#and it's just. bc sometimes it takes a while to feel okay again. you two are gonna be fine

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[nereidprinc3ss]

slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 

“What? Is it—”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 

Spencer doesn’t respond. 

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks. 

You do it again. 

Another squeak. 

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding. 

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 

“You’d be surprised.” 

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 

But you don’t bring those up. 

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?” 

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

[moonstruckme]

I love your roomate!james. I was wondering if you could do one where shy!reader is sick and she doesn’t tell james bc she’s used to taking care of herself but he’s adamant about taking care of her. 🥺🖤

Thank you lovely!

cw: implied nausea and vomiting

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words

James worries he’s scared you off. 

He thought you’d been having a good time the other night, hanging out with his friends and then teasing each other while he battled you for cleanup duties after. He’d certainly had a good time. Watching you smile more readily as you got comfortable, feeling your soft form tucked up against his on the couch, it had made his whole body feel light and fizzy, but now James wonders if the easy, familiar energy of the night had made him too bold. There had been a moment, just before you’d gone to bed, where you’d seemed to stumble, defaulting back to the awkward, self-conscious way of speaking you’d had before you got to know each other. 

James might not have thought anything of it—you still get shy sometimes, he can never figure out what causes it—except you’ve been very obviously avoiding him ever since. That next day, you went to work and then disappeared into your room straight after you got home. He told himself he was being paranoid. But yesterday, you seemingly had the day off, and every time you needed to emerge from your room James heard you dash down the stairs and back up as if your bedroom was the only safe zone in the apartment. 

He hears you doing it again now, the soft click of your door unlatching before quiet footsteps start down the stairs. If Sirius were here, they’d probably make a game out of timing you, but James estimates it’s less than a minute before you start back up again. He wishes he could tell you not to hurry yourself; he has no intent of cornering you in your own home, even if he does want to patch things up. 

Then something falls on the stairs with a loud thud, followed by a sharp gasp just outside James’ room, and all thoughts of giving you your space are quickly abandoned. It was a valiant effort. 

“Shit,” he says as soon as he opens the door. He crouches beside you, taking your elbow in his hand, cushioning it from the cruel edge of the step, “Did you hurt yourself?” 

You must have had a mean fall. You’re completely crumpled on the stairs, one of your legs curled under you and one outstretched behind you as though it’s slipped back. Both of your elbows are braced underneath your body, keeping your face from smacking into the corner of the stair. James is willing to bet that big sound he’d heard was your knee hitting the step below you as you tripped. 

“Fuck,” you whine, pulling an entire loaf of bread from beneath your other elbow. The middle has been completely crushed, smashed between your forearm and the edge of a step. You look genuinely distraught about it. 

“Did you hurt your knee?” James frets, fighting the urge to haul you up off the stairs so he can look you over properly. He does take your other elbow in hand, using a firm grip to encourage rather than haul. You get more or less upright. 

“I’m okay.” You sound a bit odd, though he supposes you could be winded by the fall. “Thanks, sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” James can’t help it if a bit of teasing makes its way into his voice. This is something the two of you always do, you overapologizing and him making fun of you for it. “It seems like if anyone ought to be apologizing, it should be the stairs.” 

Your mouth tips up slightly. “Solid point,” you concede. 

The load in James’ chest lightens at your willingness to fall back into a casual repartee. He rubs the point of your elbow distractedly. “Wanna tell me why you’re taking an entire loaf of bread to your room?” he asks, grinning. “Do you have a secret stash of sandwich-making supplies in there?”

He feels goosebumps erupt on the side of your arm, and he does his best to soothe those, too. It must be too cold in here for you. “No,” you say quietly.

“Mm. I thought we were past this, angel. Come downstairs, I’ve still got leftover pasta in the fridge.”  

He starts to lead you down, but before he’s made it two steps you say, “No, thank you.” 

“Oh, come off it.” James shoots you another easy grin, hoping to loosen you up. “Don’t be a martyr. I’m all for carbs, but bread by itself will hardly sustain you.” 

“I don’t have much choice.” You shrug, and your shoulders stay up higher than they had been. You seem embarrassed. He waits, intrigued. “It’s sort of the only thing I can keep down at the moment.” 

It takes a blink for James to understand. “Are you not feeling well?” 

“Not very.” Your voice is softer than soft, swallowed up by the nerves James thought he’d earned an exemption from but nonetheless can’t hold against you in this state. 

He can see it, now. The way you’re holding yourself, like you could curl up on the floor at any given moment. Your face is shiny and your eyes slightly unfocused, glazed. 

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” It comes out more caring than he’d ever meant for it to, but James is too worried about you to dwell much upon that. You bat his hand away weakly, but he just moves them both to your cheeks, feeling himself frown. “You’re burning up, love. Why didn’t you say?” 

“Not much to say.” You move away from his touch, backing towards your room. James pursues you, hand hovering near your elbow because you really do look like you could pass out. "It's a stomach bug. It'll pass."

“I could have been helping you if I knew. I just thought you were avoiding me,” he admits. You look so sorry he’s quick to smooth things over with a smile. “Do you need me to get you anything from the store?”

“I already went.” You slump onto your bed before seeming to realize he’s still behind you, your brows coming down. “I’ve got everything I need, but thanks.” 

“You went to the store like this?” James is aghast. “You should be resting! How high is your fever?” 

“Dunno.” You seem to give up uncharacteristically quickly on getting him to leave, sighing and sinking back against a propped-up pillow. “I don’t have a thermometer.” 

“You don’t?” He’s more frazzled by the second, every way in which you’re not being properly taken care of piling onto the last. It seems a miracle you’re still alive. 

You look suspicious. “Do you?” 

Shit. He grins sheepishly. “No...” 

But that doesn’t change the fact that you should, for some reason. People like James are allowed to coast through the world unprepared because responsible ones like you always have the things they need. 

He feels your face again. This time, you let him. Your breath fans warm over his wrist, those fever-glazed eyes drooping slightly. 

“Your hand is cold,” you say through a sigh. 

“I think you’re just hot,” James mutters, but that doesn’t stop him from stroking his thumb over your cheek, just once. Your lashes flutter closed, and his heart does an impressive flip in his chest. 

“Have you had paracetamol?” he asks you. 

You hum. James sweeps his thumb over your cheek again, hoping to rouse you, but it only seems to worsen your drowsiness. Your head actually lolls into his touch. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you say without opening your eyes. “You need to stop doing that, m’gonna fall asleep.” 

“You should be sleeping,” he says softly. It’s impossible to keep the fondness from his voice. “I’m gonna get you a cold flannel, okay?” 

Your eyelids crack open. “I don’t need you to take care of me,” you say, voice nearly slurring with sleepiness. “I’ve always done fine, by myself.” 

“You never neglect to remind me.” James slips his hand from beneath your face, going to the bathroom between your bedrooms. “I don’t mind helping, though. You don’t always have to do everything on your own, what are roommates for?” 

You make a quiet, breathy sound he suspects might be a laugh. “None of my other roommates were ever as nice to me as you are. I think you’re taking things beyond the requirements of the job.” 

James thinks so, too. But still. Regardless of the complicated feelings he’s starting to have for you, you’ve always deserved to be treated with care. 

“You mean to tell me,” he says, wringing out the flannel and going back to your room, “that if you were this poorly, none of your previous roommates would have offered to help?” 

Your eyes are open more fully now. You watch him as he lays the flannel on your forehead, smoothing away a couple of baby hairs before they can get trapped underneath, with an odd expression on your face. 

“I handle my own problems,” you say softly. 

James’ thumb is still stroking the baby hairs at your temple. He can’t get it to stop. 

“Maybe your problems could be my problems, too,” he says. The lightness of his tone is automatic, but it serves as no representation of the great and weighty feeling in his chest. He realizes his breathing has synced to yours. Quiet inhales and exhales in your quiet apartment. 

Your eyes slip closed again. “Why?” you murmur. 

James doesn’t have an answer for that. Not one he’s ready to think about. The lines of your face smooth out as you relax. More evidence of frowns than smiles, but he likes to think he’s made progress on the little creases fanning out from the corners of your eyes since he’s moved in. He feels a pang of triumph any time they make an appearance, little rays of sunshine on a wholly lovely face. 

Because he’s your roommate. Because whether you’re ready to admit it or not, he’s your friend. Because he cares about you. 

In the end, James doesn’t have to come up with an answer. You’re already asleep. 

[endursent]

WHAT IF astral express sunday would be too nervous to hold readers hand or hugging them bc his brain goes 💥 until he gets used to it and softens up to reader waa 🎉🎉

HES SO SILLY i want him to explode

【 content; sunday x reader , astral express sunday , fluff , character exploration, mild suggestiveness in one section , gn!reader 】

【 note; see sunday mention. NEURON ACTIVATED. i have neglected sunday writing for too long, it's time to sunday post more. 】

【 word count; 1.818 | read on ao3 | masterlist 】

Even after properly defining your relationship as “definitely happening”, Sunday still struggles to adjust to it—not because he doesn’t know what to do specifically, but because he fails to follow through with a lot of it. 

  As soon as he meets your eyes and feels the warmth of your skin at the same time, his brain halts in place like a deer caught in headlights—something about the affection and love in your gaze causes him to freeze, to hesitate and draw back. 

  He wants to enjoy that warmth, he wants to touch your cheek and gaze into your eyes for hours on end, examining every detail of your iris until he has it mapped better than the back of his own hand… but his heart tightens and his arms tingle when he tries. 

  He’s afraid, scared to overstep thresholds whose doors have long since opened wide for his presence. Afraid to take a wrong turn in the endless hallways of his thoughts and what-ifs.

  You don’t push him, you give him time to consider his movement and actions and proceed in the ways he feels comfortable—but you don’t let him pull back too far either. You grasp his hand as it pulls too close to his chest and he swallows when you bring it to yours, you press his palm against your chest and allow him to feel your heartbeat—quickened, excited, yet nervous as well. Sometimes, you’re also nervous. It’s okay to hesitate. 

  Mere moments like brushing his fingers against yours on accident are enough for his head-wings to shoot up into the air. You had simply been reaching for a pistachio in a bowl on a table where you sat with Sunday next to you, and he had coincidentally reached out as well. “A-ah, my apologies,” he pulls his hand back, wings lowering again as one moves halfway up his cheek in a meagre attempt to disguise the dusty red of his cheeks. 

  A small smile tugs on your lips and you take an additional nut to give to him. “It’s okay, here.” He holds his palm open for you to place the pistachio in, but instead of doing so, you peel the shell away with a click and hold it towards his lips. “Open up.”

  Five or so muscles in his face twitch as he leans back, surprised by your sudden approach and the very intimate gesture of trying to feed him—his eyes flicker to the left where Himeko is positively destroying March 7th in a card game, they’re not paying any attention to the two of you at all. 

  Sunday’s lips press together and for a moment you wonder if you might have pushed him a little too far, the red hue of his cheeks deepening as he avoids your eyes… and opens his mouth, just a little—barely enough to fit the small pistachio there.

  Your fingers touch his lips as you manage to set the pistachio on the tip of his tongue hiding only a little behind the bottom row of his teeth, and Sunday thinks he might explode. The way his upper lip lifted a little and a small drop of drool slid under his tongue—thankfully out of sight but definitely not out of mind—when your finger pushed under it to set the nut in his mouth…

  He swallows the pistachio quickly and nervously without chewing it and it almost stops in his throat before he could even realise what he was doing. Sunday might have just perished from embarrassment before the lack of oxygen would kill him were the pistachio to stop in his throat.

  Sunday hasn’t stepped off the Express in a while, he does so rather often, all things considered—usually choosing to at least peek out at the worlds you explore. After all, how can he find himself if he doesn’t look? 

  But he has never experienced a planet like this… you could convince him this is some intergalactically funded horror exhibition if you tried. Long stretches of trees and branches reach into the skies, casting dark shadows on the dull grass that covers the ground as far as one can see. The skies are dark when you hop off the train and practically drag Sunday along.

  He walks close to you, unsure if to reassure himself of your presence among the shadows, or to be ready to give his assistance were you to catch your foot on a root and crash on the ground—you’re walking so fast he can't help but think it’s just a matter of time.

  You feel something touch your thumb and look down, only to see Sunday’s gloved hand retreat. He’s looking ahead and pretending there is nothing strange happening. “Are you scared?” you wonder, tilting your head to get a better look at his face.

  A small frown tugs at his lips, so faint you could barely see it. “Of course not, but I am concerned about us getting lost—do you know where we’re going?” 

  “Kind of,” you sway your hand a little, seeing if you can fish at where he has retracted his to. “Pom-Pom mentioned there a huge city not far from where we dropped down, this world has some real good puddings if I read right.”

  Sunday merely hums in response, following you along. You did finally find the city—high buildings made of darkened wood, but with bright lanterns and strings of lights hanging between buildings to illuminate the streets in a comfortable orange. All the ambiance needs is rain (and for you two be inside a nice café) and it’s perfect.

  The streets, however, are a labyrinth. 

  You get lost only seven minutes after reaching the city, and no matter how you squinted at your phone, you couldn’t wrap your head around the map—and it doesn’t help that despite the darkness, it’s midday, and thus the streets and crowded near shoulder-to-shoulder. This place must be popular despite the gloomy atmosphere. 

  Having almost lost sight of you wandering around trying to get your bearings in the crowd, Sunday gathers his courage and stomps down his thoughts—and takes your hand. 

  You stop where you’re going and turn to look at him. “Hm? Is something wrong?”

  He still avoids your eyes, but his grip is firm. “You’re… still going in the wrong direction.”

  “I am?” you look back down to your phone and tilt it sideways. “Ah! Like this, I get it now… I think.”

  Sunday sighs, stepping closer to you as a person shoulder past your positions—and suddenly the two of you are standing far closer than planned, nearly pressed against the wall of a building that leads to the corner of the street. He can’t stop thinking about your hand against his gloved one, and he also can’t help but notice that your fingers feel cold.

  As you try to figure out the best path towards the mythical pudding, holding your phone out for Sunday to see as well, his fingers and palm engulf yours and try to move some of his heat to you. His thumb rubs over your palm as you speak and the lack of proper reaction from you, yet still laying your hand out to him, helps him find the gesture more natural and comfortable… something he wouldn’t mind indulging in more often. 

  Sunday is a very passive person when it comes to affections, he’s rarely the one to reach out first and needs a bit of a push to even come up with romantic gestures. He considers the time you spend together and the understanding between you to be much more precious and indicative of his affections.

  However, he gets an idea one time from something he saw when scrolling his phone… to leave notes around. Sunday wasn’t sure of it at first—and a little embarrassed that someone else might find them before you do—but gradually began to find it as an easy way to show his attention. 

  Sometimes, the notes have a small message on them (mostly reminding you to sleep more) but other times, there’s no message at all. He came to use it as a ‘I thought of you’ message, where he leaves a blank, small post-it on something. 

  One time you forgot to buy new toothpaste on the Express’ most recent stop and dreaded having to borrow from someone again—until you opened the drawer to fetch your toothbrush and saw a full tube with a small blue post-it on it… now you need to go over to his room and rub his cheeks and thank him for remembering your complaints about always forgetting to buy a new one. 

  Sunday is a surprisingly good caretaker, you caught some sort of cold or flu on a recent trip off the express and have been miserable in bed for days. Up and down, hot and cold, snot-filled and gross on all ends. But he sits down by your bedside and takes your temperature, lays the back of his hand against your heated skin and does all he can to help. 

  One aspect he struggled with was when you got whiny one evening and reached out for a hug…

  While you might mistake his hesitation for disgust, as you are snot-nosed, puffy eyed and half crying from misery—it’s far from what was on his mind. But Sunday feels his chest tighten at the sight of you so miserable, temporary as it is, and he doesn’t have the heart to refuse your embrace. 

  He leans down and lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your clammy forehead rubbing into his shirt as he stiffly pats your head and tries to soothe you. “It’s alright… your fever is going down, you’ll be okay soon, just remember to drink the water on the nightstand, okay?” he mumbles by your ear, and the more you nod and thank him for taking care of you, the more his muscles ease and he shifts a bit to lay down with you, allowing you to burrow into the crook of his neck and find comfort in his presence. 

  Sunday rests his chin over your head and rubs your back. “Would you like me to sing for you?”

  You nod into his shoulder and he closes his mouth to hum familiar tunes, the beginning of a familiar song as the vibrations in his chest rumble against you. His voice is soothing, and his singing is surprisingly soft and gentle. 

  As you drift to well-needed sleep, Sunday stays with you until he’s certain you’ve fallen asleep… and then for a while more, just long enough that he can’t imagine tearing himself away from you—or risking waking you up by rising from the bed. Perhaps it’s alright if he stays the night here, after all, he needs to make sure you hydrate through the night.

[littlespoonevan]

never knew i wanted you so bad

whatever you do don't listen to roots by grace davies and think about 8b eddie🫠 8x13 coda bc i will not know peace until we get a buckley-diaz family reunion

Eddie props his phone up against an empty mug on the coffee table, feeling Chris shift in anticipation at his side while the FaceTime dial tone rings out. They don’t have to wait long for Buck to pick up – he’s pretty sure Buck hasn’t let any phone call go beyond three rings since he got to Texas.

When the call connects there’s a moment where Eddie thinks Buck is frozen but then Chris exclaims a, “Hey Buck!” and Eddie watches what must’ve been shock on Buck’s face melt into something soft and familiar.

“God, it feels good to see the two of you next to each other again,” Buck says, exhaling a little laugh. “Hey, buddy. I missed you.”

The words make Eddie’s stomach clench and he can’t help tightening his hold around Chris, if only because he’s the only one of the two of them Eddie can actually reach for. He knows Buck has stayed in contact with Chris these past few months. It’s mostly been through stupid memes he sends into the groupchat the three of them have but they haven’t talked on the phone except for the few times Buck has been there when Eddie was FaceTiming Chris.

“Miss you too,” Chris says, leaning a little more into Eddie’s side so he can see the phone better. “How’s the house? What’s it look like with all your stuff in it?”

Buck grins, big and bright, and the camera jostles for a second as he clearly picks up his phone. “You want a tour?”

Buck takes them on a tour of their house, something he hasn’t actually done in all the times he and Eddie have been on FaceTime. Eddie can always tell what part of the house he’s in but usually the screen is taken up by Buck’s face. Now, he walks them from room to room while Chris makes fun of him for laying out the house the exact same way they did except with his own stuff instead.

“What can I say?” Buck shrugs when he turns the camera back to his face. “Your dad’s got an eye for interior decorating.”

Eddie looks at his current living room that’s not quite falling down around him anymore but still isn’t in the best shape and says, “Think you might be thinking a little too highly of me with that one, Buck.”

In truth, seeing Buck’s furniture from the loft fill up his house feels…complicated. But he doesn’t hate it. Buck’s stuff is as familiar to him as his own that seeing it now doesn’t feel wrong. It’s just- strange. Like everything in the house has shifted slightly off centre. It’s right but it’s not.

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Buck quips, waggling his eyebrows, and Eddie is suddenly hit with a fierce ache of missing him.

It’s funny; they’ve talked on the phone so much since he moved it’s been easy sometimes to imagine that nothing has changed, that Buck is still right where he needs him. And he is, technically. He’s staying in Eddie’s house so Eddie can be here with Chris.

But there’s also a thought somewhere in the back of his head telling him where he really needs Buck is here.

They talk for a little while longer, with Chris catching Buck up on the past couple of weeks. Eddie is happy to let their conversation wash over him as he basks in the feeling of finally having Chris back where he belongs. And if he closes his eyes it could be any regular Saturday night between the three of them.

Eventually though Chris announces he’s going to order him and Eddie takeout since Eddie is apparently going to be too busy talking to Buck to make them dinner.

“Hey, me and your dad cook on FaceTime together all the time,” Buck says on the other end of the line but Chris waves him away. Even though it’s true. Eddie doesn’t think he’s cooked a single meal since he moved here without Buck on the phone.

“Yeah, but I want to order pizza, Buck. So just distract Dad a little longer, okay?”

Buck laughs and Eddie laughs with him, privately relieved Chris is joking about this kind of stuff again. Eddie runs a hand through his hair and lets him get up.

“My wallet’s in my-”

“In your jacket pocket, I know,” Chris interrupts, already making a beeline for where Eddie left it in the kitchen.

Eddie watches him go for a second before turning back to the phone.

“Man, how has that kid gotten so big in just a few months?” Buck asks with a sigh.

It’s a thought Eddie’s had too many times since he’s come back to in El Paso but Chris has never felt younger to him than he did today. He saw him at the tournament and all he could think was that that was his baby and he needed to protect him.

Picking up the phone from the coffee table, he allows himself to slouch back against the couch cushions. “You should see how tall he is now. Practically up to my shoulder.”

Buck smiles but the longing in his eyes is impossible to miss and Eddie wishes, not for the first time, they didn’t have to do this over FaceTime. He seems to rally after a beat, redirecting his attention to Eddie and lowering his voice, presumably in case Chris is still within earshot.

“What about you? How’s it feel having him back?”

Eddie blows out a breath, dragging his free hand over his face. “It’s a relief,” he says. “Feel like I can finally breathe for the first time in months.”

“I’ll bet,” Buck murmurs and Eddie watches him for a moment.

Even through the grainy FaceTime camera he’s easy to read. The faint sheen in his eyes, the curve of his mouth settled into the kind of smile Eddie thinks he’s only ever seen directed at himself and it’s-

It’s a reminder, suddenly. That the ache in his chest – the one he’s been carrying around for months since he lost Christopher – isn’t entirely gone. It should be. He thought it was.

But maybe this ache isn’t for Christopher.

“I miss you.”

He says it softly, the words spilling out over the waver in his voice and the lump in his throat, and it’s like he can finally let himself feel it now. Now that Chris is safe under the same roof as him. Now that he did what he came here to do. When he and Chris had talked on the drive home – really, when Chris had said, “You’ll be my dad again?” and shattered his heart to pieces – Eddie had had a realisation.

That he could’ve come to take Chris home at any point and Chris would’ve let him. That Chris wanted him to do that. That he could’ve done all of this without moving.

And maybe- maybe it wouldn’t have worked out that way and maybe it would’ve just pushed Chris further away but it doesn’t stop the traitorous part of his brain from imagining where he and Chris would be now.

In a plane or a car. Going home to the only place that’s ever felt like home.

On his phone, Buck’s expression crumbles but he recovers quickly, offering Eddie a tremulous smile. “Miss you too.”

And Eddie opens his mouth to say- something, probably, but he’s interrupted by a yell of, “Dad, do you want pepperoni?” from the kitchen.

He blinks, clearing his throat and glancing away from his phone towards the sound of Chris’ voice. “Sounds good, bud!”

When he looks back to the screen Buck is staring at him with something knowing in his eyes and Eddie can’t help blurting out, “Stay for dinner?”

“What?”

“I- I mean,” he stutters. “Stay on the call? Order your own pizza. We can watch a movie, sync it up so we both press play at the same time and it’ll be like-”

Like normal.

Like before.

Like you’re really here.

Buck is silent for a beat too long and Eddie has the hysterical thought that somehow this is thing that made him push too far but then Buck lets out a hesitant, “Uh, sure.”

He nods to himself then and the smile that makes its way back onto his face is real. “Yeah, okay. I’ll- Let me just go into the app to order.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, fond and a little bit too filled with yearning. “You can hang up the phone to order your pizza, Buck.”

“It’s okay,” Buck says. “I don’t want to.”

And, well. Eddie doesn’t really want him to either.

*

[blue-jisungs]

hi hi hi!!! is it possible to request for long distance relationship with piwon? and thank you for your contributions within the p1ece community with all of these masterpieces you've made 🫡

[ 💌 ] long distance relationship w piwon

# author’s note ... ahhh sorry it took so long:(( TYSM FOR RQING THO N FOR UR NICE WORDS HEHE!!! i got a bunch of piwon reqs and u dont even know how excited i am to write them mwhaahahah <333

┆彡 KEEHO [ 기호 ]

i feel like he’d be the strongest soldier amongst them all

because he’s just so chronically online LMFAO 

no but even if you don’t text everyday (which happens, given his busy schedules), there’s always a way that keeho will reach out 

sends you reels on insta, sends you tiktok’s he found or he filmed, you can see his bereal, you can see what he’s listening to on airbuds … like he makes sure you know he’s safe n sound (i hope that makes sense?!) 

and he clings to every notification from you as well!!! 

like oh, you just hit another milestone on duolingo?? he’s texting you asap !!!

also the type to spam you with photos of things that remind him of you:(((( 

he loooves to face time you but more often than not the call always ends up interrupted by one of the boys 😭😭😭

┆彡 INTAK [ 인탁 ]

he’s so loverboy im actually gonna cry 

he was not build for this please save him from this misery 😿😿😿 

cannot survive without calling you at LEAST twice a day. like for real. 

will spam you with i love yous and i miss yous so so much because he just wants to be sure that you know his feelings for you are unchanged:(

facetiming is a must as well, he’ll often do that at the end of his (or yours if you’re in diff time zone) day so you can talk before going to sleep:( 

won’t admit but loves when you fall asleep on ft:( like at least he can adore your sleepy face like he does when he’s with you:(

deffo buys everything that he thinks you’d like so when you reunite he has BAGS of gifts:(

(can you tell i love him so dearly.)

┆彡 THEO [ 테오 ]

he’s so:< 

checks up on you everyday!!!!! tracks your lil icon on find my and calls you sometimes like “oh i saw you’re in your fav cafe, what are you getting?” 

i believe he’s a romantic okay? so you two deffo have those apps for couples that like ,, you can draw something and it’ll pop up on his screen 

or locket! :( like he loves getting notifs n he deffo stares at the silly selfies you take:(((( 

he also sends flowers for you, sometimes no matter the occasion <\\3 may or may not send a bottle of his cologne because he just knows you’ll feel less lonely if you can smell his perfume🥹🥹🥹

he’s sooo nostalgic❤️‍🩹 will scroll through your pics and videos… watch them all the time… m smile so fondly at the screen (while others make fun of him >:T) 

has bought tickets to your place impulsively… at least three times 

(and obv used them ?! like hellour he won’t waste the money now that he bought them !!! )

┆彡 JIUNG [ 지웅 ]

please end his suffering pt2 

he is physically sick when you’re not around !!! (his tummy hurts… well, his heart too…) 

spams you all day everyday – he saw a cute cat? sent. cool clothes? sent and asking for advice. a dead frog on the street? sent with caption ‘me when you’re 372028193 km away’ 

selfies too!!! you’ll get soooo many selcas bc he just knows you miss his face (and worry not, you send yours in return!! he kicks his legs like a teenage girl whenever he sees them~~) 

facetimes you (or you him) even when doing the most mundane things ever… you could be studying in silence and he’ll be playing on his switch, none of you talking because you’re locked in… but he steals glances at the screen and your face,,, mentally counting down days when you’re gonna meet again 🥹

literally thinks about you sm that he can’t help but mention you whenever he can:( “omg yn would love that!” “oooo this is yn’s favorite snack!!” “i need to take a pic for yn!!!” 

atp his friends scheme how to get him to you ASAP!!!

┆彡 SHOTA [ 翔太 ]

i feel like he’d handle it the worst actually:( but only bc he’s just such a lover boy, he needs you close:( 

keeho or other members will often send you pictures of sulking shota once you hang up on face time <\3 

will spam you even with single kaomojis so you’re an expert with those, professional translator if you will

definitely spams you with lots of content too, like pics of plushies, his short blogs, food pics 

requires food pics in return (secretly makes sure you do eat this way) 

when he’s feeling like a little tease, he’ll send lots of pics with keeho when they’re hugging and caption them with something sassy 😭 

deffo tracks you on find my when he’s bored but deep down he just checks up on you and makes sure you’re safe 

┆彡 JONGSEOB [ 종섭 ]

you’re literally vlogging to each other 😭😭😭 voice memos or insta stories just for him !! 

and you bet your ass he’ll reply to every single one 

loves face timing you when he’s writing new songs… you’re his muse (but it’s not like he’ll say it out loud) 

definitely looks at your pictures with a whipped smile (and got caught sooo many times but they don’t tease him that much since he’s just so in love it hurts

another one to use every app possible to keep in touch w you HOWEVER he’s not very cheesy,,, so expect him to doodle theo with a big butt in return to your hearts and flowers 

sending memes and reels is his love language, will send lots with the caption “us when i get back” :(( 

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,,

@mon2sunjinsuver ,, @litepowee

[mbruben-stein]

Hellooo! I was wondering if you would be open to writing a 2012 leo x fem reader? The scenario would be him getting jealous of someone (maybe one of the brothers or casey etc.) talking with reader too much? They arnt dating though, so his jealousy is confusing until he explains that it's bc of his love for her. That's just a general idea of it - you can do whatever you feel motivated to write!! Ty I love ur work!! 💕

Jealousy

~Leo x fem reader.~

You laughed as Casey finished telling you an amusing story about his latest hockey match. The two of you were hanging out in the lair, sitting on the couch and chatting while the turtles trained with Master Splinter.

"Man Casey, only you could score a goal and take out two opponents at the same time by 'accident'," you teased, making air quotes.

"What can I say, I've got mad skills," Casey bragged jokingly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Seriously though, you should come watch me play sometime. I'll dedicate all my goals to you."

"Sure, I'd like that," you agreed with a smile. Casey was like a brother to you and you enjoyed spending time with him, even if he could be a bit of a goofball.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Leo pause in the middle of a kata, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at you and Casey. There was an unreadable expression on his face before he quickly resumed training. Strange, you thought. Leo had been acting a bit off lately, becoming withdrawn whenever you hung out with Casey or one of his brothers. You wondered if something was bothering him.

As if on cue, Leo finished training and headed over to where you and Casey were sitting. "Hey guys, what's up?" he asked, trying to sound casual but you could hear a slight edge to his voice.

"Not much, just swapping stories," you replied. "Casey was inviting me to watch one of his games."

"Oh. Well don't let me interrupt," Leo said tersely. He crossed his arms. "Seems like you two have been hanging out a lot lately."

You furrowed your brow in confusion at Leo's tone. "Um, I guess? Casey's my friend. Is there a problem with that?"

"No, no problem," Leo responded, not quite meeting your eyes. "Anyway, I've got some things to take care of. See you around." With that, he turned and strode out of the room.

"Geez, what's eatin' him?" Casey wondered. "He's acting weirder than usual."

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," you declared, getting up to follow after the blue-masked turtle. This moodiness was very unlike Leo and you were determined to get to the bottom of it.

You found Leo in the dojo, angrily thwacking away at the practice dummy. He didn't acknowledge your presence, just kept pummeling the dummy with increasing intensity.

"Leo? Is everything okay?" you asked hesitantly, approaching him.

"Everything's fine," he grunted, not pausing his assault.

You sighed. "Come on Leo, talk to me. You've been acting strange lately, especially whenever I'm around Casey or your brothers. What's going on?"

At the mention of Casey's name, Leo delivered a particularly vicious punch that nearly knocked the dummy's head off. He stood there breathing heavily for a moment before finally turning to face you.

"You want to know what's going on? I'll tell you," he said, an uncharacteristic harshness in his voice. "I don't like how much time you've been spending with them, especially Casey. You're always laughing and joking around with him."

You stared at Leo, taken aback. "I don't understand. Casey and the others are my friends. Why should it matter how much I hang out with them? And why single out Casey?"

Leo let out a frustrated noise, running a hand over his face. When he looked at you again, the hardness was gone, replaced by vulnerability.

"Because I'm jealous, okay?" he admitted quietly. "I'm jealous of how easy it is for them to make you smile and laugh. I'm jealous that you seek them out to spend time with. And I'm especially jealous of Casey because..." He swallowed hard. "Because I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time."

Your eyes widened and your heart began to race at his confession. "Leo..."

"I know. It's stupid," he said, looking away in embarrassment. "I mean, I'm a mutant turtle. How could I ever think you would feel the same way? You deserve a normal life, with a normal guy..."

"Leo, stop," you interrupted, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm. He glanced back at you in surprise. "I don't want normal. I want you."

"You do?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it.

You nodded, smiling softly. "I love you too, Leo. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner. I guess I was a little oblivious to why you were acting so weird around me lately."

The hopeful smile that spread across Leo's face was quite possibly the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. Slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted, he reached out and cupped your cheek with his large hand.

"Is this really happening?" he murmured, gazing into your eyes intently. "I keep thinking I must be dreaming."

"If it is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up," you whispered back.

Needing no further encouragement, Leo closed the remaining distance and captured your lips with his in a searing kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut as you looped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to his solid body. His hands dropped to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in his embrace. All of the pent-up longing and desire you both had been repressing came pouring out. Your hands roamed over the hard planes of his shoulders and shell, marveling at the strength you felt there. His own hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers leaving trails of fire on your skin.

You nipped playfully at Leo's bottom lip, eliciting a low churr from deep in his chest. Your tongue darted out to soothe the bite and he eagerly granted you access, your tongues tangling together. You were both panting when you eventually broke apart for air.

"Wow..." you breathed, resting your forehead against his. "That was..."

"Incredible," Leo finished, a blissful smile on his face. "I love you so much, Y/N."

"I love you too, Leonardo," you murmured, saying his full name. "My fearless leader."

He chuckled at the nickname before sobering. "I'm sorry for acting like such a jealous idiot before. I should have just talked to you instead of letting it fester."

"I'm sorry too, for not picking up on the signals," you replied. "But I'm glad it all worked out in the end. And Leo? You have nothing to be jealous about. You're the only one for me."

Joy and adoration shone in Leo's blue eyes and he wrapped you up in a tight hug. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, savoring his closeness.

"Aw yeah, got it!" a voice suddenly cheered, startling you both. You whipped around to see Mikey grinning triumphantly, holding up his T-phone which was clearly recording. Raph and Donnie were right behind him, smirking.

"Mikey!" Leo scolded, flushing. "What the heck?"

"Dude, we've been waiting forever for you two to finally get together! This is totally going in the family scrapbook," Mikey declared.

"Ugh, now they're going to be even more disgustingly cute together," Raph fake gagged, but you could see the genuine happiness underneath his gruff exterior.

"As long as they keep the PDA to a minimum while I'm working in the lab, I fully support this," Donnie added, winking at you.

You buried your burning face in Leo's shoulder as the brothers continued teasing you good-naturedly. Leo wrapped an arm around you protectively.

"Alright, show's over, give them some privacy," another voice cut in. Casey strolled in with April close behind, both grinning ear to ear.

"Congrats you crazy kids, we're really happy for you," April said warmly.

"Thanks guys," you said, giving them a grateful smile. You glanced at Leo. "But would you mind clearing out for a bit? I'd like to have my boyfriend to myself for a while."

"Boyfriend, huh? I like the sound of that," Leo murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"As you wish. Try to keep it PG though!" Casey called cheekily over his shoulder as the group made their way out, leaving you and Leo alone once more.

Leo turned you in his arms so you were facing each other. "Now, where were we?" he purred, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You smirked, draping your arms over his shoulders. "I believe you were just about to kiss me senseless."

"Hmm, so I was."

And he proceeded to do just that, all thoughts of jealousy long forgotten. All that mattered was that you were finally his, and he was yours. Nothing could ever come between your love.

[augustjoy]

Scars

Based on the following ask: Hi 🤍 I hope your requests are not too full already - but for weeks I‘ve been dreaming about kind of shy Hotch (due to his scars he got from scratch Foyet yn) and I would die to read smut where he is kind of shy at first bc he thinks reader will not find him hot and ahh and she obviously does and they just have the best night eveeeer then bc he finally lets go 🫣 what do you think????? I would dieeeee to read it from you! – Hey lovely, this idea is really sweet, and I am going to keep it on the slow intimate side, I just feel like Aaron opening up about the scars would lead to something slow and passionate…still smut tho!

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Fluff/SMUT

Word count: 691

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, SMUT, mention of Foyet (the stabbing), established relationship with Hotch, explicit language, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than female anatomy, use of pet names, p in v, unprotected sex, anxiety, a little body dysmorphia…let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The door flew open as the lock gave way. Aaron had you pressed against it, lips connected in a passionate kiss. His hands were gripping the hem of your shirt, right where it rested at your waist.

See here’s the thing, Aaron and you had been seeing one another for a few months now. With his job keeping him incredibly busy, you assured him there was no pressure, you’d go on dates and get to know one another when he was in town. That, you were okay with…but what was becoming increasingly frustrating was the fact that you hadn’t had sex yet.

Now, you’d be perfectly fine with taking things slow, only Aaron hasn’t said anything. He instead had just done everything he can to avoid getting in a compromising position with you…but tonight, it seems like that might change.

--

Your shirt was lost somewhere in the entryway along with both of your shoes and Aaron’s coat. His lips had made their way down to where your shoulder and neck met. Aaron was walking behind you, carefully leading you to his bedroom.

As you passed the threshold, Aaron spun you around. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap. He let his lips meet yours once again while you let your hands slide down to the buttons of his dress shirt. After you’d gotten a few open, Aaron grabbed your wrists and froze.

When you pulled back you were met with his pained expression, and even deeper, fear had been written behind it.

You were quick to pull your hands back and step down off of Aaron’s lap.

--

“I’m sorry Aaron. I shouldn’t have.”

“No! Don’t apologize.” Aaron began, hesitantly. “Sweetheart, I need to show you something. Something I have been worried about…which is why I’ve been avoiding this.” He gestured between the two of you.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, Aaron unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor.

“It was a case we were working years ago. The unsub…he had broken into my home, and then this happened.”

A quiet gasp escaped you. Adorning Aaron’s body were nine nearly identical scars. Your gaze met his as you lifted your hand, pulling it back, afraid to upset him. He offered a small nod, grabbing your hand and bringing it to rest on his bare chest. Your fingers danced from one scar to the next, a tear silently making its way down your cheek.

Aaron reached up, wiping it away with his thumb. “What’s wrong honey.” He asked.

“I just can’t believe someone would do this to you.”

Aaron and you shared a quiet moment of understanding. His job was dangerous and sometimes he got hurt because of it, but he came out the other side…with newfound strength each time.

--

You’re not quite sure when the air shifted, but one moment you were sat there holding one another, and the next, you were sharing a heated kiss, attempting to remove the remainder of your clothing.

Once you were both fully stripped, Aaron settled himself against the headboard, reaching his hand out for you. He pulled you into his lap, at first, just holding you there while his lips explored the expanse of your neck.

Your hands found their way to Aaron’s hair, carding through it…tugging ever so slightly. He shifted the two of you ever so slightly so he could ease himself into your heat. Your head falling back, loving every bit of the stretch.

Aarons arms were wrapped tightly around you, desperately gripping you to him, as you gently rocked back and forth. This wasn’t about the sex…this was about vulnerability and intimacy. A moment where two people have bared their souls to one another.

--

The two of you spent the evening wrapped in the sheets, a mess of tangled limbs. You expressed your love for one another in ways you hadn’t before. This was the beginning of you future, one in which you wouldn’t have to hold back. One in which Aaron wasn’t afraid of what you might think.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[keyotos]

➳ you're my achilles heel

summary ⎯ niche microtropes w/ the hsr men! emphasis on the micro (not rlly)

includes ⎯ dan heng, aventurine & jing yuan

tana talks ⎯ who's missed me? i've been gone for a HOT minute, and what other way to come back than kickstarting my 1k event: niche microtropes! more info about that will be here. thank you so so much for 1k!!!!

dan heng

when they both have to share a bed and one of them reveals it was the best night of sleep they've ever had

⎯ dan heng has made a lot of mistakes in his life, and letting march choose hotel rooms has to be one of them.

⎯ granted, he truly thought that march would do a good job at choosing the hotel, financial planning, and of course–choosing the rooms.

⎯ and everything was great. until you and dan heng had to share a bed.

you and dan heng shifted around the bed a few times before finally settling into designated spots. it was decided that dan heng would sleep on the outside, while you slept near the wall. his back faced you as he tucked himself into bed.

⎯ you and dan heng were friends. this awkwardness wasn't normal, and there should be no reason for the two of you to be avoiding each other like you are now. alas, here you are now, laying at least a foot apart.

⎯ the room is completely silent, and a bit cold as well. dan heng felt a breeze constantly grazing his shoulders. yeah. there was no way he could sleep like this

⎯ you, on the other hand, felt too hot. you had most of the blankets on your side and you felt SUFFOCATED. sometimes, it felt hard to breathe. but u weren't sure if that was just nerves or bc of how hot you felt.

⎯ ultimately, you are the one who has to make the first move.

"dan heng," you turned around and whispered, "are you cold?"

⎯ obviously, he was cold. but was he going to say anything about it?? no.

"i'm fine," he said, still facing his back towards you. "are you cold?" you gulped at the dry response. usually, you find yourself always wanting to talk to dan heng. he was never a boring converser, so why was he acting so strange tonight? but then again, you had no room to talk—you haven't said a word to dan heng until now.

⎯ at this point, you're a little frustrated at the lack of communication between the both of you. so—being the problem solver that you are—you decide to do something about it

slowly, you inch closer to dan heng—just to test the waters, of course. dan heng doesn't reach much, only a small head turn once he feels a dip in the mattress. you take some of the blanket and throw it over dan heng, awaiting his response.

⎯ meanwhile, dan heng over here is internally flipping out. when you inched towards him, dan heng could feel his heart skipping more than a few beats. and when you threw the blanket over him, dan heng wasn't sure if he felt warm due to the blanket or you.

⎯ when he finally turns over, you have to hide your wide eyes and slacked mouth underneath the blanket. you peer back up, and he's staring right at you.

"are... you okay?" you whisper underneath the blanket. "i'm cold," is all dan heng says. you hide your smile underneath the blanket, but you have a feeling dan heng knows you're smiling anyway. he's looking straight in your eyes after all.

⎯ and then you say it. you practically hit the pentagon.

you open up the blanket to where it reveals a dark silhouette of your body. "do you want to share?"

⎯ dan heng practically malfunctions. usually, there are always things dan heng says to fill the silence. he never runs out of words. not in a talkative way like march, but rather, he has an extensive vocabulary

⎯ this time though? haha. very funny. he's gone mute.

dan heng blinks at you while you hold the blanket open. you raise an eyebrow, taunting him. he squeezes his eyes shut, and then reopens them to find you still holding the blanket. was he halluncinating?

"i don't want to intrude." "oh please," you quietly laugh, "we're already sharing a bed. we crossed the line of intrusion a few hours ago."

⎯ and that sounds like a good deal to the both of you. except, one thing.

"are things going to change after this?" dan heng asks you. you're glad it's dark, so dan heng doesn't see you flush, "i don't see why things would change," you say, maintaining a calm face.

⎯ that's enough to get dan heng under the covers with you.

⎯ you two sleep wonderfully the rest of the night—you two even woke up early too. you were the one to wake up first. the sun shone on your face, yet you didn't even feel the glare at all. you felt energized, which was weird considering that you went to bed at questionable hour last night.

⎯ oh, and you also felt a pair of arms over your waist too. and something pressing into your neck. and something wrapping around your legs. and you also feel really hot. is that from the sun????

⎯ yeah. it's going to be harder to keep your word.

aventurine

those dancing scenes where it just so happens that the lighting focuses on the two of you

⎯ lavish parties and extravagant events weren’t new to aventurine, who just so happened to stumble on one of the biggest on penacony

⎯ sometimes, the families hold galas. it’s more of an exclusive thing, so aventurine had to do some awkward mingling in order to get in. that includes a very awkward conversation with a security guard, who kept raising eyebrows at his outfit.

⎯ beforehand, he had no interest in going to this event. however, once faced with the possibility that he could gather intel, his mind quickly changed.

⎯ now, he is standing right next to you, the heir to penacony's iris family. in his short time on the planet, he's seen your face countless times: on billboards, commercials, and next to various items. but seeing it in person?

⎯ way. different.

"you've never been dancing before?" you lead the ipc executive, aventurine, down the halls of the iris family's ballroom. aventurine shakes his head as he follows you, "not once. though, as the iris family's biggest celebrity, i take it you're used to dances?" your eyes widen when you hear him utter the compliment, "i'm... i'm not sure i'm the biggest celebrity," you rub your neck sheepishly. you tilt your head back, "and i don't think i can remember a time where i didn't dance."

⎯ aventurine has one goal tonight, and it's to get information about the families. if all goes according to plan, then he'd have the upper hand on penacony itself, thus being able to use his knowledge as a bargaining chip for the ipc.

⎯ and if there's one thing aventurine is good at, it's bargains.

⎯ so now, aventurine is trying his hardest to charm you into giving out any information. because people like you always talk.

"that must've been nice," aventurine eggs you on, "from what i can tell, parties on penacony are always fun." you let out a small laugh, "i'm glad you think that." the two of you walk side-by-side, and you aren't saying a single thing. aventurine flexes his hand by his side, preparing to make more idle chatter. he's about to open his mouth when a bright, shining light beams onto the both of you.

⎯ from the look on your face, aventurine can tell that you did not like that. he stands there passively, awaiting for your next move.

⎯ what he did not expect was for you to hold out your hand for him.

"um," you clear your throat. your eyes dart around the room and you gulp, holding out your hand, "may i have this dance?"

⎯ aventurine meets your nervous eyes with his wide ones. it looks like the two of you have no other choice. eyes are on the both of you when aventurine takes your hand, and you pull him into a quiet space in the ballroom.

⎯ let's get one thing straight: aventurine does not know how to dance.

⎯ so currently, he's trying to avoid stepping on your toes, while trying to remain in sync with you. on the inside, aventurine is annoyed. there are ears everywhere, meaning that there's a bigger risk. however, aventurine is all about risks, and the night is still young.

"i thought you liked dances," aventurine purposefully whispers into your ear, and he can feel the heat rise up. his voice is sultry and sweet, and he hopes to get you addicted to it soon. you look up at him with crinkled eyes. the light is glaring on you, and it seems like you're glinting instead of shining. "i never said that." aventurine takes notice of the rise and fall of your chest—much faster than when the two of you met. the corner of his lip raises a little bit, "oh, i'm sorry. but are you uncomfortable? i thought you've been doing this for years? let me know if i can do anything to help?" he offers.

⎯ you only smile, and aventurine gives you a polite smile back. he follows your lead, waiting for you to say something, but you only lead him around the ballroom.

⎯ the light is still trailing after you, except it's beaming more on aventurine than you at this point.

⎯ it's beaming more on aventurine. oh. he gets it now.

"do you wanna get out of here?" he whispers in your ear once again. he has to try his hardest to bite down the smirk that was about to appear on his face. this was going to be easier than he thought. you grab his hand in a tight hold, "no," you firmly state, "we're staying here."

⎯ wow. what a shift of tone.

"i need your help," you mutter under your breath. "help me, and i'll do anything," you look up into his eyes, pleading with him through your gaze.

⎯ aventurine nearly steps on your feet. what?

"uh–what?" aventurine questions you as you keep moving.

"sneak me out of here. we can't go through the doors—there's the bloodhound family everywhere. but i need you to get me out," you beseech. you grab his hand, bringing it up to your chest and slowly sliding it down to your waist.

⎯ aventurine has to remind himself to keep his cool multiple times. breathe in, breathe out. what were you getting at here? why did you want to escape?

"listen, what i said earlier. about the parties. i need to get out," you spin yourself around and back into the blond. "help me," you connect your palms as you circle him, "and i'll help you," you intertwine your fingers together.

⎯ the light still glistens over the both of you. and aventurine thinks two things: he's gotten into something he didn't need to get into, and that he finally has a way into the family.

jing yuan

second chance romance, except the two of you have been keeping tabs on one another the entire time.

⎯ jing yuan's childhood is filled of fond memories: his old master, the bright and sunny days when he would train, and you.

⎯ you, who jing yuan would willingly miss trainings for. you, the brilliant and clever reporter who broadcasted for the people. you, who jing yuan had to let go.

⎯ he'd spend days rereading what you've wrote; whether it be small stories or big news on the luofu. everything you had written intoxicated him. however, all good things have to end eventually.

⎯ the break-up wasn't even technically a break up, because you two weren't even together. the harsh reality was that you two were just friends, so jing yuan has no actual reason to be moping around. people lose friends all the time, and with jing yuan's lifestyle, it was bound to be imminent.

⎯ as the general, jing yuan had new priorities, and it seems like you weren't one of them anymore.

⎯ so, you move on with your career. you founded the xianzhou's very own broadcasting channel, which aired to the millions of citizens across all ships. you're a superstar who hasn't left their core values. rather than the big stories, you focus on local ones. you focus on the people.

⎯ and general jing yuan... focuses on his job. sort of. not really.

⎯ can you really say that a general is focused on his job when he goes missing?

"jing yuan," your side aches once you utter his name, and you suppress an agonized moan, "why are you here?"

⎯ you know what they say, old habits die hard.

⎯ the founder of the xianzhou's broadcasting channel was found in critical condition a few days ago. you had been reporting on the a civil case that had struck on one of the ships, and—next thing you know—blood ran from your fingertips and you rushed into a critical care unit.

"how did you even get here?" you ask as you lift yourself up higher on the bed. jing yuan steps forward, but you move back. "i haven't spoken to you in years. you cut me off, and then you show up now? can i atleast get an explanation on how you found me?"

⎯ jing yuan's silence tells you all that you need to know. you keep up with the dozing general, even if you are off the luofu. because still, even after all these years, your heart trails after him.

"i wanted to see you," jing yuan blurts. his voice is much more deeper than you remember it to be. "so i contacted the hospital and told them that my old friend was in critical condition, and i needed to see you." you scoff, "an old friend is a stretch." you pause and look down at your hands. and then, a thought furrows in your mind. "wait, if you knew where i was hospitalized—you read my articles?" "i've never stopped."

⎯ oh. oh? oh????

⎯ safe to say that you were rendered speechless. the next five minutes were spent by you staring at jing yuan, jaw-dropped and all.

"how long?" you asked. "too long," jing yuan dryly chuckles. "since i left."

⎯ the air is thick, and things are obviously tense. and there are so many things to talk about. so many things to tell him. such as how you've surfed before (it was a big dream of yours). or how you finally adopted the cat you always wanted (you hope he brings up his lion).

⎯ and while you sit there, you realize that you've missed this. how could you even live without this for hundreds of years? without him? was it surreal to feel so strongly about a person that left so long ago?

⎯ so many milestones missed. so many to make up for. so many things to talk about. so many things to clear up. and you still want to do it all with jing yuan.

⎯ does he still want to do it with you?

you clear your throat, attempting to sit up straighter. you're struggling, and you've never felt so embarrassed in your life. while trying to adjust yourself once more, you see a shadow appear above you, and it's the one and only jing yuan. "do you need help?" he asks, holding his arm out for you as support. you take it gladly, pulling yourself up by grabbing onto his (big) forearm. "thank you," you dust yourself off, checking your side for any rips in your stitches. "now," you begin, letting out a shaky breath, "i think... i think we're overdue for a chat."

⎯ you knew jing yuan. you'd like to know him now. jing yuan knew you too, and now—judging by the look on his face—he'd like to know you too.

god i've missed the hc's so much. like i'm truly going back to my roots here. be honest did y'all miss the hc's too or was that just me????

[noctiva]

Penny for your thoughts, tiva darling??

Wanted to pick ur brain some more about our favorite deranged murder malewives :3 what do you think some of Toby and Ej’s favorite positions are in bed?? 🤔 (word vomit incoming bc that’s just what I do here ig)

I feel like Jackie boi would be into the more primal shit (go figure!!) like rlly into manhandling and just how absurd his size is compared to yours and takes full advantage of just wrangling you abt however he sees fit as if u were a little doll,,,like fuckin u from behind but towering over you and taking hold of ur neck so u have no choice but to stare up at this BEAST behind u just goin ham grunting and growling away….yum (I need to draw this skghfjfnfj)

But for our Toby!!!! Absolute mad lad. He’s actually a funny one bc I can see him liking to be a bit sweeter at times,, seeking out positions were he can see ur pretty face and watch the expressions and hear the sounds he pulls outta u best. But I cannot lie I’m a SUCKER for rlly mean rlly ruff and tuff Toby where he just wants to push u to ur limits and see how much he can make u endure. (This is why ur writing just DOES things to me) Like absolutely ravaging the shit outta u while keeping u in a headlock type beat LMAO ur drooling all over his bicep as he ruts against ur pretty ass and u get to listen to all those husky breaths and whimpers in ur ear abt how good u feel :((( #winning

Perfect counterpart to Jack having to be a bit more gentle and mindful of his strength no???? My princesses make me so crazy ✊😔 I’m unwell :’)

-🧃

oh I will GLADLY answer this

You hit the nail on the head with Jack. He’s well aware of the difference in both size and strength between the two of you. So, he’s careful - so not to accidentally hurt you - but he’s using his difference in strength to a FULL advantage

His favourite positions include…

You on top, regular or reverse cowgirl, he doesn’t really care - just so that he can grab hold of your waist and bounce you up and down on him like a doll. You don’t even have to do anything tbh, he’s doing all the work

Standing - is there anything better than having you moaning and clinging to him while he holds your body tightly and fucks up into you? For Jack, no tbh. He loves how you just go so pliant, grappling into him with trembling fingers as his claws dig into the meat of your ass

Mating press - c’mon, we saw this coming. Just absolutely pounding you into the bed dude LMAO he just loves bending your body to his will, Pushing your knees right up to your chest, damn near folding you in half as he presses down on your calves, keeping you riiiiight where he wants you

Doggy, but he’s a little mean with it - claws digging into your hips and pressing your stomach flush against the bed, forcing your body into a mean arch as he sinks into you over and over again. Sometimes he’ll snake a hand around your throat and pull you up towards him - back flush to his chest as you gasp for air

Toby on the other hand is a bit of a wild card tbh. He likes a little bit of everything - so long as he’s inside you he’s happy lmao

But if he had to choose…

Face off 100% - He just loves your pretty face, and wants to see it up close in personal when it scrunches up and contorts in pleasure. Loves making out with you while y’all are fucking too, so this is perfect. You on his lap, pressed so close he can feel every breath you take - moaning into his mouth with each roll of your hips

69 - LOLLL yeah I’m throwing this out here because dude loves to eat pussy, and what’s better than that? You choking on his cock while he does it. Big fan. Even after he cums he’ll still be up in it though, leaving you gasping and moaning right next to his dick as he fucks his tongue into you

Missionaryyy - He’s a lover boy, okay? Plus, he loves playing with and sucking on your tits while you tremble beneath him. Bonus points because it’s just so easy to bury his face in your neck and get his teeth sunk into your flesh

Backshots, but against a wall - Nasty fucker sksksjsk. There’s just something about the way you crumple. How your body slips further down the wall with each thrust, how your legs get shaky and your knees buckle, leaving him to practically hold your whole weight up as he fucks into you. Loves it. You look so pathetic.

Bonus round!

Toby’s a fan of fucking you in front of mirrors. Getting to see what’s going on from every angle. How your ass jiggles when you ride him, how your eyes roll back when he’s fucking you from behind. The type to get a mirror installed above your bed LMAO

Jack’s blind, so he’s big on touch and taste. Caressing and licking every inch of skin he can get at. Mapping out your entire body with his fingers and tongue.

Toby’s up for bondage. Like forreal, with ropes and gags, or just him tugging his belt off and using it to tie your wrists together. (Lovessss fucking you from behind like this. Using your bound wrists as leverage to pull you back onto him with each thrust)

Jack LOVES getting head. He knows he’s big, even your pussy can barely take him sometimes - so getting to hear you whimper and whine as you struggle to open your jaw wide enough for him? Exquisite.

Toby will fuck you quite literally anywhere if you ask him. Bathroom? Outside? On the kitchen table? Sure! Let him at it!

Jack’s a tease. Tbh the first 30 mins will probably just be him lazily dragging his claws across your skin. Feeling the goosebumps that raise on your body, hearing it as your pulse picks up.

[lush-escape]

The Vigilante's Guide to Grief

wc: 1.6k a/n: I listened to the kpop demon hunters soundtrack while writing this. Soda Pop has me in it's CLUTCHES. Bruce is a softie in this chapter bc me and my daddy issues say so. Also Christy? She's my irl therapist and we LOVE her here okay? prev: denial next: bargaining

Stage three: Anger

Jason sat on the couch, his worn journal in his hands. Despite only being written in a few times he continuously toyed with the edges of the paper - fraying them. He stares out the window, his mind a jumbled mess. He just got off the phone with Bruce and now he was in a worse mood than when he had woken up.

hi I miss you

it's the 17th. B just called. Wish you could've been here to hear it. Think he was guilt tripping me. Told me it's been almost a month since I've been to the manor. What does it even matter?

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

I can't. Feels like it gets harder every time I go over there. Yeah it's been a few months since

Between the call with Bruce and remembering your death, your funeral, the tombstone Bruce had placed for you in the family cemetery on the manor grounds Jason was at the end of his rope for the day. 

“Fuck!” 

It's loud, angry. Something that would have made you jump - he hates himself for it. His notebook flies across the room and smacks against the wall. His pen is broken in half. As he stands from the couch he pushes the coffee table out of the way with his foot, hitting the tv stand knocking over a picture frame.

The sound of broken glass makes Jason stop. It's like his heart is breaking all over again. It hurts. He feels his heart skip a painful beat, he feels his breath catch in his throat.

“Stop it!” You yell at him from the bedroom door.

It had started as such a stupid argument. So many little things during that day that resulted in heightened frustration between the two of you. 

“Don't tell me to stop. I didn't fucking do anything.” Jason snaps at you and you stare at him in disbelief for a split second before your expression turns hurt.

Jason knew he had some anger issues he needed to work on and he hated that he was taking it out on you even if it was subconscious. He hated himself for it.

“You're in here slamming stuff for no reason!” You shoot back when he tells you he hasn't done anything.

“Oh, boo-hoo.” Jason grumbles as he rolls his eyes. He can't stand the way he's treating you but he can't stop it.

“Jesus Christ, I can't have sunshine comin' outta my ass every second of the day for you. Fuck, you're so sensitive sometimes, you know that?”

You stop.

Jason stops.

Your disappointed scowl falters and your lips pull downward into a trembling frown. You've both said worse to each other before, more scathing biting insults. There was just something about this time that hurt.

Jason sees the way your eyes turn glassy with tears and the way you begin to frown. That's all it takes for all of his anger and frustration to completely melt away. He rubs his hand down his face and sighs.

“Baby, I'm sorry-”

You shake your head to stop him. You know that if you try to talk now you'll end up crying.

“No, no, please. Baby,” he takes a step forward and you take one back, making him stop in his tracks. He stares at you like you just burned him. With his mouth parted he watches as you turn and close the bedroom door behind you. It only takes him a second to register what happened.

He doesn't try to open the door knowing that if it was locked he might as well just rip his heart out of his chest and let you physically step on it in front of him. Instead he stands in front of the door with one tentative hand on the handle.

“Baby, please. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. You know I didn't mean it. I'm sorry for being such an asshole.” He begs for your forgiveness through the door.

You stay silent. You know you need space, he knows you need space but he also has a codependency issue that makes it hard for him to stay away from you.

Jason's not sure if minutes or hours pass by. All he knows is his back hurts and his legs are stiff from sitting on the hardwood floor with his back to the door. Waiting silently for you to come out. Silently listening to you sniffle and cry, dying a little bit more inside knowing he can't do anything to comfort you yet.

But eventually you do. Slowly and quietly you open the door. You sniffle quietly and if you weren't still upset with a headache from crying you would've laughed at how ridiculous Jason looks as he scrambles to his feet.

“Hey,” your voice is hoarse and raspy from your much needed crying session.

“God, baby, I'm so sorry.” Jason whispers. He's on you immediately. Big strong arms wrap you in a warm hug. Jason sighs audibly in relief. He buries his face into the top of your head, eyes closing as he breathes you in. Your nose presses into his chest and you let him hug you, too tired to reciprocate just yet - wanting to soak in his warmth.

He repeats a flurry of “I'm sorry” and “I didn't mean it” against you. You can feel the way his heart thuds in his chest and you can feel your bottom lip tremble again. You squeeze your eyes shut.

“You're perfect. You're not too sensitive. I mean- okay. You are. But it's not a bad thing. I love that about you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, I'm so sorry. Please I'll do anything-” He was panicking because even though you've fought and argued before - as any couple does - he's never made you cry.

“I let my anger get the better of me, I should have never-”

“It's okay…” You interrupt him and turn your head to the side to rest your cheek against him, your ear against his heart. 

“No, it's not.” He kisses the top of your head.

You're quiet again, “Okay.. it's not… but we both weren't being the best. I'm sorry, too.”

“Don't apologize. Ever. You could shoot me and I'd never want you to apologize.”

Jason remembers how downright scared you looked that night when he slammed the kitchen drawer shut. He hates himself all over again. He walks over to the notebook and picks it up.

“Sorry…” he mutters. He's not sure if he's saying it absentmindedly to the notebook, himself, or you. Either way he exhales roughly and sits back on the couch. He looks over his journal entry and slowly gets back to it.

It's been a few months since I've been there. It's harder now with your headstone there. I wasn't at my best when Bruce had it put in. I was angry. You would have hated it. You were never afraid tho just gave me that damn disappointed look. That hurt more than anything. I <u>hated</u> that. I deserved it though I was such an asshole when I was mad

“What the fuck is that?” Jason asks as he stares out the floor to ceiling window. It's such a small thing, your tombstone being added to the family plot. But Jason notices immediately as he walks by, the way the number grew overnight.

“Hm?” Bruce hums as he positions himself near Jason.

“I said, what the fuck is that?” Jason's voice is laced with venom at this point.

Bruce finally inhales and opens his mouth to answer.

“Without my permission?” Jason asks with quiet outrage.

“I didn't know I needed your permission.” Bruce says quietly but firmly.

“Not even a warning?”

“She was part of the family-”

“Oh don't give me that shit!” Jason turns to Bruce with a look that could kill. “You didn't even ask! She didn't want to be buried, didn't want a headstone! That's why I put her in a fucking urn.”

Bruce is silent. Perhaps he was in the wrong on this one, he thought.

“What's it say, huh? Who'd you put her by?” Jason's breathing was ragged. He knew he was overreacting, deep down he knew, but with something so big to memorialize you - it made it all the more real to Jason.

“Al-” Bruce begins to answer but Jason cuts him off. He's crying. It's the first time he's cried in days but there's a small part of him that feels safe, comfortable, doing it in front of Bruce.

“Don't. Fucking don't-” Jason's voice cracks as he pushes Bruce's shoulder. “You shouldn't have-” He points a finger at Bruce. “She didn't fucking want-” Jason's crying now. Fat tears stream down his face, his eyes tired and heavy and red.

“Come here,” is all Bruce says softly, offering an open shoulder to Jason.

He stands defiantly for a second before his resolve finally crumbles. With a shaking sob he pulls Bruce into a bruising hug and cries into his shoulder.

“I'm so sorry,” Bruce murmurs as he hugs his son.

“S’not fair,” Jason cries.

Christy says I'm doing better with managing my anger. I tried so hard for you. To be better. I'm so fucking sorry I didn't do it sooner. Or try harder. I think you would be proud of me. You always said you were but this time I know you would be

Jason wipes at a tear in the corner of his eye. He mumbles a curse under his breath and grabs his phone from his pocket. He can feel his emotions beginning to overwhelm him, he sees the warning signs now and knows how to cope. 

Maybe therapy isn't as stupid as he thought, he thinks.

He sends a text to Dick asking to meet him at the gym.

taglist: @thy-crimson-king @vellichor01 @theendofthematerialgworl @tinasdcstuff @4rachn3 @cecebookworm

[urinarythreatinfection]

Hi, I really like your work with Sanji! Can I request a fanfic where the reader is a person who didn't get love from his parents as a child, but only money? The reader is a woman, if anything! How the reader will try to show her love to Sanji is your choice! Thanks in advance!

This was a bit hard at first but I ended up getting into it eventually. It might've turned out a little more angsty than I thought but I felt like it worked really well. If you aren't at 1053 i'm really sorry I put it in there bc it worked really well too.

Insecure Love

Sanji x Fem Reader. Angst/comfort and some fluff. Major Spoilers for episode 1053. 2740 words.

Sanji adores you, you’re perfect to him. Beautiful, amazing, talented, everything. You are the best woman he could ever wish for. Sometimes he even lays awake at night thinking of the memories the two of you have made, goofy smile on his face he’s so enamored. There is one problem though, just a teensy one, you’re not at all affectionate. You don’t stop him from being affectionate to you, but you don’t exactly reciprocate or initiate. Instead, you give him gifts, which was nice at first but he started to feel a bit conflicted about it the more it happened. He would rather get love from you rather than a material good you’d bought somewhere. What’s worse is that the gifts have stopped, it’s almost always just money now.

“Here.” You say blankly to Sanji while he’s cooking, handing him cash. He spots you and his eyes trail to the berri in your hand, a small frown on his face. “Is it not enough?” He jolts and quickly shakes his head.

“No, that isn’t it. Thank you.” He forces a smile and takes it, pain in his chest. Your boyfriend tries so hard to make you feel loved, cooking for you, complimenting you, showing physical affection, but all you do is hand him cash like payment for a service; like his love was simply something nice you pay him for. He’s tried refusing it before but you had gotten upset, putting it away with a sad expression until he agreed to take it. Now you look at him as he pockets it, telling himself he’ll use it to buy ingredients for a dish you’ll like. After he puts it in his pocket he hugs you, kissing you for a bit before pulling away. “I’m going to finish cooking soon, my love, would you like to stay here?” His eyes are expectant, hoping you’ll stay, but you shake your head.

“I’ll leave you to it, you should focus.” With that, you leave him alone in the kitchen. He looks at the ingredients he was chopping, the money you gave him weighing down his heart. Is this really so one-sided? Has he just been bothering you this entire time? Maybe he’s just a toy you can play with, a music box that sings for you when you put money inside. Those thoughts crowd his head as he cooks until he accidentally lifts a hot lid with his bare hand, burning his skin; but before he can go to treat it... it heals on its own. The cook grits his teeth, clenching his fist. What a creepy ability. He puts his head in his hands and takes deep breaths, it’s okay, he loves you, you’re still together.

“Are you alright?” Robin asks him as he sets food down in front of the girls, including you, completely spaced out.

“Oh, sorry Robin-chan.” He snaps out of it and smiles at her. “I’m doing okay.” The cook leaves to serve the rest of the crew, steps noticeably heavier than normal. The women watch this, then look to you.

“Did you two argue or something? What’d he do?” Nami asks, ready to defend you, but you shake your head.

“I don’t know, I thought he was okay earlier, I handed him money and he accepted like normal.” You’re confused, and they both look at eachother.

“Like normal..?” Nami asks again.

“Yeah, I’ve been giving my allowance to him since we started dating. I know he sometimes struggles with food budget so I like helping out.” You explain and the two girls stare at you.

“(Y/n) what have you been doing so far in your relationship with Sanji?” Robin questions you and you start to talk, explaining that you’ve been getting him gifts since you both started dating; but you ran out of ideas on what to give him so you’ve started to give him money when he makes you happy.

“Wow…That’s horrible.” The navigator states, starting to pity Sanji.

“Like a sugar baby?” Your jaw drops slightly at Robin’s comparison and you quickly shake your head.

“A sugar baby!?” You’re shocked but start to think about it. “Wait, is that what he wants?”

“Obviously not!” The navigator snaps at your obliviousness. “He basically collapses the moment a woman does something for him but you’ve just been giving him money?”

“Wouldn’t you like that though?” You point out and she frowns.

“That’s different.” She considers money an okay gift for her, though even she would get annoyed if she had a lover that would only give her money and ignore anything else. “Plus you hardly show him affection, I thought it was just your guys’ thing so I didn’t say anything but you’re clearly bumming him out.”

“I haven’t refused anything from him though, and I don’t get mad at him for flirting with other women.” The navigator sighs, mentally facepalming, this isn’t working out. You’re too oblivious and Sanji’s too much of an idiot to tell anyone something’s wrong, much less a woman he loves. Robin comes up with something.

“Tomorrow you should come to our room at noon. We’ll assist you” You tilt your head, confused, but agree.

That night, Sanji heads to bed still sad and only getting worse. He can’t sleep, he’s been having trouble doing so since that happened. ‘She was there, she must’ve seen.’ An unnatural thing, becoming the same type of monster he always despised. You must’ve fallen out of love with him, that’s it. He can’t blame you, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t digging a hole into his chest. He curls up into a ball on his bed, grasping at the sheets next to him like you’ll be there.

_________________

The next morning goes as it usually does on the Sunny. Sanji wakes up early to make breakfast for everyone and when they wake up it’s time to eat. The difference now is that Sanji seems off, tired, he doesn’t yell at Luffy or Zoro and his happy comments towards Robin and Nami aren’t enthusiastic. When he sets down your plate in front of you you look up at him, trying to scan his face if he’s sick. He awakened late so it would make sense if his Germa genes weren’t as strong, maybe he’s gotten sick? You’re worried and so is everyone else, except Luffy who doesn’t notice until after eating. He almost says something but is promptly elbowed so he keeps shut. He means well but mentioning it right now will make things worse, plus, the girls have a plan.

Afternoon finally strikes and you walk into the shared girls room, they aren’t there. 'Maybe I came too early?’ You think to yourself, checking the time to make sure it’s noon. Suddenly you hear footsteps and the door opens, revealing Robin, Nami, and your boyfriend. They push him inside and he spots you, looking shocked; but before he could ask what’s going on the door closes. He tries the doorknob but it’s locked, switched so the lock is on the outside.

“Don’t even try unlocking the door or breaking it down. You aren’t allowed out until you two communicate.” Nami states and footsteps are heard fading away. You stare at Sanji’s back, his hands on the wooden door. Does he not want to be with you alone with you this much? Usually he’d be excited to have time to spend with you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him and the cook turns quickly, not prepared for this. He isn’t ready yet! He still needs to prepare his heart for the breakup and practice his apologies for you falling out of love. “Sanji..” You reach a hand out to him and he flinches, pressing his back against the wall like he’s afraid of you. He’s scared to be touched by you, scared that when you feel his skin you’ll retract from fear and disgust from the steel-like flesh. It isn’t right, these misunderstandings cause pain and you bite your bottom lip. What are you doing wrong, what did Nami mean by saying what you were doing was horrible? You step away from him and turn around, the both of you too insecure to speak. Fortunately, being trapped in this room will force you to.

‘She can’t even bear to look at me.’ Negativity clouds his judgment, irrational thoughts filling his mind. “I’m sorry.” An apology, it sounds guilty. This must be a sign.

‘He’s breaking up with me…’ There’s too much stress, him avoiding you, being told something is wrong, and now this breakup. The dam of stone formed by the years of trauma starts to crack, tears dripping from your eyes. Sanji doesn’t see it, but he can hear your shaky breaths. It causes his eyes to widen and his worry for you overpowers his instinct to pull away.

“Mon cœur!?” Your lover walks to you and scans your teary face, his hands cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t have to call me that,” His heart breaks, you’re breaking up with him so he would have to stop calling you that. Your next words confuse him, though. “I know you don’t want to.” …He doesn’t want to? Sanji blinks a few times, why would he ever not want to call his everything what she is?

“What are you talking about? I-”

“Stop forcing yourself!” You yell and he jolts. “It must’ve been hard. Your love for women made you stay with me for so long but I know you don’t love me. Being hesitant about my gifts, not talking to me as much, and you're starting to look tired too.” You step back and put your face in your hands. “You must be staying up late thinking about how you could break up with me.” He stands there, shocked. Him… breaking up with you? The perfect woman completely out of his league? Tears flow from your eyes faster and he tries to make sense of it all, his brain so focused on his own faults that the thought of you being insecure of yours is unable to cross his mind.

“Do you mean the berri you’ve been giving me?” He manages to put together and you nod. He continues to think. “You… it wasn’t payment to you?” He doesn’t know what else to call it so he settles with that word.

“Payment?” You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “Is that why you’ve been staying with m-”

“No, nonono of course not. I thought..” Sanji quickly interrupts you, stopping that thought. This is different from what he thought was going to happen, but it still hurts to speak his mind when it only reminds him of what’s wrong, well what he thinks is wrong. “I thought you were giving me those things as payment because you didn’t want to pay attention to me. So I wouldn’t bother you, that my love was just a transaction.” He says the last part more quietly and your heart drops. This is familiar, you’ve felt this exact way before when you were young. Going to your parents for love and only getting money in return to shut you up and get you away. You start to shake and cry harder.

“I-I, I didn’t know. I’m sorry..!” You’re just like them, but Sanji doesn’t care; hugging you.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” He’s already forgiving you and you haven’t even explained anything.

“No, it’s n-not okay.” You say while shaking your head, it’s nerve-wracking to talk about your past but you choose to. For him. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was different from my parents who would give me things instead of love, I always made sure t-to never tell you to go away or reject you but I ended up making you feel the exact same way I did!” You pull away and cover your face. “I’m horrible!”

‘The same way she did?’ He processes what you said, what’s happening. The struggle of trying so hard to be different from family only to end up like them is something he knows as well. His hand goes to his chest, pressing down and feeling almost completely dense skin instead of the regular squish of flesh; just like his brothers. “You don’t think I’m a monster…” You quickly shake your head. “Why didn’t you say so? Are you sure- I mean you never wanted to be with me!” Whenever he was cooking or if he went shopping you would just give him money and wave him off.

“I..” You think about that, then start to get embarrassed. “I didn’t want to bother you, what if I get overly clingy and get you mad?” Sanji hears this and it’s like weight has been dropped from his heart, but hearing you say this so insecurely still makes him slowly sink to the ground. “Sanji?”

“Bother me.. being clingy.” Gods, he would do anything to have you cling to him when he’s cooking or shopping. “You could never, ever, not in an eternity, ever bother me by being ‘clingy’”

“But don’t you get busy? You work so hard cooking and when you’re out shopping you’re talking with women, wouldn’t I make it awkward if I butted in?” He hangs his head in shame, the few times that you’ve agreed to go shopping he has flirted with other women; but he had assumed you didn’t care. In a way, he would do it on purpose hoping to get a reaction, even looking back at you. Anything to show a sign you loved him, that he wasn’t a toy, but all he was doing was making things worse. This lack of communication was only causing pain to you both. How could he ever make this up to you? He was already unworthy and now he had dared to cause such suffering to the love of his life. “Baby…” You crouch down and cup his face so he’s looking at you, his eyes are teary.

“I hurt you.”

“We ended up hurting each other.” You wipe his tears with your thumbs. “Do you still want to be with me? Even if I've been messing up?”

“I should be the one asking you that, treasure. My love.” Sanji hugs you, pulling you close to him so you’re on his lap. You can feel his hesitance, the fear that you’ll pull away because he’s different now, but you don’t. Instead you press closer to him, lifting your head up to look at him. You don’t really initiate kisses, so you’re nervous as you place your lips on his. He’s only shocked for a moment before he kisses back, resting his hand on the back of your neck. This is the longest series of kisses you’ve had, almost a minute before you have to pull away. “S-Sorry, I’ve gotten better at holding my breath lately.” A bit awkward it’s from something he dislikes, though.

“So I don’t have to worry if I kiss you alot?” You ask and his pupils basically turn to hearts.

“No, you don’t.” Before you two can kiss again there’s the sound of the door unlocking, making you quickly get off of Sanji’s lap as he stands up so Robin and Nami don’t see you in an awkward position. They almost think that nothing has happened but seeing the two of you clearly panicked changes their mind, making Robin smile.

“It went well, then?” Robin chuckles happily as the two of you flush. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

_______________

Sanji hums as he cooks, a good mood from making up with you so amazingly. His ears perk up when he hears you come inside, not needing to look to know it’s you. “I’m almost done, my love.” He states as he expertly flips a steak. You don’t say anything, which confuses him but before he can turn around he feels your arms wrap around him and your body press against his back. His girlfriend, who hasn’t shown real affection until yesterday, is clinging to him while he cooks. Is this a dream?

“Don’t turn around, I’m still a little shy.” You say quietly and it echoes in his mind. Shy… shy… Gods, you’re too cute. His face goes red and he falls to the side, blood seeping from his nose. “Sanji!?” You manage to stop him from slamming fully onto the ground, shaking him. He’s in heaven, this is heaven.

[uramakimochi]

TOGETHER

Wolfstar x daughter!Reader

WARNINGS: CHOOSE YOUR SAD SONG FOR THIS ONE!!! (the two songs above are just my personal suggestions, you can choose whatever you want^^) Canonverse where they're dead, angst angst angst, hurt + comfort, semi happy ending (cause they're still dead yk), and a small bestie!Harry comfort moment bc i love him. FEM!R and use of petnames and just one☝️use of Y/n.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

SOMETIMES I WAKE UP BY THE DOOR

THAT HEART YOU CAUGHT MUST BE WAITING FOR YOU

EVEN NOW, WHEN WE'RE ALREADY OVER

I CAN'T HELP MYSELF FROM LOOKING FOR YOU

You had seen them both die with your own eyes.

You believed that the day of their death would be when you were an adult living your life and they were an old couple who had only finished their adventure on earth.

But that was never going to happen.

You wouldn't have had the relief of seeing them die peacefully and hearing their last words as they laid on their deathbeds with smiles on their faces, ready to welcome death as their sister.

No.

You had seen them die one after the other.

Sirius' face smiling at you for the last time before his body passed through the veil was what haunted your memories every night.

You would never forget that scene. You would always carry the trauma of losing your father inside you.

I SET FIRE TO THE RAIN

WATCHED IT POUR AS I TOUCHED YOUR FACE

WELL, IT BURNED WHILE I CRIED

'CAUSE I HEARD IT SCREAMING OUT YOUR NAME

YOUR NAME

"I always said you were good with duels, my love" Sirius said with a proud smile and patting your head. "But now i need you to leave it to me"

"But i want to help you" you replied, worried.

Sirius placed a hand on your cheek and leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the forehead. "Hey, it's going to be alright baby. I want you to go with dad while i help Harry and then we'll go home together, okay?"

Reluctantly you nodded and Sirius walked away to join his godson. And while you were with Remus, Sirius was busy fighting Lucius alongside Harry.

When suddenly you heard it.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Bellatrix screamed the spell and a green flame hit Sirius' body, which stiffened like marble.

Both you and Harry turned to look at him and Sirius looked at you with empty eyes, devoid of all the joy and light that filled them. You saw him retreat further and further towards the veil until he gave you and his godson one last weak smile. And then, his body fell backwards into the arch, until he disappeared completely, dissolving into the void.

"D-Dad..."

You took one step, then another and another.

"Dad! Dad!" you screamed.

You ran towards the veil with tears in your eyes, intending to dive into it to chase him and bring him back. Harry fell to his knees and his wand slipped from his fingers.

You reached out for the veil and just when your fingertips were about to touch it, someone wrapped themselves around your body from behind, pulling you against their chest. It didn't take you long to realize that it was your other father, but you didn't care and immediately began squirming in protest.

"No! Let me go! Please!" your bottom lip was trembling, but tears had already started to fall from your eyes. "Dad! Please, let me go! Let me go with him! Please!"

But Remus shook his head, sniffling. His heart had shattered into a thousand pieces after seeing the man he loved die before his eyes so suddenly. But he had to stay strong. For you.

"I can't let you do that, sweetheart" he murmured next to your ear, his voice shaking. "I-I can't. I'm sorry..."

You shook your head, still squirming and crying. But as the seconds passed, the more you were realizing the truth. Sirius was dead. Your father would never come back to you again. You would never see him again.

And while Harry ran in the direction Bellatrix had run off, seeking revenge, you collapsed against your father's body, letting yourself fall to the ground in despair. You sobbed loudly even though the sounds were muffled by Remus' jacket, who closed his eyes tightly and kissed your head, a scarred hand in your hair holding you to his chest and salty tears rolling down his cheeks.

You would never go home together.

It had been hard for you and Remus to move on and both you and your father had been at risk of falling into depression over the loss of Sirius. But Harry and the other members of the Order had always remained close to you, giving you all their support and together you managed to overcome the biggest obstacle.

But as long as Voldemort was alive, it wasn't over yet.

And when you thought you had managed to find peace for your hearts, unfortunately you both knew that there was still an inevitable war to fight.

I SET FIRE TO THE RAIN

AND I THREW US INTO THE FLAMES

"I'm coming with you"

Remus shook his head.

"No darling, i want you to stay with your friends"

"Dad please-"

"It's too risky. At least you'll be safe with them-"

"I will only be safe with you!" you exclaimed, interrupting him.

Remus fell silent and you stepped towards him, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it gently.

"Dad" you murmured, your voice shaking. "I'm scared. I'm really scared to fight this war without you by my side"

Remus let out a breath, looking at you with a soft but sad look.

"Oh sweetheart" he cooed.

He pulled you against his body into a hug that you immediately returned, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist for comfort.

"We've already lost daddy. And i don't want to lose you too" you murmured against his chest. "Please let me come with you. So we can help each other"

Remus glanced at the sky, as if waiting for Sirius to give him an answer on what to do. But when he felt your body tremble against his, he just knew he couldn't leave you alone.

"Okay" he said then with a small sigh.

He placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled you away so he could look at your face, then wiped the tears from your cheeks with one hand.

"But always stay close to me, understood?"

You nodded, covering his hand with yours and rubbing your face against his palm as he smiled sweetly at you.

"It's going to be okay baby"

WHEN WE FELL, SOMETHIN' DIED

'CAUSE I KNEW THAT THAT WAS THE LAST TIME

THE LAST TIME

"Crucio!"

Before you could realize it, a huge rush of pain shot through your entire body and you fell to the ground screaming in pain. You felt your body burning as if it had been thrown straight into the fires of hell and Dolohov's sadistic laughter ringing in your ears.

"Don't touch my daughter again, you son of a bitch!" Remus yelled and with a flick of his wand he threw the Death Eater away from you.

Slowly the pain disappeared from your body and you breathed deeply as Remus' worried face suddenly appeared in front of yours.

"It’s been a long time since i heard you insult someone…” you murmured with a weak smile, trying to sit up. "Daddy would be proud of you"

Remus smiled back with teary eyes. And then, for the second time in your life you heard those cold words ring through the air.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of green hit your father in the chest, causing him to fall backwards onto his back on the ground. And after you saw his body hit the ground, a frightened cry left your lips.

Dolohov started laughing out loud again and you turned to look at him in fear.

"And now it's your turn little girl" he said with a smirk pointing his wand at you.

You closed your eyes, waiting for everything to end. But it didn't come. Instead, another voice behind you shouted another type of spell and Dolohov was thrown away, neutralized.

You reopened your eyes and saw with surprise that it was Professor Flitwick who saved you. He looked at you breathlessly, but said nothing, simply relieved to have saved one of his students.

However...

You jumped up and ran towards your father's body.

"Dad!"

You kneeled next to him and placed your hands on both of his cheeks, cold as ice, trying to wake him up and turn him to look at you, but it was no use. His eyes were wide open and fixed on the sky. And inside them there was nothing left. They were empty and lifeless, just like Sirius' before his body disappeared into the veil.

"No..."

Your face twisted into a grimace and your eyes filled with tears.

"No no no... Dad, please..."

You began to sob and lowered your head until your forehead rested on his still chest.

Flitwick looked at you with a broken expression and lowered his head sadly. Everyone knew that war took a great toll, but it was always hard to see someone who was dealing with the loss of a loved one. Especially when it came to their parents.

So you just stood there crying over your father's body.

It wasn't worth fighting anymore. Now you had lost everything.

OH

OH NO

LET IT BURN

After the war ended and Voldemort was defeated, you locked yourself away at home, the adorable little country cottage you had shared with Remus and Sirius for years. You no longer had the strength to face the outside world, not without your parents, not without the two people you loved most in the world and who you believed would remain close to you forever. Without them you had nothing left.

Harry came to see you as soon as he could, knowing that the last thing you needed was to be alone. He had promised your parents.

LET IT BURN

Harry knocked on the door, but didn't expect to hear an answer right away. So after a few seconds of waiting he gathered courage and entered, then he closed the door softly behind him.

He saw you sitting on the sofa in the living room, still and staring forward, with your head full of thoughts. A cup of tea that had now become cold sat on the table in front of you, waiting to be sipped.

Slowly Harry sat down next to you and looked at you sadly, but he said nothing. He couldn't say things like "It's okay" because nothing that happened was okay.

Finally, after a few seconds spent in silence you turned to look at him. Harry noticed the dark circles that had formed under your eyes and the thinness of your face. You were devastated.

"Every night…" you murmured. "Every night all i do is have nightmares about their deaths. I see nothing but their pale faces and their empty eyes staring into mine"

Harry reached out to your hand, squeezing it tightly to comfort you. You looked down at your hands and then up at his eyes.

"Harry…" you said, your voice shaking. "Y-You're not leaving too, are you?"

But Harry hugged you and you cried silently into his shoulder.

"Y-You are all i have left" you sniffled, sobbing. “Please, d-don't leave me too"

Harry shook his head and placed a small kiss on your temple, rubbing your back. "I will never leave you Y/n. I promise"

You nodded in relief. In dark times like those, you knew that at least you could still count on Harry. He was your best friend almost like a brother to you, especially thanks to the bonds that united your parents and his. You had grown up together and you couldn't bear the pain of losing him too.

"T-Thank you Harry" you said then pulled away from him and he handed you a tissue to wipe your nose. "I'm glad i still have you"

Harry gave you a small smile.

"I'm glad to have you too. I could never leave you alone after what happened to Remus and Sirius. I'm so sorry"

You smiled back, squeezing his hand. "I'm sorry too. Sirius was your godfather, we both suffered" you said and he nodded sadly.

You tilted your body to rest your head on his shoulder and he touched your head to his temple. You remained in that position for a couple of minutes, reflecting in the silence and comfort of each other.

"I have something for you" Harry then said and you lifted your head to look at him.

You saw him take something out of his pocket, a small object wrapped in a handkerchief which he then handed to you. You took it in your hand and looked at him confused, asking him for explanations.

"It's the Resurrection Stone" he said. "With it you can summon the people who are dead. Before meeting Voldemort in the forest i spoke with my parents and also with Sirius and Remus"

Your eyes opened slightly. You didn't know anything about it.

"I promised them to always be close to you and that's what i intend to do" Harry continued. "And i know that you and them didn't have the chance to say a final goodbye, but with this you can tell each other everything that you couldn't say before their deaths"

You thought you had ran out of all the tears you had in your body, but you felt your eyes becoming shiny again but you managed to keep yourself from crying again.

Harry gave you an encouraging smile and, looking down at the object in your hands, he helped you remove the handkerchief that wrapped it, thus revealing that small stone with immense power.

You stared at it for a few seconds, trying to realize Harry's words. Then he put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately and then stood up from the couch.

"I'll give you some time alone" he said simply and then he left the living room.

You watched him go then you looked at the stone again for a few more very long seconds, until you took it with one hand, turning it between your fingers. Your parents had told you the story of the Deathly Hallows, but you never believed you would touch one with your own hands. Could that little stone really make you see your dead parents again?

You closed your eyes and gripped the stone in your fist. Begging with all your heart that what Harry had told you was true and not some stupid false hope. Seeing them again even just for once was everything you wanted most in the world.

And then, suddenly...

"Sweetheart"

Your eyes snapped open with a gasp and you jumped up on instinct, almost slamming your knee into the coffee table. Until you saw them.

They were right there standing in front of you. And their appearance was the same as the last time you had seen them.

"Dad…" you whispered, setting your eyes on Remus, who gave you a sweet smile.

Then your gaze fell on Sirius next to him and the first tears you had tried to hold back in front of Harry came out of your eyes when you saw him again after all that time.

"D-Daddy..."

Sirius gave you the same smile as Remus and raised a hand towards you.

"Hi baby"

You sobbed and quickly walked towards them, lifting one arm so you could take his hand and squeeze it as tight as you could. But when your fingertips only touched cold air and passed through his palm like an arrow, your heart sank.

You slowly lowered your arm, clenching the fist that wasn't holding the stone and your parents looked at you sadly.

"A-Are you really here?" you murmured, your heart pounding.

The fear that it was just a dream, no actually another nightmare and that they would've disappeared at any moment was eating you up from the inside.

Remus took a step towards you and raised a hand so he could rest it on your cheek. He wanted with all his heart to try to clean the tears from your face, but all you felt was just a cold sensation on your skin.

"We're here darling" he replied with a sad smile. "Don't be afraid, we won't leave"

You looked at him with red eyes and sniffled, wanting nothing more than to hug them and feel their sweet caresses on your head.

"I missed you" you sobbed. "I missed you s-so much"

"We missed you too baby, more than anything in the world" Sirius said with tears in his eyes. "You have no idea how sorry we are for leaving you alone"

"You've suffered so much, my love" Remus continued, a couple of tears falling from his eyes as well. "Please, forgive us"

You shook your head weakly, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your sweater.

"I-It's not your fault" you tried to say. "It's just that... T-That..."

Your legs suddenly gave out and you found yourself kneeling on the ground at their feet.

"I can't do this without you" you whimpered, trying to cover your face with one hand. "I can't, i-i can't..."

Remus and Sirius quickly crouched down in front of you and exchanged broken looks. They would have given anything to be able to hug and stroke you even just one last time, wanting to comfort you in every possible way. But cruel fate had broken your family and there was no turning back.

"P-Please…" you continued to sob. "Please come back to me... I b-beg you..."

"Honey" coed Remus in a strangled voice. "We would love to be back with you, but you know this is no longer possible. We're sorry. We're so sorry"

Sirius lowered his head, continuing to listen to you cry with his heart breaking at every sob and Remus trying to whisper sweet words of comfort to you.

After minutes that seemed endless, you finally calmed down. The last tears came out of your eyes and the last sobs echoed in the living room.

"It's been a while since i've seen you" Sirius said, placing both of his palms on your cheeks and looking at you with a tender smile. "Look how you have grown. You are so beautiful my sweet daughter, just like your old man. Which is me by the way, but Remus is not that bad either"

Remus playfully rolled his eyes and you smiled slightly embarrassed, whispering a soft "Thank you", not feeling how Sirius' thumbs were stroking the skin above your cheekbones.

"Can i ask you something?" you murmured, looking from one to the other.

"Anything, darling" Remus replied without hesitation.

"Does it hurt to die? Did you suffer?"

Sirius gave you a smile, removing his hands from your face, while Remus resisted the urge to brush your hair behind your ear, like he used to do.

"It's easier than falling asleep. You feel nothing, i can assure you"

You nodded, relieved that they were okay. Then you looked down at the stone still clutched in your hand.

"You know, there are a lot of things i wish i could have told you before you died" you said with a faint smile, looking back at them. "For example, that i am so happy to have had you two as parents and that i have loved every single moment that i lived with you. I loved flying with daddy for the first time on his broom. I loved when dad read me bedtime stories before going to sleep. I loved baking Christmas cookies with you and i loved watching cartoons on the tv that dad bought from the muggles. I loved the nights we spent cuddling in your big bed when i was afraid of the dark and those spent healing dad's wounds after the full moon. I loved the day you welcomed me and we became a family. I love you so much"

Your parents looked at you with tender smiles and shining eyes.

"We love you too sweetheart. So much" Sirius said.

"We will always love you to infinity" Remus continued. "And we will always be proud to have you as our daughter"

You saw that their hands were intertwined and it warmed your heart. You were happy that even in the afterlife they were still together. You knew that the love that united them would never separate them.

"It's my fault you guys died" you murmured, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry"

Sirius shook his head with a smile.

"Darling, i would sacrifice my life countless times to save your life and Harry's. So don't you dare say it's your fault anymore, am i clear?"

"And i couldn't let that crazy Dolohov hurt you" Remus said then.

"Oh yeah, i heard the way you insulted the bastard. I'm proud of you Moony" he said, making you chuckle lightly, knowing that what you had told Remus before he died was true.

"What we want you to know is that you shouldn't blame yourself for something WE decided to do" Remus said solemnly, looking into your eyes. "Because we would do it again and again if it meant saving your life. This is what a father does for his daughter, okay baby?"

You felt your free hand get colder and when you looked down you saw Sirius's clear one covering yours. You looked at him and he gave you a smile, nodding in agreement with everything Remus had said. And you nodded too, muttering an "Okay" back. At least now the guilt wasn't gripping you anymore.

"Sweetheart" Remus gave you a small sad smile. "I know this will be very difficult for you, but you have to be strong and move forward. You can't stay locked in the house forever"

Your smile fell from your lips and you shook your head weakly. "And how can i do that? Without you i remain alone..."

"Hey hey, don’t say that" Sirius said, leaning towards you. "Darling, who said you're alone? You still have Harry, Hermione, Ron and all your other friends"

"And you were never completely alone" Remus continued, smiling at you. "Daddy and i always stayed with you and watched you fight, you know. You just couldn't see us"

You looked at them with big shining eyes.

"Really?"

The two nodded and Sirius raised a hand to point at your chest, where your heart was.

"We are always here, my love. And we promise that we will never leave you. Understood?"

"You don't have to be afraid. We will stay by your side, no matter what happens" said finally Remus.

You nodded, smiling and sniffling and then you raised your pinkie towards them.

"We'll stay together?"

And they wrapped their pinkies around yours without hesitation.

"Always"

From the kitchen, Harry heard the promise you had exchanged and smiled, glad that he had managed to put your heart at peace and free your mind from the darkness and nightmares that haunted you.

Knowing you, he knew you would probably want to give him the stone back, but Harry knew you needed it more than him. And he and your parents would've helped you move forward.

i'm kinda proud of this one so please let me know what you think^^

[teddybeartoji]

Thoughts on Massage session with bff/roommate/bf gojo [idk who to assign this thought to, I just love the 3😵‍💫]

omfgggggggggggg massage sessions with roomie!gojo........... like really random ones. you're in the kitchen, making tea or smth when he comes from the gym, groaning and moaning about how his body hurts from the last session. you hear him plop down onto the couch and you just can't NOT tease him yk. aw, poor baby. etcetc and he just groans back at you from inside the pillow.

and then you join him in the living room and he's just........... laying on his stomach on the couch and it's so hard to ignore how good his back looks....... he's been hitting the gym so much and it's clearly paying off bc he's getting bigger and bigger every day. and you kind of... do want to reward him for that.

so, you place your mug onto the coffee table and then simply sit on his lower back. he's so startled that he almost elbows you by accident but you just laugh and tell him to relax. the tips of his ears go a little red, though. he's just surprised, okay? he's not flustered at all.

you situate yourself a bit further back, so you're sitting on his ass now and he hides his face into his arms (this pose makes his biceps look fucking insane btw). you ask him where does it hurt as you're letting your hands just glide all over his back, feeling the muscles contract under your soft touch. he just grumbles out a quiet everywhere. he's kinda cute sometimes, huh.

you start making your way up from his lower back, kneading the tight muscles, really working on the places that make him tense up and hiss under his breath.

harder. a smile creeps onto your lips and you revel in the chance of teasing him again; you ask him to repeat that and it takes a whole ten seconds for him to do it but alas - a low harder, please emits from the man below you. leaning down closer to him, you blow a little air into his ear and he stirs, giving you a peek at the pout on his lips. i hate you.

you can't hold back the burst of laughter that's bubbling up because of his childish actions. i'm literally giving you a free massage and this is how you thank me? you give his hair a ruffle before continuing on his back, now with much more pressure.

you don't stop until you feel all of the knots disappearing. satoru is now completely limp under you, only a few faint groans leaving his lips every once in a while. you rub his shoulders, digging your thumbs into his delts to make sure that all of his upper body has been taken care of. you give his neck a little attention too, drawing slow gentle circles into the back of it.

as the last thing of the treatment, you inch your fingers into his hair and you're sure you just heard him purr but to your own surprise - you don't comment on it. his hair is so soft (it always is) and you're now kind of doing this for your own pleasure. you twirl a strand between your fingers and then rake all of your fingers through it like a comb. he hums and you feel it travel through his body below you.

you give his head exactly two pats before sitting back down onto his ass while dragging your fingers one final time along his back. you draw a happy face into the big canvas and then climb off of him, throwing yourself down onto the armchair next to the couch. your tea is now cold but you're not mad. how could you be when you spot his shut eyes from between his now messy hair and his bicep; his whole body is rising and falling so slowly, faint breaths leaving his lips. ok, he looks very cute like this.

+ thank u nonnie for sending me this!!!!!!!! i love massages and i especially love them when it's just a Couple Of Friends who are doing it yk hihhihihihi

[luigilore]

omg regarding the bush! i get the worst rashes from shaving and i’ve really tried everything and it doesn’t matter what i do it still appears eventually and it’s so annoying and painful! i can imagine it honestly, your relationship is a little new so you’re still at that stage where you’d be a little shy about letting your hair grow out, but maybe after moving in together and having sex most days, having to shave every day would really start taking a toll on your body. maybe you cut yourself shaving once, and then you’re undressing in front of him and he sees it and is alarmed immediately (it would probably look worse because of the irritation to the skin around it). omg he’d be so concerned, asking what happened to you, and you would, to his horror, act like it’s nothing… “is that— is that because of shaving?” and you’d kind of shrug “yeah, i think so. i’m just shaving really often, so maybe the skin is more tender or something, i don’t know. but it’ll heal in a day or two.” and he’d just stare at you with genuine horror all over his face. he’d swallow, then look at the cut again and then your face, blushing when asking, “do you feel the need to shave because of me? because i like you either way, i promise.” and you wouldn’t really know what to say, “no, yes? kinda? i don’t know.” he wouldn’t know how to breach the subject, probably, because he wouldn’t want to tell you what to do or not do with your body, but he’d sum it up pretty well by saying, solemn as fuck too probably, “i don’t like you hurting yourself.” and that’d be that. it would take a while for you to feel comfortable with ANY hair there at all, but he’d love it SO much (more than even he expected) and let you know. he’d be holding your thighs open and just staring, eyes dark “oh, sweetheart, you’re fucking beautiful.” 😖

OMG anon this is soooo good ty bc i ate this up omfg 😣😣 im like you it is SO annoying <//3

okay ugh one day you’re making out and pause to shimmy your shorts and underwear down and he immediately is like 😦 and ur so casual like “oh, yeah it’s just from shaving, it should heal quick, sorry.” and his mouth is still agape, jaw dropped and he’s like “sorry?”

ur right he would be so upset, eyebrows knitted as he purses his lips quiet for a few moments, before looking up at you seriously and asking you if it’s bc of him 😭😭 and you’re like “omg no!!” and then r like “maybe?” lol yeah he would feel awkward he doesn't want to tell you what to do but i feel like he would be so protective of u... like even against yourself sometimes... if that makes sense. so but yes solemn af: “i don’t like you hurting yourself.” and it’s your turn to be a bit stunned idk like sorry he’s now getting ur coconut oil or whatever from the bathroom for this to apply carefully

and when ur shy the first few times you stop/slow down on shaving lu would be so sweet and reassuring, "it’s just me, it’s just us, it’s the same as always." 💕💕 he’d worship you omggg bc i feel like he couldn't stand to see you self conscious esp not abt something so natural and beautiful, hands on your thighs rubbing subconsciously and soothingly up and down and massaging gently.

[honeypiehotchner]

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

It does indeed feel like I'm edging y'all and for that I apologize 🤣🤭 These two will have their moment very soon!

Warnings: so sorry to deceive u abt the smut bc it's so short it's just f!masturbating, even still 18+ mdni pls!!, Rossi being a little shit, angst (what's new), cutie moment on the jet, welp! the unsub is back!

Hotch doesn’t know what noise he heard, but he heard something — he swears he did, absolutely nothing would’ve made him stop kissing you, unless it was dire. He heard a crash outside, or something, he’s not sure, but it was enough. It was enough to make him panic, to think the unsub was outside, here to grab you—

Except, it was nothing, because now he’s standing on the patio watching two raccoons scurry away, frightened by the security light they triggered and the frantic six-foot human who nearly shattered the glass doors wrenching them open.

Aaron’s phone rings in his pocket, making him flinch, but when he glances at it, he sees it’s only Rossi.

“Yeah,” Hotch answers.

“I got a security alert on my phone, should’ve warned you about the raccoons, sometimes I give them my leftovers,” Dave almost sounds amused. “And why did you call earlier? You two kill each other yet?”

Hotch thinks back to just a few minutes ago, both of you attacking one another, for sure, just not in the way Rossi thinks. “Do you seriously give the raccoons leftovers?”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay. Well.” Hotch rubs his forehead. “I’ll let you go—”

“What’s the matter with you?” Dave presses, no doubt smirking. “You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“Nothing,” Aaron replies.

“Oh, I see—”

“Goodnight, Dave.”

Aaron just barely hears Rossi laugh through a “goodnight” before he hangs up the call.

He takes one more second to right himself before he heads back inside, shutting the patio doors and triple-checking that they’re locked securely.

When he finds you again in the living room, he knows. The moment is gone. The air shifted. You’re standing. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or maybe not.

“Did you see anything?” you ask, but you barely sound like yourself. Your words are detached.

“No, it was just uh,” he pauses, shaking his head, “raccoons. It was nothing. Sorry to spook you.”

You nod, a jerking movement like you’re barely holding it together. Aaron thinks for one moment that you’re having another panic attack, but this looks so different. It’s not that. He doesn’t know what this is.

“Listen,” you start, and then you pause, wringing your hands. “Let’s…not talk about what just happened.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

You shake your head. “We can blame it on the wine. The fancy dinner. The…being stuck in this house together for the weekend.” You take a deep breath. “Let’s just…blame it on that and forget it happened. Okay?”

Not okay. Very much not okay, not for him. He finally spent time with you that didn’t involve clenching his jaw so hard it popped, shared malicious glares, and even venomous words. He finally worked up the courage to kiss you. He finally got to have you, and now you want to forget it even happened?

“Aaron?” you ask, looking up at him expectantly, and you don’t look like you want to forget this. You look…hurt.

But he can’t figure out why. And you don’t seem to be in the mood to tell him right now.

But he can’t just agree to forget this.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” he asks quietly, tone bordering on pleading. If you try to protest, he might get down on his knees and beg for you. “Please.”

Aaron sees you start to bite the inside of your cheeks. It’s something you’ve always done to stop yourself from getting too emotional. He wishes you weren’t doing it right now. He wishes you would show him, wishes you would tell him what’s the matter. What changed.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he says automatically.

“Goodnight,” you murmur, barely looking at him before you head for the stairs. 

Aaron is frozen in place while he waits for your footsteps to reach your room. He shuts his eyes with a sigh when he hears your door shut as well.

+++

Raccoons. That’s the excuse he goes with? Raccoons?

It’s not that you’re doubting him — you absolutely are — but even he has to admit that that sounds fake. Raccoons, seriously?

Hearing that only confirmed for you that the two of you need to forget whatever happened on the couch. Or, at least, you were convinced, until you saw the look on his face when he asked if the two of you could talk about it tomorrow instead. He looked…well, he looked like you had just twisted a knife in his heart. And that wasn’t what you thought you were doing.

It doesn’t matter right now. Right now, you need to calm yourself down, get ready to sleep, and actually relax enough to do so. You need to sleep at least eight hours tonight. These sleepless nights of barely four hours rest are not sustainable, not like this.

It’s really just another excuse to get in bed as early as possible in hopes of being unconscious as soon as possible. Because you can’t think about what just happened, or how it felt to finally have his hands touch your skin beneath your shirt. How it felt to touch him, to get so close, to feel him underneath you and almost do something about it. How it felt to hear how much he liked it, how much he liked you.

It makes your head spin.

You don’t know if it’s better or worse that things didn’t escalate further. On the one hand, it feels good that you didn’t go too far. There’s less to regret.

On the other hand, it feels like you only got a mere taste, a tease, and now you’re hungry for more — hungrier than you were before.

You wander around the room like you’ve forgotten where you are or who you are until you eventually settle down and put your pajamas on. You get under the covers. You shut your eyes.

And your mind puts you right back where you were barely an hour ago. Hips rocking over his, his fingers digging into your skin, his choked moans as you nip at his neck, your own whines as he cups your breasts, pinching your nipples just barely, teasing you, keeping you warm, keeping you wanting for more.

You let your imagination take the reins. It’s hard not to fantasize after that. You imagine what might’ve happened had he not gotten up so quickly. Would your hand have finally snaked its way into his boxers, gripping him gently, tugging enticingly? Would he have been able to hold back? Would he have flipped you both, pinned you beneath him—

You don’t realize that your hand has found its way into your panties until you narrowly manage to cover your mouth on a moan. Your eyes fly open, listening for any movement, any sign that Aaron might’ve heard you. Disappointed, you find silence.

But your imagination returns. Images of Aaron with his face between your legs has your hand moving faster, fingers slipping inside, curling, your back arching just at the idea of him pulling you into his mouth, as if he could crawl inside you and still not be close enough.

You add a third finger, the fantasy shifting to Aaron moving inside of you, hitting you in all the right places, the places you can’t reach, not even with your vibrator.

You bite down on the heel of your palm to stifle the sound when you fall over the edge, the orgasm shocking every cell in your body.

Heaving, you try to quietly regain your composure. You’re satisfied, slightly, the fantasy still swimming beneath the surface. It’s not even close to the satisfaction you’d feel if he was here, finishing what he started.

But it’s all you have, so you roll over, hoping the post-orgasm bliss will at least help you fall asleep faster.

+++

You wake in a haze, your phone ringing loudly from the nightstand. The room is dark, the sun having long gone to sleep, and you have two seconds of blissful confusion before the realization sets in.

That ringtone. Emergency recall.

You scramble to answer the call, but it cuts off, a new one coming through, JJ’s picture lighting up your screen. “Hello?”

“Richard Monroe is dead,” JJ blurts. “They just identified his body an hour ago. We have to get to Alabama.”

You stand to your feet. “Alabama? What do you mean? He was in Alabama?”

“Yes,” JJ rushes out. “Can you notify Hotch? I’ll call the others. Plan is to meet on the airstrip in an hour. They’re fueling up now.”

“We’ll be there in thirty,” you promise, ending the call as your feet are already carrying you across the room.

You bang on his door, giving him five seconds before you plan to open the door. He’s opening it for you in three.

He has his phone already pressed to his ear. “Richard Monroe.”

“Dead in Alabama,” you hiss. “If it’s in fucking Huntsville, Aaron, I—”

“I’ll call you back,” he says to whoever is on the phone. “Strauss wants us there immediately.”

Your eyes go wide. “You just hung up on Strauss?”

“I said I’d call her back,” he defends. “Did JJ call you?”

You nod. “She’s calling the others. We’re leaving in an hour.”

Hotch hesitates when you say we and you already know where this is going, so you stop it while you can.

“I know what you’re going to suggest, and no,” you say firmly. “I’m going. Don’t even try to make me stay back with Garcia.”

“This could be a trap—”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist. “Because I’ll be with you.”

That looks like it knocks the wind out of him, and you know exactly why. But you can’t talk about that right now. 

He knows it, too. He holds your gaze for just a moment too long. Every second that ticks by is a second you two don’t have to lose.

“We need to go,” you murmur, trying to break the trance. “Can you be ready in five?”

He nods. You nod.

Without a word, you turn and retreat back to your room. You shut your door and move faster than you even think humanly possible, throwing your pajamas off and throwing on a work outfit. You cram a few extras into your go-bag, not bothering with any makeup or anything before walking out with your bag and shoes in hand.

Hotch meets you downstairs, ready to go. You slip your feet into your shoes and follow him out to the car. 

“JJ said we’re meeting at the airstrip,” you say, scrolling through the groupchat. Everyone is awake and on their way. Garcia is already headed to the BAU office to get set up.

Hotch doesn’t acknowledge your statement. Instead, he says something else that makes your stomach turn. “Strauss said his body was found near Huntsville.”

You curse loudly, rubbing your forehead. “What the hell are we walking into?”

“I don’t know,” Hotch says automatically.

You keep massaging your forehead, trying to soothe the brewing headache. A hand squeezes your free one out of nowhere.

You lift your head to look at Hotch, almost in shock, but when he goes to pull away, you turn your wrist and lace your fingers together. A silent question that he hears. He squeezes your hand in response, lifting your hands to kiss your knuckles.

He doesn’t let go for the rest of the drive.

+++

The air on the jet is tenser than you’ve ever felt. Garcia is already at the office, video calling into Hotch’s laptop that now sits on the table between you two. Morgan is just across the aisle, leaned against the couch and he can’t sit still. Reid is next to Hotch and Emily is next to you.

Rossi eyes you warily from the little kitchenette where he stirs a cup of coffee. 

“Okay, crime scene photos have been uploaded to your devices,” JJ says, handing a file of hard copies to Reid and placing an extra copy down on the table. “It’s all we have at the moment, they’re not touching anything until we get there, just snapping pictures and keeping it blocked off.”

You grab a picture just so you can glare at something. But when you get a good look at it, you drop it like it burned you.

“What is it?” Hotch says immediately.

“Is his—” You pause, your throat constricting. “Is his body outside an elementary school?”

The sound of Garcia’s frantic typing stops abruptly. “How did you know that?”

All the police have said is that Richard Monroe’s body was found dumped at the edge of the woods near Huntsville. But you know those woods, that edge in particular. Because you used to walk through them when you were younger if you were walking home with a friend. There were times — rare times — when your dad picked you up from school that the two of you would take the shortcut through those exact woods.

“Because,” your voice shakes, “I used to walk through those woods. They’re outside the elementary school I went to.” As if you need to prove your point and your credibility, you continue, “There’s a junior high next to it. Or there used to be. It’s probably called something different now—”

“You’re right,” Garcia says, rattling off the names of the two schools you went to.

The jet is quiet for just a moment.

“This isn’t a coincidence,” Rossi says.

Your eyes lift and you meet his gaze with a solemn nod. You’re both thinking the same thing. “My dad dumped bodies outside schools,” you explain. “When he wasn’t dumping them in abandoned lots or dirt roads, it was outside elementary schools. This is as direct as a message gets.”

Hotch shifts anxiously in his seat across from you. You know he’s battling with sending your ass back to Quantico, but you also know he’s learned by now that you will only be angry with him if he does that.

“We’ll go to the crime scene when we arrive,” Hotch says finally, though he won’t look at you. “Dave, take Reid and JJ and get set up at the precinct. Morgan, Prentiss, and I will go to where his body was dumped.”

“Where am I going?” you ask, ready to let the annoyance seep into your words.

But you barely feel any annoyance at all. Because of Hotch’s reply.

“That’s your decision,” he says softly. “It’s up to you. We’ve always known this case was closely connected to you, but it’s getting closer. You can go with Dave to the precinct, come with me to the crime scene, or I can have the pilot take you back to Quantico. I can arrange for agents to escort you and you can work at the BAU office with Garcia. But it’s up to you.”

You blink. He’s not saying any of this in a frustrated way. No, it’s genuine. It’s caring.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “If it’s alright, I’d like to go to the crime scene.”

Hotch nods, his eyes unreadable. “That’s fine.” After another beat of silence, he glances at his watch and sighs. “We’ve got roughly forty-five minutes left in the air. If anyone needs sleep, I recommend you do so now. I’m not sure when we’ll check into a hotel.”

Or if we’ll sleep at all, you add in your head to yourself. You don’t see yourself getting a single second of sleep until you catch this unsub.

Garcia hangs up and everyone disperses, curling into seats and couches in desperate attempts to catch just a little rest.

You and Hotch don’t move from your spots.

Well, you don���t move. He does. It starts with him nudging your leg underneath the table. You don’t look at him. He whispers your name. You don’t even blink.

You hear him sigh before he slides out of his seat and switches sides, taking the now empty seat beside you. It makes you smile, just a little.

And then Aaron, the man that he is, is sliding down in his seat, leaning his body toward yours. You have no idea what he’s doing until you move to turn your head, and he guides you down to his shoulder.

“Sleep,” he whispers. “You need to get some rest.”

You smile, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “You do too, you know,” you murmur.

“I know,” he says, then leans his cheek onto your head. “I will.”

You let your eyes slip closed then, but not before wrapping yourself around his arm, pulling him into you, just needing to hold onto something. Anything.

Aaron’s hand slips between your knees, the touch not at all sexual, yet somehow more intimate. The level of comfort he’s providing, how easily he fits into your space, how right his body feels when it fits to yours, not even in a sexual manner. This is just the two of you existing, trying to squeeze in some sleep before everything else crashes down around you, and it’s perfect. It’s as easy as breathing.