

You wrap your arms around his body and bury your face into his chest, and he lets out a sigh before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “He’s right, we need to tell them,” he says softly, leaning back just enough to look you in the eye. 

“Okay,” you agree weakly. 

For a few moments you watch him with those big, doe eyes, which brings back his earlier thoughts. “There’s something I want to tell you before Dave returns,” he begins, his voice carrying the kind of uncertainty and vulnerability that he only allows to have around you. When you hum to make him continue, he exhales slowly to prepare himself. “I would like to have another child. With you.”

At first, you don’t react at all, as if the statement completely froze your brain. But then you slowly blink at him, your lips slightly parting as you take a breath. “A baby?” you ask quietly, earning a nod in response. 

“I know we haven’t been together for that long, but I know that I love you. Sure, we don’t have to start the baby project right away, I understand if you’re not ready,” he assures you.

A sweet smile slowly appears on your lips as you stand on your toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you too, Aaron. And maybe having a little kid together isn’t such a bad idea,” you say kindly. But then the sweet smile shifts into a wicked one. “Can you stay the night? I hate to be alone in this stupidly big house, and I think I’ll be too lazy to drive home after dinner.” 

There’s something else, something you’re not telling him, and it takes him a moment to realize what it is. “Oh, wait, you mean…? Tonight?” he asks, unable to hide the confusion that slowly mixes with excitement. 

With an adorable giggle, you take his hand and lace your fingers. “Why not? Unless you have better plans,” you add, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“If you’re serious about this, I won’t have better plans until we have a positive test,” he states before kissing you again.

“I think they’re looking for glasses in the kitchen.”

Hotch is quick to step away from you, grateful that Dave gave you a chance to find an excuse for being there alone. So, without much hesitation, you point at a cabinet and then move to another where your parents keep the coffee mugs. He takes out enough glasses for everyone, then heads to the dining room with them. He can see JJ and Dave discussing something, and she flashes a smile at him when their eyes meet.

“She’s in the kitchen?” JJ asks him, to which he replies with a nod. “I’ll see if she needs more help then.”

When she disappears, Hotch stands in front of Dave with an uncertain look on his face. “Thanks for the warning. We discussed this whole thing, and we’ll tell the team once everyone’s here. This is for the best,” he says. 

The other man lets out a short breath with an amused smile, but he doesn’t say a word–not yet. But then, at the moment they hear a car stopping, followed by the sound of a cheerful conversation, he finally opens his mouth to speak. “You’ll have to talk to HR about this.” Hotch nods. He’s painfully aware of that conversation. “But you both look happy, and if you’re both happy, I’m happy too.”

A sigh of relief escapes his lips upon hearing this. It’s good. You have at least one person in your corner. 

Within a matter of seconds the remaining guests appear, smiling happily as they balance the wrapped gifts in their hands. Once the newcomers settle down, Hotch shepherds everyone into the living room, deciding that this is the perfect time to make the announcement, before the little schemers set their plan into motion. You look a little uncertain, but he doesn’t want to let you feel like that. He stands next to you, but he avoids physical contact for now. 

“There’s something I wanted to tell you all before we sit down to eat up all the food our generous host prepared,” he begins, and out of the corner of his eye he can see you roll your eyes. “You know me, you know I usually respect the regulations, but a few months ago I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret it, and I don’t want to stop after this conversation we’re having now. I just wanted you to all know that we started to date a few months ago,” Hotch says as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

Surprise, surprise, a little more surprise, and then there’s the look of betrayal on Spencer’s face. He avoids your gaze, and he doesn’t look at his boss either, but that’s okay, he didn’t expect him to start cheering. This might be tough for him, but he’ll get over it for sure. But the others soon turn supportive; they start to tease them, they come up with jokes, and some even begin to dig deeper to get some more details out of you two. You quickly loosen up enough to answer them, but Hotch doesn’t let you do the talking alone, he’s staying by your side the whole time to support you. 

You’re a little team of two now. Hopefully, you’ll be the mother of his youngest child in the future. It’s his duty to always protect you.

[monstersflashlight]

Advent calendar: Day 20. Misfortunes and Sexullus Phallicus

A/N: This one is about Miss Santa, and let’s say she’s a holiday witch, to make it easier. Also this is very ridiculous and I love it, if it makes you cringe… I’m sorry (but not really). Enjoy! And happy Christmas Eve to those who celebrate!

Miss Santa x fem!reader || magic, sex pollen, dub-con, pegging, sex toys, dirty talk (kinda)

When you started dating Miss Santa, you weren’t expecting to be as many problems as there were. You expected it to be hard, because not everyday you started dating a magical being that could teleport and conjure shit out of thin air, but dang if it wasn’t even worse than you expected.

First week dating, you accidentally activated a magic spell that made all elves lose the holiday spirit for a whole day. Which didn’t seem too bad, but then you had to watch how mad they were when they had to work extra hard to recover that lost day of work. You apologized so many times the word lost its meaning.

When you were dating for a bit over a month, you accidentally sent the big dude (aka Klaus himself) a picture of you wearing only a red hat and two pom-poms… (Yeah, strategically placed.) You had to apologize to him, too, much to his amusement and your girlfriend’s dismay.

But the misfortunes didn’t end there.

You were visiting her in the office, looking around as she finished the paperwork for the day, when you saw a weird looking plant. “What kind of plant is this?” You asked, leaning in and inhaling deeply.

She looked up instantly. “Don’t smell tha-” She warned, but it was too late. “You smelled it.” She sighed, face palming as she stared at you. “What am I going to do with you?” She asked rhetorically.

“What?” You looked at her, confused and blinking slowly. Your brain felt a bit fuzzy. “What did I do now?”

“You inhaled the pollen of the Sexullus Phallicus,” she said as if that explained everything. You looked at her puzzled, expecting more information. “Sex pollen, my love, you inhaled sex pollen,” she said, sighing again and looking completely done with you. But the tiny smile at the corner of her lips reassured you a little.

“What’s going to happen to me now?” You asked, a bit confused, but most of all, a bit scared.

“You are going to get incredibly horny, and you’d be insatiable for a few days.” That didn’t sound too bad. Don’t look at me like that. It is bad. You are going to be needing to be filled constantly.” You smirked, liking the sound of that. “Sometimes I don’t know why I put up with you,” she added, all dramatic.

“Because you love me,” you sing-song-ed at her, smiling big. She tried to hide a mirroring smile, but she failed.

“We are in so much trouble,” she lamented a second later, picking up all the papers she was working on and stacking them in a neat pile. “We need to prepare, we need to move. We might not have enough time to get home…” She was panicking.

“Relaaaax, I’m all fine,” you told her, your hands fanning your suddenly too hot face. And then the pain started. “FUCK.”

She looked up instantly, staring at you and teleporting to your side in less than a blink. “What? What happened?”

“It hurts. It hurts,” you repeated over and over, falling to the ground and adopting a fetal position.

She looked anxious, her face turning a light shade of green. “What hurts, my love? Tell me so I can help.” She kept fussing over you, her hands hovering over your body because she wasn’t sure where to touch you.

“My pussy. I need you to touch my pussy,” you said between pants, your thighs rubbing together but providing no relief at all.

She choked on a breath, and you caught her almost laughing, but the frown on her beautiful face never left. “I gotcha, I gotcha… Don’t worry my love, we’ll get thru this. I’ll fuck you until you are so drained you can’t even blink without thinking about my cock.” Her words made you whimper. You want that. You want her cock.

“Please, Santa, please… I need your cock,” you begged, squirming on the floor, reaching for her and pulling her head down until you could kiss her lips softly.

The moment she snapped her fingers, she was naked and had a harness appeared around her narrow hips. Your heart was beating a thousand miles per minute. “Now, now… Who has been a naughty girl this year?” She asked, teasingly. You almost wanted to laugh at the silly pun, but your pussy was so wet and your clit so needy, that you could only whimper. “Sorry, sorry, my love. You know I joke when I’m nervous,” she apologized. “Are you ready?” She questioned either way, always worried about you.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chanted. She snapped her fingers again and your clothes disappeared. You sighed in relief as she moved over you and positioned her purple dick over your clenching pussy. “Please, Santaaa…” You begged again.

“Whatever you desire, my love,” she whispered. She leaned down to kiss you deeply as her hips thrust forward until she was buried as deep as possible.

“Is not enough, not enough, not enough…” You shook your head from side to side, your body tensing under hers.

“Shit, okay. Okay.” She snapped her fingers again, and you felt your pussy filled to the brim, making you scream her name as you tried to wriggle your hips to get it deeper. “This size better?” You nodded vehemently, grabbing her by the hair and pulling strongly until she whined and started to fuck you with intent.

“More, more, more… Santa, more!” You kept telling her, as she puffed and huffed as she tried to go as deep and fast as possible. She was thrusting so hard your body was moving across the floor of her office, your hands scratching her back until you smelled blood.

It was glorious.

Your first orgasm was earth shattering, and you screamed her name so loud you were sure the big man heard you all across the north pole. But you didn’t care. All the world could be listening and you’d be chanting your love and adoration for her cock for them to hear.

But she didn’t stop. And you didn’t ask her to. You needed more. You needed all. So she kept pounding into you until you came, and came, and came again.

Her strength was starting to flatter after your fifth orgasm, but you still hadn’t had enough. So you flipped her over and started riding her with desperation. She was flushed and sweaty, her hair stuck to her face and her eyes glassy after such an effort. She’d never looked so hot.

At some point, she teleported you to your house, her dick never leaving your hungry pussy. It lasted three days, and she had to make you eat and drink as she kept you full of cock, using special enchanted dildos that kept fucking you even when she left for the bathroom.

By the time it ended, you’d never felt so well fucked in your life. She would never know that you did it on purpose, and you were the one who sent the plant to her…

A/N: Thank y’all for joining me for this Advent Calendar, it’s been so fun to write: I explored some kinks, wrote weird monsters, and overall I think it was a very fun experience, let me know what y’all thought.

[arixella]

Hello~ I was wondering if you could do a continuation of 'you don't tell them you're hurt' with the members of Cross Guild 🙏🙏🙏

Of courseee I can doo! This one was fun to make!

You get hurt and don't tell them pt.4 ' ft. crocodile, mihawk, buggy

wc: 440 a/n: not proof read luffy, zoro, sanji law, ace, sabo shanks, kid, killer

Crocodile

-Crocodile isn’t the type to fuss, but he’s sharp, and you’re not getting away with hiding an injury from him.

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” His voice is calm but carries a dangerous edge, as if daring you to lie to him.

-Once you admit it, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Reckless. Don’t waste my time trying to hide things like this.”

-He handles the situation with cold efficiency, ensuring you’re patched up without much fuss. However, his hands are surprisingly gentle, and he makes sure you’re as comfortable as possible.

-Afterward, he lectures you in his usual gruff tone. “There’s no pride in pretending you’re invincible. You can rely on me.”

-While Crocodile may seem cold, his actions betray his concern. You catch him casually checking on you later, making sure you’re healing properly without drawing attention to it.

-If someone else caused the injury, they’re as good as dead. Crocodile doesn’t make a scene—he just ensures they disappear without a trace. “No one touches what’s mine and walks away.”

-He might not say it out loud, but his subtle protectiveness speaks volumes about how much he cares.

Dracule Mihawk

-Mihawk is impossibly observan, so the second you try to hide an injury, he catches on with an arched brow.

“Hiding something from me? That’s unwise.” His tone is calm but piercing, like he’s already read your mind.

-He examines your injury with precision, his touch light but firm. “You’re fortunate it’s not worse. Carelessness doesn’t suit you.”

-Mihawk insists on personally treating you, pulling out an extensive first-aid kit you didn’t even know he had. “A blade is only as effective as the one wielding it. You should take better care of yourself.”

-Afterward, he pours you a glass of wine and insists you rest, staying close by with his usual composed demeanor. “I won’t tolerate unnecessary risks, especially from you.”

-Though he doesn’t openly fuss, Mihawk keeps a sharp eye on you for days afterward, ensuring you don’t push yourself. His silent care speaks louder than words.

-If the injury was caused by someone else, Mihawk’s cold fury is unmatched. “I’ll handle it,” he says, and you know he means it.

Buggy the Clown

-Buggy doesn’t notice at first, but when he finally realizes you’re hurt, he absolutely freaks out.

“What?! You’re hurt?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” His voice is loud enough to make everyone turn their heads, drawing unnecessary attention.

-He rushes to your side, flailing dramatically and overreacting as usual. “Do I need to call a doctor? Am I supposed to do something?! What if it’s fatal?!”

-Once he calms down (sort of), Buggy genuinely tries his best to help, though his methods are questionable. “Here, let me tie this… uh… is that supposed to be bleeding?”

-Despite his antics, Buggy stays by your side the entire time, even shooing his crew away to make sure you rest. “Don’t you dare move until you’re better, you hear me?!”

-He constantly checks on you, asking a million questions like, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Do you need anything?” His concern is over-the-top but heartfelt.

-If someone else caused the injury, Buggy flips from dramatic to angry clown mode. He may not be the strongest, but his crew will make sure payback is served. “Nobody messes with my crew—or you!”

-Later, he’s back to his usual self, teasing you about being “so clumsy” while secretly keeping a close watch to make sure you’re really okay.

♡♡♡

[your-hockey-mom]

I'm sick and could really use a sweet quinn moment

help? 🤢😩

1:33am.

Quinn lay in bed, in the awkward in between sleep and awake state where everything feels like a dream. He rolls over to find you, however the space where you should be is empty and cold. Not even the lingering hint of your body heat left is behind. How long have you been gone?

"Baby?" He calls out, groggy and with eyes still closed.

When he doesn't get an answer, he sits up in bed and checks his phone for the time. Maybe it was way later than he thought and you had just gotten an early morning for once. Out of character for you, especially when he wasn't on the road, but it was always a possibility. Though, when he reads it's half-past-one in the morning, Quinn knows something must be wrong.

"Babe?" He calls out again, once he's out in the hallway. Still nothing. He's drawn to the living room and the fact that the TV is on but the sofa is empty. "Baby, are you okay? Where are you?"

His heart is beginning to quicken in pace; he's now completely awake given the dread washing over him like ice water. When Quinn turns to look back towards the direction of the bedroom, he sees the sliver of light from the cracked bathroom door. As he approaches, he sees something on the floor, jammed between the door and its facing. It's a blanket. ("Odd," he thinks.)

"Sweetheart? Are you alright?" Quinn gives a couple light knocks to the door yet there's still no response. "Hello?"

He pushes the door open to find you curled up on the bathroom floor. You were shivering as you laid on the cold tile; the blanket too far from reach to give you comfort. An hour ago, you felt nauseous and had left the comfort of Quinn's bedroom. Back and forth from the bathroom to the sofa you had paced, just not sure if and when you'd actually be sick, but you didn't want to risk it. The last trip down the hallway you had dragged a blanket with you around your shoulders. That's when the worse feeling of losing all your groceries had punched you in the gut. You didn't walk this time, there was a silent urgency to hurry. The blanket had been discarded as the door closed behind you.

"Oh, baby! What's wrong?" Quinn says quietly as he kneels beside you. His hand brushes hair from your face as he frowns. He never likes to see you sick, but there's something different about seeing you like this. "Let's get you up off the floor, okay?"

You clench your eyes closed, embarrassed that he's found you this way but you have no strength to fight him. He pulls you to a seated position before picking you up in his arms. "Want to go back to bed?"

"No," you mumble, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

"Okay, okay. That's fine."

Quinn carries you back to the living room, knowing you probably didn't want to go back to the bed for fear that you'd wake him up if you had another episode. You're still trembling in his arms when he sits down on the sofa, still holding you tightly.

"Want me to stay with you?"

"No."

"No?" He asks, confused. "You don't want me to stay?"

"You need to go to bed. You have a game tonight. I'm fine." Your voice was small; like every word took so much strength to say.

"I've a long time till I have to worry about that. Right now, I want to know that you're alright."

You had nothing to say. You didn't want him to see you like this but it was too late.

"C'mon, I'll lay down with you right here. "

"Quinny..."

"Shh, I want to."

The white linen sectional really was comfortable and perfect for laying in your boyfriend's arms, sick or not. Quinn propped himself up in the L-bend, the cushions compressing into his weight. You had mustered the last of your strength to shift your weight to lay between his legs, your head on his chest. He was comforting and warm though the cold chills still refused to leave you.

"Let's cover you up, princess," Quinn cooed, pulling a throw over your exposed skin. His fingers dragged through your hair in a soothing rhythm hoping something he was doing would help. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No." You pull the blanket up over your face. "But thank you." Your words muffled beneath the fabric.

Even though you felt awful, you still managed to bring a smile to his face, doing unintentionally cute things without trying. "You're welcome, baby. Get some rest okay? If you need anything, just tell me, and I'll do what I can."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He'd hold you the whole night; his fingers still tangled in your hair come morning. His heartbeat had lulled you to sleep; his body heat soothed any discomfort your body had held on to. You wouldn't have any more nauseous episodes, which you were most thankful for. Even Quinn managed restful sleep, his gentle snoring barely heard over the TV.

[littleslaywrites]

joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader

summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning

word count: 1.1k

cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)

The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder. 

You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives. 

It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test. 

“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in. 

“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”

“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness. 

You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. 

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention. 

“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room. 

That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor. 

“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.

“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together. 

“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test. 

“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”

You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you. 

The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words. 

Pregnant

“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.

“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.

Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”

That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers. 

“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs. 

“What is it?” he says. 

You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”

You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest. 

He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front. 

You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.

“Completely serious.”

He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces. 

“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his. 

“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”

Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”

“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react. 

The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before. 

“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”

“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”

He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering. 

“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think. 

Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment. 

Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case. 

Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind. 

“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.

author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!

[spatialwave]

Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons

➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce’s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.

When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.

Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)

Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you. 

When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.

However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.

Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited. 

Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.

Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.

He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.

Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.

He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.

You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.

He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.

Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.

Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world. 

As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.

But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.

[paige1722]

Silent Night

Summary: It is Christmas time in your village. The weather has taken a drastic turn, and everyone fears that the blizzard will never end. The people become desperate and willing to take any measures necessary to save themselves, even if it means sacrificing one of their own to a once-forgotten demon. 

Pairing: Krampus!Konig x GN!Reader

Warnings: Krampus, death, google translated German, violence. 

Merry Christmas!!! If you want to read an alternative version where the reader gets revenge, it’s here.

The village you call home resides in the middle of the forest, a few day's journey from the nearest town. This usually means nothing really exciting ever happens here; everyone knew one another, and nothing stayed a secret for long. This year, things had been different. The weather grew colder earlier than normal, the fields did not produce much food, and the hunting expeditions proved to be unsuccessful, with only being able to get small game, such as rabbits and squirrels.

The blizzard that came to the town a week ago did not seem to be lessening in strength; in fact, you even believe that it was getting worse with every passing day.  As you looked out of the window of your small cottage near the center of town, where you would usually be able to see your neighbors, the bakery, and the church in the middle of the town. But with the blizzard, you could barely even see your small garden in front of your doorstep that is now destroying your precious plants, and all the hard work you put into it over the spring and summer. The harsh wind caused the window panes to groan, and the snow kept piling up more and more. You wager that pretty soon, it will be impossible to leave your cottage. 

If it wasn’t for the small fireplace keeping your cottage cozy and warm all this time you are sure you would have already frozen to death in this horrible winter. A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. Wondering who would be at your door so early in the morning, especially in this weather. Making your way to the front door, you open it to see Philip, the assistant to the village leader; opening the door more, he quickly makes his way inside after kicking off the snow from his boots. Once inside, he makes his way towards your fireplace placing his hand in front of the fire, trying to gain some feeling back into his joints. 

“Philip, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” you asked, closing the door behind him and moving to stand in the middle of your living room. 

He turns around, placing his hands around his back to keep them in front of the fire; you are now able to get a better look at him. He looks thin, sickly almost. The food shortage must really be taking a toll on him, his face is unshaven, and his once nice thick animal fur coat has seen better days as it looks to have been ripped apart in some places and hastily sewn back together, surely a child you have done a better job fixing his jacket. 

“Yes, I have been tasked with letting everyone know that at noon today, there will be an emergency village meeting in the church. It is mandatory for everyone to be in attendance.” 

You feel your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. There had not been an emergency meeting called ever since you were a little child, and there had been a huge wildfire that nearly destroyed the entire village; a lot of lives were lost that day. “Oh, okay. By any chance, do you know what the meeting will be about?” 

At your innocent question, Philip squints his eye, looking at you up and down suspiciously, clenching his jaw and taking quick steps towards you. He points an accusatory finger in your face, causing you to step back at his fast approach. “It does not matter what the meeting is about. You are required to be in attendance, understand?” 

Your back hit the wall separating the living room from the kitchen; setting your hands flat against the wall to your back, you nod your head in shock, confused as to why he is acting this way. Philip was usually a kind man, not quick to anger. This was a different side of him you had never seen before and did not want to see again. “Yes, I will be there,” you reply in a shaky voice, startled by the sudden mood shift. 

Suddenly, like the drop of a hat, he steps back from you, smoothing down his jacket and giving you one of his signature smiles. Chuckling, Philip walks back toward the front door, his hand on the door handle when he looks back over his shoulder over at you, where you are still pressed up against the wall. “I look forward to seeing you at the meeting then,” he winks as he opens the door, letting himself out back into the cold. 

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you had been holding, unsure why he was acting so strange. What does it matter if you were not going to attend the meeting? Though with his reaction at the thought that you were not going had him acting like that, you fear to think of what he would actually do if you failed to make an appearance. Not to mention, you are very curious as to the details of this emergency meeting; perhaps it was about food rations or the never-ending blizzard. You walk into your kitchen, planning to fix yourself a small breakfast, as you retrieve what little bread you had left from the bakery and some jam; this would have to do you until supper time after the meeting. The rations you were given earlier in the week dwindling faster than you would have liked. Sitting at the small table in the kitchen, you enjoy your breakfast, again thinking about the strange encounter with Philip and his sudden change in attitude and demeanor. After finishing your bread with jam, you decide to do some chores around your house to waste time until noon.  

—----

You glance at the small hand-carved clock on your wall. Seeing that it is a quarter past eleven, you make your way to your front door, putting on the thickest coat you own, your gloves, and winter boots. Opening the door and closing it behind you, you wrap your coat tightly around you, pulling up the collar to cover the bottom half of your face as you venture down the snow-covered stone path that leads throughout the village. You see your neighbors already making their way inside the church. Two men stand outside wrapped in thick fur jackets and hats, each holding lanterns to light the path to the church, a way to help people see through the thick snow falling from the sky. You trudge through the thick snow, carefully walking up the ice-covered steps to the entrance. The two men, who you now recognize as Simon and Johnny, who are the town’s butchers, open the massive doors. You mumble a quick thank you to the men and make your way inside the warm church. Not noticing the sympathetic look they send your way as you walk past them.

Looking around the massive sanctuary, a long line of lit candles operas on either side of the pew give the room an almost eerie glow. You realize you are one of the last villagers to arrive, seeing as most of the pews are already filled to the brim with people waiting for the meeting to start. You decide to sit in the back where there is still a little bit of space left, sitting next to one of your more elderly neighbors, you give a small smile in greeting, not having interacted with them much before. You take off your thick jacket and hang it on the back of the pew you were sitting on, and continue looking around the room. At the front, standing in front of the pulpit, stands Philip Graves, talking in hushed tones to the village leader, Shepherd. They look to be arguing, judging by the looks on their faces. Philip turns his head, looking near the door, when he makes eye contact with you, but instead of acknowledging you as he normally would in passing, he turns back to Shepherd, whispering in his ear, both of them now looking more relaxed than they were just mere seconds ago, another strange occurrence happening today, something in the air you supposed. 

The front doors slamming closed behind you cause you to jump a bit, turning around in your seat to see Johnny and Simon standing inside the church, placing the lanterns on the golden hooks on either side of the doors. Instead of finding a seat in the room, they move to stand in front of the doors, reminding you of guards to a prison cell. A throat clearing causes you to turn your attention back to the front of the church, where Shepherd now stands behind the podium with Philip by his side.

“Thank you all so much for joining us today for this emergency meeting. We know that things have been tough this year with the lack of game and crops and now this never-ending blizzard. But fear not, your village leader and others have come up with a solution that will surely save us all from this torment.” 

Applause erupts throughout the church at this news. For some reason, you feel a sense of dread overcome you at this news. Something about this whole situation does not sit right with you. Why is Philip staring at you so intensely? Why was it so important that you come to this meeting, and why are Simon and Johnny blocking the exit like that? All these questions run through your head, causing you to break out into a cold sweat. Shepherd once again starts talking, making everyone stop their applause. 

“Now, I know you all must be wondering as to what the solution to our problem is. Philip and I have been scouring the old texts, trying to find anything that might be of help to save our village from this ongoing turmoil. After a many sleepless nights, we finally came across this.” 

Philip holds up an old leather-bound book with a small bell engraved on the front; the pages look worn and old, as if it hasn’t been used in decades. Placing the book down in front of Shepherd, who continues his speech, “In this book, we discovered a chapter that describes exactly the events that are taking place before us today: no food, endless winter that ends in nothing but death for all of us unless we act now! This book tells of an ancient being, whose name shall not be uttered here, that is the cause of all this. Apparently, we have managed to anger him last Christmas during our festivities, and he is now taking it out on us. To appease his wrath, we must give him an offering. There was a list of rules that must be followed or else the offering will not work and just invoke more devastation upon us. After careful consideration, there is only one person who fulfills the demands.” 

Shepherd locks eyes with you, you feel your heart pounding in your chest, the room suddenly becomes too hot, sweat beads down your face. You see his mouth moving, but you can hear nothing over the ringing in your ears. Everyone in the conjugation is now staring at you, waiting for what you aren’t sure. Stumbling, you stand up, still facing the front of the church, and slowly begin backing up towards the door, but before you can make a run for it, hands wrap around your arms on both sides looking to see who has you in their grasp; you see Simon and Johnny with solemn looks on their faces. They begin dragging you to the front of the church. You try to pull your arms from their grip, but is it no use; kicking your feet, trying anything to free yourself,  tears flow freely from your eyes. You look around at the people of your village pleading with them hoping that someone, anyone, will help you, but as you make eye contact with the people you grew up with they simply turned their heads looking down at the ground a guilty expression on their faces. Reaching the front of the church, Philip grabs you from the grip of the two butchers; Simon whispers an solem apology in your ear as they hand you over to your inevitable demise. 

Your back is pressed against Philips's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you in place. He rests his chin on your head, “Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal once the demon has his offering! Return to your homes and await the glorious rewards that will be gifted upon us all!” He yells out, his chest rumbling against your back. You let out a whimper. as you watch everyone slowly rise from their seats and make their way toward the entrance of the church, leaving you with Shepherd and Philip. “Please don’t do this, there must be another way!!” you yell out desperation clear in your voice, but it is no use; the front doors slam shut as the last of the villagers return to their homes. 

Shepherd grabs a rope from his pocket and stands in front of you, “Ah fear not. Think about the good your sacrifice will bring to the people of this village, all the lives you will save.” His gaze moves towards Philip, “Take her to the back for them to get her ready.” He pulls your wrists together in front of yo,u tying them tightly together. Once the rope is secure, Philip lets go of you and grabs the rope, binding your hands together pulling towards the back of the church. Sniffiling you let Philip drag you down the dark hallways leading to the offices. Opening the door to Shepherd’s office, Philip throws you inside the room, causing you to fall, hitting the ground causing a shockwave of pain through your body from where your knees and elbows slam against the wooden floor. 

“Here, get them ready,” Philip says as he shuts the door on his way out. 

Pulling yourself to your feet, you see who he is talking to. Valeria stands in the center of the room, a bored expression on her face, her arms crossed in front of her chest. The room is empty, apart from a single chair and table in the middle of the room, a red silk robe, a veil, and two small boxes. Sighing, she steps forward, pushing you to sit in the chair in the middle of the room.

 Grabbing her arm, you try to plead with her, “Please, Valeria, you have to help me. They mean to use me as some sort of sacrifice to a demon, please.” She rips her arm out of your hands, slapping you across the face. A disgusted look crosses her features as she replies, “Shut up, your sacrifice is what is best for the village. So stop crying. You are only going to make this worse for yourself and ruin the work I am about to put into making you look presentable for him.” 

Your face now burning the slap, you sit in defeat, feeling all forms of fight leave your body; even if you did manage to escape from this room, there was nowhere you could go, the other villagers already showing you that they don’t care about you if you went back home they would just find you and drag you back to where you are now, and if you tried to run for it, you would surely die due to the elements. 

Valeria grabs the silk robe, scrutinizing at your hands that are still tied together, “No funny business, understand. Just put this robe on.” you solemnly nod in return; she grabs your hands and begins to untie them, placing the red robe in your hands. You stare at her, waiting for her to turn around so you can change, but you quickly realize that will not be happening. Trying to save the little dignity you have left, you take off your sweater, putting the robe on, hoping that she will let you keep your warm pants on but she snaps and points to your pants. “Just the robe. It is the rules.” Taking off your pants and placing them in the small pile of clothes on the ground, as you are done, she immediately grabs your hands, tying your wrists back together much tighter than they were previously.

Every movement you make now causes the rough fabric of the rope to rub against your skin. Looking down at the robe you are now wearing, you quickly realize how thin the fabric is. It is definitely not something you should be wearing during this kind of weather, probably to make it more convenient for the demon to kill or eat you. Valeria motions for you to sit back down in the chair with her hand as she opens one of the small boxes laying on the table inside was filled with small paints usually reserved for weddings and other important ceremonies, she begins to draw strange symbols upon your skin, leading from your face, down your arms to your chest. Once she is satisfied with her work, she reaches for the matching red veil, placing it upon your head; you are still able to see through the fabric of the red veil, though it does give everything a strange blurry tint. 

All that can be heard in the room is the occasional sniffle coming from you, trying to hold back any more tears from falling, knowing that Valeria would not be happy with you if you ruined the writing she had just finished putting on your skin. When the door opens and Philip and Shepherd both enter the room, “Are you finished yet?” asks Philip, walking to where you sit inspecting Valeria’s handiwork. 

“Just have to put on the necklace, and we are all set,” she says as she grabs the remaining box sitting on the table, opening it to reveal a beautiful golden necklace with a small pendant that looks very similar to the bell that was engraved on the front of the leather book that they were referencing during the emergency meeting earlier. She places the necklace around your neck, fastening it in the back and tucking it underneath the robe you were forced to wear.

 Everything started to feel too real at that moment. What was about to happen to you setting in, causing you to let out a whimper, but before you could begin pleading for your life, hoping to somehow change their minds, Sheppard pulls out a small piece of cloth, “Now we can’t have you making all that noise, the demon would not appreciate that.” He lifts up the veil, shoving the cloth in your mouth and tying it around the back of your head, effectively silencing you and placing the veil back over your face.

 Shepherd claps his hands together, taking a step back, “Thank you for your help, Valeria. Alright, Philip, grab them and let's go.” Philip grabs the rope around your wrist, dragging you off the chair, the rope squeezing your wrists, causing you to let out a pained gasp that is muffled by the cloth in your mouth. They drag you back out to the sanctuary of the church towards the front door, where you see Simon and Johnny once again holding the lanterns. Once you reach them, they open the doors for you all, dragged out in the snow wearing nothing but the thin robe the freezing air immediately making goose-bumps form on your skin, you let out an involuntary shiver, the ice, and snow covered ground causing your feet to burn with every step. Johnny and Simon now lead the way with their lanterns. Shepherd is in the middle of them telling them which direction to go in, with Philip following close behind, pulling you along with him into the dark forest. 

—-

Walking for what felt like hours, you can no longer feel your legs, you're pretty sure your wrists are now bleeding due to the rope rubbing against your skin, causing it to break. Every intake of breath hurts, the cold air burning your lungs and throat. As you all reach a clearing in the middle of the forest where only a single tree stands surrounded by small torches sticking out of the ground, everyone stops walking. 

Philip yanks you towards the tree, pulling out another rope from inside his fur jacket, and ties one end of the rope around the rope, holding your wrists together. Once secured around your bound wrists, he throws the other end of the rope around one of the lower hanging branches of the tree and pulls the rope until your arms are straining above your head and your toes are barely scraping the ground. You let out muffled groans of pain and fear. He secures the rope around the trunk of the tree, stepping back and joining Shepherd, who stands in front of you. Johnny and Simon are walking around to the torches, lighting them with the fire from their lanterns. Shepherd reading through the leather-bound book, a look of malice taking over his face, muttering to himself, “This time, we will get him.” 

Once the last torch has been lit, and all four men all standing in front of you, Johnny and Simon looking anywhere but your face. Shepherd says, “This is where we leave you. Thank you for your sacrifice.” before turning with the others and leaving you to your death.

 As you watch them all walk away, the light from the lanterns slowly fades away until you can no longer see it. You begin to try to free yourself from the tree. Tears run down your face and neck, causing the writing on your skin to smear, bleeding into the fabric of the robe tied around your body. You try and scream to the best of your ability, but the cloth in your mouth muffling your shouts sounds more like a wounded animal. Flailing around trying to somehow untie the ropes on the tree or your wrist, but all you end up accomplishing is tightening the knots, burying the rope farther into your skin, the blood from the open wounds on your wrists running down your arms. You are now sobbing uncontrollably, resigning yourself to your inevitable death, whether it be freezing to death, the demon or whatever it actually is killing you, or some wild animal finding you first. 

Running out of energy from the walk here, crying, failing around, screaming, and the cold that has turned your entire body numb, you begin to feel tired, struggling to keep your eyes open, thinking to yourself hopefully your sacrifice will not be in vain and the people of your town will be saved. Until, from the darkness, you begin to hear the distance sound of bells jingling closer and closer. Eventually, you hear the crunch of snow as if someone or something was walking towards you. 

You try and blink the tears from your eyes to clear your vision, but with the veil still covering your face, your vision still remains blurry, a huge figure emerges from the trees, standing nearly seven feet tall with twisted horns protruding from underneath the dark red hood covering his face and body. With every step it draws closer to you, you catch small glimpses of the jingling of bells hanging on a chain wrapped around his torso from underneath the red cloak. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, fear overtaking your body, causing your adrenaline to rise, once again trying to pull your arms free. He stops right in front of where you are hanging from the tree, even dangling in the air, the top of your head barely level with his chin. The soft glow from the torches circling you gives off an eerie glow to whatever is standing in front of you, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood, though you swear that you can see eyes staring right through you. Realizing that this is the end for you, you let out muffled whimpers, not caring how pathetic you must seem right now. 

“Warum bist du hier draußen?” The demon in front of you utters, staring at you expectantly for your answer. 

Even if you were somehow able to understand what he had just said, you would not be able to answer him anyway, so you just shake your head, replying with a muffled what. You see its head tilt to the side in confusion before a gloved hand reaches up and pulls the veil off your head. Your vision is no longer obstructed, and you are able to make out the being in front of you more clearly. A flicker of the light from the torches illuminated the masked man in front of you. 

The mask peeking out from under the hood had twisted horns sticking out of the forehead, where the eyes would be were two holes his eyes shining through the darkness, and the mouth was open with sharp teeth and a long red serpent-looking tongue carved onto the front of the mask, reminding you of the old stories your grandmother used to tell you when you were a small child of an ancient demon who arrived during winter to steal and punish the naughty children. Your eyes widen in realization, muttering, “Krampus.” Even with the cloth still in your mouth, he must have understood you, as you hear a small chuckle in return. 

“Ah, so you have heard of me then. It has been a while since I have been called that, just call me Konig.” His accent is thick as he speaks, reaching for the cloth impairing your ability to say. He pulls the fabric out of your mouth, letting it hang around your neck. “Now, let's try this again, ja. Why are you out here?” 

Sniffling and your teeth chattering because of how cold you are, you manage to say “They said I was supposed to be some kind of offering to save the village. I…I don’t know anything else.” Sobs rack through your body. Looking back up into the eyes of the demon before you, you notice that little black dots begin to swarm your vision, the ringing in your ears was back the cold, pain,  and everything was begining to seem so far away. Using the last bit of strength you had left before you passed out for what you assumed would be for good, you mumbled, “…I don’t want to die.”

Your head lolls backwards, causing the necklace to be pulled out from underneath the robe, catching the eye of Konig whose eyes widen at the pendant hanging from your neck. He quickly pulls out the hunting knife from its sheath on his belt as he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling to the ground. He cut the rope around your wrists, your unconscious body falling forward into his chest. He feels the cold from your body seeping through his gloves and cloak. He removes the cloak from around his body and wraps you up in it as best he can to hopefully begin warming you up. He cradles you in his arms as delicately as he possibly can as he whispers to your sleeping form, “Es wird alles gut. Ich werde dich beschützen.” 

—---

You feel warm; whatever you're laying on is soft and fluffy. Peeking an eye open to take in the surroundings, you notice that you are on a bed of thick animal furs in some sort of cabin. The room you are in is small, with nothing really in it besides the bed, a small lantern placed on a bedside table, and a large mirror placed next to the door. You sit up in the bed, and you notice that your wrists no longer hurt, you look to find that both of your wrists are delicately wrapped in bandages. Hearing noise coming from the other side of the door, you pull back the furs covering you to slip out of the bed and make your way towards the door. Once you are standing, you look in the mirror so that you get a better look at the new outfit you are wearing. A red knitted sweater you now wear with black wool pants; examining your arms, face, and neck, you don’t see any traces of the strange writing Valeria placed on your skin. When the sounds of movement behind the door once again grab your attention. Walking towards the door, you slowly open the door walking out into what looks to be the main room of the house. 

Stepping out of the room, the first thing you notice is the Krampus or Konig you vaguely remember him saying is his name, he sits in the corner of the room with his back facing you, hunched over a crafting table lined with various tools on the wall. Along with the tools hanging on the wall, you see the mask Konig was wearing when he found you in the forest, placed gently on a small hook. 

As you walk further into the area you look around the room you are now in what you assume is the living room with the front door next to the small room you just exited, a window on the other side of the door, a small fireplace in the center of the room with a cozy chair facing it, two other doors on the opposite side where Konig sits, and a corridor that look as if it leads into what you assume in the kitchen. You let out a small hum, this house is much smaller and cozier than what you would have assumed an ancient demon who abducts and punishes bad children would live in. During your observation of the house, you failed to notice that Konig had stopped working and was now standing facing you, the mask back on his face. 

“I was starting to think that you would not wake up.” His voice startling you in the otherwise silent house. 

“How long was I asleep?” you ask tentatively, thinking that it was probably just a couple of hours, seeing that it was still dark outside, judging by the lack of light coming in from the window near the front door of the house. 

“A day, I feared your wounds and the cold was too much for you. I tried my best, but my powers are not usually used for helping people.” Seeing him in this light was very strange, even though he still towered over you, he seemed to be trying to make himself appear smaller, probably trying not to scare you, after all you think that you have had enough excitement for a lifetime.

You glance down at your wrists, then gently brush your fingers over the bandages. "Oh... um, thank you for helping me," you say quietly. "Does this mean... my village won't be saved after all? I didn’t think it was possible to fail at being an offering."

He lets out a cruel laugh at your question, his accent even thicker now. “Your village..” he spits out venom in his voice…”They are lucky that I just leave them to fend for themselves during this winter and that I don’t take revenge for what they have done to you by slaughtering them all. I have done more for much less.” 

Nervously, you absentmindedly bring your hand up to the jewelry that still lays around your neck, twirling the small bell pendant between your fingers, Konig’s eyes tracing your movements. “But..but why they said we had angered you last Christmas and this was the only way to put an end to the suffering you have plagued us with, the…book it said-” He cuts you off by walking towards you, his hand wraps gently around yours holding the necklace, careful of your wounds caressing your hand.

“I was not angry then but I am now, anyways that is not how I work. I do not know what lies they have told you, but I have no control over the crops, animals, or weather, that is not my doing.”

As he goes to pull his hand away you grab his wrist pleading with him, “no, that is not right. The only reason they left me out there like that was because the book said an offering to you would save the village. Why else would they do that to me?” you whisper the last part mostly to yourself, not seeing any other reason for the actions of the people in your village.

 You see his eyes soften from behind the mask, stepping closer his presence only a breath away from you now, cupping your checks and wiping away tears that you did not realize had fallen. “The book you speak of is an ancient book of an offering; this is to be given to me yes, but not for sacrifice or as a way to save a village from misfortune. It speaks of tying someone to me. Bonding their soul to mine forever. I do not know why but I assume they wanted someone to blame for their misfortunes, and I was it. By leaving you to me, writing the runes upon your skin…” his hands now trace your checks down your neck, and your arms where the writing was previously written, “ and wearing my necklace, and since I accepted the offering when I brought you back here with me, we are now linked together forever.” 

You stare into his eyes, looking to see if he is telling the truth, finding no lies within his eyes you take a deep breath, your head beginning to hurt with all this new information thrown at you. “I think I need to sit down for a moment,” you say in a breathless whisper.

 Konig guides you to the cozy-looking chair sitting in front of the fireplace, placing your head in your hands you lean forward, your elbows on your knees, closing your eyes trying to make sense of everything. Instead of being killed by Krampus like you originally thought you being a sacrifice for the good of the village and everyone in it, they tied your soul to his, making you his soulmate. No matter how long you thought about it you just couldn't make sense of it, how would this solve anything? Why would giving the being they thought responsible for all their troubles a soulmate solve anything. 

Lifting your head up from your hands you look up at Konig, who is walking back over to where you sit now holding a glass of water, he must have gone to the kitchen while you were deep in thought. He wordlessly hands you the glass of water, you take a long sip of water not realizing how thirsty you were until that moment. Gasping you say, “Thank you. But I still don’t understand how would this solve anything for the village then? Why would they essentially be rewarding you, if they thought you were the bad guy?” 

Taking the now-empty glass from your hands, he lets out a deep sigh. “Once your soul is bound to mine, I have a weakness. Through me, you will have an immortal life, not aging another day as I, but you are still human able to be killed, if you die, I die with you.” 

At the sudden news, you jump up out of your seat, craining your head to look up at him but before you could say anything, he adds “do not worry they cannot find you here. No harm will ever come to you, especially not while you wear my necklace. Plus, even if they somehow managed to find their way to my forest they would have to make it through the elves first, and they do not play nicely.” His eyes shine with a knowing look like he knows exactly what would become of anyone who makes there way here without his permission. 

Before you could say anything else your stomach starts growling, causing your face to feel warm with embarrassment. Konig lets out a chuckle, “Ah, how rude of me. You must be very hungry, ja. Let us get you some food. Come.” 

He reaches his hand out in front of you. You slowly place your hand in his, he gently pulls you to your feet and starts leading you down the corridor to the kitchen. Now that his hand is in yours, you can feel the rough callouses on his skin from years of use. Upon entering the kitchen, you did not expect to see the table already full of delicious-looking food, gasping you look at Konig in question, who simply shrugs his shoulder in response pulling out a chair at the table for you to sit at. 

“Do not be shy; have as much as you like.” He says as he sits on the seat on your right, making a plate for himself and piling it high with meat. You begin making your plate, putting a little bit of everything on it, wanting to try everything as most of the food before you is something you have never seen before. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Konig reach up and grab the mask obscuring his face and taking it off and place it in the spot next to him on the table. Your eyes rake over the scars on his face, he must have felt your gaze on him because he turns his head to stare at you. 

Giving you a sheepish smile, he apologizes, “I am sorry. I know I am not very nice to look at, but it is difficult to eat with the mask on.” 

Shaking your head, “No, you have nothing to apologize for. You just didn’t look how I expected Krampus to look; you are handsome.” 

Not knowing how to respond to your kindness, Konig just gives you a grateful smile before continuing to eat, you shortly following his lead. 

—-

You've been living with Konig for a few weeks now, and in that time, you've learned a lot about him. He makes toys—though they're unlike anything Santa would create—and the strange creations often come to life, causing chaos wherever they go. He's also started wearing his mask less frequently around the house, especially when it's just the two of you. Still, every now and then, a quiet worry creeps into your mind about the people in your village. You can't help but wonder if they managed to survive the blizzard and the food shortages.

Today, Konig was teaching you how to create snowglobes at his workstation. It turned out to be much more difficult than you’d expected, especially when it came to crafting the perfect sculpture to fit inside. Though you weren’t the best at it, Konig seemed to enjoy teaching you, and that made it all worthwhile.

“Look, Schatz,” he said with a proud smile. “It’s us.”

You stopped what you were doing and turned to see the small sculpture in his hands—a perfect replica of you and him, standing side by side. You gasped in awe. “Wow, that’s beautiful!”

Konig handed you the sculpture, and as you ran your fingers over the intricate details of the hand-carved masterpiece, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth.

“I still have to add color, so I am not done yet.” He sheepishly adds, rubbing the back of his neck at all your praise.

Sudden bangs and the chaos of shouting erupted outside the house, the sounds of a violent struggle growing louder. Konig stands up, grabs your arm, and pulls you up beside him. He begins dragging you to his bedroom. Once inside, he gently places you in the middle of the room and grabs his mask off the nightstand where it usually stays now. 

“Stay here, Liebling, do not come out until I come back for you.” Even with his face now covered, you can see the concern for your safety reflecting in his eyes. 

Konig turns to leave the room, but before he can make it out of the door, leaving you behind, you run up behind him and grab ahold of his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, “Konig, what’s happening? Don’t leave me alone.” 

Pausinghe turns to face you, fully reaching up with both hands on your cheeks. He caresses your face, softly rubbing his thumbs over the apple of your cheeks, “Everything is going to be okay. Just stay here, please.” 

Staring into his eyes, wanting to beg him to stay with you and just let his elves handle whatever is happening outside, you know that he does need to go out there; he is Krampus, after all, and is more than capable of taking care of himself. You nod, your face still in his grasp. He leans forward but pauses as if he is second-guessing himself. Letting out a deep sigh from his chest, he put the mouth of the mask on your forehead before walking towards the door, giving you one last glance over, ensuring your safety before he leaves, and shutting the door to his room behind him. You can hear his heavy footsteps throughout the house, the front door open and closed shut, leaving you all alone in the house. 

The noise outside has yet to stop; maybe it was just your nerves, but you feel as if, every passing second, he is out there. Something bad could be happening, but you know he is a demon and only truly has one weakness. Which is why he told you to stay in his room, where he knows you will be safe. Trying to clear your mind from the turmoil outside, you begin pacing around his room, counting the number of steps it takes to walk from one corner to the next. You continue to do this for the next couple of minutes while all the noise outside seems to have died down, allowing you to hear some muffled yelling. Right now, you can only make out Konig’s voice, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go out into the living room so that way you can hear more of what is happening. 

Quietly, you open the bedroom door, the hinges squeaking, causing you to flinch. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you walk out into the living room towards the front door, placing your ear upon the cool wood. Konig is yelling at someone; his accent becomes thicker the angrier he gets, which sometimes makes him harder to understand. After a brief moment of punching sounds, you hear someone who sounds vaguely familiar, “You killed her, didn’t you, you monster!!” 

You gasp, covering your mouth. You throw open the door, rushing outside in the cold, not thinking about grabbing the fur jacket Konig made specially for you. You run down the stairs on the porch. You see Konig standing tall and menacingly in the yard. His elves are all lined up facing him. They are all holding weapons of some kind, looking as rowdy as ever, the bells on the chains wrapped around their body jingling in the wind. You run as fast as you can to where Konig stands, where two elves are standing out from the crowd holding two prisoners hostages, making them kneel before Konig. 

Sensing you, Konig whips around his body language, immediately softening at the sight of you, “Liebling, it is too cold for you to be out here.” By the time you reach him, he has already removed his thick red cloak throwing it over your shoulders and wrapping it around your body. 

You place your hands on his chest, bunching up his shirt in your grip, “No, Konig! Please don’t hurt them. They are from my village.” Motioning to where the two elves are holding a beaten and bloody Simon and Johnny. 

Johnny and Simon are drenched in blood, from head to toe, and you can only hope it’s not all theirs. Their arms are covered in cuts, and their faces are swollen and bruised from what looks like repeated punches. Chains are wrapped tightly around their upper bodies, and the elves standing behind them keep a firm hold, forcing them to kneel in the snow.

At the sight of you in Konig’s arms, Johnny and Simon struggle in the chains, causing the elves to tighten the chains, making them let out pained groans. 

Johnny speaks first, “You’re alive!! We went back to the forest that night to save you. Simon and I decided that we couldn’t just leave you out there to die, but when we arrived back at the sight, you were gone, nothing left but the rope.” Guilt fills his voice, looking at you for forgiveness. 

Simon moves to stand up, but the elf kicks his leg, causing him to fall back on his knees; looking over his shoulder, he glares at the elf, cursing under his breath. He tries again, jerking his shoulders forward to create some slack in the chain. Once standing, he takes a half step towards you; seeing this, Konig steps in front of you more, making you peek around his back to see what Simon has to say. 

“When we got back to the village and told everyone about how we were unsuccessful in rescuing you, everyone started rioting, blaming Shepherd and Philip, saying there should have been another way. They…they told Johnny and I that the book said there was a way to save you. We just had to find Krampus’s hideout and kill him.” Simon glances at Konig, seeing his protective stance around you, and begins rethinking everything he was told by the village leaders.

A loud clapping coming from behind all the elves draws everyone’s attention; Shepherd appears from the darkness, clapping his hands together slowly. Konig moves forward, growling, “What are you doing here?” 

Shepherd lets out a loud mocking laugh, “I told you before, Konig. I would get my revenge for what you did to my family. I have been planning my revenge for years. Did you not think I wouldn’t notice you watching them every year and becoming attached to them, so when I was finally able to get my hands on that necklace, I knew this was my chance.” 

Konig rolls his shoulders back, standing up to his full height, with hatred in his eyes. He watches Shepherd slowly walk closer to him through the elves who were anxiously waiting for the word to attack. “They were on my list. It is the rules, bad children, and adults who need to be punished. But they have nothing to do with this. Your quarrel is with me.” 

You move to step forward to take comfort behind Konig when you feel someone wrap their arms around you from behind, placing a knife at your throat. You fearfully shout, “Konig!” 

Hearing your cry for help, he turns around but pauses when he sees you in danger, his breath catching in his throat. “Let her go!” he growls. You have never heard him like this before; it sends a shiver down your spine. The elves are holding up their weapons behind Konig, ready to kill for you. 

A laugh rumbles from the chest of the person holding you, one that you used to enjoy hearing the sound of, but now it just sends a sick feeling to your stomach. Philip rests his chin on the top of your head, digging the blade into your neck, causing it to break the skin, a little trial of blood running down your neck. This causes Konig’s entire body to go rigid at the sight of it. He clenches his fists at his side, and you can see the gears turning in his head on how to rescue from his grip without hurting you. 

“You didn’t really expect us not to retaliate against you. I think us giving you a little soulmate was mighty nice of Shepherd and me. I mean, we even gave you some time together before sending in those two as a diversion…” 

He points the knife over at Johny and Simon before placing the knife back at your throat,  “So you wouldn’t suspect us, and we could just waltz on in here and grab your soulmate, killing them essentially killing you. But I really did not expect it to go so easily.” Philip laughs, tightening his arms around you. You silently plead with Konig to do anything. 

Shepherd, having made his way through the horde of elves, pats Konig on the back condescendingly, “Now you will know what it is like to lose everything, but you’ll be joining them shortly.” 

The chains around Johnny and Simon had slackened considerably due to the elves' concern for you and Konig’s safety. Simon used the slack of the chain to throw it around Shepherd's neck, pulling back into his hold. Shepherd’s hands immediately go to the chain around his throat, trying to keep it from choking him, but to no avail; Simon is not letting go, no matter how much he struggles. 

Philip removes the knife from your throat to point it threateningly at Simon, “HEY! You let him go now!” 

With the knife no longer about to end your life and Philip distracted, Konig sees the perfect opportunity to strike. Konig rushes forward, grabbing Philip’s hand that holds the knife, bending his wrist back with a sickening crack, causing him to scream out in pain, dropping the knife in the snow. Konig’s other hand wraps around Philip’s throat. He lets go of you in favor of trying to pry off Konig’s hands off his throat. You fall to the snow and crawl out of the way. One of the elves comes up behind you, pulling you in their embrace to keep you safe. Your head is pressed into their chest to keep you from seeing anything that is happening behind you. 

Konig now has both hands wrapped around Philip’s throat, lifting him into the air, his feet no longer touching the ground. Philip is clawing at his hands, gasping out for breath, his face turning colors due to the lack of oxygen. Konig leans forward, whispering in his ear, “Do not touch what is mine.” A loud crack resonates throughout the forest; Philip's hands fall to his limp, throwing his body down. Konig sprints to where you are cowering in the elf's grasp. 

“Liebling, are you okay? What hurts?” He places his hand on your back, trying to access any more damage on you. Feeling Konig’s comforting touch on your back, you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, tears flowing soaking into his shirt. 

“I was so scared; I thought they were going to hurt us.” you sob into his chest; he rubs your back soothingly as you try to catch your breath. 

The familiar sound of the bells jingling causes you and Konig to look over to where Shepherd now lays wrapped in the chains at the feet of Simon and Johnny, who hold both ends of the chains. “Should we kill him?” Johnny asks, looking at Konig. 

Konig stands up with you standing in front of him, wrapped safely in his arms, turning to face them both. “Nein, I have a better idea. Elfen bringen ihn in die Grube.” 

With their orders now given, a handful of elves move forward, snarling and laughing, grabbing the chains from Johnny and Simon and begin dragging Shepherd’s screaming body through the snow towards the pits. 

Konig walks to Simon and Johnny, stopping in front of them with you still with him. Simon looks at you, then Konig, “What are you going to do to us?” asks Simon, sighing regrettably. 

Reaching up and removing the mask covering his face, Konig puts one hand on both of the men's shoulder’s, “You both helped me. Distracting Philip, so I was able to act. Thank you. You are free to return to your village, become the new leaders, and do a better job than those two. Though I must warn you once you leave my forest, you are never to return, or else my elves will not be as kind to you next time.” 

They both nod their heads at Konig in agreement and turn to leave. The rest of the elves make a path for them to walk through, none of the elves messing with either man as per Konig’s wishes. However, it did not stop the elves from keeping a close eye on them until they were completely off their territory. 

Konig kneels down in front of you, placing his head against your stomach, “I was so scared when I saw you in danger. I thought I was about to lose you forever, and I panicked. I am so sorry.” he says, his voice muffled from being pressed against you. Running your hands through his hair, you move his head up to look at you. 

“Konig, you have nothing to be sorry for. I should have listened to you and stayed inside; it was all my fault. I am sorry, but thank you for saving me.” You pull him up and give him a hug. 

Leaning your head back, you look up at his face, staring into each other eyes. He slowly leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath fanning your face, standing on your tippy toes, you press your lips to his, feeling your lips on his. He immediately kisses back, placing one hand on the back of your head and pulling you closer to him. 

Cheering and laughter erupt in the background, causing you to pull away from each other. Seeing all the elves going crazy at the sight of you and Konig kissing causes you to throw your head back, laughing before you bury your face in his chest, making him laugh in return. 

“Come on, Liebling. Let’s go back inside.” 

—-

The next day, you and Konig are sitting cuddled up together in the living room in front of the fire, enjoying each other’s company. Konig stops rubbing your back and turns his body to face yours fully, his face full of nervousness. 

“If you want, you can go back to your village. I will understand if you wish to leave, and I will hold no grudges against you or the town. I….” you stop him from talking any further. 

“And if I want to stay here with you?” you ask, looking down shyly, scared that maybe he was saying all that stuff because he did not want you here anymore. 

He places his finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, “then I will spend every day of our life together doing whatever I can to make you happy. Trying to prove to you how much you mean to me.” He leans forward, connecting your lips together in a kiss.

The warm glow of the fireplaces bathed you both in a soft, calming light, casting a peaceful aura over the room. Above the mantel, the snowglobe, Konig crafted, an intricate, perfect representation of the two of you, sat proudly. Its glass shimmered gently in the flickering flames, showing the love and care he put into creating it.

[natashaslesbian]

All I Want For Christmas

Summary: You fall sick while your mom is away on a mission, what’s worse? It’s Christmas Eve

Request: Blackhill x daughter reader and reader x Kate maybe - reader gets really sick whilst Natasha is away on a mission

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Flu symptoms

—————————————————————————

“Hey kiddo, how you feeling?” Your mom asked as she brought you a new bowl of soup. “Gross” you coughed as you sat up in bed. “Did you get through to mama?” You asked Maria “no sweetie I’m sorry, she’s probably just busy fighting” she said as she helped you to sit up. “I miss her” you whimpered, thinking of the redhead. Unfortunately, Natasha was called away on an urgent mission that was expected to last for at least three weeks. You had gotten sick just after she left and to make things worse, your mama would be gone for Christmas. Thankfully, you had your mom and your best friend Kate there to look after you. “I miss her too baby” Maria frowned “eat your soup and try to get some more sleep okay, Kate can call me if you need me alright” she said as she pushed away your baby hairs. You nodded weakly as the archer brought up a spoonful of soup to your mouth.

It was an hour later while you were sleeping that Kate noticed your sudden short breaths, you could barely breath through your nose. She gently tried to move your head and carefully pry your mouth open to allow more air. Although her touch was light, you woke up in a raging coughing fit. “Sorry baby” Kate cooed as she slowly sat you up, you struggled to suck in a breath and soon began coughing up the mucus from your throat. “Oh y/n, you’re okay, it’s okay” Kate said as she grabbed the trash can “I’m gonna call your mom okay” she sadly smiled. “I want mama” you cried. You loved your mothers just the same but Natasha held the softness that you craved so deeply right now. Maria was the ‘stricter’ parent so you usually went to your mama for comfort and to Maria for the more practical advice to navigate your teenage years. “I know baby” Kate said, trying not to take your words to heart.

Maria arrived at your room in record time “ok I think it’s time to go and see Bruce” she said when she saw your frail body leaning over the trash can. “No” you whined, leaning into your girlfriend’s cooling touch. “She’s right y/n, this isn’t just a cold anymore” Kate said, helping to shift you into your mom’s arms. “Put me down! I don’t want you!” You cried. Maria knew you didn’t really mean it, but she couldn’t help but wish Natasha was here to make you feel better. Your mom got you to Bruce quickly and the doctor concluded that you had a dreadful flu. “I have some antibiotics but I think she needs rest more than anything, try and get lots of fluids in her and make sure she gets some sleep” Bruce said. “I am here you know” you huffed from your chair. “Sorry y/n. You can head back up to your room okay. Hopefully you’ll be feeling a little better for Christmas Day.” You scoffed at his words “fuck Christmas. It’s gonna suck anyway” you said. “Language kid” Maria scolded, making you even more angry than you already were.

You stomped angrily back up to your bedroom, ignoring your girlfriends attempts to sooth you along the way. “What are we gonna do with her?” Maria sighed in defeat when she found the archer in the corridor. “She needs Natasha” Kate said, causing the agent next to her to frown “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” she said. “It’s okay” Maria sighed again. “I’ll go sit with her, I have some schoolwork to get done” the archer coughed, walking away from the awkward situation she had accidentally created. Maria kept her welling tears at bay as she retreated to her own bedroom, hers and Natasha’s. The brunette sat in her own silence for a while before reaching towards her phone. It was almost deafening as the phone continued to ring, not connecting to the one person she wished to hear from. “Oh where are you baby” Maria said as Natasha’s voicemail came through the speaker. The brunette was about to give up when the familiar ringtone of her phone began to play. She quickly reached for the mobile she had just discarded on the bed “Natasha?” She asked in a hopeful tone.

You went straight to sleep once you got back to your room and considering you were so peaceful when Kate came to check on you, she decided to let you sleep through dinner and to the next morning, through to Christmas Eve. You couldn’t quite tell what time it was when you wake and the grogginess in your head was still present. “Hey gorgeous” Kate smiled as she opened the door, fresh cup of coffee in hand. “Mmm, what time is it?” You questioned as you rubbed at your sore eyes. “It’s just gone 11” your girlfriend said. “Ok, and ugh, what day is it?” You whined “it’s Christmas Eve” Kate said, joining you on the bed with a hidden gingerbread cookie. You rolled your eyes at her festivities “you could’ve just said December 24th ya know” you huffed, groaning when a rough cough caught you off guard. “Oh baby” Kate cooed “Still not feeling great huh?” She asked, you shook your head in agreement. “Is there anything I can do?” She said. “Mommy” you whispered, feeling the tears burning behind your eyes, you were too sick to be embarrassed about how pathetic you felt. “Oh my love, she’s not here baby, remember? Nat’s still away” your girlfriend frowned. “No, I want mom, I want Maria” you sniffled.

Kate scurried away like her hair was on fire and before you could even blink Maria was stood in your doorframe. “Hey kid” she sheepishly said “how are you feeling?” She asked. “Sick” you whimpered, finally letting your tears fall. “Oh sweetie” your mom cooed as she came rushing to your side “it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here alright and I know that you want your mama but I’ve got you for now okay” she said. “No, no mom I’m sorry” you sniffled “I do want you, I just want mama too. I want you both here” you cried, struggling to catch your breath in between the chesty coughs racking your ribs. “I know sweet girl, easy, deep breaths ok” Maria said. “Why did she have to go no of all times” you sobbed “we always have Christmas together, just the three of us” you whimpered, sinking into Maria’s arms. “Well you know what Fury’s like, but never underestimate the power of your mothers” your mom said, nudging you to look up at the door.

“Hey baby girl” a familiar voice said as she stepped into the light. “Mama!” You sobbed, attempting to throw yourself towards the redhead. “Hey, hey, I’m home, it’s okay, I’m home now” Natasha said, rushing to your side and making sure you didn’t use what little energy you had left to get up. “Bu- how- how did you?” You muttered through your tears, while holding on tight to your mama. “I told Fury where to stick his mission” Natasha smiled, pulling you into her embrace. “Won’t he be mad at you?” You asked. “Who cares if he is, my y/n needs me so that’s where I am” Natasha smiled, gently kissing your forehead. “Merry Christmas baby” Maria said wrapping her arms around her girls. “Merry Christmas mom, merry Christmas mama” you said, eyes still shiny with tears, happy tears. Because finally, all was as it should be.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Happy Xmas Eve everyone! Sorry this is a day late tumblr was being an ass

- Astara Bell

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[Taglist]

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nev-valkyriesdottir / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @acciowriting / @hatergirl-69 / @lovelyy-moonlight

[angstywaifu]

Hi, how have you been??

I was wondering if your requests are still open? If so, it crosses my mind: what if Garrick had a cousin secretly dating Bodhi, and how would he and Xaden react if they found out about their relationship after Bo goes feral because Garrick's cousin is hurt?

It's just an idea, if your requests aren't open or makes you uncomfortable in any way I apologize and please forget I asked in the first place.

Love your work, btw. Bye 👋 💕

Worse Kept Secret - Bodhi Durran x Reader

A/N: Just like Bodhi not telling Xaden and Garrick, better late than never right? I'm so sorry this took so long to get to. I hope you like it!

Masterlist | Support Me

“We should probably tell them soon.” I tell Bodhi as we make our way to class.

Bodhi’s eyes widen before he shakes his head. “Hell no. Garrick would have my head if he found out about us.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re acting like he’s my brother.”

”He may as well be with how protective he is over you. Have you seen the way he glares at any guy that looks your way for a second too long?”

I sigh. “You’re over reacting, it will be fine. He’s going to have to find out eventually.”

”Yeah, when he’s stationed far away from here when he can’t hunt me down and murder me.” He says before coming to a stop outside his classroom.

It had been six months since Bodhi and I had started seeing each other. Both of us agreeing to keep it a secret at first in case it didn’t go well or we decided to go back to being friends. But six months in it was clear that this was going well, and it was getting harder and harder to cover up sneaking off together. Especially now Bodhi and I were helping with supply runs, meaning our time together was becoming more and more limited.

“No we are telling him before he graduates and gets stationed elsewhere.” I tell him sternly.

Bodhi’s shoulders sag in defeat, before slowly nodding his head. “Fine, but when my body turns up one morning in the middle of the rotunda just know it was because of you.”

I quickly check the hallway to make sure we’re alone before leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll remember your noble sacrifice. See you at challenges.”

He chuckles and shakes his head at me as I turn and walk away to my own class.

Bodhi.

I rush into the training room, the familiar sounds of fighting echoing around the room as everyone watches on. My squads flight training had gone over time due to an inccident, so I’d missed the first half of challenges. I push my way through the crowd to the ususal spot I stand in with Y/N, Garrick, Xaden and Imogen. But as I break through the crowd the only one there is Imogen. I scan the mats in the centre of the room, expecting to see them fighting on one of the mats. But none of them are there. Strange.

”Where are the others?” I ask Imogen as I manouver into the gap next to her.

”Healers Quadrant.” She says timidly, as if almost scared to tell me. Which was not normal for her at all.

”Imogen, what’s wrong?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest as I look down at her with narrowed eyes.

She looks up at me and recoils slightly at my stare. “Jeez, it’s scary how much you look like Xaden when you do that.”

”Imogen.” I say more sternly.

“It’s Y/N. She…”

”Imogen I swear to the gods you better tell me what happened.” I demand.

”She got badly hurt in challenges. That new Barlowe kid got paired up with her.”

I feel all the colour drain from my face at her words. Barlow had no care or regard for anyone but himself. He was ruthless, and was already known for killing quite a number of cadets already. As well as sending a long list of cadets to the Healers Quadrant in very bad condition.

I turn and shove my way through the crowd, Imogen calling out to me in an effort to stop me. She was pretty much the only one that knew about Y/N and I. She had covered for us numerous times after stumbling across us one night in an abandoned tower. Clearly it was not as abandoned as we had thought.

As soon as I push through the doors, I sprint over to the bridge connecting us to the rest of the college. But no matter how hard I push myself it feel as if time is slowing down, as if I’m running through mud.

I can’t help but think of the worse. I had seen first hand many times how Jack’s opponents had ended up post challenging him. Most of them unconscious, a lot of them gushing blood from some sort of wound, or…. Dead. No she isn’t dead. Imogen would have said so. But she had called out to me….

The thought has me pushing my legs harder, barrelling towards to door opening that finally looked like it was getting closer and closer. Rounding the corner, I nearly take out a healer who squeals with alarm as I dodge past her.

I push open the doors to the infirmary, Garrick and Xaden’s heads whipping towards me as I rush towards them. “Where is she?” I demand loudly as I stop in front of them, frantically looking around at the beds.

”She’s back there with Nolon.” Xaden tells me, nodding towards the closed door at the back of them room.

I side step him, starting to rush towards the doors before a hand grabs my flight jacket and hauls me backwards. I reel around, shoving Garrick in the chest hard, causing him to stumble back as he releases my jacket.

”What the hell has gotten into you?” He nearly yells at me, the room going silent as the healers look at us with alarm.

I freeze, realising I’m reacting in a way I probably shouldn’t be for someone they think I’m just friends with. Yes she was Garrick’s cousin, but I had only know her coming up to two years now. Garrick should be reacting like I am, which I’m sure on the inside he was.

“Sorry. Imogen just made it sound bad.” I say as I lower my gaze, awkwardly scratching the back of my head in an effort to pass this off.

”What did she say?” Xaden asks.

”That she was up against Barlowe.” I say quietly. Imogen hadn’t actually said it was bad, I had just assumed it was. If I was smart I would have rushed in and asked what happened. Not come barging in here like I was out for blood.

”And?” Garrick asks, his tone almost teasing as if he can see right through me.

“And that was it…” I mumble out, but with the breathy laugh I hear from the two of the I know they’ve heard me clear as day.

“Yes it could be better, but all Barlow managed to do was break her arm.” Xaden tells me, my head snapping up in relief at his words. A broken arm was nothing, happened all the time around here. And easy fix. And explained why she was in the back with Nolan.

”If anything, Barlowe should be the one you’re worried about.” Garrick says with a laugh.

I turn and follow his gaze to where Barlowe lays in one of the beds I’d missed in my scan of the room, clutching a very blood stained cloth to his side as the healers work to mend the wound. On his bedside table lays on of her daggers covered in his blood. I can’t help but smile knowing that she’d gotten him back, and done worse damage to him than he had done to her.

“Definitely not worried about him. He deserves it.” I say as I turn my attention back to them, both of them nodding in agreement.

I think I’ve gotten away with hiding why I reacted the way I did, until Garrick looks me in the eyes and just smirks at me. “So instead of trying to pass off your reaction due to Imogen being vague, you going to man up and tell me you’re dating my cousin?”

I feel like my heart stops as my eyes go wide. Xaden doesn’t even try to hide his laughter at my reaction to Garrick’s words.

”How the hell did you know?” I blurt out with out thinking, mentally slapping myself.

Garrick rolls his eyes. “You really trusted Imogen to keep your secret from us?”

I groan as I hide my head in my hands. “Definitely wasn’t your smartest move cousin.” Xaden says as he pats me on the back.

“Excuse me while I go find a certain pink haired cadet to murder.” I grumble out as I storm out of the infirmary back to the Rider’s Quadrant, Garrick and Xaden’s booming laughs echoing behind me

[caroldantops]

baby, it's cold outside

ship: dark!agatha harkness x female!reader

summary/request:  darkfic; you're invited to agatha's christmas party, but you're afraid to make a move. lucky for you, agatha is more than willing to take things into her own hands.

word count: 3396

dead dove do not eat - this fic contains dark elements including rape/non-con, drugging, hints of victim blaming. proceed at your own discretion.

other warnings: non-magic au, smut (18+), top!agatha, praise, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), light pain play (agatha slaps reader's body once), i think this qualifies as whump, pet names (darling, good girl, baby, and a couple more)

(I genuinely feel like I'm missing some important warnings so let me know if you think there's something i should add here)

masterlist | ao3 link

The wind practically knocks you over as you try to climb up the few stairs up Agatha’s porch. Christmas lights twinkle in the darkness, illuminating the snow that’s gently falling. Your mittens do little to block the cold, hands shaking as you reach up to knock on the door. 

The fog from your breath hangs in the air as the door swings open. Alice greets you with a sweet smile. “Hey, you! You made it! Come in, come in, it’s freezing out here.” 

“Thanks,” you smile, stepping in and sighing with relief as warmth envelops you. “I like your sweater.” 

“Fun, right?” Alice closes the door behind you, posing so you can see her sweater in full. It has a cute silhouette of a witch on a broomstick, being pulled by a group of reindeer. “Kind of a mash-up of holidays. Speaking of outfits, you look amazing tonight.” 

“I think I’m overdressed, to be honest,” you laugh as you shed your coat. You definitely regretted asking Jen of all people for outfit comparisons - she always overdressed for any occasion, and it made you lean towards a velvety black dress. Like Alice, it seems like the other guests milling around are dressed more casual. “Maybe I should just grab my sweatshirt from my car or something.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Jen says as she approaches you. Seeing the sparkly, emerald green dress she’s wearing gives you a bit of relief. At least you don’t stand out the most here. Flying under the radar was usually your go-to. The only reason you even dared come to a party hosted by someone you barely know was from Jen and Alice convincing you that it would be fun. 

Jen soon gets distracted by gossiping with Lilia, but Alice is kind enough not to abandon you. The party is actually pretty nice, despite your initial hesitance to even show up. There’s not very many people crammed into the house - just enough that it feels cozy and chatter fills the space. 

The weather outside starts getting worse through the night, unbeknownst to you as you’re tucked into the cozy library with a few others who prefer the quieter atmosphere. 

Though the night is still young, people have started slowly leaving, claiming that they want to get ahead of the inclement weather. You start to wonder if maybe you should leave a bit early as well, but Alice assures you that if it gets particularly bad, you can stay at her place since she’s much closer. So, you put that thought aside and just enjoy your evening. 

While you’re telling Alice about a weird customer that keeps showing up at the coffee shop you work at, your eye catches a glimpse of the host for the first time tonight as she waltzes into the room. 

Agatha Harkness. The older woman is dressed in a blood-red sweater and simple dress pants, some elegant rings and necklaces sparkling under the light. She’s talking to Jen and Lillia, the former of whom being the reason you even knew Agatha. You’d only talked a couple of times when Jen would drag Agatha along on a coffee run, but you’d always been a bit enamored with her beauty. 

You weren’t even really sure what she did for work - and if your friends knew they’ve never filled you in. All you knew is that she was a very powerful woman, with very powerful connections. Even Jen, who was frankly unintimidated by most people, had to admit that Agatha was a bit scary. 

What Agatha wanted, she got. And if something tried to stop her, there would be hell to pay. 

Alice nudges you, giving you a knowing look. 

“What?” You roll your eyes at her. 

“You’re painfully obvious, you know that right?” Alice raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on her face. “Go say hi.” 

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt their conversation…” The end of your sentence trails off as piercing blue eyes meet your gaze. Instincts tell you to look away, but some unknown feeling overrides that. 

Time seems to stand still as you mull over how little you know Agatha and how much you’d like to know. She regards you, blatantly ignoring the conversation she’s supposed to be participating in. Eyes scanning you, calculating. 

Maybe even hungry. 

With that thought, you’re the first one to break, pulling out your phone to fake distraction. With your gaze now averted, you miss Agatha’s lips quirk up in a smirk. She watches as you turn back to Alice, clearly flustered, and clearly not intending on making any sort of move. 

Lucky for you, she’s more than happy to take things into her own hands. 

“Alice,” Agatha’s booming voice cuts through the noise of the party. Alice looks up as Agatha struts over, boots thumping on the floor with determined purpose. “Would you be a dear and keep those two from starting a karaoke session? They’re both about one glass of red away from breaking into Mariah Carey, and frankly I’d rather risk walking across a frozen lake right now.” 

Alice rolls her eyes, but gets up to go make sure the others behave. Agatha sighs, plopping into the now empty seat next to you. Her nimble fingers trace the rim of the wine glass she’s been nursing. “Jen said you’d be coming.” 

“Oh, she did?” 

Stupid. Of course she did, she told you she would. In your nervous fumble, you reach for the drink Alice got you earlier. It’s remained almost untouched so far, but you’re desperate for an excuse to not talk. 

And, in a true feat of spectacular coordination, you manage to knock it into your lap. 

“Shit!” You groan. 

“Oh, dear,” Agatha juts her lip out in sympathy. “On such a pretty dress too! Come on, I’ll help you clean up.” 

You take a couple of napkins and blot ineffectively at the stain. “It’s okay, this is enough to dry it at least…” 

“Nonsense,” Agatha scoffs, putting her own glass down and standing up. You look at her, puzzled as she just stands there, before you realize she’s expecting you to follow. She starts leading you through the house, down the halls that no guests were allowed in. “We don’t want that to leave a stain, I have a couple of things that should help.” 

“Thank you, Agatha, really,” you say, trying not to analyze all the decor and photos that you pass as she leads you. 

You end up being led down to the basement, carefully descending the creaky wooden stairs. The dwindling party can be heard above you, muffled music and footsteps reminding you that you’re not completely alone with Agatha. 

Agatha shuffles some stuff around, looking through the bins near her washing machine. “Dear, do you have your phone on you? My eyes aren’t great in this darned dim basement light.” 

You turn on the flashlight on your phone and pass it to her, waiting patiently as she rummages around. “Aha!” 

Her grin is illuminated by the light of your phone, and you can’t help but smile - it’s infectious. She motions for you to come closer, turning on the nearby sink. 

“Alright, give me your dress for a second.” 

“What?” Your smile fades, and you recoil back in surprise. 

“Your dress, it’ll be easier for me to clean if you just take it off,” Agatha says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She analyzes your face, and you practically see the thoughts turning in her head as your own brain fumbles for what to do. “Here, one second.” 

She grabs a couple of things from a laundry basket - a t-shirt and some sweatpants - and hands them to you. “Switch these out, and then I’ll clean your dress off.” 

You nod, taking the clothing and changing as fast as you possibly can. Your head gets stuck in the shirt for a moment, and you miss the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your bare torso and lacy bra. As your head pops out, she quickly turns her attention to your dress, rinsing it and applying some cleaning product, rubbing the fabric gently in her hands. 

“Ugh,” Agatha groans suddenly. 

“What’s wrong? Not coming out?” 

“No, the stain came out fine, but I think I wet it too much. It’s soaking, you can’t go out in this. I’ll hang it up to dry, but it’s gonna take a while,” Agatha ponders as she grabs a hanger. “You’re more than welcome to just keep those clothes for now.” 

“Oh, okay,” you say, playing with the end of the shirt. You’re resisting the urge to rub your nose against the fabric - even after having been washed it seems to smell like Agatha. “Thanks again.” 

“Of course, sweetheart, I’m happy to help,” Agatha beams. “I’m going to get this dress set up to dry, you go back upstairs and enjoy yourself. I’ll be right behind you.” 

When you get back upstairs, you realize that most of the guests have left. In fact, it seems like it’s just your friends left. Even the neighbors who live just down the street have retired for the night.

Alice spots you approaching and sighs with relief. “There you are! I was trying to find you. I’m going to need to take Jen and Lilia home. They’re in no state to drive. What are you wearing?” 

“Oh, I spilled my drink, Agatha’s hanging up my dress to dry,” you say, clearly embarrassed. Alice, the saint that she is, does not take the opportunity to tease you for being in Agatha’s clothes. 

“Gotcha.” A loud thump comes from the other side of the room, and you both look over to see Jen picking Lilia up off the floor, both of them drunkenly giggling. Alice sighs, “You’re good to drive, right? They live on the opposite side of town from my place, so if you do need me to pick you up on my way back, just call me okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” you assure her. “I didn’t get a chance to drink anything before I spilled it on myself. I’m just going to thank Agatha for helping me out and then probably head out.” 

“Okay, be safe. And seriously, call me if you need anything.” 

“I will, I will,” you instinctively reach for your phone to see that it’s charged enough, but you realize you must have left it downstairs. The trio leaves in a whirlwind, and suddenly you’re left alone. 

Well, not completely alone. 

“Good grief, did everyone decide to do an Irish goodbye?” Agatha returns from the basement and immediately makes her way to the kitchen to make herself a drink. She sees you standing awkwardly and nods at the sofa. “Take a load off, honey. Your dress will probably at least be dry enough to wear comfortably in a little while. Might as well enjoy the fireplace while you wait.” 

You hear her humming to herself from the other room, and you gaze contentedly at the crackling fire, curling your legs under you. The wind outside rattles the windows. You gasp as you look outside for the first time in a while. It’s started snowing so hard that it’s hard to see, and you can tell that it’s piling up on the streets. 

“Shit, I should really try to get home,” you start to stand up, but a firm hand is placed on your shoulder, and a warm mug is shoved in your hand. You give Agatha a confused look as she sits next to you, a steaming mug in her own hand. 

“Honey, it’s getting real bad out there. Alice said you live across town, yeah?” Agatha says, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I think it’s a bit too late to try to start driving. Good thing is, the other ladies probably made it at least back to Lilia’s place by now. They’ll probably huddle up there for the night.” 

“Yeah…How am I going to get home though?” You look at the drink Agatha handed you, realizing it’s not alcohol but hot chocolate, the top foamy with already melting whipped cream. You take a sip, sighing as the warmth fills your body. 

As you ponder your options, you take a few more sips. Agatha wipes the whipped cream that catches on your upper lip with a napkin, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how close she is. You kind of want to shift away, but your body feels heavy, and the way she’s looking at you has you paralyzed. 

“Stay here,” Agatha whispers, breath dancing against your skin. “You can drive home in the morning once they clear the streets.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” you shake your head, taking another big sip of your drink, frowning as you realize you’ve almost hit the bottom. “I can figure something out…” 

“Doubt any cabs are out tonight.” 

“Seriously, Agatha, I appreciate the offer, but I should probably go,” you start to stand up, but are hit with a sudden dizziness, and immediately sit back down. “Woah…”

“You okay, baby?” Agatha asks, but her voice doesn’t sound concerned. Or surprised. 

Your stomach churns a bit. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the lights all suddenly feel way too bright. “I don’t know. Was there alcohol in this drink?” 

“Not a drop,” Agatha answers. 

“I dunno what’s wrong then,” you mumble, your words are slurred. Desperately, you try to put the pieces together and figure out what’s wrong, but everything feels muddled now. 

“Maybe you ate something bad earlier? Here, lay down on the couch, baby.” 

When did she start calling you that? You try to respond, but the words come out too muddled to understand. Agatha guides you onto your back, your head resting on a throw pillow. All of your muscles feel simultaneously heavy and weak, and you need Agatha to guide you down so you don’t just flop like a fish. 

“Agatha,” your word comes out as a strangled whine. “What’s happening?” 

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” Agatha says, her voice deep. She’s hovering over you, and you feel a shudder run through your body as she hits you with that hungry look again. 

Wait. 

The only thing you’ve drank tonight was what Agatha made you, but…she wouldn’t have. 

Right?

If your eyes didn’t feel so heavy, you’re sure they would’ve looked up at her wide in sudden realization. Nevertheless, it seems like she reads the change in expression on you, the shift from confusion to sudden fear. Agatha laughs, low and menacing. 

“So cute. I was almost worried that I wouldn’t even get the chance. But thank god for the others leaving early, hm?” The shirt Agatha gave you is tugged up, and her thumb catches your bra as well, pulling both articles of clothing over your chest in one motion. You try to wiggle away with what little strength you have, but Agatha shifts quickly, straddling your thighs and keeping you in place. 

“Pretty tits,” Agatha says, and you don’t know if she’s speaking to you or herself. 

“Ag’tha.” 

“Shh, darling. Just let it happen,” Agatha’s face hovers over yours, her pupils blown out and dark, and your stomach twists as you realize how much this is turning her on. Drugged and delirious, you’re at her complete mercy. And she couldn’t be happier. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I don’t break my toys. Not permanently, anyway.” 

Agatha’s lips press against yours, and she doesn’t even care that you’re too weak to reciprocate. She grips your chin with one hand to keep you in place, her soft lips peppering your face with kisses. It would be sweet, in any other context. You’re sure that her shiny red lipstick is all over your face, and that it’s leaving a red trail as she drags her lips down your neck. 

Her teeth sink in, and you give up your feeble attempts at fighting it. Agatha must feel you go completely limp (well, more limp than you already were), because she chuckles against your skin as she soothes the bite with her tongue. 

“Good girl. So good when you let me give you what you need.” 

The drugs in your system make it hard to register what’s happening. Agatha’s hands are on you, but you’re unable to keep up with every pinch and grope as she explores your body. A sharp tug of your nipples is enough to give you a jolt of awareness, and you moan pathetically in response, your body betraying you. 

“Oh, you like being hurt?” Agatha tugs again and gives your tit a sharp slap as well. You groan, drool starting to drip from your lips. “Dirty girl. Bet your pussy is fucking wet too.” 

She slips her hand under the waistband of your pants, nimble fingers finding your damp cunt. Her mouth opens in a dramatic gasp. “I was right! You like this, huh?” 

You babble nonsense in response, your no’s coming out incoherently. 

“What was that? You love it? Aw, baby, you flatter me,” Agatha kisses you again, not caring about the trail of drool on your cheek. She pushes her fingers into you, meeting some resistance as you’re not quite wet enough to take her so quickly. Your hips twist as the feeling of her fingers dragging against the walls of your cunt makes you flinch. “Take it, take it like a good girl for me. This is what you wanted, right? You were so obvious, with all that staring and how nervous you got around me. You were practically begging for this.” 

“Don’t…” 

“Found your voice again, it seems. Probably not for long.” Agatha clicks her tongue, shrugging as she shuffles down your body, tugging your pants down enough that your cunt is exposed. She kisses down your mound, groaning as she reaches her prize. Nose nudging your clit, she inhales your scent and moans, the vibrations close enough that your clit throbs in response. “Fuck.” 

All the sensations are reduced to vague feelings as Agatha starts to lick you in earnest. Warm. Wet. Feels good. Darkness clouds your vision as you start slipping in and out of consciousness. Fingers again, prodding at your hole. Thrusting in, curling, working you better than anyone ever has. When did she slip a third finger in? 

“Come on, baby, want you to cum all over my fingers,” She mumbles against your clit before flattening her tongue against it, fingers curling against your sensitive walls again. 

Your body shudders, but you can’t even tell if it was an orgasm. The woman you’ve been lusting after is fucking you through climax, and you’re not even going to remember it. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll forget this whole thing. Or at least enough to deny it. 

Because as fucked up as it is, some pathetic, yearning part of you still wants Agatha. She’s drugged and taken advantage of you, yet there’s a part of you hoping that this isn’t a one time situation, that she’ll still want you when you’re fully awake and able to enjoy yourself. 

God, there’s not enough therapy in the world to even start to tackle that, you think.

Suddenly you realize you’re crying, salty tears hitting your tongue as you breathe heavily. Agatha crawls back up your body, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Baby, it’s okay, it’s okay. We’re done. You did so, so good for me.” 

“Good?” 

“Yes, very good,” Agatha kisses the tears from your cheeks. She rearranges your clothes so that you won’t get cold, and pulls a blanket off the back of the couch to drape over both of you. The position is awkward, since you can’t really move much, but she manages to squeeze herself into a space where she can hold you. “C’mere, darling. You took that so well. Let me hold you, pretty.” 

“Aggie,” you mumble against her skin when she pulls you against her chest, unable to conjure her full name. 

“Yes?” Agatha hums, stroking your hair. 

“Why?” 

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment as Agatha lets the question hang in the air. You can feel her heart thumping, feel the way her hands stroke soothing circles into your skin. The last thing you hear before you finally fall into a deep sleep is her voice. 

“Darling, I always get what I want.”

[midnight-mourning]

Christmas Spirit

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 12❄️❄️

woof, now we're REAL behind chat, apologies was busy but also like, feeling unwell, but here we are! hope you enjoy :)

Prompt: christmas request! Reader doesn't care for christmas since their relationship with their family isnt great and nearly ever christmas since they moved out included multiple fights or screaming matches; they just want to have a positive association with christmas and don't mind working on a holiday at their crazy but chill job with their favorite animatronic coworkers. And these fellow coworkers intend to make sure this christmas is a postive one even if theres silly mishaps here and there.

Word Count: 2048

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When you realized the date this morning, to say your heart sunk into your chest was an understatement. Sure, maybe it was a bit dramatic to go from chipper and ready for the day, to dragging your feet out the door, but to be fair, this wasn't exactly your favorite time of year. So, you think you had a little bit of a pass. 

Though, as you slam open the door to the Daycare just a tad too harshly, spooking Sun whilst he was mid-decorating, you cringe. Maybe not too much of a pass. 

He shakes it off, however, bounding over to you as happily as ever. "Good morning Sunshine! And how are we today?"

You decide to brush off your mistake. Based on the current state of things, he's very excited about the coming holiday, and you'd hate to ruin that for him. 

"I'm doing well, Sunny. And what about you? The place looks great!" You motion to how already, the Daycare is already well on its way to being totally decorated. It's impressive, to say the least. You left less than 24 hours ago, though he probably has a lot more time on his hands than you. 

He puts a hand to his faceplate, waving the other bashfully. "Oh, we're just getting started! Would you like to help?"

"Ah, I don't want to um, get in your way at all." Not to mention even the idea of touching a decoration makes you want to fling it across the room. Despite how ridiculous a notion that is. You shake your head. "I'll just get stuff set up for the day as usual!"

Sun hesitates a moment, rays shrinking. "Oh, okay then! Well, if you change your mind, just let me know! Always happy to have your touch with these things."

You're too distracted by your own discomfort to acknowledge the compliment. Instead only offering a quick nod and a smile as you march over to the craft station and start preparing. 

You'd hope that would be the end of things, but you weren't so lucky. All throughout the day, both sides of the Attendant seem to be ever curious about your thoughts on different holiday plans they have, asking your opinion on this or that. Whether they realize it or not, you can feel your weariness about the topic growing worse, and paitence wearing thin. 

It was only a matter of time before you cracked, and it happens at probably the worst moment to do so; puppet time. 

Sun decided to put on a Christmas themed show—of course—and had all but insisted for your help. Again, not wanting to cause issues, you agree. However, it's easier said than done. 

"—And we all just enjoy the holidays so much, don't we friend?" Sun asks, ever in character with his hand puppet.

You chuckle, awkward. "We sure do!"

"What's your favorite part of the season?" His little character does a spin on the mini stage. "Mine is making cookies, oh oh! And playing out in the snow, and wrapping presents for my friends!"

For some reason the question—which should have been expected—throws you for a loop. "Oh, well, I don't really have anything in particular. But I'd love to hear more about your favorite activities!"

"Oh come on, everyone has something that's their favorite." He presses, unintentionally pushing your buttons. 

At that moment all you can think about is all the years of arguing, fights, yelling. Family members bickering about things that don't matter, and yet, won't talk to each other for weeks afterward because of some minor slip of the tongue. Feelings of being isolated, alone, and utterly miserable creep in. 

You can't help the words that slip out then. "Well, some of us don't like Christmas very much at all!" You say, voice over the top with fake cheer.

Sun seems to take the hint then and thankfully, recovers the show from there. You're a bit embarrassed to need the save. You didn't think you'd lose your composure over a silly puppet show, but apparently, you were wrong. 

It's when you're packing things up to get ready for naptime that Sun broaches the topic once more.

"You, you don't like Christmas, Starshine?" Sun asks, voice soft. 

You take a deep breath, then shake your head. "I, no, not really. No." You see Sun's rays shrink, and put your puppet-free hand up. "But it's okay! Really don't let me bum you out any. I'm sorry I lost my cool for a moment there. It won't, won't happen again."

Before you can speak on it any further, you turn away, heading to start getting naptime mats out and such. Had you not, you would have seen Sun's hand reaching out for you, concern and care clearly evident on his features. 

After that little incident, neither Attendant talks to you about the holiday in detail again. You still discuss activities as usual, but they don't ask specifics of you anymore. You're relieved, but you do feel bad. You hope to make it up to them by having an easy day of work on Christmas itself. 

Get some organization done, clean up some things that you've been putting off, that kind of thing. Hell, maybe you'll even tolerate some holiday music while you work too. 

When you walk inside bright and early on Christmas morning however, Sun nearly jumps out of his skin upon seeing you. At least, you think he would have if he did have skin, that is. 

"Sunbeam! Wha—what are you doing here today?" He rushes over to you. 

You smile and start taking off your coat. "I work today, Sun. Obviously."

After removing your hat and scarf, you grab your apron, brushing it off once or twice before clapping. "So, I was thinking we tackle the craft closet first and foremost, and then go from there with all our usual stuff, that sound good?"

When he doesn't answer you turn, only to jump when you realize he's right behind you, rays flicking side to side. He takes hold of your shoulders and bends to your level. 

"Starshine."

"Sun." You nod. 

His grip tightens for a moment, then loosens. He narrows his eyes. "We, are not. Working. On. Christmas."

"Well I'm already here—"

He shakes his head, picking you up suddenly. "Nope. Absolutely not. I won't allow it. If you're going to be here then we're going to make this right."

"Hey! Put me down! Where are you even taking me?" You kick your legs in vein, now slightly annoyed. Before you thought he was just joking, but now you realize he's dead serious. 

You get your answer when he sets you down in a bean bag. Taking a moment to snatch up a blanket with one hand and untie your apron with the other. Before you can blink, the blanket is laid across you, you have several Christmas themed stuffed animals surrounding you, there's a set of antlers on your head, along with a coloring book in your lap. 

Sun nods once down at you, hands on his hips. "Now, you get started on that and I'll get you some hot coco. Okay?"

"What, but—"

But he's already off again, "Don't move~ I'll be just a moment!"

Deciding that you're better off to indulge for a little bit, as opposed to outright protesting, you do as he asks. And, while not your favorite thing in the world, sitting and coloring in the peace of the Daycare, holiday music playing softly around you, is nice. 

Sun's gone for longer than you would have expected. Especially for just a cup of premade hot chocolate. But, when he eventually returns you do take the time to thank him for the quick break, that you appreciate the thought, and that you're ready to actually get started for the day. 

Surprisingly—suspiciously—he agrees. 

You won't admit to longing for the warmth of the cozy nest you leave as you stand, but the longing isn't allowed to last for long. Sun's hand is tightly wound with yours as he leads you out of the Daycare and towards the theater. 

You take a sip of your drink, confused but still following. "Um, did you want to start with the theater's supply closet then?"

"Friend, when I said no work on Christmas, I wasn't kidding." He stops just short of the entrance, energy now becoming more antsy. 

He lets go of your hand and you frown. "I told you it's alright, Sunny. I don't mind, honestly."

"I know! We know, but,"—he shakes his head—"We want to, change that. Make it up to you! If, you'll let us?"

He's looking to you now. You're hesitant, of course you are, but you can at least hear him out. "Sure, bud."

"If you don't like it, that's okay too! We just, wanted to try." He turns slightly and starts to open the door.

You open your mouth to respond but are instead taken aback by how pretty the theater looks. There's warm lights strung across the ceiling, decorations of red and green that sparkle. A medium sized tree with decorations laying nearby sits near the middle of the room. Snowflakes in all intricate patterns litter the space. There's a video of a yule log playing on the screen, and music softly twinkles around you. 

While not as intense as the Daycare in terms of the level of Christmas-vibes, there's something more, comforting, about it. Something maybe a bit more familiar, that unlocks a memory you'd left behind back when you were much smaller. 

"When did you find the time for all of this?" You ask quietly. You'd been in here just yesterday and it looked nothing like this. 

Sun comes up behind you, hand on your shoulder. "Just now. We just thought that maybe something a bit more relaxed, but still festive, could be fun for you? We can decorate the tree, or, or watch movies, or dance. Whatever you would like, honestly. Whatever you want." 

"Whatever I want?" You look up to him, almost unable to speak.

He looks down to you and after a pause, wraps his arms around you with a nod. "No one should be sad during the holidays, Star. And it's, it's not our business why but, well, we just want to try and change that for a little bit. To try and make you a little happier."

The tears well up before you can stop them. 

Sun starts panicking. "Oh! Don't cry. It's okay, we can just go back to the Daycare—"

"No, no it's okay, really." You sniff. Your reaches up to his faceplate, halting his fretting. "They're happy tears. I'm very grateful. And emotional."

He relaxes into your touch, but his tone is still concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah I,"—you shake your head—"You know what? Let me just show you."

Without thinking further, you raise your other hand and pull his faceplate down to your lips. You release him again after a moment, giggling. 

Sun's rays click, then—"Just to be sure, Moon would also like you to show him."

This causes you to laugh outright, and soon enough you're in the naptime attendant's arms instead. 

You spend the rest of your day in higher spirits than you would have otherwise expected for the holiday. The attendant takes turns doing the various activities they planned with you. And maybe it's only because it's with them, or because of the new relationship you've found yourself in, but you find it all to be so much more bearable than before. More than bearable really, enjoyable. Truly and completely, enjoyable. For the first time in a long time. 

"What are you thinking of, Star?" Moon asks as the two of you dance across the room. 

You shake your head, smiling. "Just about how much I appreciate the two of you, is all."

"Just appreciate?"

You scoff. "I think you know by now it's more than that. Don't even think of trying to scam me out of more kisses."

He snickers in response. 

Just the music for a moment. 

"Thank you, guys. It means a lot."

Moon bends you for a dip, leaning in. "Merry Christmas, Starlight."

"Merry Christmas, Moon."

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Thank you for the request @pip-plz!! Was fun to take this and make something wholesome, esp as someone who hasn't always had a fun holiday experience myself, hope I did it some justice!

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Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

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[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part one

I'm backkk 👀 Reminder that y'all do NOT like each other (for now 🤭)

I did a lot of math to make sure I had my timeline in order but I won't bore y'all with all the numbers. Some basics, tho: we're somewhere in s5/6, Foyet doesn't exist here but Haley and Hotch are divorced and Jack lives with Haley, Reader is in her mid 30s and Hotch is in his mid 40s. That's all for now, happy reading! xxx

Chapter warnings: these two are at each other's throats! and a new case begins ofc

Your day started out perfectly.

You sorted more of your belongings into boxes for the movers. Everything will be shipped ahead so it arrives shortly after you do at your apartment in Virginia. You’re running ahead of schedule, so you even have time to stop for a good breakfast before heading into the office.

The day felt…too good to be true. And you quickly find out why. 

“The BAU?”

Your superior, Agent Reynolds, sits across from you and raises an eyebrow, assuming incorrectly that you haven’t heard of the branch. “The Behavioral Analy—”

“Yes, I know what the BAU is,” you cut him off, something he’s used to, waving your hand sharply. “Why the BAU?”

“You were requested,” he replies simply with a slight shrug.

“By who?”

“Agent Hotchner, as I’m told.”

That is the last name you ever expected him to say. 

“Hotch?” you echo incredulously. “You’re kidding.”

Reynolds sighs. “I’m really not.” You know deep down Reynolds will miss you, but he’ll also thank god every day that he doesn’t have to put up with your attitude anymore. 

“Huh.” You could laugh. You almost do. “Interesting.”

Your now ex-boss gives you a look, and a sigh. “What now?”

“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head. “Agent Hotchner and I have met before, that’s all.”

+++

Ten and a half years prior to the present day, you worked on a case with Aaron Hotchner. 

Key word: case. One singular case.

You were joined by agents Gideon, Morgan, and, of course, Hotchner. You were the only woman with them at the time, and that already threatened to drive you up a wall. To make matters worse, you and Hotch could not get along to save anyone’s lives. 

The two of you butted heads for two weeks straight, but even that is sugar coating it. He raised his voice at you and you raised your voice right back. Of course, only in private. In the field, you were as professional as can be. But in the tiny conference room that you had to set up for them coming in unannounced? All bets were off.

You’ve never been a particularly angry person, but something about Hotch brought all your anger to the surface.

He was the most arrogant man you had ever come across. He explained things to you that you already knew, and even when you told him you were aware of the topic, he’d continue explaining like he hadn’t heard you, just out of spite.

He underestimated you in ways that had your blood boiling. He wouldn’t send you to interview anyone, despite that being your area of expertise. He had you doing busy work, like a goddamn intern. 

You were your office’s own little BAU. You had read Gideon’s papers, been to profiling lectures. You became a profiler because you knew your city needed one, and by your fifth year in the office, you were one. You knew what you were doing, and Hotch treated you like a newbie. 

He always walked around in a damn suit and tie. Does he not own a t-shirt? Does he know what that is? Would it kill him to breathe once in a while?

Why does he have to look like he constantly has a stick up his ass?

Of course, you aren’t totally innocent. You found his buttons and pushed them since day one. He hated being talked over or shouted at, so those became your favorite things. Especially after he began doing them to you.

Don’t disobey direct orders, he said. You did. And you got the results needed, so he had no choice but to move on.

Don’t come into the interrogation room unless asked for, he said. You did anyway. The unsub needed to feel important, a high priority, and he wasn’t. So, you walked in and told Hotch that the Attorney General of the United States was on the phone. It worked. While Hotch “spoke with the Attorney General,” you got a confession. Hotch had to thank you through gritted teeth.

When the case was solved and the BAU left town, you popped a bottle of fucking champagne. Good riddance you screamed and drank straight from the foaming top.

+++

You mutter under your breath the entire drive to the BAU. Your boxes arrived this morning, but you haven’t had a chance to unpack them, so your apartment is currently a shitshow. 

And now you’re driving to deal with another shitshow. 

You haven’t received any emails or texts from Hotch, which is odd, but you’re sure as hell not questioning it. The less you have to deal with him, the better. He probably shares the same sentiment, which is why he hasn’t contacted you.

From far away, Quantico looks more like a prison than it does a headquarters. You hope it doesn’t feel the same way it looks.

The BAU office is just a short elevator ride up from the parking garage, and you dread every second of it. When the doors open on the BAU floor, you want to scream.

But you’re a professional, not a toddler, so you walk your ass through the glass doors and into the bullpen, your head held high like an adult.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Hi Morgan,” you mirror his grin, accepting his hug. “Miss me?”

He’s in the same black t-shirt and black jeans he always wears, his haircut just the same but shorter. And he finally got rid of the “shaving my face every morning” routine. Stubble looks much better on him.

“For ten years,” Morgan reminds you. “What brings you here?”

You shrug cheekily, feigning innocence. “I heard there was an opening.”

His grin, somehow, grows wider and brighter. “Come here!” He tackles you in another hug, this time lifting you up and spinning you. “God is on my side to-day. Where’s Reid?”

“Putting a disastrous amount of sugar in his coffee,” a blonde woman says as she passes, then stops. “Oh, hi. I’m JJ, you must be Agent L/N. I heard you were coming in today.”

You escape from Morgan’s grip to shake JJ’s hand. “That’s me. JJ, you said?”

She nods, shifting her feet to a more comfortable position in her heels. “I’m the BAU liaison, so you’ll see a lot of me. And very little of me. It’s complicated.”

“I hear that,” you chuckle, just glad to see another woman has joined the team.

And to your surprise, another joins the circle, this one with black hair parted down the middle. “Emily Prentiss,” she says, sticking out her hand. ��Are we finally getting another woman around here?”

You nod, glad to hear she agrees with your unspoken comment. “Looks like it.”

“Did someone call my name?”

You turn and see the infamous Dr. Reid stirring a mug of sugar with a splash of coffee. He’s wearing a cardigan, per usual, and what looks like the same pair converse from when you first met him five years ago at a lecture the BAU put on. He was brand new back then. His eyebrows furrow when he sees you, and then they go wide.

“Y/N? Hi!” he says excitedly, nearly spilling his drink. “It’s been so long! Wha— What are you doing here?”

You give JJ and Emily a look that only you three truly understand. “Why do none of the men assume I’ll be joining the team?”

Emily laughs. “Believe me, I wish I knew.”

“Wait, seriously?” Reid blurts. “Are you really joining us?”

“Sure am,” you grin. “And once I get out of this meeting with Hotch, you’re telling me when the hell you joined a boyband.”

“Oh, ouch,” Morgan taps Reid’s arm lightly with a grin.

“Uh, you too, Derek,” you punch him, letting him know he isn’t off the hook either. “What’s up with the shirt? Do you not own another color?”

“Damn, momma,” Morgan groans. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you,” you pat his cheek.

“I like you already,” Emily grins.

“Agent L/N,” an unmistakable voice comes from the top of the stairs, effectively ruining the moment. 

He definitely hasn’t changed, you think to yourself as you slowly turn around. 

“Agent Hotchner,” you mimic his tone. “Nice to see you again.”

He grips the railing a little too tightly. And he’s still wearing a damn suit, with a damn tie knotted so tight you wonder if it’s choking him. If it’s not, you want it to be. Maybe he’ll shut up then. 

“I believe our meeting was scheduled for 9am,” he says, earning a sideways glance from the other man standing on the balcony. 

“It still is,” you reply, looking beside his head at the clock on the wall and shit. “I’m late. That’s my fault, sir. I apologize.”

“Yes, it is,” he says. “We need to make this short. Hurry up.” 

He turns and disappears into his office like some imitation of Dracula. You give Derek a helpless look.

“Welcome back,” Reid says, grimacing.

“Thanks, bud,” you reply, knowing he means well. “If any of you hear any screaming, pay no mind, that’s just how we greet each oth—”

“Agent L/N!” Hotch shouts from his doorway.

“Coming!” you shout back, just as loud and just as annoyed. “For fuck’s sake,” you mutter to yourself.

You hop up the stairs two at a time, reaching Hotch’s office in seconds. 

The man that was beside Hotch offers you a smile. “I’m Agent Rossi,” he extends his hand. 

“Agent L/N,” you return the friendly expression, shaking his hand, just glad that he at least seems happy to meet you. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

Rossi nods slowly, mouthing, “Good luck.”

You like him already. You smirk.

Hotch is standing behind his desk when you walk into his office, anger written all over his face. His arms are crossed over his chest, fingers picking at his nails ever so slightly.

“Close the door.”

“Promise not to shoot me?” you joke, but it doesn’t land. You shut the door and take a seat in front of his desk while he remains standing. “Well?”

Finally, he speaks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You let out a laugh. “Oh, great.” You sit up because this is just stupid. “Are you kidding me? This is the last division I wanted to work in, but I was transferred here. At your behest, might I add—”

“I can assure you, Agent L/N, I did not request that you join my team,” he says as he sits down, rolling toward his desk and placing his arms over the files littered before him.

“Well then Agent Reynolds is a fucking liar, I guess,” you deadpan. “He’s the one who told me I was assigned to the BAU — because of you.”

“Well it wasn’t me.”

“Glad we got that settled,” you shoot back, wanting instead to add, like I fucking care if it was you or not. “Listen, whether either of us likes it or not, I was assigned here, so I’m here. If you want me to leave, take it up with Agent Reynolds or whoever the fuck really requested me. But I can’t do shit about this, and this is now my job, so I’m not leaving just because you want to have some pissing contest.”

He looks like he’s chewing on fire. “Your job security is not my problem—”

“For God’s sake, call your fucking boss, it won’t make you any less of a man to ask a goddamn question about why you have a new agent in your office.”

Hotch glares at you, but does as you say, picking up his desk phone and pressing a few buttons.

You sit back in your chair, waiting in silence. You turn your head to look through the blinds because Hotch didn’t close them all the way, and you nearly start to laugh. Huddled around one desk, Morgan, JJ, Emily, Reid, and another blonde woman dressed in bright colors and shapes are listening intently to Reid who is no doubt lip reading and translating this entire conversation.

Finally, the line connects and Hotch starts speaking. Almost as quick as the phone call begins, it ends.

“Well?” you ask.

“There was some miscommunication,” Hotch admits, though he does not look happy about it. “Welcome to the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

You smile sarcastically. “Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”

“You’re dismissed,” he says. “We’ll meet in the conference room in five minutes to discuss the rest of today. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, sir,” you mutter as you escape his office, just glad he didn’t torture you with a handshake.

Emerging from Hotch’s office, you stand against the railing and ask the team where the conference room is.

Morgan points to your left. “Why?”

“He told me we’re meeting there to discuss—”

“That’s on hold now,” JJ says, whirling around the BAU with an armful of files. “We’ve got a case. Missing girl, thirteen years old.” She passes out files in the bullpen, handing one to you as she ascends the stairs.

“Shit,” you mutter. “How long has she been missing?”

“Starting without me?” Hotch asks as he walks out of his office. He takes a file from JJ and says a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Yep, we are,” you say right back, scanning your file. You think you hear Rossi let out a chuckle at your response. “Gone since this morning. Are they certain it wasn’t overnight?”

“The mother dropped Lila off at school this morning at seven, and by nine, she was absent,” JJ explains as everyone fills into the conference room. “They paged her at school over the intercom, but she’s not in any of the classrooms.”

“How are we hearing about this so quickly?” Morgan asks. “I mean, I’m glad, but it’s been…just over an hour. We don’t normally have this much time.”

“Because,” JJ pauses, pointing the remote toward the TV. “This is Lila’s father.”

On the screen, the FBI’s Most Wanted are staring back at you. JJ clicks again, and one face comes forward.

“Who?” Emily says.

“Richard Monroe,” Reid says aloud. “He’s been on the run for almost two years. He’s said to have killed a dozen people, all females, but they suspect there might be more. Every time we’ve come close to catching him, he gets away.”

“And now his daughter is missing,” Rossi adds. “I’m guessing this guy is our unsub.”

“I don’t know,” you stare into Richard’s eyes on the screen. “When was he last seen?”

“You can investigate that when we get there,” Hotch says curtly. “They’re waiting for us and we’ll lose time by flying. Wheels up in ten.”

Everyone files out of the room and Hotch stays back, waiting for you to be the last one in the room.

“Agent L/N,” Hotch gets your attention. “Since you’ve never tackled a case like this before, try your best to follow orders, and watch what the team does. Don’t make any rash decisions and don’t go off on your own.”

None of his comments anger you as much as the first one. “You don’t know that I’ve never encountered something like this.”

“Don’t argue with me when we have a missing girl,” Hotch snaps. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply, pushing past him.

“I hope you have a go bag,” he calls after you. “There will be no time for shopping when we’re on the ground.”

“Then I’ll just wear your clothes!” you yell back, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him. You hear Morgan snicker down in the bullpen. 

“Agent L/N,” Hotch says, and when you turn around, you see he’s giving you his famous stare.

You sigh. “My bag is in my car. It’ll take me two minutes to grab it. That’s clearly less than ten. Unless you have anything else to say that might delay me further?”

“Go,” he says, waving you away as he heads into his office to grab his bag. “Now.”

+++

While you’re on the jet, you do some research on Richard Monroe. He’s a grade A piece of shit if you’ve ever seen one.

But he’s not the type to go after his daughter.

“Garcia, can you check and see if Richard tried at all to contact Lila on her cell?” you ask.

“I would, sweets, but I can’t find Lila’s phone. Their house phone, however, has no calls.”

“He wouldn’t call the house phone, not with Lila’s mom watching over her like a hawk,” you murmur. 

Hotch lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“That her mother would be overbearing.”

“Her father’s a serial killer on the run, Hotch,” you reply. “Any mother would keep tabs on her daughter’s every breath if she had a father like that. It’s logic.”

“She makes a fair point,” Rossi says.

“It’s unfounded,” Hotch ignores him, still dead set on irritating you. “Until you talk to her mother, don’t jump to any conclusions about her behavior.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Until I do?”

“Yes, you will be talking to her mother when we get on the ground. Morgan will go with you.” He nods to Derek. “Reid, you and JJ get set up at the precinct. Prentiss, Rossi, and I will go to the middle school. We’ll meet back at the precinct to discuss our next steps.”

You share a look with Morgan before sinking back in your chair, glaring at the file instead of Hotch.

It's going to be a long fucking day.

[wolvietxt]

heyy, congrats on 1000!! 🎉

i’d like daryl with the prompt below:

“it’s the middle of a heated argument, voices raised, hands gesturing wildly. suddenly, they stop mid-sentence, chest heaving. “you’re all i ever think about,” they blurt out, the anger draining from their face as if they only just realized it themselves.”

(from the “unexpected confessions” list)

thanks so much!🤍

DARYL was sitting in the corner of the cabin, sharpening his knife, while you paced the floor, words spilling out in a rush of frustration. it started over something stupid. it always did. 

"you can't just keep shutting me out, daryl," you said, throwing your hands up. "every time i try to help, you act like i'm some kind of burden!"  

"ain't about you helpin'," he shot back, his voice rough, eyes glued to the blade in his hands. "it's about you gettin' hurt 'cause you don't think things through."  

"oh, so now i don't think things through? that's rich, coming from the guy who runs off without a word and comes back covered in blood half the time!"  

his eyes snapped up at that, sharp and blue like storm clouds ready to break. "you think i don't know what i'm doin' out there? you think i ain't got it handled?"  

"that's not what i meant!" your voice rose, and before you could stop yourself, you were right in front of him, arms crossed and glare locked on his face. "but you can't handle everything alone, daryl! no one can!"  

"been doin' fine so far," he muttered, standing abruptly and towering over you, his posture tense. "you just don't get it. this ain't about bein' fine. it's about survivin'."  

"surviving isn’t the same as living!"  

he let out a sharp exhale, his hands clenching at his sides. "ain't got the luxury to live, not with how things are. you think this is some kinda fairytale? we got walkers everywhere, people worse than 'em, and all you do is - "  

"what? all i do is what, daryl?" you challenged, stepping closer. "care about you? worry about you? because that's all i’m trying to do!"  

"then stop worryin'! i ain't your problem to fix!" his voice thundered, louder than you'd ever heard it, cutting through the tension like a blade.  

you stared at him, chest heaving, hands gesturing wildly as the words tumbled out. "you’re impossible, you know that? you push me away, but you don't want me to go. you want me close, but you don't let me in. what the hell do you want from me, daryl?"  

he opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he stood there, his breathing ragged, shoulders rising and falling like he’d just run a mile. and then, as if it had struck him like lightning, his expression softened, anger draining from his face.  

“you’re all i ever think about,” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. his gaze locked on yours, raw and unguarded, like he was seeing you for the first time - or maybe realizing something he’d been trying to deny for far too long.  

your breath caught, the silence between you suddenly deafening.  

“what?” you whispered, barely audible, as if saying it louder would break whatever spell had just been cast.  

his hands twitched at his sides, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “i said… i think ‘bout you. all the damn time.” he looked away, his jaw tightening, but not before you caught the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “don’t know how to stop.”  

you blinked, trying to process his words, the heat of the argument still lingering in the air but quickly fading under the weight of his confession. “daryl…”  

he cut you off, shaking his head like he couldn’t bear to hear whatever you were about to say. “just forget it, alright? shouldn’t’ve said nothin’.”  

but you weren’t about to let him retreat now, not after everything he’d just let slip. “no,” you said firmly, taking a step closer. “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to drop something like that and walk away.”  

he scoffed, but there was no real heat behind it. “ain’t walkin’ away. just don’t wanna make this harder than it already is.”  

“harder?” you asked, your voice softening. “what’s so hard about admitting you care about someone?”  

his gaze snapped back to yours, and for a moment, he looked almost angry again, but it wasn’t the same. it was frustration, confusion, and something else - something gentler.  

“’cause if somethin’ happens to you, i wouldn’t… i couldn’t…” he trailed off, his voice breaking, and suddenly, all the walls he’d built around himself came crashing down. “damn it, i don’t know how to do this.”  

your heart clenched at the sight of him, this man who was always so strong, so sure of himself, now looking utterly lost. “you don’t have to know how,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “we can figure it out together.”  

he stared at your hand like it was something foreign, something he didn’t quite know how to handle, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.  

“don’t wanna mess this up,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“you won’t,” you assured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “but you have to let me in, daryl. you can’t keep shutting me out.”  

he nodded, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time since the argument started, you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. “alright,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. “alright.”  

a small smile tugged at your lips, and without thinking, you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?”  

he huffed a quiet laugh, the sound so rare it made your chest ache. “guess not.”  

and then, before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned down and kissed you. it was tentative at first, almost unsure, but when you kissed him back, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer like he never wanted to let go.  

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, but the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks - months, even - was gone, replaced by something warmer, something infinitely more comforting.  

“you’re all i ever think about, too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

he smiled, just a little, and for the first time, you saw the man behind all the walls, the one who cared so deeply he didn’t know how to show it. “guess we’re both screwed then,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.  

you laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “yeah, i guess we are.” 

ᰔ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

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