#and then I realized I watch one piece and they could say the exact same line

[ssa-danhotchner]

The thread that binds us | Aaron Hotchner x reader

summary: after years of friendship, missed chances, and unspoken feelings, Aaron Hotchner and the reader drift apart. Life takes them in different directions—promises left unfulfilled, words left unsaid.

cw: fem reader, non BAU reader, mention of Haley's death, emotional angst, missed chances, grief

wc: 9.6k

note: the years are not exact

english isn't my first language so please be kind! i recently watched Love, Rosie so I have to write this

You met Aaron Hotchner in high school—though “met” wasn’t quite the right word. It was more like fate threw you together in the most chaotic way possible.

The first day of junior year, you showed up late to homeroom, and the only seat left was next to him. He had his arms crossed, his black hoodie pulled over his head, and a bored expression on his face. He looked like the kind of guy who never broke rules and always finished his homework on time.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath as you slid into the chair.

He glanced sideways at you, arching an eyebrow. “Something wrong with sitting here?”

“Not yet,” you said with a smirk, pulling out your notebook.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t until later that day in chemistry class that you found out how insufferable—and surprisingly fun—Aaron Hotchner could be.

“Do you even know how to hold a pipette?” you asked as you watched him fumble with the equipment.

“Do you?” he shot back, his dark eyes narrowing playfully.

“Yes, actually. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m brilliant.”

“Right,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re so brilliant you couldn’t even find your way to homeroom on time.”

“Touché,” you muttered, grabbing the pipette from him. “Move over. Let me save you from yourself.”

He grinned then, wide and genuine, and it was the first time you realized Aaron Hotchner wasn’t as stoic as he seemed. In fact, he could be downright charming when he let his guard down.

𐙚

1984

You became friends after that, though it wasn’t immediate. Aaron wasn’t the type to let people in easily, but once he did, he was loyal to a fault.

By senior year, you were inseparable. People joked that you were attached at the hip, though neither of you ever corrected them. You weren’t dating—everyone assumed you were, but it wasn’t like that. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“What are you doing after graduation?” Aaron asked one day as you sat in your usual spot on the bleachers, watching the soccer team practice.

“I don’t know,” you said, kicking at a loose piece of gravel. “College, I guess. You?”

“Probably the same,” he said, leaning back on his elbows. “My dad wants me to go to law school eventually.”

“Of course he does. You’ve got ‘future lawyer’ written all over you.”

“And what do you have written all over you?” he asked, glancing at you with a smirk.

“Trouble,” you said, grinning.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said, laughing softly.

𐙚

Aaron had been thinking about asking you to prom for weeks.

It wasn’t that he assumed you’d say yes, but the idea of going with anyone else just didn’t make sense. You were his best friend. His person. The one who understood him better than anyone.

But there was this nagging doubt in the back of his mind—this quiet voice that whispered, Why would she want to go with you?

You were effortlessly charming, the kind of person who could light up a room just by walking into it. Meanwhile, Aaron was… well, Aaron. Reserved. Cautious. Always too serious for his own good.

So he hesitated.

And then, one afternoon, he found himself in the hallway with Haley Brooks—the golden girl of your high school, the one everyone adored. She was kind, beautiful, and, most importantly, she was interested in him.

He should’ve walked away. He should’ve told her he already had someone in mind.

But when she smiled at him and casually mentioned how she still didn’t have a date for prom, something inside him wavered.

He thought about how easy it would be.

How no one would question why Aaron Hotchner, the quiet, studious overachiever, was taking Haley Brooks to prom.

How maybe, just maybe, if he asked you and you said no, it wouldn’t hurt as much if he had never asked at all.

So instead of finding you after school like he had planned, he looked at Haley and said, “Do you want to go with me?”

𐙚

You smiled when Aaron and Haley arrived at prom together.

At least, you hoped it looked like a smile.

You had spent weeks waiting for him to ask you, certain that he would. Certain that, after all these years, it just made sense.

But he never did.

And when you saw him standing beside Haley in his perfectly pressed suit, his hand resting carefully at her waist, you understood why.

So you smiled. You laughed. You pretended it didn’t sting.

But when a slow song came on, and he met your eyes across the dance floor, something inside you twisted painfully.

Because for a brief moment, you saw it—hesitation. Regret.

And then, before either of you could move, Haley took his hand, pulling him toward the dance floor.

So you turned away, forcing yourself to do the same.

Later that night, when the party had begun to slow and most of the crowd had thinned, you felt a familiar presence behind you.

You turned, and there he was.

Aaron.

He looked unsure, like he was still trying to convince himself to be here.

“Dance with me?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You hesitated. “What about Haley?”

“She won’t mind,” he said quickly. “It’s just one dance.”

Just one dance.

So you let him take your hand, let him pull you onto the dance floor as another slow song started. His hands found your waist, your arms looped around his shoulders, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed.

Like it was still just the two of you, the way it had always been.

You swayed in silence, and then—so softly it almost didn’t feel real—Aaron leaned in.

Your breath hitched.

And then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was hesitant, searching—like he was afraid of what it meant but couldn’t stop himself, either.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, your heart hammering against your ribs. You had imagined this moment so many times, but nothing had ever felt quite like this.

But then, just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled away.

His eyes were wide, his breathing unsteady, and for a moment, you thought he was about to say something that would change everything.

But then his face shuttered.

“I—” He swallowed, shaking his head slightly. “That was a mistake.”

The words hit you like a slap.

Aaron must have seen something in your face because he immediately backpedaled. “I mean—I just—” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your stomach twisted, and you forced yourself to nod. “Right. Yeah.”

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. The song was still playing, but neither of you were dancing anymore.

You should’ve said something. Told him he was wrong. That it wasn’t a mistake, that it meant something.

But instead, you nodded again and forced a smile. “It’s fine, Aaron.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else—like he was desperate to—but instead, he just exhaled and gave you the smallest, saddest smile.

And that was that.

Neither of you brought it up again.

𐙚

You and Aaron didn’t fall apart after that night.

You still spent the summer together before college, still stayed up late talking, still laughed until your stomachs hurt.

And if sometimes his eyes lingered on you a little too long, or if you caught yourself remembering the feeling of his lips on yours—you both pretended it never happened.

Because that’s what Aaron wanted.

And if he could pretend, then so could you.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

It hadn’t been a mistake.

It had been a choice.

And maybe, one day, he would finally be brave enough to make a different one.

𐙚

The summer after graduation felt like borrowed time.

You and Aaron knew things were changing—college, distance, new experiences—but neither of you talked about it. Instead, you spent every moment together, stretching out the days like they could last forever.

Late-night drives with the windows down, the radio playing softly in the background. Sneaking into your old high school football field, lying on the grass, talking about nothing and everything. Silent moments where you’d catch him looking at you, like he was memorizing your face, just in case.

But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, August crept closer.

“I don’t get why you’re going all the way to New York,” Aaron said one evening, his voice unusually tense. You were sitting on the swings at the park, your feet dragging in the dirt.

“Because I need to,” you said simply, staring up at the sky. “And you’re staying here because you need to.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. He was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. “We’ll still talk all the time.”

You nodded, but a part of you didn’t believe it.

It wasn’t like you wanted to drift apart, but life had a way of pulling people in different directions.

𐙚

At first, you kept your promise.

You called constantly—late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours, emails filled with inside jokes and stories about your new lives. You told Aaron about your classes, your new favorite coffee shop, the people you met. He told you about his professors, how law school wasn’t as bad as he expected, how his dad was already making plans for his future.

But as the months passed, the calls grew less frequent.

“I miss you,” you admitted one night, your voice quieter than usual.

“I miss you too,” he said, but he sounded tired, distracted.

And then, one day, he didn’t pick up.

It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He got busy. You got busy. Weeks turned into months. You’d pick up your phone to text him, only to hesitate, wondering if he’d even have time to respond.

Slowly, the spaces between your conversations stretched wider, until one day, you realized you hadn’t spoken in over a year.

𐙚

1995

You weren’t expecting an invitation to Aaron’s wedding.

By that point, it had been years since you’d last spoken. Life had pulled you in opposite directions—him with law school and the FBI, you with your career and a life far from Virginia. But one day, an envelope appeared in your mailbox, his name scrawled neatly across the back.

Opening it, you found an invitation to his wedding with Haley.

It felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs.

The last time you’d seen Aaron, there had been something unspoken lingering between you, something you had buried deep because you didn’t know what to do with it. But now, seeing his name next to hers, reality hit you like a freight train.

He had moved on. He was happy.

And you? You weren’t sure what you felt.

A week later, your phone rang.

“Y/N,” Aaron’s familiar voice came through the line.

“Aaron,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hey.”

“Did you get the invitation?” he asked.

“I did,” you said softly. “I was… surprised.”

“I know,” he admitted, his tone hesitant. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come. But it wouldn’t feel right without you there.”

Your chest tightened.

“Of course I’ll come,” you said, even though part of you wanted to say no.

There was a pause, and then he cleared his throat. “There’s, uh, something else. Haley and I were talking… and I was wondering if you’d say a few words at the reception. You’ve known me the longest out of anyone, and—”

“Aaron,” you interrupted gently, your heart aching. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said firmly. “It would mean a lot to me.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

𐙚

The day of the wedding came faster than you expected.

You arrived at the church early, trying to keep your emotions in check as you took your seat near the front. The ceremony was beautiful—Haley looked radiant, Aaron impossibly handsome in his tux. Watching them exchange vows was bittersweet; you were happy for him, truly, but it was impossible to ignore the pang of longing deep in your chest.

At the reception, you did your best to blend into the background, sipping champagne and avoiding the dance floor. But when Aaron called your name, motioning for you to come up and speak, there was no hiding.

You took a deep breath, standing up and walking to the microphone. The room was quiet, all eyes on you, but your focus was solely on him.

“Hi, everyone,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Y/n. Aaron and I have been friends since high school, and I’m honored to be here today to celebrate this incredible milestone in his life.”

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the small, encouraging smile he gave you.

“I could stand here and talk for hours about the kind of person Aaron is. How he’s always been the smartest guy in the room, how he has this way of making everyone feel safe, of making them laugh even when he pretends he’s the serious one. He’s someone who gives all of himself to the people he loves.”

You hesitated, gripping the edge of the microphone stand.

“But what I really want to say is this: Aaron, no matter where life takes you, no matter where you are or who you’re with, you’ll always have a piece of my heart. I’ll always love you.”

The room was quiet for a beat before polite applause broke out. Everyone took your words as the sentiment of a lifelong friend, but when your eyes met Aaron’s, you knew he didn’t.

His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of recognition, maybe even regret.

He didn’t say anything, though.

Later, as the night wound down, you found yourself alone on the balcony, staring out at the stars. You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Aaron standing there, his jacket off, his tie loosened.

He stepped beside you, resting his hands on the railing. The soft hum of music and laughter filtered through the open door, but out here, it was quiet—just the two of you and the weight of everything unspoken.

“You always did sneak away at parties,” he said, his voice tinged with warmth.

You smiled faintly. “Some things never change.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the kind that felt more like a conversation than anything you could put into words. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the slight slouch of his shoulders, the loosened tie, the way his fingers curled against the railing like he was anchoring himself.

“I meant what I said in there,” you said softly, breaking the stillness.

His jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he might say something. But instead, he exhaled slowly, looking down at his hands.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “Aaron…”

He turned to you then, his dark eyes meeting yours, and for a fleeting moment, you saw it—something raw and vulnerable, something that felt like an echo of the feelings you had buried long ago.

And just like that, it was gone.

Because Aaron already knew what you were about to say.

And he wanted—God, he wanted—to tell you he felt the same way. That there had been nights when he couldn’t sleep, thinking about the way you’d looked at him during your prom dance. That there had been moments when he’d almost picked up the phone, only to stop himself because he was afraid of what it would mean. That even now, standing beside you on his wedding night, part of him wished things had been different.

But he couldn’t.

Not now. Not tonight.

So instead, he reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than they should have.

“You always know what to say,” he said quietly, his lips twitching into a small, bittersweet smile.

You searched his face, hoping—praying—for something more. But he stepped back, the space between you suddenly feeling too wide and too small all at once.

“Come back inside,” he said, his voice soft. “They’ll miss you.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Okay.”

But as he walked back inside, you stayed behind, gripping the railing as your breath hitched in your throat.

Aaron had stopped at the doorway, his hand on the frame. For one fleeting second, he turned back to look at you, something heavy and unspoken in his eyes.

But he didn’t say it.

Because he knew that if he did, it would change everything.

And he couldn’t let himself do that.

So, with one final glance, he disappeared back into the glow of the reception, back to Haley, back to the life he had chosen.

You stayed on the balcony a little while longer, staring up at the stars, letting the weight of the moment settle over you.

Aaron loved you. You knew that now.

But sometimes, love wasn’t enough to rewrite the story.

And so, you turned and walked back inside, letting the door close behind you.

𐙚

2008

The coffee shop hadn’t changed.

It still smelled of roasted beans and cinnamon, the same tiny bell chimed above the door when someone walked in, and the old barista at the counter still greeted customers with a warm, knowing smile. It was one of those places that seemed untouched by time, as if the world could shift and change outside, but inside, everything remained the same.

You hadn’t been here in years. Not since before Aaron’s wedding.

And yet, as you stepped inside, the familiarity wrapped around you like an old memory.

You had been back in D.C. for a few days, just for work. It wasn’t meant to be anything more than a quick trip—a conference, a few meetings, and then back home. But something about the city had drawn you in, pulling at the threads of a past you thought you had let go of.

And apparently, fate wasn’t done with you yet.

Because there, sitting in the farthest corner of the café, was him.

Aaron Hotchner.

He looked different. Older, in a way that had nothing to do with age. His hair was shorter than you remembered, the sharp angles of his face even more defined. He looked good—too good—but there was something behind his eyes, a tiredness that hadn’t been there before.

You hesitated, debating whether or not to turn around and leave before he could see you. But it was too late.

Aaron looked up just as you took a step back, and the second his gaze locked onto yours, time seemed to slow.

His expression shifted from surprise to something softer, something almost unreadable. And then, before you could make a decision, he smiled—just a little, just enough to make your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

You took a breath and walked toward him.

“Hey, stranger,” you said, your voice lighter than you felt.

Aaron’s lips twitched, like he was suppressing a real smile. “I was starting to think you disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

You chuckled as you slid into the chair across from him. “I could say the same about you.”

There was a beat of silence. Not an awkward one, just a quiet moment of taking each other in.

“How long has it been?” he asked finally.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Since your wedding.”

His expression flickered for a moment, but he covered it quickly, nodding. “Yeah. A long time.”

Another pause.

You weren’t sure how to bring it up—how to ask him how he was doing without bringing up her. The last time you had seen him, he had been standing at the altar, his hands in Haley’s as he vowed forever. And you had smiled, clapped along with everyone else, and then walked away, knowing deep down that something between you and Aaron had closed that day.

But now? Now, he was sitting here, alone.

“You look good,” you said instead. “Tired, but good.”

Aaron huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s a nice way of saying I look like hell.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He took a sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim of his cup before setting it down. And then, just like that, his expression shifted again—more serious, more raw.

“I’m divorced.”

The words came so suddenly that it took you a moment to register them.

You blinked. “Oh.”

Aaron let out a breath, as if finally saying it aloud was both a relief and a weight at the same time. “It’s been over a half year now.”

Half year. And you had no idea.

You swallowed, trying to push past the sudden rush of emotions you couldn’t quite name. “I’m sorry, Aaron.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was… inevitable.” He leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. “We tried. For a long time. But in the end, it just wasn’t working anymore.”

You wanted to ask what had happened. If it had been something specific, or if it had just been one of those things that slowly fell apart over time. But the way he was looking at you—calm, but tired—told you that he had already accepted it.

And maybe that was the hardest part.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, playing with the edge of your sleeve. “I mean… I know it’s not easy.”

Aaron nodded, his gaze dropping to his coffee. “No, it’s not. But it was the right thing.” He exhaled softly, then looked up at you again. “Enough about me. What about you? How’s life?”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you weren’t sure what to say. Your life had been full—work, travel, relationships that never seemed to stick—but sitting here with him, all of that seemed distant. Like another version of yourself had lived it.

“I’m good,” you said finally. “Busy, mostly. Traveling a lot for work.”

Aaron smirked. “Still running away from D.C.?”

You rolled your eyes. “I prefer the term ‘exploring my options.’”

That made him chuckle, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were still the same two people who had spent their high school years hiding out on rooftops and sneaking off to coffee shops to escape reality.

But things had changed.

He wasn’t the same boy you had fallen for all those years ago. And you weren’t the same girl who had spent too many nights wondering if he ever saw you the way you saw him.

Yet, somehow, the thread between you had never truly broken.

Aaron’s expression softened again, and before you could say anything else, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a few taps, he turned it toward you, showing you a picture.

A little boy with light hair and bright, curious eyes stared back at you, his smile so familiar it made your chest tighten.

“Is this…?”

“Jack,” Aaron said, and there was something different in his voice now. Something lighter. “He’s four now.”

You felt a smile pull at your lips as you studied the picture. “He’s adorable.”

Aaron chuckled, putting his phone away. “He’s amazing. Smart, stubborn, way too independent for his own good.” He shook his head fondly. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You watched him for a moment, the way his entire demeanor had changed. Even after everything—the divorce, the exhaustion written in the lines of his face—there was no mistaking the love he had for his son. It was in every word, in every expression.

And something about that made your heart ache even more.

“You’d love him,” Aaron added after a pause, looking at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

You met his gaze, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m sure I would.”

Neither of you said anything after that. You just sat there, in a coffee shop that had stayed the same, even when everything else had changed.

And for the first time in years, you let yourself wonder if maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end of the story after all.

𐙚

The few days in D.C. passed too quickly.

You and Aaron spent what little time you could together—coffee in the mornings, long conversations that stretched into the evening. It was strange how easily you fell back into each other’s rhythm, like time had never separated you at all.

But reality had a way of creeping back in.

The night before you left, you sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the city lights glowing softly in the distance. Aaron had insisted on walking with you one last time, hands shoved in his pockets, his face unreadable.

“So,” he said after a long silence. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, staring out at the reflecting pool.

Neither of you said what you were really thinking. That it wasn’t fair. That fate had brought you back together only to pull you apart again.

Aaron shifted beside you. “I should’ve called you years ago.”

You turned to him, surprised. His gaze was distant, his jaw tight.

“I thought about it,” he admitted, finally looking at you. “So many times. But I kept telling myself it had been too long. That maybe you’d moved on.”

Your heart ached at the confession.

“I would’ve answered,” you said softly.

His lips pressed together, like he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to.

Instead, he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. His grip was warm, solid, grounding.

Maybe, in another lifetime, this moment would’ve been different. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to say goodbye again.

𐙚

The night air was crisp as you stood outside your hotel, your bag resting at your feet. Aaron stood beside you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, the city lights casting a soft glow on his face.

“I feel like I should say something profound,” you said, offering a small, wry smile.

Aaron huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have to.”

But there was something in his expression—something unreadable, something hesitant.

You exhaled, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “This was nice. Seeing you again.”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was.”

A beat of silence.

The car that would take you to the airport pulled up to the curb, but neither of you moved.

You looked up at him, and suddenly, the weight of it all settled in your chest. The fact that, after years apart, you had found each other again—only for you to leave. Again.

His gaze softened, and you could feel it—that pull, the invisible string that had always been there between you, stretching taut.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, he was closer. The warmth of his body cut through the cold night air, and your breath hitched as his hand barely, barely brushed against yours.

It would be so easy.

So easy to close the space, to lean in, to finally let go of all the years of missed chances and unspoken words.

Your heart pounded as you tilted your chin up ever so slightly, eyes flickering to his lips.

And for a moment, you thought—

But then, just as quickly as the moment came, Aaron took a step back.

His jaw tightened, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “I should let you go,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “Yeah.”

The door to the car opened, and you forced yourself to move, to pick up your bag and step away from him.

As you slid into the seat, you risked one last glance at him.

He was still standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you go.

And then the door closed, and you were gone.

𐙚

2009

It was late. Too late for a casual call.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up in the darkness of your hotel room. You were half-asleep, groggy as you reached for it, your brain sluggishly registering the name on the screen.

Aaron.

A strange feeling settled in your stomach as you sat up, clearing your throat before answering.

“Aaron?”

At first, there was nothing. Just silence and the sound of breathing—uneven, shaky.

You frowned, fully awake now. “Aaron? Are you okay?”

Then, finally, his voice. But it was different. Not the steady, composed Aaron Hotchner you had always known. This voice was hollow, cracked at the edges, barely above a whisper.

“She’s gone.”

Two words.

And yet, they carried a weight that nearly stole the breath from your lungs.

Your grip on the phone tightened. “What?”

Aaron inhaled sharply, but it sounded ragged. “Haley,” he murmured. “She’s… she’s gone.”

It hit you like a punch to the chest.

Haley.

You closed your eyes, your heart aching in a way you hadn’t expected. No matter what had happened between them—no matter the divorce, the years, the distance—she had been a part of his life, the mother of his child. And now, she was gone.

“Oh, Aaron…”

He didn’t say anything. And that silence—his silence—was almost worse than if he had broken down.

You could hear it in the way he was breathing, though. The way he was holding himself together by a thread.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” he admitted after a long moment, his voice barely there.

Your heart clenched.

“Aaron,” you said softly, leaning forward, as if that would somehow bring you closer to him. “Where are you?”

“Home.” Another pause. Then, quieter, “Jack is asleep.”

You shut your eyes. The thought of Jack—so small, so young—losing his mother made your chest tighten painfully.

“I’m coming,” you said without hesitation, already pushing the blankets off, already reaching for your suitcase.

Aaron exhaled, and you swore you heard the slightest waver in it.

“Okay,” he murmured.

That was it.

No protest. No telling you that you didn’t have to.

Just okay.

Because right now, he didn’t need distance. He didn’t need space.

He needed you.

And you would be there. Always.

𐙚

The flight to D.C. felt like the longest of your life.

You barely remembered packing. Barely remembered booking the ticket, rushing through the airport, or the restless way your fingers twisted in your lap during the flight. All you could think about was him.

The man who had always been steady, composed, unshakable. The man who, even in his darkest moments, never allowed himself to break.

But tonight, he had called you.

And that told you everything you needed to know.

By the time you arrived at his apartment, it was past midnight. The cab ride had been quiet, the city lights casting long shadows over the streets. When you stepped out in front of the building, you hesitated for just a moment, your heart pounding.

Then you walked inside.

The hallway leading to his door felt endless, every step heavier than the last. When you finally reached it, you took a deep breath and knocked softly.

It only took a few seconds for the door to open.

And the second you saw him, everything inside you shattered.

Aaron looked wrecked.

His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened and off-center, like he had pulled at it absentmindedly. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed, dark circles beneath them. He looked like a man who had lost something he couldn’t fathom living without.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, without thinking, without hesitation, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

Aaron didn’t move at first. He just stood there, stiff, like he wasn’t sure how to respond. Like he had forgotten what it meant to be held.

But then, slowly—so slowly—his arms came around you, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

And that’s when you felt it.

The way his body shook against yours. The way his fingers curled into your jacket like he needed something to hold onto. The way his breath came out in a harsh, uneven exhale against your shoulder.

It was the closest thing to breaking you had ever seen from him.

And it crushed you.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your throat tight, your eyes burning.

Aaron didn’t answer. He just held you tighter.

You stayed like that for a long time, standing in the doorway, wrapped in grief and something else—something unspoken, something that had always been there between you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes searched yours, something vulnerable in them that you had never seen before.

Then, in a voice so raw it barely sounded like him, he said, “She told me to take care of him.”

You swallowed, your heart aching. “Jack?”

Aaron nodded, blinking rapidly, his jaw tightening as he looked away. “She made me promise.” His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists like he was trying to pull himself back together. “But I don’t—”

He stopped, exhaling sharply. Then, softer, more broken, “I don’t know if I can do this alone.”

You didn’t hesitate.

“You’re not alone.”

Aaron’s gaze snapped back to yours, something unreadable in his eyes.

You reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I promise, Aaron. You’re not alone.”

For a moment, he just looked at you.

And then, finally—finally—he nodded.

And in that moment, something between you shifted.

Maybe it was the grief. Maybe it was the years of missed chances and unspoken words. Or maybe, it was just the simple fact that, no matter how much time passed, you would always find your way back to each other.

Even in the darkest of nights.

Even when the world felt unbearably heavy.

You would always be his person.

And deep down, you knew—he would always be yours.

𐙚

The first week after the funeral, you woke up to the sound of movement.

You rubbed your eyes, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the apartment. It took you a moment to register where you were—on the couch, still wrapped in the blanket from last night.

Then you heard it again. The soft rustling of fabric, the quiet click of a belt buckle.

You sat up immediately, pushing the blanket off as you spotted Aaron standing near the kitchen, already dressed in his suit.

Your stomach dropped.

“You’re going in?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep but laced with disbelief.

Aaron barely glanced at you as he adjusted his tie. “There’s a case.”

You stared at him. “Aaron, no. You just—”

“I can’t sit here,” he interrupted, his voice steady but hollow. “I can’t—” He stopped himself, pressing his lips together tightly before exhaling. “I need to work.”

Your heart clenched.

He was doing what he always did—burying himself in the job, using it as a shield, as something to focus on so he wouldn’t have to sit still and feel.

You stood, walking toward him. “You need more time,” you said softly.

Aaron finally looked at you then, and for the first time since the funeral, there was something sharp in his gaze. Not anger—just exhaustion, frustration.

“I don’t have time,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Jack needs stability. He needs normalcy. And if I don’t go back, if I don’t move, then—” He cut himself off again, clenching his jaw.

You swallowed hard, reaching out to touch his arm. “He needs you, Aaron. And you’re not ready—”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The weight in his voice made your chest ache.

You wanted to fight him on this. Wanted to tell him that he was being reckless, that he wasn’t a machine, that he needed to grieve before he shattered under the weight of it all.

But you knew Aaron.

You knew that if you pushed too hard, he’d only dig his heels in deeper.

So instead, you took a breath and shifted the conversation. “What about Jack?”

Aaron hesitated. “Jessica can take him for the day,” he said, but it sounded like an afterthought.

You shook your head. “No. Let me stay with him.”

Aaron blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to,” you said gently, giving him a look. “But I want to. He knows me. He’s comfortable with me. Let me be here for him while you—” You sighed, not wanting to finish that sentence.

While you run from your grief.

Aaron was quiet for a long time. His gaze flickered between you and Jack’s bedroom door, the weight of the decision settling over him.

Then, finally, he nodded.

“Okay.”

You let out a quiet breath, relieved that he wasn’t arguing. “Okay,” you echoed.

Aaron glanced at his watch, then back at you. There was something unreadable in his expression, something almost hesitant.

Then, before you could say anything else, he reached out, squeezing your hand briefly.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

And then, just like that, he was gone.

𐙚

Jack woke up about an hour later, padding out of his room in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes.

When he saw you in the kitchen, his tiny brows furrowed. “Where’s Daddy?”

You crouched down to his level, keeping your voice soft. “He had to go to work for a little bit.”

Jack’s lip wobbled slightly, but he didn’t cry. “He was sad yesterday.”

Your heart squeezed.

“I know, buddy,” you murmured, brushing some of his messy hair back. “But he loves you so much. And he’s going to be home soon.”

Jack hesitated, then looked up at you. “Will you stay?”

You smiled gently. “Of course. We’re gonna have a fun day together, okay?”

Jack seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding. Then, in a small voice, he said, “Can we have pancakes?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Absolutely.”

Jack’s face brightened, and for the first time since you arrived, you saw a glimpse of something lighter in his expression.

And in that moment, you knew—no matter what happened, no matter how much Aaron tried to push forward too soon—you’d be here.

For Jack.

For Aaron.

For both of them.

Always.

𐙚

A month passed in the blink of an eye

The apartment was quiet.

Jack had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up in bed after insisting you read him his favorite book one last time before you left.

Now, it was just you and Aaron, sitting on the couch in the dim glow of the living room lamp, nursing cups of tea that had long gone cold.

Neither of you had said much for a while, just sitting in comfortable silence, knowing this was the last night before things changed again.

Aaron sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s going to be strange without you here.”

You smiled slightly. “You’ll manage.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Somehow.”

A beat of silence.

Then, without really thinking, you murmured, “I’m leaving my job.”

Aaron’s head turned sharply, his brows furrowing. “What?”

You let out a breath, staring down at your mug. “It’s… it became too much,” you admitted. “The hours, the pressure, the constant stress. I used to love it, but now it just feels like I’m running on empty all the time.”

Aaron was quiet, watching you carefully.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “I just… I don’t want my entire life to be about work anymore. I want something simpler. Something where I don’t wake up every morning feeling like I can’t breathe.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet. “I get that.”

You looked at him, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.

Because he did get it.

Maybe better than anyone.

You smiled weakly. “I think I’m going to find something small. Something normal. Maybe work in a bookstore or a little office job—something where I can actually live my life instead of just surviving it.”

Aaron nodded slowly, considering your words. “That sounds… nice.”

You huffed a laugh. “You sound surprised.”

His lips twitched. “No. Just… I don’t think I’ve ever thought about what a normal life would look like.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You ever think about leaving the BAU?”

Aaron hesitated, looking down at his hands. “Sometimes.”

That surprised you. “Really?”

He exhaled. “I love what I do. But… I don’t know. Lately, I’ve started wondering if it’s sustainable. If it’s fair to Jack.”

You nodded, understanding.

Maybe neither of you had ever really stopped long enough to think about what else life could be.

You bit your lip, then nudged his arm lightly. “Maybe we should both find some sleepy little town and open a coffee shop.”

Aaron chuckled. “I’d be terrible at that.”

You smirked. “You’d be the serious owner who glares at customers for taking too long to order, and I’d be the one making sure we don’t get bad Yelp reviews.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “It’s a solid business model.”

You grinned, but then, after a moment, the smile faded, replaced by something softer. “I mean it, though. You deserve something easier, Aaron.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something unreadable in his expression.

“You do too,” he murmured.

A beat of silence.

Then, before the moment could stretch too long, you sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Well, first things first—I need to figure out what I’m doing next.”

Aaron nodded, but his gaze lingered on you, like he was committing this moment to memory.

Like maybe, for the first time, he was realizing that you wouldn’t always be here.

That tomorrow, you were leaving.

And neither of you knew when you’d be back.

𐙚

The next morning came too quickly.

You woke up before your alarm, the weight of the day pressing down on your chest before you even opened your eyes.

By the time you stepped out of your room, your suitcase already packed and waiting by the door, Aaron was in the kitchen making coffee. Jack sat at the table in his pajamas, sleepily pushing around pieces of cereal in his bowl.

Aaron glanced up when he saw you, his expression unreadable. “Morning.”

You forced a smile. “Morning.”

Jack perked up at your voice, but as soon as he remembered what today was, his little face fell. “You’re leaving.”

Your heart clenched.

You walked over, crouching down beside his chair. “I am, buddy,” you said softly. “But I’m going to come visit. And you can call me whenever you want, okay?”

Jack hesitated, then wrapped his arms around your neck in a tight hug.

You held him close, closing your eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth of him. “I love you, kiddo,” you murmured.

“Love you too,” he whispered back.

When he finally pulled away, he wiped at his eyes but nodded, like he was trying to be brave. “Okay.”

You gave him one last squeeze before standing up, turning to Aaron.

He was watching you carefully, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug.

“Your flight’s soon,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence.

Then, Aaron cleared his throat. “I’ll drive you.”

“Aaron—”

“It’s not up for debate,” he said, giving you a look. “Let’s go.”

You sighed, but you didn’t argue.

Jack waved from the door as you left, and you swore you saw his lip wobble, but he stayed put—just like you’d promised, he was strong.

𐙚

The drive to the airport was quiet.

Not uncomfortable. Just… heavy.

Neither of you seemed to know what to say.

When Aaron finally pulled up to the drop-off curb, he put the car in park and exhaled slowly. “You’ll text me when you land?”

You smiled faintly. “Of course.”

He nodded, gripping the steering wheel for a moment before finally turning to you. “You sure about leaving your job?”

You huffed a soft laugh. “I think so.”

Aaron studied you, then—before you could react—reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

The touch was so gentle, so unexpected, that you froze.

His hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away, clearing his throat.

“You’ll be okay,” he murmured.

Your chest ached. “You will too.”

Aaron exhaled, glancing away for a second before looking back at you. “Thank you. For everything.”

You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to thank me, Aaron.”

His jaw tightened, like there was something else he wanted to say.

Something he wouldn’t say.

Instead, he nodded once, his hand twitching slightly like he was debating whether to reach for you again. But he didn’t.

So you did.

You leaned in, wrapping your arms around him.

For a second, Aaron hesitated.

Then he let out a quiet breath and pulled you in, holding you tighter than he probably meant to.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you spoke.

And for just a moment, the rest of the world didn’t exist.

But then—too soon—it had to.

You pulled back, forcing a small smile. “I’ll see you, okay?”

Aaron nodded, but there was something in his eyes that made it hard to walk away.

Still, you grabbed your suitcase and turned toward the airport entrance.

But just before you stepped inside, you glanced over your shoulder—

And there he was, still sitting in the car, watching you.

Like he wasn’t ready to let you go.

Like maybe, deep down—

He never would be.

𐙚

2011

The bullpen was quiet. Most of the team had already gone home for the night, leaving only the faint hum of computers and the distant murmur of voices from other departments. The dim glow of Aaron Hotchner’s desk lamp illuminated the stacks of paperwork in front of him, but he wasn’t reading them.

His eyes were on the framed picture beside his computer.

It was a simple photo, but one that had somehow found a permanent place in his office. You and Jack, at the park. You were laughing, your head tilted back slightly as Jack clung to your side, his small arms wrapped around yours. It had been taken nearly two years ago, back when you had been staying in D.C. after Haley’s death—back when you had been his anchor without even realizing it.

His fingers traced the edge of the frame absentmindedly.

How had two years passed?

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t thought about you. In fact, that was the problem. He had never stopped thinking about you. It was in the quiet moments, in the spaces between work and home, in the memories that resurfaced when he least expected them.

He thought about you when Jack asked about you.

He thought about you when he reached for his phone late at night, only to stop himself before dialing your number.

He thought about you when he walked past the coffee shop you had loved in D.C., the one where you had made him take a break from his endless case files just to sit with you and drink overpriced lattes.

He thought about you, and every time he convinced himself to push it aside, it always crept back in.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. He was being ridiculous. He had no right to feel this way after all this time.

And yet, the ache in his chest told him otherwise.

The knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hotch?”

David Rossi.

Aaron straightened slightly, clearing his throat as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Yeah?”

Rossi stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door behind him. His eyes flickered to the framed picture on the desk before settling on Aaron.

“You’re thinking about her again,” Rossi stated, not even posing it as a question.

Aaron’s jaw tensed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rossi scoffed, dropping into the chair across from him. “Please. I’ve been doing this job long enough to know when someone’s got something—or someone—on their mind.” He nodded toward the picture. “And you? You’ve been staring at that damn thing for the past twenty minutes.”

Aaron glanced at the photo again, feeling a tightness in his chest.

“I wasn’t—” He started to deny it, but Rossi’s knowing look stopped him.

“You miss her.”

It wasn’t a question.

Aaron inhaled deeply, pressing his lips together before finally exhaling. “…Yeah.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I do.”

Rossi leaned forward slightly. “Then what the hell are you still doing here?”

Aaron frowned. “What?”

Rossi sighed, shaking his head. “Hotch, you’re one of the smartest men I know, but when it comes to your own feelings, you are clueless.” He pointed at him. “She left, and you let her go. But if you think she’s just gone from your life, then you’re fooling yourself.”

Aaron looked away, running a hand through his hair. “She moved on. She’s in New York, she has her own life now. I can’t just show up and—”

Rossi interrupted. “Why not?”

Aaron looked back at him.

Rossi’s expression softened slightly. “Tell me something. If you called her right now—if you told her you wanted to see her—do you really think she’d say no?”

Aaron opened his mouth, then closed it.

Because the truth was—he didn’t know.

He had spent so long convincing himself that he had no right to ask for more, that he had never even considered the possibility that you might have been waiting for him to say something.

Rossi sighed again. “Look, kid. Life doesn’t wait for you to figure things out. It moves on, whether you’re ready or not. And if you sit here for another two years convincing yourself you missed your chance, you’re going to wake up one day and realize that she really is gone.”

Aaron swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the thought.

“She’s still out there, Hotch,” Rossi said, his voice quieter now. “And something tells me she hasn’t stopped thinking about you either.”

Aaron’s fingers tightened around the frame in his hands.

“Go to her,” Rossi said simply. “Before it’s too late.”

For a long moment, Aaron didn’t say anything.

Rossi didn’t push. He just stood up, clapped Aaron on the shoulder, and left the office.

Aaron remained still, staring down at the picture again.

Go to her.

Before it’s too late.

The words echoed in his mind long after Rossi was gone.

And for the first time in nearly two years, Aaron wondered if maybe, just maybe, he still had a chance.

𐙚

The streets of New York were loud, alive with their usual rhythm—cars honking, people moving past each other in hurried steps, conversations blending into the background hum of the city. But Aaron barely noticed any of it.

His heart was pounding, his palms slightly clammy despite the cold air.

He had spent the entire flight convincing himself he was making a mistake. That he had no right to do this. That you had probably moved on, that maybe you had someone else now, that showing up like this was selfish.

But then, he had thought about what Rossi had said.

Before it’s too late.

And now he was standing in front of your coffee shop, staring through the large glass windows, his breath fogging slightly against the cold air.

There you were.

Moving behind the counter, your face lit up in a laugh as you spoke to a customer. You looked happy. Comfortable. Like you belonged here.

For a moment, he thought about walking away.

But then, as if sensing him, you turned toward the window.

And your eyes met his.

Your laughter faded, your lips parting slightly in surprise.

Aaron felt frozen in place, his breath caught in his chest as he saw the realization dawn in your expression.

Then, slowly, you stepped out from behind the counter and made your way toward the door.

The bell above the entrance chimed softly as you pushed it open, stepping outside onto the sidewalk, arms wrapped around yourself against the cold.

“Aaron?” Your voice was breathless, as if you couldn’t quite believe he was standing in front of you.

He swallowed hard, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “Hey.”

There was a beat of silence, the city moving around you, but in that moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked softly.

Aaron took a shaky breath. “I needed to see you.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “After almost two years?”

“I know,” he admitted. “I know it’s been too long. And I should have come sooner. I should have said something sooner.” His throat tightened as he looked at you. “But I was afraid.”

You exhaled softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Afraid of what?”

His lips pressed together for a moment before he met your gaze again. “Afraid of losing you. Afraid that if I told you how I felt, I’d ruin everything.”

You stared at him, your breath catching. “Aaron…”

But he kept going, his voice raw, unguarded in a way he had never allowed himself to be before.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted. “Not after you left. Not after any of it. I tried. I told myself I had to let you go. That you had your own life now, and I had mine. But every time I thought I had moved on, I’d hear your voice in my head. I’d see something that reminded me of you, or Jack would ask about you, and it was like—” He let out a shaky breath. “It was like I was still reaching for something that was already gone.”

You swallowed, your eyes shining as you listened.

Aaron took a step closer, his voice lower now. “And then Rossi—he told me I needed to stop running from it. That I needed to come here before it was too late.” He exhaled, his eyes searching yours. “And he was right.”

You blinked up at him, your breath shallow.

Aaron hesitated for only a second before he took your hands in his, his grip warm, grounding.

“I love you,” he said, the words breaking free like a confession he had held back for too many years. “I’ve loved you for longer than I ever admitted to myself. And I’m done pretending I don’t.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

For so long, you had wanted to hear those words. You had dreamed about this moment, imagined it in so many different ways. But now, standing here, with the weight of his confession settling between you, you realized something—

You had never imagined this.

The way his voice trembled with emotion. The way his eyes looked at you, full of something deep and unshakable. The way the city buzzed around you, but it felt like there was no one else in the world.

You felt tears welling in your eyes as you exhaled a quiet laugh, almost disbelieving. “You really came all this way… just to tell me that?”

Aaron smiled, just barely, but his voice was still raw with honesty. “Yeah. I did.”

Your lips parted slightly, your chest tightening with so much emotion you could barely breathe.

And then—

You didn’t think. You just moved.

You reached up, grabbing the collar of his coat, and pulled him down to you.

Aaron barely had time to react before your lips were on his, soft but urgent, years of unspoken words and unsaid feelings pouring into the kiss.

He inhaled sharply, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, his body instinctively leaning into yours.

And then—

The memory hit.

The prom.

The slow song, the way your hands had rested on his shoulders, the warmth of his hands on your waist. The way the world had faded until it was just the two of you, swaying gently, the room spinning in a blur of lights.

And the kiss.

The way it had been tentative, hesitant, the taste of something new and terrifying. The way neither of you had spoken about it afterward, too afraid of what it might mean.

Now, years later, the kiss was no longer hesitant. It was deep, full, a promise of everything that had been left unsaid for too long.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, your forehead rested against his.

Aaron let out a soft, shaky laugh. “That was—”

“Long overdue?” you finished for him, smiling softly.

He chuckled, his fingers brushing against your jaw. “Yeah.”

You exhaled, your voice quieter now. “I waited for you, you know.”

Aaron’s throat tightened. “I know.” His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “And I’m so sorry I made you wait this long.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, just letting yourself feel the warmth of his touch, the way his breath mixed with yours in the cold air.

Then you looked at him again, your voice steady, certain.

“You’re here now.”

Aaron nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “I am.”

And this time, there was no doubt.

No hesitation.

No going back.

Just the two of you, standing in the middle of a busy New York street, finally getting it right.

Finally finding your way back to each other.

---

[elluminis]

my anime hot take is that fairy tail is like if one piece had better pacing but was 10 times worse

[unlust-fvck]

"please get off my lap." "but you're so much prettier from this angle."

with chuckle sammy + will (and dreamy weamy if not its ok)

i had so much fun writing this :’) i went OVERBOARD.

schlatt- it was one of those normal work days for him; editing and playing the same clip over and over again until he deemed it perfect. you, on the other hand, found this pointless and decided to go bother him.

“jayyyyyy”

he wouldn’t even move, knowing your exact objective. he’d just let out one of those disappointed parental sighs. you’d peer into the room and quietly patter into the once spare bedroom that was now schlatt’s streaming/editing/whatever-else room. as you walked up behind him, you placed both of your palms firmly onto his shoulders and nuzzled your cheek into his, now longer, hair. inhaling deeply, you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

“i’m busy.”

he knew he couldn’t keep you off for long after you let out a pitiful whine. schlatt let out a sigh as his eyes fluttered closed and spun around in his chair to face you. he stared at you with an inquisitive look. you smiled, knowing you had gotten your way as your eyes flickered down to his lap, then back up to his. he shook his head.

“toots, i’m busy.”

he could repeat it until the end of time as you climbed into his lap. he gave in reluctantly as one arm wrapped around the small of your back to keep you steady. as he attempted to finish his video, you whined impatiently as you played with the neckline of his t-shirt.

“can you please get off my lap? you’re distracting me.”

“but you’re so much prettier from this angle”

he couldn’t argue with that.

charlie- as you got ready for bed, you could hear charlie humming to himself in the bedroom. just as you had finished brushing your teeth, you trotted into the bedroom and sat on the bed. you observed charlie as he tidied up the room, still humming to himself. as he laid down beside you, the humming ceased and his head plopped into your lap, his arms behind his head. you chuckled and pressed a lingering kiss to the center of his forehead. when you pulled away, you found him gazing at you. his eyes were so full of love; an adoring grin gracing his lips.

“char, you’ve got to get your head out of my lap, it’s bed time.”

he just continued to look at you as he formulated the perfect thing to say.

“but you look so pretty from this angle- n-not that you don’t look pretty all the time, im just saying that-“

you shut him up with a kiss.

ted- ted was all about domestic moments with you; everything from cooking dinners to going on dates that gave him butterflies though you had been together for years. tonight was movie night, yet you had other plans. instead of watching the movie that ted was very much interested in, you were gazing at him. the way his nose sloped down and was so cute. the way his eyes gleamed in the light of the television. he was perfect. just as you were bathing in his features, you didn’t realize how close you had gotten to him; your face inches away from his cheek. you pressed a small kiss to it and crawled into his lap for better access. before you could go any further, ted chuckled and tried to push you away, his view obstructed.

“honey pot, i can’t see. you’ve got to get off.”

you pouted and stood your ground as you pressed lingering kisses all along his face and down his neck.

“you.” kiss “just.” kiss “look.” kiss “so.” kiss “pretty.” kiss “from here.”

ted smiled and chuckled breathlessly, before taking his glasses off and sliding them onto the table. he laid down and pulled you with him as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips.

he really didn’t care if he missed the movie.

wilbur- will was a sunday morning enjoyer. he’d have his old battered book in one hand and the other drawing mindless shapes across your half asleep figure in bed. just as he was about to flip the page with his hand on you, you whined and pulled it back down. he looked at you for a moment, piecing your features together, before showing a gentle smile and placing his book down on the bed.

“s’wrong, love?”

his voice was sweet and like caramel; dripping from his lips ever-so gently. you could just melt as his hand continued moving across your collarbones and shoulders mindlessly. you huffed and nodded your head to his lap.

“i’m almost done with this chapter, not now, alright?”

you let out a whine in protest as he chuckled quietly and picked his book back up, the movements on your chest growing lazy. you knew you could push him. you scooted your head into his lap, gazing up at him from underneath his book. your eyes shined like stars; he was beautiful. wilbur let out a lighthearted sigh as he set his book down once again;

“darling, d’ya mind getting your head off my lap?”

you just shook your head, your eyes flickering to his slightly parted lips, then back up to his caramel eyes.

“you look much prettier from down here”

masterlist

[cranberrv]

enchanted

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston falls for the new girl

( a/n : i love this request sm!! reader is fem by the way, also not proofread also ooc! still cute tho! )

not many people wanted to move to tulsa, but for some people, it was their only option. that was the first similarity spotted between you and dallas.

of course, you and dallas were on different sides of the track, different chapters in a novel. you moved to tulsa for your fathers work, you were perfectly happy back at your old city, but you didn’t have a choice. dallas moved to tulsa to escape from the new york police.

you thought tulsa was bland. it was only your first week here, your first week emerced with all the other teenagers at school, but everyone here was grey. especially the east-side kids, the greasers. they were all broke and it looked like all the life was sucked out of them.

you, on the other hand, were fresh from los angeles, with a feminine flare to yourself and a genuine kindness that was rare in tulsa. even the rich kids were rude, but you were anything but.

it was the start of your second week of school, and your least favourite class was science. not because of the subject, it was just that the people in your class gave you dirty looks and the teacher had a voice that could put you to sleep. and your lab partner in the seat next to you had been away the entire time, leaving you to do projects alone.

today was supposed to be the exact same as usual. at the start of class, you walk in and sit down alone. the teacher does the attendance, and marks your mystery lab partner absent. today is independent work, finishing up a lab report and then doing a worksheet on protons and electrons. you want to fall asleep, it’s so boring. you’re listening to every silent conversation and looking out the window for a source of entertainment. you got your wish soon enough, as the door creaks open.

“hello,” your teacher greets to the boy that enters the room. “you are?”

“dallas winston,” he answers, throwing his burnt-out cigarette in the trash.

your teacher nods her head. “ah, you’re dallas winston,” the voice is slow as she pieces it together. you wonder why the words are said in such distaste.

you’ve given up on your work, watching dallas winston. he looks like an east-side kid, his hair is a bit messy and he radiates confidence. he certainly puts out an energy unlike anyone in this school.

they talk for a bit longer, the teacher obviously telling him it’s not okay to skip class. dallas tries to argue back for a little bit, but eventually gives up and holds his hands up in mock-surrender. the teacher takes a breath then points to you, giving him a worksheet and telling him to go sit next to you. he follows the teachers finger, and he tilts his head when he looks at you, trying to figure out if he knows you or not. his eyes light up a bit when you make eye contact with him. you like the way he looks at you.

dallas walks over, and sits next to you. there’s a few moments of silence as he gets himself settled. spitting out his gum, taking off his leather jacket, and finally landing his eyes on his sheet. he reads over the questions, and realizes has no idea how to do any of this. “you got a pencil?” he asks you.

“yeah, in my pencil case, help yourself,” you answer, and he grabs your pencil case and sifts through it to find one.

he takes one out and hands it back. you say thank you, and he thinks it was unnecessary to be polite about a simple thing but doesn’t say anything. “mechanical, huh?” he says about the pencil, pushing on the bottom to get the lead out. “expensive. what, you a soc or somethin’?”

you look from your worksheet up at him. he has a nice jawline, you notice. “a what?” you ask. an innocent question in your eyes, but one that has a lot more meaning for dallas.

who the hell doesn’t know what a soc is? he stares at you for a second, eyebrows furrowing. not out of annoyance, but out of genuine confusion about why you don’t know about the class-status that built up the entire reputation of tulsa. you know what a greaser is, but not a soc. and you barely know what a greaser is, anyway. you’ve just been told to stay away.

“you know, a rich-kid. a west-side kid.” you still look confused, and he comes to the conclusion that you’re not from here. so when he notices the confused look in your eye, he changes the subject. “where ya from, sugar?”

“i just moved from los angeles,” you tell him. his eyes drift down to your cute lace pink top. he thinks it’s totally something that someone from LA would wear. there’s a speck of silence as he analyzes you, and you feel the need to break it.

“i shoulda guessed,” he says with a raise of his eyebrows. you don’t know if he’s being mean or not. you hope he’s not mean.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean you look like you’re from hollywood or somethin’, with all the lace and the flashy bows and shit..” he’s poking at the lace lining your top. you can see him thinking about something while he’s looking at your lace. “christ, your lingerie collection must be insane, huh?”

there’s a blink of silence and a look of slight disbelief on your face. “what?”

“i’m messin’ with ya, sweetheart,” he chuckles.

“oh,” you say softly, cheeks going a bit hot.

“so,” he starts, switching the topic to a different note. “why’d ya move to fuckin’ tulsa?”

“my dad got a job here,” you explain, fiddling with your pencil in your hands. “why?”

“just curious,” he shrugs. “you know, most people don’t move to this hellhole.”

“you did,” you say, and he tilts his head. you think he’s looking at you because you’re just assuming things, and you’re probably wrong, so he’s judging you. “did you not?”

he cracks a smile. he wasn’t judging you, simply curious as to how you guessed he wasn’t from here. “yeah, i did, sugar,” he nods, leaning back in his seat. “how’d ya know?”

“your accent,” you explain. “very new yorker.”

“yeah? you like it?”

you mirror his smile. “yeah, i do.”

the class falls silent as the teacher insists everyone quiets down and focuses. dally's voice drops to a whisper when he responds, playfully pushing you away. “alright, miss hollywood, go do your work,” he teases. “gonna tell the teacher you’re distracting me,” he threatens, obviously playing around because he knows that he’s the one distracting you.

you smile and turn your head back to your sheet to finish it up. you begin peacefully working. dallas can’t help but stare at you as you do so. nibbling at your pencil while you’re thinking, constantly adjusting your top, brushing your hair out of your face every now and then, he notices it all. he can’t help it, he thinks you’re the sweetest person he’s ever seen.

you look up at him, feeling his intense gaze on you. you make eye contact and instantly turn away again, cheeks going pink like a tulip. why is he looking at you? do you have something on your face? you don’t know. you subconsiously wipe your cheek to make sure, and adjust your top again.

dallas finally looks away, and you take a breath and relax your shoulders. as much as he was acting sweet towards you, you could tell he had this rough edge that you should be worried about. but what truly worried you is the fact that his edge didn’t worry you. if anything, it lured you in. you wanted to learn everything about him. he was like the ocean, he was calm and beautiful but you had to swim out far and dive deep down to find out everything about him. and it felt like no one had, yet. he was a mystery. you liked that.

as you’re working, you hear the rip of lined paper beside you, then the scratch of a pencil. a few moments later, dallas hands you a piece of paper with a note on it.

“how do you do question 1?“ it reads.

you read the note and look up at him, smiling. you write down your answer, saying that he needs a calculator. you hand him yours, assuming correctly that he doesn’t own one.

he slides you another note a few seconds later. “it keeps saying weird shit on the calculator”

“what does it say?” you write back.

he takes longer than usual to write. you wait in anticipation. after what feels like forever (but was probably 15 seconds) he hands you another note. you read the numbers. you don’t understand how he got that answer. you read over it again, and then it clicks. it’s his phone number.

he’s looking at you as you read it. you look up at him and gently nod, putting his number in your pocket. you rip another piece of paper and write down, “i’ll call you.”

he reads it and writes back, and is about to hand it to you, until he quickly takes it back and adds something. then he hands it to you.

“good. (p.s. your little lace top is kinda cute)”

you read his little p.s. and smile to yourself, then to him. you mouth thank you to him. he mouths “anytime” back.

you have a feeling this won’t be the last time you and dallas winston say hello to each other in science class.

[latenightdaydreams]

hi, i adore your stuff, i have 2 things to say , can we have part 3 of roommates please I LOVE IT, and i have an idea for another story. theres a video going around camp of one of the guys jerking off (konig) and no one knows who it is, and (y/n) the new recruit finds the video and well...... has fun while watching it, eventually she finds out its her connells video, she can't look at him the same and hes getting suspicious why u keep blushing whenever you see him.

pleassssssss I LOVE UR STUFF lots of care<3 <3

Thank you!!! 💖💖

Roommates part 3 is here!

The Video (fem)

Part 2

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: porn, masturbation, fingering

1.0k word count

📹

.

.

“Have you seen the video of the guy on base with a horse cock?” Marie asks you as you both walk back from training.

“What? No. Who is it?” Your curiosity piqued.

“No one can figure it out, but dudes blessed. I’ll send it over snapchat.”

You both part ways and go to your room, undressing for the night. That’s when your cell went off. Opening your app, you open the video that was sent. It’s a video of a gigantic hand wrapping around the biggest cock you’ve ever seen in your life. The way the mystery man strokes it so masterfully…it’s fucking hot.

As you lay down in bed, you shamelessly save the video to your phone from snapchat. You go to your photo app and look at the video. Your hand slowly inches into your bra to lightly draw circles around your nipple, pressing your knees together for tension on your clit. All you can do is imagine what you’d do with a cock like that in your hands. How you’d gag yourself with it until you cried tears from having your throat stuffed.

His fingers look so thick, just one shoved into your pussy would probably feel better than most guys' dicks. The size of his cock is almost unbelievable. He has to be 10 inches and as thick as your forearm. You’d give anything to have this man completely ruin you.

Over the next few weeks, you masturbate to that video almost every night. At this point, you can basically close your eyes and see his cock and hand. Today, during training, Colonel König came over to correct your posture. His hands went to the weapon in your hand and made sure your grip was firm. As you take in his instruction, you gaze at his hands.

Your heart drops into your stomach when you notice the size of his fingers, the small scar over his thumb, and the mole on his middle finger. That’s the man’s exact hand. König is 6’10, so it would make sense for his cock to be enormous. Without meaning to, your eyes drop to the bulge in his pants, noticing just how big it is. Holy shit, it’s him.

Instantly, your face turns stoic, and you look straight ahead. König keeps talking, and it's almost like you’re ignoring him now. Confused, König simply pats your shoulder and walks away. He assumes that he’s simply scary to someone new like you.

This continues for days. If you see him in the hallway, you drop your gaze instantly or turn the other way. When he speaks to you, you almost freeze up. He figured that maybe he accidentally offended you and you are holding it against him; you wouldn’t be the first.

But today, today he caught you. As you both work out in the gym, he catches your eyes lingering on his crotch and you bite your lower lip before looking away. He recalls the video of his that was ‘leaked’ around base and assumes maybe you’ve put the pieces together.

You sit on a bench watching König. His cock soft and still so big resting in his tight basketball shorts. His tall muscular body makes your mind think about how easily he could lift you and bounce you on his cock like a living flesh light. The way you’d let him disrespect you. As you feel yourself get worked up, you stand and walk to the women’s locker room.

König turns and watches as you hurry away when you haven’t really worked out much. He waits a few seconds before following you. As he enters, he closes the door gently, realizing the locker looks and sounds empty, especially because he can hear the faint sounds of your moans. Bold of you to do this in public.

Slowly he walks through the aisles until he sees you. Phone out and in the corner with one hand down the front of your black leggings. The look on your face is adorable as your fingers swirl on your clit.

“What are you watching there?” König’s smooth Austrian accent echoes in the empty locker room, causing you to jump.

You pull your hand out of your pants and nearly drop your phone. “What are you doing here?”

König approaches you, smirking under his mask. “I asked what you were watching.” He says again. His powerful aura makes you crumble.

“I- just a video.”

“Hm.” He steps closer to you, both arms crossed behind his back. “A viral video, perhaps?”

You can feel your face grow hot as he confirms that he knows what you were watching. In your mind you try to come up with different reasons to not come across as a pervert, but before you can even speak König reaches out. His massive hand wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Do you like what you see in that video?”

“Yes.” You admit bashfully.

König’s hand slips down into your leggings and under your panties. You gaze up at him with wide eyes full of surprise and excitement. His thick finger circles over your clit, pulling a pathetic mewl from your lips as you gaze into his blue eyes.

“I know you’ve probably been dreaming about me touching you.”

“Yes…” The admission falls from your lips as if you’re under some sort of spell.

König slips his hand down further, his eyes still locked on yours as he slips his middle finger into your cunt. You would be such a tight fit for his cock. The look of pleasure that consumes you is adorable. He can see how desperate you are for more.

Just as you thought, one finger stretches your cunt so perfectly. His finger slowly slips in and out of you as you both gaze at each other. His blue eyes like a deep ocean luring you in. You want nothing more than to cum on his finger when he suddenly pulls his hand back.

König brings his middle finger to his mouth, tasting you. His eyes roaming over your body. “Meet me in my office tonight.” With that, he turns and leaves you a mess in the locker room. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you realize that the Colonel just booty called you.

Part 2

[lustfulslxt]

hi hi! "local" anon here, and i just had a rlly good idea that ik you will deliver perfectly.

matt "accidently" sends reader a d pick and she's all flustered but just doesn't say anything, until like the next day when they all like go out to dinner and everyone's in their own conversation. she just brings it up like, "so what was that pic you sent last night?" and he knows EXACTLY what she's talking about, but is all like "huh? what?"

but then, later that night, she ends up sending a risky pic of her own and then he just texts her saying to like 'come over immediately' or he's coming over to her house and then yk what!!

again, i love your writing and i know you will NOT disappoint with this!! Love you ! 😘

Take The Risk - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : spicy pics and smuttt

a/n : finally!! am i right?? pls look the other way if this is shit, like actually fr.. lmaoooo

—

“This is actually impossible. I’m gonna die of old age before I finish this thing.” I groan to myself, letting my head fall forward onto the table.

It’s been weeks of me staring at all of these pieces, all the exact same, aside from the shape. I’m determined to complete it. I lift my head up, an irregular piece slowly falling from my forehead.

“Who came up with this shit? Why are they so against me?” I ask no one in particular, seeing as I’m completely alone.

I’m convinced whoever created this was just trying to spite me. I can never back of out a challenge, they had to have known that. It’s been hours since I first sat down to work on it today, I am bored out of my mind, but I still can’t put the pieces down. Just as I’m about to toss my head back and cry from frustration, I realize I only have five pieces left. I jump forward, laying them all out in front of me, studying their pattern and the way they could all fit together. It takes maybe another ten minutes before I finally get it.

The last asymmetrical piece, snaps into place, completing the array of silver configuration. Twenty two days, six hundred fifty four pieces later. There she sits, in all her glory. Silver (Krypt), the hardest jigsaw puzzle to solve. This puzzle has no pictures, instead, it simply consists of hundreds of silver pieces, with a circular center and surrounding pieces making the finished jigsaw a plain rectangle. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this thing.

“Never back down, never what?!” I exclaim, jumping up from my seated position, only now realizing how bad my posture is from the ache in my back. I reach my hand around, holding my back as I groan, “Fuck.”

Straightening up, I grab my phone and immediately snap a picture of the completed puzzle. I just have to show Matt, he’s going to be thrilled. I send the photo to him on snapchat, then head to my kitchen. I grab a bottle of water and a bag of chips to snack on, then go upstairs to relax in my bedroom. Once I put my show on the TV, I notice a notification from Matt.

Matty B

NO WAY YOU FINISHED IT

Me

I DID

Matty B

only took you a month lmao

Me

BYE

it was hard asf 👹

Matty B

me too

Me

UM EXCUSE ME

Matty B

whattt

myb

Me

🌚 you can’t just say that then b like ‘mY bAd’

Matty B

i didn’t mean it

Me

oh

Matty B

congrats on finishing the puzzle tho

now i don’t have to listen to you complaining about the creator being against you

Me

blocked.

Matty B

LMFAO

bro. i was joke

Me

awesome to hear bro

I roll away from my phone, grabbing my chips to eat while I watch TV. An hour goes by, before I make my way to the bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth, then strip into my pajamas to finally go to sleep. Walking back into my room, I grab my phone to check one last time. As I plug my charger into it, I notice a snapchat from Matt. Upon opening it, my jaw drops.

There, on my screen, is a picture of a dick. Matt’s dick; fully erect, veins dancing alongside it, the tip pink with dribbles of precum. His hand sits at the base, unintentionally giving me a visual comparison of the size, and boy, it’s something. I can’t help but lick my lips at the sight, before snapping out of it and realizing my best friend just sent me a picture of his cock.

I’m at a loss for words. I can’t even think properly, far from being able to articulate a response. So, I just lock my phone and lay down. Yet, every time I close my eyes, I see his dick staring back at me, begging to be touched. I can feel the arousal building in me, my walls now clenching around nothing. Tossing and turning, attempting to ignore the growing desire, I deeply sigh. It’s going to be a long night.

-

I look at my phone screen, observing myself in my front camera. I’m currently about to walk into the restaurant where I’m having dinner with Matt, Nick, Chris, Nate, and Madi. I haven’t addressed the picture Matt sent me yesterday, and he hasn’t brought it up either, but it’s still lingering in my mind.

Putting my phone away, I lock my car and strut towards the entrance of the restaurant. Upon entering, a hostess greets me and directs to the table where my friends reside.

“Y/N!” Nate cheers, causing the rest of them to look over at me, smiles appearing on all of their faces.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m a little late.” I apologize, scooting in next to Matt.

“You’re all good, I ordered your drink already.” Matt informs me, “They should be coming around shortly.”

I smile, “Thanks, Matty.”

Within five minutes, we all receive our drinks and order our food. While waiting on our meals, we resume light conversation. However, I cannot stop thinking about the picture Matt sent me. Every time I look at him, I feel my heart beat faster and my breath gets caught in my throat. Are we just going to forget about it? Is that what he expects? I can’t just forget.

As the other four indulge in their own conversations, I notice Matt is silent, so I use this as my chance to confront him about it.

“Matt?” I call out, loud enough for him to hear me, yet quiet enough so the others don’t.

His directs his attention to me, softly humming in response as his eyebrows raise, expectantly.

“Um, about yesterday..” I trail off, attempting to read his body language.

I see him slightly tense up, clearing his throat as he looks at me, feigning confusion, “What?”

I give him a pointed look, “That picture you sent last night.”

He looks around as if trying to rack his brain, his eyebrows furrowing as he shrugs, “What are you talking about?”

I sigh, coming to a realization that I’m going to get nowhere with this. He knows what I’m talking about. I know he knows, I can see it all over him. Two can play at that game.

I clearly my throat and shake my head, “Actually nothing, forget about it.”

For the rest of the evening, we don’t speak on that topic again. We all just enjoy our food and the company of each other.

After dinner, I arrive home and immediately head to the bathroom for a shower. The entire night, my mind has been stuck on Matthew, wishing we talked about it, longing for more. We’ve never been anything other than friends, but he lit something in me, a fire that I can’t seem to put out. Should I call him over it? Should I do what he did to me?

After getting dressed in nothing but a black lingerie set, I sit in front of my bedroom mirror. I do look good, but should I really do this? Just take a picture and send it? I give myself another once over, before deciding to turn around and lean forward, snapping a quick photo.

I don’t know how much time has passed as I sit there, staring at my screen. My fingers hover over the picture, unsure of what to say, or if I should say anything at all. Taking a deep breath, I full send, then quickly put my phone down, suddenly ridden with more anxiety as I anticipate his response.

Hopefully I’m not reading more into this situation than what it is. Surely Matt is just playing hard to get. If he didn’t mean to send the picture, he would’ve just said that, right? I try to convince myself that he’s just being a tease, but the more I think about it, the more the pit in my stomach grows. After what feels like forever, I reach for my phone and my immediately face falls.

Opened 12 minutes ago.

Before I can even think a single thought, knocks on my front door sound throughout the silent atmosphere. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I grab my black silk robe and slip it on while walking towards the door. Peeking through the peephole, I see Matt standing there, looking antsy. I freeze, my hand stuck on the doorknob, unable to complete the motion of turning it. I toss my head back, taking a deep breath, before pulling the door open. His eyes light up once he sees me, his gaze flickering over my figure before he makes his way inside.

Within seconds, his lips are on mine, needy and desperate. Taking a few seconds to get over the initial shock, my lips move against his, my hands looping around his neck as his hands pull me in closer by my waist. Without removing his lips from mine, he kicks the door shut and walks me backwards, towards my couch.

As soon as my legs hit the side, he pulls back and asks, “Is this okay?”

I eagerly nod, “More than okay.”

A small grin pulls to his lips before they’re back on mine, kissing me with so much hunger. His hands grope at every one of my curves, squeezing and kneading my skin. His hands suddenly grab my robe, pulling it down my arms and letting it fall behind me, before he pulls away and takes in my appearance once again. He licks his lips and tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, and I can see the bulge stiffening in his pants.

“Fuck, you’re so fine.” He groans, pulling me back into him.

His hands forcefully grab my face and he slams his lips onto mine once again, pulling our bodies flush together. My hands tread through his hair, tugging as he turns my head to the side and moves his mouth to work down my jaw to my neck. His breath is hot against my skin, his tongue licking and his teeth biting. I can feel my arousal pool in between my legs, and I have to squeeze them together to relieve the tension. His hands travel down to my ass, tightly squeezing and massaging it, only making me more wet as I let out a soft moan.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine, “What do you want, baby?”

I lick my lips, letting out a breath, “You. I want you, Matt.”

Instantly, he pulls his shirt off and comes back to me, pressing his lips on mine again. I reach behind my back, unhooking my bra and letting it fall down my arms and onto the floor. His hands immediately make their way to my boobs, and I’m melting in his palms. He grips them tenderly yet firm, pulling more moans from me. He leans forward and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking on it as he pinches the opposite one.

The desire in me grows stronger with every touch he graces me with. He knows what he’s doing, and I’m weak in the knees because of it. Kissing me with so much passion and lust, his fingers slip into the waistband of my bottoms, pulling them down with ease, only breaking the kiss to fully remove them. My hands tug at his pants, wanting him to take those off as well, which he does, along with his boxers. We’re left standing, completely naked, and hungry for one another.

He places a couple of soft kisses against my lips, before quickly spinning me around and bending me over the side of the couch. His hands travel down my back, applying just the right amount of pressure, causing me to clench in anticipation. His fingers dig into the skin of my ass, jiggling it, and gripping it with enough strength to surely leave bruises. One of his hands breaks away from me, only to come right back with extreme speed and force. I yelp, jerking forward at the feeling of his hand colliding with my bare skin, a moan soon following as he rubs the place he smacked.

“Just wanna make you feel good, baby.” He whispers against my ear, his fingers trailing between my legs, running over my core.

I let out a whimper, pushing back against his hand for more, but his other hand places a firm hold on my back, keeping me in place. His fingers run through my folds, becoming slick with my wetness, causing him to let out a groan. His fingertips rub my clit in slow and soft circles, adding more pressure and speed with every second, leaving me quivering with moans.

“Mm, such a good girl.” He praises, sinking two fingers into my entrance, ripping a loud moan from my mouth.

“Just wanna be a good girl for you.” I find myself saying in between the whimpers of pleasure.

His pace increases, his fingers pumping in and out of me while his other hand runs up and down my back. I could feel the orgasm building so quickly, begging for release. His hand moves from my back, and starts tracing circles onto my clit once more, his fingers inside me going even faster. My legs start shaking and I’m now putting all my weight onto the couch, way too weak to stand on my own.

“So wet.” Matt mumbles in delight at the sound of his fingers in my juices, “Bet you taste so good.”

“F-fuck, feels so good.” I moan, shuddering as he increases his speed even more. “Gon-gonna cum.”

“Let go, baby.”

His fast movements and the sound of his raspy voice fuel my orgasm, my climax falling upon me quickly. I clench around his fingers, letting myself go and cum all over his hands. He continues finger fucking me, letting me ride out my high. He removes his hands from me and I look back in time to see him sucking all of my juices off of his fingers. The sight alone had me clenching again, eager for more.

“I knew it.” He moans against his fingers, “Taste like I could eat you forever.”

I stand back up on shaky legs, turning to face him and pulling him into a deep kiss, our tongues intertwining and exploring each other’s mouth. His hand comes up to my throat, gently squeezing it, pulling me closer, before pulling us apart altogether.

“We’re not done yet, my sweet girl.” He smirks against my lips, turning me back around and laying me over the couch once again.

He wraps his hand around his dick, stroking it a few times, then runs it through my folds, causing me to shake from the sensitivity. Without a word, he places one hand on my lower back and slowly slides himself in my entrance.

A high pitched moan falls from my lips as he groans, tossing his head back, “Fuck. Been wanting this forever, baby. Feel better than I’ve ever imagined.”

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, sliding backwards to take all of him in me. He moans loudly, tightly gripping my hips. He holds me in place as he starts thrusting, digging deeper into me with every pump. His strokes get faster and harder, our skin slapping together as I become a moaning mess. My whole body shakes with every movement of his, my face buried into the sofa, muffling my sounds as he fucks me. My legs tremble as he hits exactly where I need him, and I instantly begin clenching around him.

His hand wraps around my hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugs my head back, “I wanna hear your pretty moans, baby. You like the way I fuck you?”

“Mmm, yes. I love it-” I sound out, breathless from the pleasure. “You fuck me s-so good.”

His thrusts quicken and his grip on my hip tightens. The knot in my stomach continues growing, proving my statement to be true. I’ve never been fucked like this, and I can’t help but think about how I’m so glad I sent him that picture.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good wrapped around my cock, taking me so well. My good girl.” He moans, his hips sputtering.

The pressure in my stomach becomes too much and it’s hard holding it in, my hands gripping the cushions beneath me. He leans forward, his hands intertwining with mine as his lips trail open mouth kisses up and down my back. I can’t help the moans that keep pouring from my mouth, feeling nothing but pure bliss.

“I can feel you clenching around me.” He whispers in my ear, “Cum on my cock, so I can fill you up, pretty girl.”

With that, I let go. My entire body shakes as pornographic moans fall from my lips, my pussy clenching around him so tightly. His strokes become erratic and his moans and groans are louder than before. He quickens his pace as he chases his high, instantly filling me up with a loud raspy moan emitting from his mouth. He continues thrusting into me, pushing his cum deeper. He leans back, standing up straight as we both catch our breaths. His hands find my back once again, softly massaging it. He pulls out, my legs twitching from the stimulation. His hands move down to my ass, gently squeezing it, before he helps me up.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, turning me to face him, keeping his hands around my waist for support.

“Like we should’ve done that a long time ago.” I grin, still breathless.

“We can always make up for lost time.” He grins, placing his forehead on mine.

I nod as we both laugh before he places a few kisses on my cheeks and lips. His hand grabs mine and he pulls me even more into him, capturing my lips in a deep but loving kiss.

“Let’s take a shower, so I can clean you up.” He suggests.

My face heats up and I nod once more, following him upstairs as he never lets my hand go.

Our friendship just changed entirely and I can’t wait for what’s in store for us, because I know it’s going to be euphoric.

—

a/n : tadaaa!!! ugh i hope this wasn’t shit, it’s been forever :((( lmk what you think! requests are closed bc i have wayyy too many that i need to catch up on, but i’m hoping i can get back into it! love uu <333

[ghost-proofbaby]

who could stay? (you could stay.) (eddie munson x reader)

summary: you're convinced that being loved comes with a cost. he finds a way to prove you wrong. (wc: 9.7k+)

order up! i've got one ash's special for anonymous. ♡

Keep going, keep going, keep going. 

Agree to run that errand for someone. Offer a shoulder to cry on for that person. Fix that problem for this friend. Keep going, keep offering, keep becoming indispensable. 

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact age you’d figured out the formula. You can never know for sure if the day was sunny or if it were rainy, if it were a calm December morning or a buzzing July night, but those details aren’t very important. The only important detail is that you had finally cracked the code at some point – you had finally figured out the solution to feeling unlovable. And that was that, truthfully, there wasn’t a solution. Once you were destined to feel this way, to feel so sour at your core, there is no easy way to rid yourself of that rotten pit. It would always be there – always churning, always burning, always yearning. Yearning to be loved, yearning to feel those waves of warmth cascading over your brain and down your spine, the ones others had always described to you but you’d just never… experienced. Never became familiar with.

It felt like everyone was playing an over-elaborate prank on you. They’d all conspired against you, invented a false feeling in which someone claims to feel loved, only to sit back and watch as you fumbled to find it. They’d laughed as you dug through a graveyard of relationships, caked your fingernails with dirt as you sobbed and would continue to claw deeper, trying to find just one set of bones that might hold that warmth for you. 

The only solution to that detrimental feeling of being unlovable, was to feel needed. 

You needed to feel so necessary, so essential, to everyone around you at all times. It never mattered how much of you it took. You’d give away every piece of yourself a million times over just to feel wanted at some capacity, even if that capacity were one you’d forced upon the other person. You didn’t care if you’d built the glass cages of theirs – you just cared that they kept you around to wipe away any smudges that appeared. 

Being wanted wasn’t quite the same as being loved. And if you thought about that for too long or too often, you might just break irrevocably. 

“I just don’t understand him,” Nancy sighs from the head of your bed, reclining against a wall of pillows you’d lined your headboard with. Two of which were body pillows. Long tubes of fluff to try and fill lonely spaces, you suppose, “Why didn’t he just tell me he didn’t want to go to the same college? Why… Why do I feel like I am forcing him to be with me?” 

Because you are. Just like I force you all to need me. 

“I don’t know, Nance.” 

That bland, bitter, half-thought out answer lingers on your tongue, almost burns your throat with the whisper of say more, say something useful, say something comforting. It’s the whisper of those four words not being enough. It’s the whisper of that threat that those four words could be the beginning of the end, the thing that makes Nancy realize she doesn’t need you. 

After all, what use is a friend that can’t give good advice, or be supportive during relationship rants? 

You open your mouth to add on something sweeter, something to coat the conversation like honey and smooth out the lines forming on Nancy’s forehead, but she beats you to it, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” 

Yes. “It’s fine,” at least that wasn’t a lie – you’d dug this specific grave, had rooted down tooth and nail only to find another empty coffin of a friendship curtained with want instead of love. You’d all but asked for this, “What he did really was shitty. It’s not fair to you.” 

The words are almost robotic, telling Nancy Wheeler what she wants to hear rather than what she needs to hear.  You don’t always do that, you do make a point of investing in the truth from time to time to truly secure your position as someone who is genuinely needed in her life, but the headache nagging at your temples tells you it’s not worth the fight tonight. You’re tired, you’re agitated, and you really just want to get Nancy to the point of contentment in her rambling so that you can send her on her way. 

God, you’re an awful friend. 

It turns you quiet, a ricocheting thought that bruises your inner skull the rest of the time Nancy sits on your bed. The guilt eats you alive for that moment of irritation the rest of the night. Even after Nancy goes home, even after you’ve brushed your teeth and you’ve tucked yourself into bed. The guilt gnaws on the edges of that emptiness inside of you, that ever-present black hole that already existed, and says this is why you cannot be loved. 

Maybe the pity party for feeling like a bad friend is what makes you a bad friend. 

And maybe if you were a better friend, you would be loved instead of wanted for once. 

It’s all part of a cycle, never-ending and treacherous. It’s always been this way. You make promises to your friends and rip yourself to shreds before remolding yourself into whatever they need; giving rides to the younger kids within your circle to the pool all summer which evolved into taking turns with Steve as to who would pick them all up after their D&D club ran late every Friday night, always lending a listening ear to Nancy once Johnathan moved away and she’d had to witness her relationship and her love vanishing in real time, always being the one person who will listen to Robin ramble for hours about her sudden interests. None of it was born of ill-intent, but when you’d go home lonesome at the end of the night, you could see it all for what it was. 

You were trying to fill a void. A hollow rot, a black hole. And it was only working half the time. 

Half the time, until he came along. 

And make no mistake, his arrival was as bloody as anyone who had previously entered your life. For a while there, you believed his headstone was at the end of the line already, sanctioned away in this graveyard of the ability to be loved. He came crashing into your life on a random Friday night, and you had sworn you could already see the end as it began, but you had been wrong. 

“So, you’re the infamous babysitter.” 

His voice caught you off guard. You’d been sitting in your car with your windows down, enjoying the reprieve of a cooling autumn evening as you waited for the boys to finish up with their D&D club. With your head buried in the latest sci-fi novel that Dustin had recommended and would no doubt be grilling you on once he got in the car, you hadn’t even heard the club exit the school. 

“Nope,” you fought a smile as you glanced up from the pages to see an older guy standing there, closer to yours and Steve’s age than the kids. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this was the famous Eddie all the boys would ramble on about for hours on end, “Harrington’s the babysitter. I’m just the taxi driver.” 

There was something particularly pretty in the way he threw his head back with laughter at your words. Curls that messily fell just beyond his shoulders, full lips disappearing as his teeth peeked through and shined beneath the parking lot’s lamp posts. His denim vest looked purposefully distressed with a mirage of patches and pins, and he was wearing a leather jacket beneath it, even if it wasn’t quite cold enough for it yet outside. He was cute – and watching him laugh because of you sparked something irreversible inside of you. 

“C’mon now,” he sighed as his cackles quieted, “Give yourself more credit than that. At least call yourself something fancy, like ‘chauffeur’.” 

“Ah, but ‘taxi driver’ insinuates that I charge them,” you don’t miss a beat, and your quick wit has him chuckling again. 

You caught sight of his eyes, corners creased with joy – brown. They were deep, russet, tantalizing brown. Almost indiscernible from his pupil in the dark. 

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You took his hand that he shoved through your open window with ease, and felt an immediate shiver run down your spine. Not quite from the cold, but not quite warm. You saw the first flash of his grave, and you knew you’d be digging your greedy hands into it soon enough. 

As you gave him your name in return, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone. 

You had been half right that night. You wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone, you would be seeking out the impossible from Eddie – but so would he. 

It quickly became apparent that Eddie was a pest. Someone who weaseled his way into the lives of others, who made his presence felt and never forgotten. 

You’d started with the same slow dance as you did with every new person, a hesitant dipping of your toes into their waters, unsure if your presence in their life would only cause more trouble than you’re worth, when you quickly discovered that nothing could ever be hesitant or slow with Eddie Munson. He’s the one constantly reaching out to you. Driving the kids home now takes double the time it used to, long conversations being had with him that has the kids dragging you away, practically begging to just be taken home. The day he’d asked for your number, you couldn’t tell which one of you burned brighter red. And the moment he had your number in his clutches? Forget about it. You never heard the end of Eddie Munson, and you never really wanted to. 

Unlike your friends you already had and loved deeply, Eddie was observant. 

It’s within the first month of knowing you that he had picked up on your insecurities. Maybe he hadn’t directly seen that gaping hole in your chest yet, but he noticed your habit of running yourself dry to see others thrive. 

The need to be needed. He picked up on it quickly. 

“What about Sunday?” Eddie’s voice traveled over the line as you laid on your stomach, stretched out across your bed for a few moments of rest before you had to get up and take the cookies you’d baked for Steve and Robin into Family Video, just like you had promised, “I’m free then if I finish all my fuckin’ homework on Saturday night.”

Surprisingly, that phone call with Eddie hadn’t been something expected or planned. It had been impulsive; in a rare moment of peace, you found yourself craving to hear his voice. Somehow, the two of you had ended up trying to figure out a free day to properly hang out. Eddie wanted to go to Benny’s for milkshakes, and you wouldn’t turn down the free fries he also promised.

“I can’t,” you paused just to hear his predictably dramatic sigh, grinning as you continued to explain, “I’m taking Max to the skatepark that day.”

“And it’s going to take all day?” 

“It could!”

“There’s absolutely no way.”

“You clearly haven’t seen that girl skate.” 

The conversation continued, light-hearted enough with plentiful jokes made. Something about talking with Eddie made your heart lighter, the usual unbearable and contradictory weight of emptiness no longer on your mind as you listened to him ramble about something that had happened in one of his classes – a teacher tried to embarrass him when he caught Eddie doodling for a D&D campaign by asking him a question, not expecting him to know the answer. Eddie had, of course, leaving the teacher baffled with a smirk.

 It’s all about my charm, sweetheart, he responded when you asked how he hadn’t earned a detention from that. 

Only towards the end of the call, when the conversation finally lulled and the two of you found yourselves settled into a comfortable silence, did Eddie finally circle back to the beginning of your conversation. 

“You know,” he started, “When I first met you, I never took you to be someone so…”

“Amazing? Wonderful? Funny?” you jokingly attempted to finish his sentence.

“Busy.” 

Oh. You hadn’t expected that one. 

“Busy?” you repeated back to him, “I’m not that busy.” 

Your mind immediately started racing with thoughts of what he had meant. Was he feeling neglected? Maybe you should have canceled on Max on Sunday, agreed to Benny’s with him instead. No, you couldn’t bear Max’s disappointment. Maybe you could tell Max you had a time constraint, even though you knew she hated those when it came to her skating days. Was there any other plans you could abandon? Anyone else you could bear to let down for the sake of not leaving Eddie high and dry? No, no – all your other weekend plans involved going to the movies with Robin, helping Steve look into colleges finally, taking the boys to the Starcourt mall to shop for supplies to make figurines for their newest campaign. The room was suddenly getting smaller, your chest constricting, your head spinning. You couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing any of those people, no, but what about Eddie? Maybe he was right in feeling neglected, maybe you deserved whatever guilt was to come from whatever his next words would be. He was your friend, you were supposed to make time for h-

“Sweetheart,” he scoffed over the line, and you swore you heart stopped right then and there, “You’re the highest thing in demand since Cabbage Patch Kids last Christmas – and trust me, I should know how in demand those fuckers were. I worked seasonally at the mall, remember?” 

Your breath caught. He was feeling neglected. You weakly began your apology as tears were already filling your eyes, that panic turning over itself in your gut, “I’m-”

“And it’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong,” It’s clear your voice had been too soft, too weak, for him to hear you, “Just means I’ve gotta fight harder to be worth your time, am I right?” 

You had to clear your throat, but it did nothing to subsidize that anxiety that rattled your bones. It’s blatantly evident as your voice shook with a second attempt at an apology, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean- I can… I’ll… Just tell me when for Benny’s. I can make it work, I swear-”

“Woah, woah, woah.” 

He had to have heard the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. The shake of your breath as you’d stuttered over your words, grasping for a solution. 

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” his voice was soothing and soft, the most gentle it had been the entire night. You pinched your eyes shut and just tried to imagine those stupid, big doe eyes, those ungodly messy curls (you’d started to tease him about if he ever even brushed or combed them). The panic remained, but Eddie’s voice started to give it a run for its money, “I was just playing around. You know that, right?” he paused to give you room to answer, but your throat was still tightly squeezed by overwhelming emotion, overwhelming fear of having scorned Eddie, “You could only have enough time in your schedule to see me once a year, and I’d still be your friend. We could only have these random phone calls, even if they were never longer than a minute, and you’d still be worth it. You know that, right?” Another pause, another wave of silence from your end, “Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.” 

Each word made the panic settle. You weren’t sure how he did it. You weren’t sure how mortified you should be that he had only been in your life for a month at most, and had just overheard you at your most vulnerable. 

All you were sure of was that you believed him. 

“Okay,” you croaked, finally feeling that ring of fear loosen, vocal chords finally functioning once more. 

“Okay,” Eddie repeated back in that same gentle, soothing, soft tone. 

You weren’t disappointing him. You weren’t making him feel neglected. He still found use for you, he still wanted you around – he still needed your friendship. That had to be enough.  

It was quiet over the line for a few moments. 

It has to be enough, you reminded yourself. 

“Say,” you finally said, voice back to normal strength and the tears having dried themselves up for the most part. Your heart had almost returned to normal rhythm, “How does Benny’s sound tonight?”

“Tonight?” he chimed back, sounding as excited as a little kid the morning of a cherished holiday, something like Christmas. 

A shiver ran down your spine. It’s not from the cold, and you tell yourself it’s not quite warmth – it can’t be warmth. 

“Tonight,” you confirmed, “With a detour by Family Video, if you don’t mind. I’ve got a special delivery of cookies to fulfill.” 

“What kind?”

“Excuse me?” 

You were grinning - God, you were a pathetic fool, grinning and clutching onto that phone like a lifeline. Like if you let go of it, you’d lose his voice, and if you lost his voice, that would be the end of the world. 

“What kind of cookies?”

“Chocolate chip.”

He hummed, not answering right away as if he were deliberating this information. When he finally spoke again, another shiver wrapped around your spine, spinning down, down down. Waves of what you almost believed were warmth. “Okay. I suppose I can be your taxi driver, for a price.”

“What’s your price?” 

“One cookie.”

“Deal.”

It had to be enough, because you were still clutching that telephone tightly to your cheek, long after the phone call ended with Eddie’s promise of being at your house soon enough. It had to be enough, because after that night, it became clear; the world would not end with the loss of just Eddie’s voice from your life, but the loss of Eddie, period. It was the first night of many in which you played a very, very dangerous game. 

Even with Nancy gone, you felt restless. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer in all that self-pity, still replaying the night and all you could have done differently. 

Had she caught on with how out of it you had been? Had she seen through your act and immediately assumed the worst – assumed you weren’t worth keeping around? 

The thoughts might be an overreaction. 

You were definitely overreacting. 

You didn’t really care that you were overreacting, though, because you really couldn’t control it. It was just another dark path you couldn’t stop your mind from traveling down. It was endless, and it was lonesome, and… and it was just normal. What should be devolving into a panic attack can only settle like an emptiness deep within your chest; you’ve been staring at the blank wall of your living room for so long without blinking, your eyes have gone dry. 

A pattern. That’s what the therapist said. You had a pattern for overthinking these interactions, for projecting feelings onto others that didn’t exist. You think all your friends hate you, you think that a stranger found your smile to be more of a grimace, you think your mom hasn’t called in months because she recognizes you as a failure finally. But none of it is actually what those people think. It’s like a mirror – you look into the eyes of others, and you see all your own insecurities reflected back. 

She’d asked you to work on it. To take a step back and just breathe, just remind yourself of that, whenever this happens. You’d decide whether you’d mention this minor slip up later. For now, you were going to wallow. You were going to spiral with just you, this damn blank wall, and maybe even the bottle of wine in the fridge. 

Yes, your mind was made up, and you force yourself to stand from the couch and wander into the kitchen, eyes still dry and chest still caving in on itself as you open the fridge. 

That’s as far as you get. Your fridge is wide open, the bright luminescent light flooding your kitchen floor in time with the trickling chill that sneaks up on your warm cheeks and already numb toes, when you spot it. 

A box of takeout. It’s old enough now you could throw it out, you had known the moment he’d taken the last of his meal to-go that he wouldn’t finish it. Teased him about it, even. But he was stubborn and you weren’t capable of turning down the opportunity to let another piece of him, another flash of evidence of his place in your life, occupy this apartment. So there it sat, a half-eaten burger he hadn’t revisited. 

But he had revisited the apartment – revisited you. He’d been here every night this week, and you’d practically had to shove him out on the street to get him to leave this morning to get to work on time. 

The edges of that emptiness that weighs down your insides blur, already lightening microscopically as you slam shut the fridge and forgo the wine completely to grab the phone instead.

“You don’t have to always take care of everyone, you know,” he murmured as he joined you in the kitchen to retrieve popcorn for the gang, everyone gathered in the living room for a movie night. 

“Pardon?” you asked, hardly glancing over your shoulder as you punched in the designated time for the microwave to turn the kernels into an easy, mouth-watering snack of butter and crunch. 

“You always take care of everyone. You don’t have to.”

His words rang clearer that time, loud enough to have stopped you in your tracks. You paused mid-reach, the cabinet for the Harrington’s bowls wide open and shelves nearly too tall for you. 

“I-” you weren’t sure exactly what to say, “What do you mean?” 

His brows scrunched, eyes having narrowed in the slightest in your direction, “Please don’t play dumb right now.” 

“I’m not playing dumb. I’m trying to get popcorn for our movie night,” you waved your hand towards the shelves lined with bowls for emphasis on your point, “That’s not really taking care of everyone – it was just being polite. Steve’s hosting, it’s the least I can do.” 

“The least you can do? The least you can do is actually just sit with friends, enjoy the movie,” the crease between his brow deepened, eyeing you with an unfamiliar concern. You shifted beneath the weight of his gaze. 

You don’t know what to say. Except, “It’s not that serious.” 

He scoffed, and you nearly flinched from it. Fear threatened to bubble up – he’s upset, he’s getting irritated at you. He’s getting tired of you. 

You waited for him to say something more as the buzz of the microwave filled the tense space, but he remained silent. Brooding. 

“What?” your voice shook, your entire being torn between succumbing to all that fear and anxiety in upsetting him further and that voice in the back of your mind that urged you to push him, to hear what he really thought. “I know you have something more to say.” 

“In the six months I’ve known you, you haven’t taken a single break for yourself.” 

He met your push, stood his ground and didn’t let it put any distance between you two. It felt like a goddamn revelation, right there in the Harrington kitchen. 

“I take plenty of breaks, Eddie,” you tried to laugh off, “I do spend time away from you all, hard as that may be to belie-”

“Hardly,” he cut you off as sharply as the first resonating pop that echoed from the microwave. 

“What’s your point? I just like being around you guys. Like I said, it’s not that serious.”

This was the part where the distance would happen. You kept pushing, took the inch he’d given you to bite back and ran with it. Normally, you avoided conflict with any of your friends vehemently. Always afraid, always assuming the relationships to be so fragile and so delicate. You would take such care in never giving them a reason to hate you that you’d never taken to a battleground before.

But there had been a look in Eddie’s eyes that night. A shine that, breaking through all the worry for you, whispered, fight with me. Stand your ground with me. I’ll still call you tomorrow, no matter what words we exchange tonight. 

A safety net had formed that you’d never even noticed. That delicacy wasn’t needed here. You could pick up the sword, there in that kitchen, and it wouldn’t turn Eddie to smoke and shadows. 

“My point is…” he paused, he swallowed hard, he exhibited the delicacy that was usually expected from you, “You can like being around us. But you should put yourself first. At least once. At least on movie night.” 

“How is me making popcorn not putting myself first?” you got the question out, you took a deep breath, ready to go on some sort of defensive tirade for your habit you were well aware of.

He beat you to it, “Every day last week, you only got three hours of sleep, at most, before your shifts. You gave up sleep to hang out with us all way too late, refused to throw in the towel and go home before anyone else.”

“I could have napped-” 

“You didn’t nap,” he stressed, taking a step closer to you. The popping of the snack turning in the microwave was erratic, mere seconds left on the timer. Static noise to the conversation at hand, “I know you didn’t fucking nap after your shifts because you were immediately running errands for everyone else, or hanging out again. You offered to give Robin a ride to work every single day, and her shifts start… what, an hour after yours ended? And then you had to give her rides home, right? But in those hours she was at work, you were helping Dustin with an essay for school – that little fucker told me all about it. You were awake when Johnathan called you and we were all stoned off our asses, went and got us food we didn’t need but still wanted. We didn’t even expect you to pick up, you know? I told them, I swore to them, you wouldn’t pick up. You had a morning shift. You were scheduled literal hours from when we called you. But you picked up. You fucking picked up, and you went and got the fucking food for us fucking idiots.”

Your brain completely malfunctioned. You couldn’t comprehend how he was saying all of these things that should be good things, things that proved you were needed and you were reliable, but with such venom in his tone. 

Anger had sparked within you as you pictured how giddy Dustin had been over the B he’d earned on his essay, that sincere appreciation on Robin’s face every time she left your car last week, the dopey grin that Argyle had worn when you’d arrived with their food order in your pajamas. All previously things to fuel you, filling that aching hole inside of you, now being tarnished because he was concerned.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you seethed at him, “Would you prefer I hadn’t been awake? Would you prefer I let Dustin just… get a fucking F on that essay? Or Robin walks to work?” 

“Yes!” 

You were both shocked at the sudden volume in your voices. The quickness in his reply. The quiver in your lip. 

“Yes,” he breathed out, quieter this time, “I would prefer those things if it meant you were taking care of yourself. The word ‘no’ should be in your vocabulary, sweetheart. I… The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.”

But you all needing me might.

“Just… just…” your breaths came out in huffs, eyes downcast and unwilling to meet Eddie’s stare. A final push, and it came out more fragile than you’d ever intended, “Just mind your business, Eddie.” 

He opened his mouth to say more, but the microwave started to go off, signaling what you saw as the end of the conversation – the fight. You’d raised your voice at him, you’d swung that sword in his direction, and he hadn’t vanished. His friendship – he – wasn’t as breakable as you’d thought. 

You spun on your heel, you took the popcorn out and divided it into bowls for the group, busying your hands in any way possible. All the while, he never left the kitchen. He stood just feet away from you and let you do what needed to be done, and only stopped you as you turned to exit the kitchen with the snacks acquired. 

His hand caught onto your elbow, “You have bags.” 

“Excuse me?”

“You have bags under your eyes,” he elaborated. He no longer looked frustrated, but defeated, a morose distress pinching the edges of his feature.

“Jesus,” you were now scoffing, adjusting your grip on those bowls, “You really know how to compliment a girl, don’t you?”

“They’ve been there for months,” his grip refused to loosen, thumb trailing over the crease in your arm, “Please don’t run yourself into the ground.” 

You gave him a cold shoulder as you left him behind to rejoin your friends, unable to shake his consternation. It was so genuine, it terrified you. It made your insides churn, it turned your anxious attachment to dust. 

It made a shiver of warmth travel down your spine. 

The empty space beside you on the couch only remained for seconds after you’d passed around the bowls, keeping one for yourself. He was back there, back at your side, as if the two of you hadn’t just exited a battle ground. As if a stand-off hadn’t just occurred, as if it all hadn’t ended in a draw. 

He looked at you with those eyes.

Fight with me. Stand your ground with me. Don’t walk away from me. I will still call tomorrow.

He did more than call that night. As the movie started, he didn’t so much as flinch when your head fell to his shoulder in exhaustion. He only tucked an arm around your shoulders, only shifted you to be more comfortable as you used him as a personal pillow. He glared at everyone in warning not to grill you on the plot of the movie when you’d awoke mildly disappointed, he’d let you sleep on the drive home. He never once brought the fight back up. 

And he still called the next day. 

After your shift, he was the first voice you heard after dragging your feet into your apartment. A brief apology was exchanged before it was back to business as usual between you two. And somewhere between his rambles, you fell asleep with your phone balanced half-haphazardly between your cheek and shoulder. You could only dream of the grin he wore when he’d hear your soft snores over the line, quieting down immediately to let you rest. He never hung up – he was content to sit on a hushed line if only for the assuredness that you were finally resting. 

The warmth no longer traveled down your spine, instead curling up timidly near that hole inside of you. You let it. 

“Munson residence!”

That warmth that had found home in your chest still remains to this day, rousing at Eddie’s voice over the line. It’s nearly enough to make you cry – the relief that floods you just by the sound of him and his endless chipper. His optimism that always seems to exist, even in contrast with those harsh edges he tries to portray. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, as if you’re not the only one in your apartment, “Can you… Are you free?” 

Even after a year, you still sometimes felt guilt, asking so much of him. Asking so much, and giving so little in return. 

But you weren’t the one who set that standard. Eddie had. Ferociously, fiercely, stubbornly. The insistence that you simply being was enough for him. 

“For you, sweetness?” he chuckles lowly. He recognizes your voice immediately; you never have to say it’s you calling. You could have shrugged it off as Caller ID, but you knew the Munson’s phone didn’t have that. No, he recognized you by voice only. He’d once joked that only you would one day be able to rouse him from the dead, based on the ‘sweet melody alone’. Recognition in death – you had managed to burrow your way so deeply into his life, you’d earned recognition in death. “Always. What’s up?” 

You could have just kept him on the phone. Had one of your infamous conversations about everything and nothing. Sat on the cold tiles of your kitchen and smiled like a child as you listened to him rant. But the cold chill of your lonesome apartment was becoming suffocating, and you remembered that take out in the fridge and the way one of his socks had ended up in your laundry last week. You remembered how you started keeping his favorite brand of beer in your fridge and how one of your pillows started to permanently smell like his aftershave.

He had a toothbrush in your bathroom. He had a key to your apartment. He had a space, here, in this lonesome apartment. And all you had to do was beckon to him, and he would come to fill it. Always. 

“Can you come over?” 

You don’t even have to explain yourself. He complies readily, whispers out a soft yes in the voice you’d also recognize even in death, and promises to be there within ten minutes. 

He makes it within eight. 

And you’re still leaning on your kitchen counter, your head still swimming dangerously with all the different ways you’d let down Nancy. Once upon a time, you might have worried about inviting him over, worried that your anxieties and your short-comings might bleed into your relationship with him. In the beginning, it had been simple enough. You kept him at an arm’s length away the moment you realized you couldn’t make yourself needed to him, not out of selfishness but out of fear. Fear, because if he didn’t need you, why would he stick around? 

Because without need, if you did the wrong thing, there was no necessary thread tying them to you. Because without need, there was no chance for the day that you might find love in your grave robbings, and you couldn’t handle the thought of someone like Eddie Munson deciding you weren’t worth his time. 

It hadn’t occurred to you for a very long time that maybe, possibly, you’d been going around the concept of love with a very wrong mindset. 

Your safe place. That’s what the back of the van had become over these sticky summer nights – your safest refuge. 

It was always the same scene; Eddie on his back beside you, lazily nursing a joint, while you sat up reading passages of the latest book you two had embarked on together. Sometimes it was poetry, sometimes it was fantasy, and sometimes, it was just a reread. That night, it was a reread. The Hobbit. 

“‘I don’t see that this will help us much,’ said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. ‘I remember the mountain well-’” you recited off of the page, when Eddie suddenly sat up abruptly and snatched the book from you. 

“No, no, no!” he wagged his finger at you after he discarded his joint into the ashtray you’d made him start keeping in the fan, “Sweetheart, you’re doing the voices all wrong.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, reaching to take the book back, “Not all of us have a Dungeon Master voice to whip out, Munson. Give it back.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Do I need to say please? I’ll say please.” 

It was best like this. Just the two of you, away from everyone else. Some nights, the two of you hadn’t even needed a book to bond over. You’d just gaze at stars, or indulge in whatever weed he’d brought along with him. He never pressured you, though – if you shook your head at his offer of the joint, that was that. He seemed to apply that to most aspects of your friendship this last year. 

You never had to prove anything to him. He saw your worth as if it were glaringly obvious, as if it were as simple of a concept as breathing. No extra effort needed from your end. 

Just by being, you had managed to become something important to him. He needed you, if only because you were you. 

“The puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work on me,” he snorted, shifting so that his shoulder pressed against your own. A warmth spreads from the point of contact. “Let the master show you how it’s done.” 

You tried to not let it show, but your grin was radiant. He was the master at those ridiculous voices, at theatrics and at bringing the story to life. You were transported from the shore of Lover’s Lake, in the back of that stuffy yet comforting van, to meadows of soft grass and hobbit holes of comfort. To a place where all the threats were mythical and all the expectations of you were released. 

You’d spent the week helping Steve finish up his college plans. His parents had tried to pressure him into picking his top three universities, but the moment he had confided in you that he might prefer a community college to begin, you’d held his hand as you guided him through the process. A rewarding process, have no doubt, but it had left you numb and reeling. Sharing someone else’s stress, shouldering their burdens – it had been a bit much.

You needed this. You needed Eddie’s ridiculous voices and the sharp press of his shoulder against your temple. 

“Falling asleep on me already?” he teased when he’d noticed how quiet you had gone. 

“Never,” you lied through a yawn that quickly exposed you. 

“Liar,” he huffed. You didn’t even need to glance up to confirm the smile you knew he wore. “We can head back home, if you need. I know it’s getting late-”

“No,” you quickly sat up, effectively making yourself dizzy, “No, I- It’s fine. I’m awake. I swear.”

“It’s okay that you were falling asleep,” he was quick to reach out, to tug you back down to his side, wrapping his arm around you to press you even closer than before, “I just don’t want to keep Cinderella out past Midnight.” 

“It’s barely ten.” 

“Nothing gets past you, Sherlock,” he scowled as you pressed your grin against his t-shirt clad shoulder, “I’m serious, though. Do I need to take you home?”

“No, Eddie. I’m good.”

“Swear it? Swear you don’t have an early shift, or some… some obligation?” 

“No shifts, no obligations.” 

“And if I just kidnap you for the weekend? Am I going to have an angry mob at my doorstep, demanding your service?” 

You smiled wider at the thought. The idea of him hiding you away, letting you live in this reprieve for the entire weekend. It was a nice thought, “I certainly wouldn’t complain.” 

And so the two of you sat there like that for an hour more. Eddie coming up with ridiculous tones for the various characters, you slipping in and out of consciousness as his warmth stayed wrapped around him. You don’t even notice when the warmth he’d planted in you finally covers up that hole inside of you, not even missing the absence of that emptiness until Eddie went quiet.

In the silence, you noticed it. 

The gash you’d grown accustomed to, the hole that had become an extra limb for you. Vanished. Gone. Disappeared without a trace.

It was a sudden and terrifying realization. Everything in you urged you to jump up, to scramble around you to find the darkness again, like a comfort blanket you couldn’t stand to lose. You went against the instinct, though, and rose slowly from Eddie’s hold. 

In lieu of scrambling, you peered at Eddie curiously. “Hey, Eds. Can I ask you something?” 

He nodded sleepily, almost as drowsy as you. You’re shocked when he shifts and instead of pulling you back to him, he opted to lay his head in your lap. 

That hole was still gone. The weight of his head on your thighs, the feeling of his breath on your bare thigh. For a moment, you can’t breathe. 

You’re warm. Not uncomfortably so, but encapsulated with an internal warmth. Like a fever spreading, the ice in your spine that you had lived with for years had begun to thaw. 

“Why do you keep me around?” you whispered, still sitting stiffly, staring in awe down at the way he just nuzzled his face into your lap.

With his eyes still closed, face smooth from any worry from the question, he mumbled, “What do you mean?” 

You only hesitated due to the thought crossing your mind; what if you bringing this up reminds him? 

You thought back to the night in Harrington’s kitchen. The push and the pull, the bloody battle and the way he still called.

He was not as delicate as you took him for. 

“I- What do you get out of this?” you couldn’t figure out how to phrase it correctly. You knew what you got out of this, but what does he get? 

“Get out of what?” 

“Get out of keeping me around.”

His eyes finally opened, twisting in your lap so that he could stare up at you. “You say that as if you’re forcing me to be your friend.” 

I could be, that nagging voice in your mind whispered. You could very well be forcing him, and just be blinded because you were enjoying the summer of warmth that he carried with him too much to let him go. 

“You never let me do anything for you,” you sighed, fingers finding themselves tangled in his roots against better judgment. But you needed to touch him, to ground yourself, as you admitted this hard truth, “You do shit for me all the time. You drive all the way out to this lake just because I complain about everything being too much. You’ve started playing chauffeur for the kids to give me a break. Harrington said you even offered to look at college brochures with him. And…. And I’m not stupid, Eds,” your voice shook as you looked down at him, a sudden feeling of undeserving striking you in your chest, “You do so much for me lately. And you don’t ask for anything in return – you don’t let me do anything in return. Why?”

His smile twisted with a hint of sadness, and brown eyes met your gaze without so much as flinching, “Sweetheart, why do you think you have to repay me for that stuff?”

“I-”

“No, hear me out,” he reached up, taking your hand out of his hair and lacing his fingers with yours, slowly dragging it down to rest on his sternum, “I chose to do that stuff. And, yeah, maybe I was trying to take some of that shit off your plate. But you didn’t ask me to. I chose to. I wanted to do those things, do nice things for you, because you won’t let anyone else.” 

You bit back a scoff, “I let people do nice things for me-”

“You really don’t,” his hold on your hand tightened, “You really, really don’t. You constantly…. You just, you take care of everyone else, but you act afraid to let someone take care of you. People are allowed to take care of you, too, y’know? You should let them. They love you – they want to take care of you, just like you take care of them.” 

They love you. 

The air drained from your lungs in a slow, silent sigh. You waited a few minutes, but the oxygen never replenished as you tried to grasp his words. 

They love you. 

Why would they love me? 

“Why wouldn’t they love you, sweetheart?” Eddie looked more concerned now, suddenly prepared to sit up and remove his head for your lap. But his hand still held yours tightly, still clung to you, “You know they love you, right? God, you gotta know that. We all love you.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d spoken the bitter thought out loud until he looked at you, utterly heartbroken, in complete disbelief. “I…”

No. I don’t know that. What have I done to deserve their love? 

“They need me, sure,” you started, narrowing your eyes at the breaks in the waves of Lover’s Lake, “I mean, I just try to make myself useful to them. It’s the least I can do when I… when they…” you struggled to get the words out. You saw that hole again, like a light at the end of the tunnel, but so far from the relief most mean by that metaphor. Something peeking around the corner, ready to devour you all over again. So you plunged, you prepared yourself for it to spring to life and take you whole as you nearly whimpered, “When they put up with me. It’s the least I can do when they put up with me.” 

“No one puts up with you,” Eddie’s voice cracked. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “Least of all me.” 

The deadliest of blows. He cracked your hardened surface with that, shook the foundations of every belief you’d held for eternity. 

“Most of all you,” you corrected without thinking, “God, I- Eddie, seriously. What reason do you have for keeping me around? I don’t know how the fuck you put up with m-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you’d never heard him beg so painfully before then, “Please. Don’t… You want to know my reason?” you nodded numbly, finally looking to find him with wet eyes and lips pressed into a fine line, “Because you’re you. I… Fuck, I love you. I keep you around because you’re you. You’re good for me. Whether you believe it or not. You’re good for me just by being you, and there’s nothing you have to do to accomplish that,” you started to look away before he grabbed your cheeks, turning you to face him as he emphasized each word, “You don’t have to earn love. That’s not what love is. Got it?” 

You looked into his eyes, and saw all the soft declarations of love echoed back to you, even from the very start. 

‘Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.’

‘The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.’

The entire time you’d been so worried about taking care of everyone else, he’d been worried about taking care of you. Endless late night phone calls, careful check-ins when he saw the exhaustion take the frontlines, sparse fights about putting yourself first. The only thing he ever wanted from you was for you to take care of yourself. 

While you were busy being there for everyone else, he was busy being there for you. 

He never once made you dig to the bottom of his grave to find the warmth. He’d handed it over on a silver platter. 

So how could you look him in his at that moment, and tell him that you didn’t ‘get it’? That you’d never been sure if what you were seeking from your friends was really love? That, really, you’d given up on being loved a long time ago, assuming it was asking too much? 

How do you look him in his eyes in that moment and tell him you had long since declared yourself unlovable? 

He didn’t make you say it. Only kept your cheeks pressed between his palms, as he leaned forward, forehead meeting yours and whispering words for only you, “I love you, no strings attached. You’re my… friend. I love you. Okay?”  

No one had ever fought so valiantly to get the point across. Not just that night at the lake, but in the entirety of his friendship with you. 

The hole slinked back behind the corner. The darkness decided it could wait another day. And in its place, warm brown eyes filled the void. Whether he even realized it or not. 

You nearly believed him. Nearly. But you bit down hard on that belief, throwing it out of sight, and instead of echoing back the ‘okay’ you assumed he was seeking out, all you did was sob out another, “Why?” 

When you collapsed into him, he held you. Your sobs remained dry, your confusion palpable as you clung to him and tried to let that belief envelope you like his arms had. 

I love you. 

How could someone love you? 

He didn’t press it the way you thought he would. He didn’t scold you for continuing to question him and he didn’t lash out at your disbelief. 

He just held you. Letting your face press into his neck as his fingers ran up and down your spine, giving it a moment before he started talking again. 

“Your humor,” he hummed after a couple moments of silence, heavy breathing eventually evening out. 

“What?”

“The way you take care of others,” he continued on like he hadn’t heard you, “That spark you get in your eyes when you tell someone about something good. A favorite book, movie, story from your day – whatever it is. The way you give the best hugs – and you don’t give me them nearly often enough. The way you snore, and the way you definitely deny snoring.” 

You opened your mouth, about to lift your head and argue with him, but he just placed an encouraging palm on the back of your head to keep you close to him. 

“The way your favorite color changes with the seasons. The way you only like artificial cherry flavoring, not the real stuff. The way you look at night when we’re driving and you’re just screaming your favorite lyrics. The way you look at me to see if a joke lands. The way you fuss about my wrinkled clothes, even when you also don’t care about the wrinkles in your own shirts. The way you take your coffee. The way you always offer to paint one of my nails to match yours. The way you treat your recipe for chocolate chip cookies like some top secret, government trade. But we both know it’s just some recipe from a cookbook you thrifted when you were ten. The way you get excited over the small things, like the cows we pass by on the way out here. They're always there, and you always point them out. The way you just… are.” 

He didn’t have to say it. He was answering your question. 

He was listing his whys. 

“You don’t have to earn it,” he didn’t say the word, not this time. You felt it, “It just… it’s there. It’s there and it’s not going anywhere. I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.” 

Loved. For the first time ever, it felt like a possibility; to be loved. 

Eddie always knocks on your front door a certain way – a pattern he rarely strays from. But you can always tell. He’s the only fool who would find humor in knocking out such an annoying compilation of hits on the wooden panels until you finally unlatch the lock and open it to find him standing in your threshold. 

His hair is frizzy and in a low ponytail, wearing a baggy band shirt and plaid pajama pants. He greets you with such a wide smile, your chest aches. 

“Hey there, sweetness.” 

You don’t say a word, just drag him inside before you wrap your arms around his waist. Ever since that night, and his admittance of enjoying your hugs, you made a conscious effort to hug him more often. 

“Miss me?” he chuckles, and you feel the vibrations against your cheek as you softly pinch his side. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him only laugh harder once you pull away. 

“Not at all,” you snark back as you make sure the door is securely shut and properly locked.

“Not even a little bit?”

“Nope.” 

He smacks a fist to his chest as if you had stabbed him with your words, “Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.” 

“Get over it,” you tease. Your head has finally stopped swimming, your chest no longer tight with the fear of not being enough. Nancy is long forgotten as you say, “Have you eaten dinner?” 

“Depends,” he hums as he toes off his boots, “If you’re offering to buy me some, then no, I definitely did not eat spaghetti with Wayne right before you called.” 

You throw your head back laughing as he’s already making a beeline for your kitchen, digging out that damned takeout menu and reaching for the phone, already so sure of your order.

Knowing your order at restaurants. Without having to ask. Apparently, that was part of the whole ‘being loved’ gig. 

Adjusting has taken months. Since that night in Eddie’s van, he’d kept his word. Not a day went by without him finding a way to remind you, whether it be by direct words or small actions, that he loved you. You both kept it under that friendly guise. He loved you in that familiar way, the way the others supposedly loved you. A way you could manage to recognize some days. 

Other days were still rough. Days like today were still rough. 

The takeout is ordered and Eddie sets up camp on your couch, rambling about something that had happened during one of the DnD nights he still hosted with the kids. Something about a dumb decision Mike did that cost most of the group their character’s lives. You have a hard time following along, and he’s quick to pick up on it. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” he murmurs as you lean into the back couch cushion, smooshing your cheek as you watched him animatedly speak.

“Hm?”

“Bad day?” 

He never judged you for the rough days. He never judged you for the days you still couldn’t find the love, even after he worked so virtuously to show it to you. He may never understand it, that hollow ache that resided in your darkest corners and whispered that none of it was real, but it never deterred him.

He loved you on good days, and he especially loved you on bad days. 

You consider lying to him, but you can’t. Not when he looks at you so earnestly, “Yeah. It… yeah.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks you, shuffling to be more comfortable where he sits as he motions for you to lay down. You do so immediately, head finding a home against his thigh and his fingers stroking over your cheek before they toy with the ends of your hair. 

All you can do is shake your head. You didn’t want to talk about that fear of failing Nancy as a friend, especially when you know that wasn’t her take away from it. It felt silly now; all that overthinking, when you know now if you questioned her on it, all she would have seen from the day was a friend lending a caring ear. You know because you had asked her about it once, if she found your listening habits too callous, upon Eddie’s insistence. 

She hadn’t. In fact, all she could do was thank you, had insisted that she was just grateful someone would listen to her ramblings. And you understood that, left it at that. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, voice so quiet you nearly miss it. His fingers continue to play across your shoulders now, barely weighted against bare skin, “That’s fine.” 

He didn’t mind if you didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t mind if you never spoke another word, if all you needed was him here. You just needed him close by and to sit with you, to make it all a little less much. 

Nothing. He needed absolutely nothing from you, asked nothing of you. Because you didn’t have to earn this. All you had to do was simply be, and he would provide this. 

Love. What an odd concept, to have found warmth in a grave you never even got the chance to dig your shovel into. 

“Hey, Eddie?” his fingers pause at your croaking voice. You smile at his stillness, at the way he hums carefully in response, still trying to offer the silence you quietly begged for, “I love you.” 

There’s more to unpack there. More than just familial love, more than just two friends that love each other without conditions. But tonight is not the night, and you both see that it is enough. There will be other nights to dig your claws in and to dissect what those three little words mean between you two. There will be other nights to consider how your other friends don’t have a permanent spare toothbrush on your bathroom counter or a space for their takeout in your fridge. But not tonight.

For tonight, this was enough. The quiet, and the warmth, the being was enough. 

“I love you,” he emphasizes the last word, leaning down and his lips grazing your temple. 

You notice the way he leaves off the too. He’d love you, even if you didn’t love him. You’d love him, even if he didn’t love you. Unconditional, no strings attached. A warmth you do not have to fight to earn. A rarity you never encountered before, and may never encounter again, but you have for tonight and for as long as he chooses to stick around. 

Your shovel sits abandoned in a shed in the distance. Your fingernails are clean of the dirt. The graveyard, it seems, would go another night without its robber. 

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

There's a 100% Chance I'm Gonna Marry You | Spencer Reid

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The team doesn’t even know of her existence but when Spencer can’t get a hold of her, he gets worried. Now he has no other choice than to tell his coworker about her.

Warnings: worry, guns, kicking down doors, mention of Maeve & Haley's death, fluff!

Author's note: I kinda love this like a lot???

Words: 3.4K

Spencer was happy. Considering the things he had gone through in the past ten years, no one had expected him to ever come back to his incredibly happy and constantly smiley self. No one had ever seen him so giggly and teasing his colleagues every single day. 

If you asked his coworkers, all of them would say something different. JJ, Alex and Penelope all swore he was simply in love. Hotch and Rossi knew what was happening – years of profiling in their back pocket that would catch onto the tiniest signs and being his boss had its perks. Morgan believed he was just getting laid, finally. 

If you asked Spencer, he’d simply shrug and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

The truth was that he was in love, just like his female coworkers had guessed. 

He had met her a few years earlier at a bookstore. The two of them had reached for the exact same book at the exact same time, causing their hands to bump. Apologies floated through the air, followed by their awkward giggles when their eyes locked. Spencer offered to buy her the book that day and she insisted they read it together over a cup of coffee. Of course he didn’t decline, and neither did he alert her that he read as fast as lightning. For her, he’d read at her pace. 

Ever since that day, the two of them had been hanging out non-stop at bookstores, coffee shops, and eventually at each other’s apartment. It took them a good six months before finally sharing a searing kiss that sealed their relationship. 

That kiss was about a little over a year ago and now, the two of them were living together. Albeit, she kept her old address, with the help of Hotch who had called in favor, just to throw anyone that snooped into their personal affairs off. 

Without any of his colleagues knowing. 

At first, he didn’t want their relentless teasing, but then he was reminded of how the BAU’s family and partners were put in constant danger over being even slightly connected to them. Spencer almost wanted to break up with her over it, just to keep her safe. And they did, for a good week, until Spencer realized he couldn’t live without her. 

She was fine with being his little secret. Though sometimes, she wanted to get to know his colleagues after all the stories she heard from him. The gruesome details about those stories, however, she’d rather forget immediately. 

That was why the two of them kept in touch as much as they could during his cases. Quick phone calls, just to check in with one another, constant text messages, … There was never a moment where the two of them didn’t hear from one another. 

When one day she didn’t answer him, he grew immediately worried. 

That day had started early for Spencer. He'd been woken up at five am by a call from JJ, telling him to come into work as soon as he could, but not to bring a go-bag. Her eyes had fluttered open ever so slightly, but he shushed her and kissed her forehead. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered and tried to pull away, but her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him back. 

The girl whined and though her eyes were closed, her lips were pursed. “Gimme kiss first.” 

Chuckling, Spencer leaned down and kissed her on the lips sweetly. “I love you.”

“Mmh, love you too. Come back to me in one piece, Doctor Reid.” 

She tugged at the duvet to cozy up and doze off again. For a couple seconds, he watched her with a tender smile plastered on his face. He hated leaving the girl he loved behind. He’d much rather cuddle up to her underneath the covers. 

“I promise,” he whispered and kissed her head again before finally turning on his heel and walking out the apartment. It was always with a heavy heart that he left the apartment, but his mind was quickly occupied by the case at hand. 

It wasn’t until 10am when he received a text from her. The initials “L.G.” flashing onto his screen. It was her contact name that she had added. It stood for Lover Girl, she had told him, while putting his contact name as P.B.; Pretty Boy. 

L.G.: I actually slept until now. Got any statistics on that, Doctor? 

A smile took over his entire face. She often asked him for any statistics about whatever she was thinking about. It was her favorite thing to do, listening to him ramble off facts and statistics, which was why she’d asked for it. Even if it was merely through text.

P.B.: 55% of people oversleep at least once a week and 75% of those have missed work. A little over 30% said they oversleep once a week and 24% do it multiple times a week.

He waited a minute, she usually answered within a couple minutes and he and Morgan were waiting for their colleagues to compile their theories anyway. When her message popped onto his screen, he couldn’t help but smile even wider. 

L.G.: You never disappoint. – Thank GOD for bank holidays. ;-) 

Spencer chuckled before starting to type up a response. 

P.B.: What are you up to today? 

Before her reply came in, their colleagues filed into the briefing room where he and Morgan resided. He quickly chucked his phone in his pocket and focused on what his coworkers were saying. It took a couple of minutes as they put their heads together and piece together some of the evidence they had found. 

“Morgan, Reid, I’m gonna need you to go to the apartment building and ask around if anyone has seen Peter in the hallways that night. Alex and Rossi, you’re on the new crime scene. JJ and I will head to the M.E.”

Everyone nodded at their assignments before they got up and filed out of the briefing room. As Spencer followed Morgan out to the SUV, he grabbed his phone to check her message she had sent. 

L.G.: Just going to run some errands. Do you need anything from the grocery store? 

P.B.: Can you get me some of those rice crispy treats, please, angel? 

He put his phone back in his pocket before turning to his coworker next to him, who was sneaking glances at him whilst driving. “I do still wonder who you’re always texting with that dopey smile on your face.” 

Spencer coughed. “My-my mom.” 

“Are you ever gonna tell me the truth?” Derek asked, his thick brows raised. There was no answer at the top of that genius brain of his, so he simply grimaced and nodded his head. 

The two of them focused back on the case and went door to door at the apartment building, asking everyone if they had seen who they were looking for. None of them were much help and when they were done interviewing the inhabitants, one hour had passed. On the way back to the car, Spencer checked his phone again, but no messages from his Lover Girl this time. 

He frowned and sent her another text. 

P.B.: Back from the store yet, L.G.? Did you remember my rice crispy treats? 

It wasn’t usual for her to take this long to reply, especially when she had a day off. Her phone’s sound was always on and she had it closeby at every moment. Worry settled on his chest. He couldn’t act on the anxieties swirling around in his mind as he couldn’t just rush home mid-case. 

When there was no answer another hour later, Spencer knew something was up. He tried to call her when he and Morgan were waiting on the rest of the team to regroup, but it went straight to voicemail. 

“Hiya! You just missed me, but leave a message and I’ll call you back when I can.” 

The sound of her voice calmed him down a little bit, but the fact that it was her voicemail only made his worry grow. Two steps forward and one step back, it felt like. 

“You okay, Reid?” Morgan asked when he noticed his coworker in distress. 

Spencer internally groaned at the fact he couldn’t tell Morgan what was stressing him out because he had decided to keep his girlfriend a secret. Especially at a moment like this when there could be something wrong with her. For all he knew, she could be hurt. The exact reason for keeping her a secret in the first place.

“Uhm, yeah,” he lied. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

It was crystal clear that Morgan didn’t believe his coworker but with the height of the case nearing, he decided not to press any further. It was only hours later, when they closed the case, and Spencer was clearly spiraling that he decided to ask further. 

“Reid, seriously, what’s going on?” he asked when Spencer hung up his phone for a fifth time, not getting the answer he wanted. 

Spencer sighed and chucked his phone in his pocket, his hands trembling as he did so. “I-I need to go home. Something’s wrong.” 

“With your mom?” Morgan asked as he watched Spencer rush out the BAU. The resident genius didn’t even bother to answer, which left Morgan with no other choice than to simply follow behind him. “Hey, Reid!” he called when he caught up to Spencer near the SUV. With furrowed brows and trembling hands trying to unlock the car, the younger man looked up. “Let me drive.” 

And with that said, Derek and Spencer got into the car and drove off to Spencer’s apartment. Derek wasn’t even sure what he was in for, but he trusted Spencer enough to follow him blindly. The two of them entered Spencer’s apartment building and rushed up the stairs to apartment 23.

A scream echoed through the door and reverberated in Spencer’s chest, causing his heart to plummet to his stomach. Derek and Spencer both reached for their guns, ready to shoot whoever’s hurting this screaming person. Another scream came from inside and Derek quickly and swiftly kicked down the apartment door. 

Another scream, but this time because of the sudden disruption. Once Spencer was certain there was no immediate danger, he holstered his weapon, as did Derek. His eyes scanned over his girlfriend. She had her hair scraped back into a messy bun, an old CalTech shirt of his that reached just beneath her bum and underneath it the tiniest of shorts that were barely visible. 

Once her heart had calmed down from the near-heart attack, she tugged the earphones out of her ears. “Fucking hell, Spence, way to give a girl a heart attack.” She threw a cushion from the couch at him. 

“Me?! You weren’t answering any of my calls or texts! I thought you were kidnapped,” he argued before stalking up to her and taking her into his arms into a much-needed hug. 

She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I’m sorry, I was too wrapped up in that new Taylor Swift song and singing along.”

“Ah, that was the screaming about,” Morgan muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle.  

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Spencer whispered and kissed her head before remembering there was someone else in the room. Coughing, he looked up at his coworker and only slightly let go of her, keeping an arm around her shoulders. 

“So, you’re ready to tell me the truth now?” Derek asked, a smirk on his face. 

Spencer smiled down at the girl. “Morgan, this is y/n, my… girlfriend.” 

The girl reached out a hand for him to shake and Derek did, but not without eyeing her up and keeping that teasing demeanor. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Spence has told me so much about you.” 

“Wish I could say the same about you, but unfortunately, Boy Wonder never mentioned you once,” he told her, chuckling. “How did you keep this a secret from all of us?” 

Spencer shrugged. “I thought it would be better to keep our relationship a secret from everyone to keep her safe. We all know what happened to Haley, I don’t–” He inhaled sharply, unable to get the words across his lips. Noticing his sudden tensed shoulders, she interlaced her fingers with the ones on the hand on her shoulder, squeezing them reassuringly. “She kept her old address, just so no one could trace her back to me. Only Hotch and Rossi know.” 

“I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances,” she told him, gesturing to her appearance. 

“Shut up, you look cute,” Spencer reassured her and kissed her temple again. 

The smile never left Derek’s face as he looked at the sight in front of him. “I’m happy for you, Reid, you know that, right?” he asked happily, a hint of pride in his tone that caused her insides to grow mushy. 

From Spencer’s stories, she could tell the team cared about him a lot, but hearing it in real life and seeing it in Derek’s eyes and face meant the absolute world to her. She knew he was safe whenever he was with them, she knew she didn’t have to worry too much when he was out at work. They would protect him no matter what. 

Sensing Derek wanted to talk to Spencer alone, she excused herself and removed herself to the bedroom where she looked for something more appropriate to change into. All while keeping an ear on the conversation between the two coworkers. 

“I know,” she heard Spencer mumble. “I’m just scared, you know? She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and I don’t want that to be taken away from me… again…” Heat crept to her cheeks as she listened to her boyfriend talk about her. 

“I get that,” Derek said. “She’s important to you – she’s family. Family of yours is family of ours, Reid. You don’t want anything to happen to her, and neither do we. We’d do anything in our power to protect her.” 

“Like we did Haley and Maeve?” 

She knew all about Maeve and Haley. Spencer had explained everything to her. It scared her to death that something like that could happen to the family of the BAU agents as much as it scared her something terrible could happen to Spencer. 

“You know that was out of our control, Reid,” said Morgan. 

A short silence fell and she knew Spencer inhaled deeply before continuing. “I know, but what if the same thing happens to her? I can’t lose her, Morgan. I wanna keep her safe, out of harm’s way.” 

“Don’t you think your best shot at keeping her safe is to have us informed about it? At least then, we can keep her safe and help you protect her,” he explained and she couldn’t help but agree with her. With her heart a little heavier and her outfit changed into jeans and a top with her hair down, she walked out into the living room. 

“He’s right though, baby,” she mumbled, capturing the boys’ attention. 

Spencer sighed, “Y/N.” He shook his head. 

“Don’t “y/n” me, Spencer. Your little family sounds amazing and I wanna be part of that, too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, placing her head against his chest. “I know you wanna protect me, but don’t you think we both got a better chance if we got them in our lives, too?” 

Another sigh heaved Spencer’s chest, causing her head to move along with it. “Okay, you’re probably right.” He kissed the top of her head before looking at Morgan again. “Text everyone to come over here for dinner.”

“We don’t have enough food for that many people, honey,” she gasped, almost in a panic. 

Spencer shrugged. “We’ll order Chinese.” 

Within half an hour, the entire team had arrived at Spencer’s, one by one getting acquainted with the one he had kept secret for so long. Neither one knew why they were invited to apartment 23 but when they did find out, their reactions melted y/n’s heart. 

First, it was Penelope. The chirpy, colorful blonde she had heard so much about. 

“What’s the emergency? Are you okay, Reid? I–” she stopped in her tracks when her eyes landed on the girl beside the resident genius. “Who–Wha–” she stumbled over her words, her brain short-circuiting. 

With a smile, she reached out her hand to shake Penelope’s. “Hi, I’m y/n.” 

“Reid’s girlfriend,” the brunette that had come up behind her moments after, deducted. 

Penelope’s eyes widened before taking the girl into her arms. “Oh, my God! I knew it! I knew our Boy Wonder was in love!” 

Giggles filled up the apartment. Spencer and y/n couldn’t help but lock eyes, happy this was the reaction from his coworkers to his news. “Happy to meet you, too, Penelope.” 

“Hi,” the brunette greeted when Penelope pulled away. “I’m Alex Blake.” 

One by one, the team filed in, greeting y/n as though she was part of the family. With Chinese food scattered around the dining room table, the whole family sat, ate and asked the couple all the questions they needed answers to. 

“When did you first meet?” The blonde y/n has come to be known as JJ. 

Y/N glanced over to Spencer and took a hold of his hand, entwining their fingers in his lap. “We met at a bookstore, we were reaching for the same book–”

“Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver,” Spencer interrupted. 

“That one,” she concurred with a giggle. “He insisted on buying it for me and I insisted we read it together.” Her nose scrunched up while her lips pressed together, remembering how adorable Spencer was that day, and still was. 

“Damn, boy,” Derek commented. “Didn’t know you had game.” 

“What do you do?” Alex then questioned, moving on from their meet-cute. 

“I’m a primary school teacher,” she responded. “I try to mold and form these brilliant little minds to become something that somewhat resembles this genius’ mind.” She placed her free hand on Spencer’s head and lovingly squeezed. 

A collective bubble of laughter spread through the apartment, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. She loved being around Spencer’s friends. They were lovely and brought out the best in Spencer. While he always had his guard down when he was with her and showed her his soft side, his friends brought out a completely different side in him. A side she had seen before, but never with people other than her. 

For an entire night, the team asked the couple questions, told stories about Spencer even she didn’t know yet and she easily returned the favor. It turned out to be a lovely night that would be grafted into the couple’s minds for a long time. 

“I enjoyed spending time with your friends,” she told him when they were cuddled up in bed afterwards. 

As soon as they hit the mattress, their limbs entangled and her head ended up on his chest. While his hand trailed up and down her back, hers was drawing patterns on his chest. A position they had found themselves in almost every night. 

“Mmh,” he hummed. “They loved you.” 

She let out a giggle. “Of course they did.” 

A laugh rumbled Spencer’s chest, reverberating through her head. It was her favorite sound and feeling in the whole wide world. She lifted her head from his chest to properly look at him, finding him looking up at the ceiling. From this angle, she had a perfect view at his sharp jawline, his curls sticking out here and there, and his long lashes fluttering to keep himself awake. 

“Got any statistics, Doctor?” she then asked, putting her head back in place, right over his heart to hear it beat just for her. 

She could feel him turn his head to look at her. “About what?” he asked. 

“Anything,” she answered. 

He sighed. A content sigh, one where you could hear the smile in his breath. “There’s a hundred percent chance I’m gonna marry you,” he muttered and kissed the top of her head. 

A smile curved her lips upwards while her eyes slowly shut. Her body was completely relaxed, her heart fluttering in his presence. She could see their entire future flash before her eyes. Spencer getting down on one knee at the bookstore, her father walking her down the aisle while his friends and coworkers and his mom sat in the pews. She could see ten tiny toes and ten tiny fingers. 

She could see forever with him. 

“There’s a hundred percent chance I’m gonna say yes.” 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeeee @unnowhatthisistbhh

Criminal Minds Taglist: 

@boimlers-gonna-boimm @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess 

[lyneylover]

Yandere! Lyney royalty Au♡

Synopsis: lyney is a street magician that you seen 3 weeks before your birthday. After your dad sees you mesmerized by his magic show he decides to buy lyney and his siblings to be your personal magicians. Little did your dad know that this would be the biggest mistake he ever made.

Word count: 569

So picture this!

Originally lyney was just a street performer with his twin sister and sometimes his little brother as well.

But that all changed as soon as you came to one of his magic shows.

You were amazed by his tricks and enjoyed watching them. Genuinely having a good time watching his show.

It wasn't everyday that the princess of the l/n family actually seemed extremely impressed by magicians. Many have tried but failed since you were always able to tell what illusion they used.

But there was something about lyney and his sister lynette's magic that made you hypnotized.

By the time the show was officially over you seemed disappointed.

Noticing your disappointment your dad has the brilliant idea to buy the 3 magicians for your upcoming birthday as a surprise.

After that magic show everything seemed so boring but 3 weeks later you got the biggest surprise of your life.

The day of your 18th birthday arrived.

Like any other birthday you had there were lots of gifts.

But something was different this time. This time your dad presented you with something you'd never expect.

There stood the three magicians.

Standing right in front of you was lyney, lynette, and freminet.

In that moment you were frozen and bubbling with excitement. You quickly ran over to your dad hugging him and thanking.

But little did you know that lyney was smitten by you.

The second he saw you at his magic show he felt you stole his heart away. The twinkle in your eyes when he made something disappear and reappear or how he drew the exact same card that a person showed the crowd.

Usually lyney wouldn't let anyone buy him and his siblings so when your dad asked him he was going to say no but then realized that the same man he was going to decline was your father.

Lyney uses this as a way to get closer to you knowing that he's only a mere magician and you're a princess. So he automatically yes not wanting to leave his siblings he told the king that he would only go if he bought all three of them for $100 a piece.

When lyney saw you he felt giddy inside. He was mesmerized by your beautiful features your pretty eyes, your soft looking hair, your plump lips everything about you made him blush.

This didn't go unnoticed by Lynette and freminet though.

After a month of being your personal magician he finally tells his siblings about his feelings for you hoping that they would help him with the master plan he thought up.

When Lynette and freminet finally agree lyney is ecstatic.

A week later they put Lyney's plan in motion.

At dinner lynette slips something in everyone's drink that'll make them tired.

When everyone is finally asleep lyney sneaks into your room covering your mouth before waiting for freminet to appear.

When freminet gets there they all quietly bring you to the escape carriage they had prepared earlier.

They all quickly run back inside to trash your room and their rooms to make it look like a kidnapping. With the money they had gotten from the king they took you far across fontaine where he would never find you.

The next day the king was furious. He thought someone kidnapped his magicians and his precious only daughter.

The king looked for them for months but not a trace of them was ever found.

Lyney could finally be with the love of his life.

I hope you guys enjoyed this! Sorry I haven't been posting I've had writers block but I'm finally back on track! And I'm currently completing my first hotaru haganezuka request but I thought I would post my little brainrot for you guys<3 Also should i post a part two with yan! personal detective Heizou looking for reader?

[lizzy06]

Bokuto Koutarou x Reader Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Fukurodani Fic Rec Masterlist

An Accidental Heroine ✨by meldve(oneshot, humor, fluff, crush at first sight)Yukie and Akaashi’s plans to hype Bokuto during a big game never fail. Or at least end in this way.[COMPLETED]

Crawling Back To You ✨by @kiesbrainjuice (oneshot, fluff, humor)the volleyball captain finally realizes his feelings for you and confess in a…crawling way[COMPLETED]

Cock Block by @oreosmama (oneshot, crack, slight smut)Bokuto just wants to get some, but the universe is not always on his side.[COMPLETED]

 A Hairy Situation✨ by @oreosmama (Soulmate AU, oneshot, angst to fluff) Back home in America, YN was happy to dye her hair whatever color she pleased. But now that she’s transferred to Japan as a foreign exchange student, she realizes that she’s much closer to her soulmate than she used to be… hence why her hair looks like an explosion of black and gray. What an asshole.[COMPLETED]

when the sun loves the moon by sunmoonstarsrain (friends to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort)bokuto koutarou loves you. he can't help but tell the world. the downsides of dating a popular pro-athlete were not made known to you.[COMPLETED]

Swept up in the moment✨ by Teapots_and_Teacups Bokuto had asked you out and you'd said yes without thinking. So… now you're dating the captain of the volleyball team.[COMPLETED]

Inferior by MrsTanaka (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)Soulmate Au! In which the words your soulmate first says to you are tattooed on your wrist. You must hear the words spoken by your soulmate and they must be directed to you. [COMPLETED]

The Shoe Thief by aspiringauthorintraining (oneshot, fluff)You looked to Akaashi for help, but he only gave you a look of pity in return.[COMPLETED]

Azaleas and Periwinkles by @mimi-cee-hq (oneshot, fluff) Bokuto didn’t always like volleyball. He only started loving it in his third year of high school. So why was he playing volleyball in the first place? It started years ago at a flower shop with the cute tomboy girl from his neighborhood. [COMPLETED]

It's the assets ✨by PhysicalTurian(oneshot, smut)You accidentally sent a risky DM in Bokuto's instagram and delete it before he can see, but he definitely saw it. When you see him in the afternoon, he wants to talk about it, and you end up riding his thigh, which is only the beginning.[COMPLETED]

Lucid by madasahatter29(oneshot, fluff, tooth-rooting)Bokuto goes to the dentist to get his wisdom tooth removed. A.K.A. the wonders of anesthesia[COMPLETED]

honey thighs by twobirds (unrequited love, fluff, angst, first love, mutual pinning)Still on your knees, you watched Nekoma lose the second set in a row. It was hard to feel bad for your classmates when Bokuto bellowed your name, victorious smile crooked in place as he pointed a finger through the nylon net. “Wasn’t I amazing?!” All you could do was lift your camera to hide your smile.[COMPLETED]

Life's a Hoot ✨by ejqz (friends to lovers, idiots in love, slice of life, fluff, angst) After landing your dream job as an editor at a publishing company, you begin to realize all the missing and broken pieces you have neglected along the way. But when you and Akaashi attend a special exhibition match for a company project, you reunite with Bokuto Koutarou and everything swerves. The nostalgic, youthful high-school days are long gone, but good times still await you.[COMPLETED]

 If It Ain’t Broke✨ by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst to fluff) You broke up with Bokuto for a good reason. At least, what you thought was a good reason. But right now you can’t help but miss him terribly, and according to Akaashi, he’s feeling the exact same. But did you really break him like his friend said?[COMPLETED]

 Love Me Through the Phone by @oreosmama (oneshot, smut<18+>) After Bokuto leaves for an away game on Valentine’s Day weekend, you’re left to handle the day’s pleasures all on your own. There’s just one little problem–nothing comes close to what Bokuto could give you. Luckily, he offers a solution, and though it’s completely out of your wheelhouse, you find yourself desperate enough to give in.[COMPLETED]

Praiseworthy  by @oreosmama (oneshot, smut)After winning his volleyball game, Bokuto comes over wanting to celebrate. The both of you sure know how to throw a thrilling two-person party.[COMPLETED]

heart attack by kuroopaisen (oneshot, fluff)your hot roommate likes to walk around without his shirt on.[COMPLETED]

please don’t by @mitsuki-murakami (oneshot, humor, fluff)You’re never going to be the same after this.[COMPLETED]

One Track at a Time by @seokiloquy (oneshot, single parent! reader)bokuto babysits your daughter [COMPLETED]

[ao3-shenanigans]

Hi! Just a thing I wrote in honor of Comment Day. Maybe you might want to read/share it?

Every writer I have never known a writer is always happy to get positive feedback, but some readers believe if they leave kudos or a comment, they’re bothering the writer. Here’s a comparison that might explain why that isn’t the case.

Imagine that the fanfic is a play, and the author has worked really hard on the whole thing: costumes, scenery, the plot, characterization, everything. It’s opening night. The stage manager (AO3) gives the author the headcount (hit number) of the audience (the readers). The writer is now able to imagine 10 or 100 or 1000 people sitting in the audience, watching what they have created. While a big number is fantastic, most writers are thrilled anyone wants to see what they’ve made.

When the play is over, the writer comes out to take a bow.  One hundred people are in the audience.

Two people clap (left a kudos).

Everyone else gets up and walks out in silence.

Obviously, the writer is happy these two people clapped, but they’re also thinking, “Did… did the other 98 people hate it? Were those pity claps? Was it that bad?”

That’s what’s happening on AO3. A fantastic single-chapter fic will get over a thousand hits and wind up with maybe 5 to 10% of those readers leaving kudos. The other 90% could include people re-reading, and numbers get more complicated with multichapter fics since readers can leave kudos only once.

But essentially, a lot of readers see a fic as being more like a movie, where the audience just leaves at the end. It’s even harder for an “older” fic (“older” can sometimes be applied to fics posted only a month ago), where the “play” has been running a while, the author is still there doing everything, but now people decide since it’s not new, there’s no point in showing they liked it.

Maybe one in a hundred readers, sometimes fewer, leaves a written comment. This is like hearing someone in that theater cheering. If it’s a piece of feedback that’s more detailed than a keysmash or an “I like this,” that person is giving the author a standing ovation. And if someone recommends the fic somewhere, maybe saying so in a comment, it’s like getting a rave review on the cover of the New York Times!

All of these are happy things. Kudos, comments of any length, recs, all of them make an author’s day shiny and happy. They’re absolutely fantastic! No writer is bothered by anyone doing these things.

Maybe you’re still thinking, okay, I can see I’m not bothering the writer, but does just writing “I really enjoyed this fic” do anything?

Yes. Because there are the other, less happy responses. Some comments might be demands, making the comment less about thanking the writer and more turning it into a to do list for them. Some authors see their work has been bookmarked only to realize it has a note like “this is awful” or “TLDR” or “started okay but was stupid by the end.” The default for bookmarks is everyone can see them. Finally, anyone who has written fic for any length of time has dealt with flames. These aren’t constructive criticism; they’re flat out abuse, ranging from name calling to highly detailed insults that are the exact reverse of a long, happy comment. Authors look in their email, see someone has commented on their fic, and are thrilled, only to read the comment and be told they are worthless, stupid, untalented. Everyone gets these sometimes, and writers should ignore them, but most of us have sometimes cried over them. Picture that same theater full of silent people, with one or two people clapping, and suddenly someone stands up and starts booing and hurling rotten tomatoes on stage. Readers might not even know it’s happening since writers usually delete those comments. But they still sting.

Kudos and compliments are not annoying anyone. Flames, on the other hand, are awful. The difference is the polite reader who chooses to say nothing out of shyness backs away from doing something that will make the writer happy, while the rude reader actively goes out of their way to make the writer unhappy.

I’ve been in fandom quite a while. Interaction has dropped since the old days, and it’s even dropped off over time at AO3. I’m not sure why, unless it’s that readers regard hits as being like views on TikTok. Since TikTok’s algorithm chooses what will show up more often in people’s feeds based on views, that makes some sense there, but AO3 doesn’t do that. There is no popularity contest writers are winning through views. Unless you tell them, they may think you hated what they wrote and that the flames are the genuine overall reaction.

The moral? If you love something, or even like it, show the writer some appreciation. The second it takes to leave a kudos might make them feel happy the whole day.

Comments and Kudos are probably some of the best gifts to give your favorite artists and storytellers (they’re free and easy too!)

[crusty-chronicles]

Airheaded S/O Headcannons #11: Luffy (One Piece)

I feel like Luffy would thrive with an S/O who's just as, if not more, stupid than him.

And he genuinely cannot tell you're not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Combined, you and Luffy have one semi-functioning braincell

And 90 % of the time, Nami has it

"LUFFY FELL OVERBOARD AGAIN!!!"

And there you go jumping right in after him.

"I'M COMING CAPTAIN!!"

Ussop and Chopper are standing by the railing horrified and screaming with everything they've got because 'YOU CAN'T SWIM EITHER!!!'

"How did their bounty increase by 20 million!?!?" Nami exclaimed having seeing your newest wanted poster.

Luffy, who was walking by and heard, suddenly had stars in his eyes.

"Really!?!? They're so cool 🤩"

And Nami is smacking the back of his head as hard as she can

"DON'T ENCOURAGE THEM, MORON!!!"

This man loves you with his whole heart and has known you since you were both children

Ace had found you sneaking out Dadan's shack with a huge pile of food and captured you.

"What do we do with them?"

"We could kill them." Sabo suggested.

"Excuse me, I really need to use the bathroom." You wiggled against the rope binding you.

"Like that's gonna work on us!"

"No, excuse me for being rude and leaving. You guys are funny but I really need to pee."

And they hadn't realized you'd already torn through the ropes until you got up and walked away.

They are completely dumbfounded and a little impressed.

Well except for Luffy who had been watching because he wasn't allowed to talk to the 'captive' during 'interrogations'. Whatever that meant.

He's getting up and chasing after you with a huge grin.

"Hey! Come back! I wanna be friends with you!!!"

And Ace and Sabo are the running after him before he can catch up, lecturing him about leaving weirdo people like you alone.

"I mean what kind of person just tears through rope and walks away all unbothered????"

"Me! I do that!"

Cue the screams because how did you manage to climb the treehouse without the ladder???

You meet up again several years after you all had set sail.

Ussop spotted something floating in the water shortly after the crew already left from thriller bark.

A person to be exact.

A person on a wooden plank.

And before he could inform anyone about it, Luffy was already stretching himself over to the castaway.

His eyes bugging out when he saw who it was.

"Y/N????"

Your expression matching his.

"LUFFY???"

"Long time no see. How have you been?"

And the crew is peaking over the Sunny curiously. Because who the hell was this that their captain seemed to be very friendly with?

Friendly than usual considering he his arms were wrapped around you several times, picking you up and swaying you.

"The pirate life is hard. My ships keep sinking. Say, mind if I hop on yours for a while?" You asked hopefully.

There was something even more hopeful in Luffy's as he set you down.

"I've got a better idea. Join my crew!"

"I don't kno- IS THAT A FREAKING SKELETON?!?! HELL YEAH I'M IN!!"

The crew warms up to you almost instantly considering you have the same bright personality as their captain.

And the ones weary of you (Zoro, Nami, and Ussop) become convinced when they see you fight and pull your weight.

"Hey, Luffy! Can we try that one move we used to do when we were smaller??"

All you get is a nod in return before he slingshots you towards a Marine ship.

The result?

You basically cannonballing into the side, only to reappear on the deck as it sinks. Reaching back for Luffy's hand as he lifts you up and flings you towards another. Jumping on after you to join the fight.

Your teamwork is practically unbeatable.

And the fact that you can keep up with Luffy perfectly cements your place on the Sunny.

It's no secret Luffy loves you.

And it's no secret you love him back.

The Pirate Empress Boa Hancock?

She's cool, he guesses.

Shirihoshi the mermaid princess? The most beautiful woman in the world?

She's a huge crybaby.

You? An idiot who broke the aquarium after tapping too hard on the glass to get the 'pretty fishy' to notice you?

You're his.

He doesn't make a big deal out of the way he feels.

He doesn't get all blushy or nervous around you

Instead he feels pure happiness and the most at peace he's ever been

Luffy will not try to court you the way a certain cook might court the ladies on the Sunny.

No big or grand gestures

Also not shy showing you affection.

He's known you for so long that gestures like that come naturally.

Holding hands to explore a new island?

Check

Wrestling with you on the deck of the Sunny?

Check

Sharing and stealing food from each other's plate?

Check

Trading around Shanks' straw hat on the daily?

Double check

The closest he'll get to confessing is at a time where the two of you are alone in the crows nest together.

"After I became the king of the pirates, let's keep having adventures together." And he'll put his signature strawhat on your head.

"Who says I'm going anywhere? This is the ship of dreams right? Well my dream is for us to stay together forever. So make it come true, captain."

It's at that point he realizes he'd follow you anywhere you asked him to. The same way you were following him now.

Will Luffy baby you?

You're insane if you think he will.

Because it's just the two of you encouraging each other to do stupid shit.

Actively trying to outdo each other

Luffy catches a huge fish?

You're jumping in the water because you saw a shark.

You broke into the kitchen at night to steal from the fridge?

Luffy is lugging it out so you two can have a midnight snack in the middle of the deck.

Both of you are being chased by Pacifistas?

It's a game to see who can destroy more.

"Do you think if I start training after I eat I'll throw up?" You asked.

"Let's test it out!" Luffy encouraged.

Only to find out that yes, you will in fact throw up training after eating.

"Well now we know!"

Luffy will call you the most bizarre nicknames he can come up with.

Get used to: Meat stick, pork chop, swimmy (because you cannot swim for the life of you), cannonball, and some messed of version of your name. (Think of how he calls Law and Kidd, Traffy and Jaggy)

But occasionally, in the rarest moments known to man, he will call you his treasure.

Luffy will get incredibly jealous if someone outside of the crew talks to you.

With the Strawhats, he doesn't care. You all need to get along anyways.

Brook wants to play you a song to see if it's okay?

Fantastic because you two have the same taste in shanties.

Zoro wants to train with you and see if he can make his attacks any stronger?

Hell yeah! Kick his ass!

You're Sanji's taste tester?

Sneak him something out will ya?

Franky and Ussop want to test out a new invention on you?

So cool!!!!! Tell him what it does when you're finished!!!

He's over the moon with you spending time with them.

But if it's a marine, another pirate, or just a random citizen, he's fighting them.

He's incredibly immature and will not let anyone get too friendly with you.

Luffy will bite, and he will not let go until that person apologizes and leaves.

Man or woman, doesn't matter.

He's throwing hands, gum-gum gatling all the way.

Second gear if he's pissy enough.

All in all, you two don't need a brain to be able to tell you love each other.

Next Up: Uryu Ishida

An: I'm back baby. 🫶 (Also yes I watch one piece in dub pls don't bully me 👉👈)

MASTERLIST

[thewalkingthread]

you're losing me - R.G.

part 2

pairing: rick grimes x reader

summary: officer friendly gets too friendly with a certain blonde haired woman

warning: cheater!rick, swearing, kinda sad, established relationship, not a happy ending

a/n: idk man, hope you like it

word count: 1,991

"It's already dead, ya know? Don't have to keep stabbing it." Daryl grunted as he dropped his plate of food on the table, sitting in the empty spot of the wooden picnic table next to you.

You glanced down at your food, multiple holes littered the piece of meat from you stabbing it with your fork. You sighed, dropping the fork on the plate and rubbing your clammy hands on your jeans.

Your eyes landed back on the two people a few yards away. They've been laughing and talking for the past 20 minutes. Not a care in the world. You couldn't hear what they were saying, the chatter and noise of the picnic party drowning out their conversation. It didn't matter though, seeing their interactions told you enough. Some people would say they looked quite good together. Except, the only problem is, the man was your boyfriend.

"He ain't gonna do nothing with er." Daryl's eyes followed yours. You roll your eyes, your hands tightening in a fist.

It's been 5 months since the group arrived to Alexandria and you had a bad feeling about Jessie the moment you saw her.

The first day you arrived, you and Rick took a much needed shower together. While you opted to unpack the little stuff you guys had, Rick was downstairs getting a haircut from Jessie.

You walked into the kitchen, surprised that you had a guest. You were even more surprised to find Rick shirtless, sitting in a chair while this woman runs her hand through his hair.

"Wouldn't be too sure." You muttered back, forcing yourself to look down at your plate.

Daryl grunts beside you, giving you a nudge. "Rick's done a lot of stupid shit, but I don't think he's dumb enough to fuck things up with you. If he does, it's his loss, anyway."

Daryl's words are supposed to be comforting, but it does the exact opposite. Was it a possibility that Rick would betray you like that?

You glanced back up at the two again. Jessie threw her head back in laughter as her hand lands on his chest, slapping him playfully. Ever since Rick killed her husband, the two of them have been awfully close.

Everyone has noticed. You don't miss the passing glances and sorry looks on peoples faces whenever they pass you. You know what they're thinking. You'd be thinking the same thing if you were in their shoes.

Something changed the night Rick killed Pete. Not just for Alexandria but for the two of you as well.

It didn't happen all at once. It was gradual. Rick was slowly pulling away, he probably didn't even realize it. But you did. You remember every time he'd come home later than promised. You remember every time he told you one thing and then ended up changing his story later. You remember every time he'd slip out of bed in the middle of the night and sneak back in an hour or so later.

You weren't sure if Rick was cheating on you with Jessie, but you were pretty confident that your relationship was going downhill. It wasn't a matter of if you would break up, it was, when.

"Y'know," You turn your head towards Daryl as he interrupts your thoughts once again. "You could always just tell er to fuck off." He shrugs, bringing the chicken leg up to his mouth.

You bite the inside of your cheek, watching as Jessie's hand grazed Rick's bicep. You huff, standing from the picnic table.

"Atta girl," Daryl slaps the table with his hand as you toss your plate into the trash on the walk towards Rick and Jessie.

Jessie's attention turns to you as you approach the two. Rick smiles at you, holding his arm out for you. You smile, sliding into his body, naturally melting against him.

"Hey, darlin." He mumbles, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Hi," You sigh. "Is it okay if I steal my boyfriend?" You give Jessie a tight lipped smile, tugging on Rick to follow you before she could even respond.

Rick chuckled lightly as you both walked away. "Everything alright, darlin?" He asked.

You shake your head. "Can't say I enjoy other women fondling my boyfriend." You grumble.

Rick stops you both in place. His hands settle at your shoulders as he holds you still to look at him. "She was not fondling me." He rolls his eyes slightly.

"Whatever you say, Rick. Everyone can see the way you two act. Have me out here looking like a damn fool." You roll your eyes.

"How many times are we gonna have to talk about this?" His eyes glared down at you.

"Well, how long are you going to keep flirting back and forth with her?" You scoff.

Rick's jaw clenches tightly as he stares at you. This wasn't the first argument you've had about this topic. You've definitely brought up your distaste to Rick about his lady friend.

"You're being insecure and ridiculous." Rick drops his hands. "If you don't trust me, just say it."

Your eyes widened at his choice of words. You gulped the saliva that built in your mouth. "Fine," You throw your hands up before locking eyes with him. "I don't trust you. Until you can prove to me that I can, I don't want anything to do with you. Feel free to go back to your little friend." You shoot him a glare.

"Fine!" He glares right back. Your jaw clenches as he steps back from you, not really expecting him to respond that way.

"Fine," The word came out as a whisper to yourself as you watched him walk back towards Jessie who was now talking with Maggie and Carol.

You willed yourself to turn around, heading straight towards your shared house. You slam the door shut, locking it behind you before pacing the living room a few times.

There's been several times when your relationship with Rick has been rocky. There have been times where things were said out of anger and the heat of the moment. There's been times when you questioned the future of your relationship.

But it was never like this. Never this... definite.

You spend the next several hours deep cleaning the entire house, doing anything to try to get your mind off of Rick. You hadn't realized how late it was till Carl strolled in with Judith.

"Hey, Y/N!" He nods his head. "What's for dinner?" He looks around the spotless kitchen, noticing there's no food set out.

"Oh shit-" You mumble, looking at the time on the clock. "I'll throw something together..." You pull open the fridge, getting ingredients for a simple pasta dish.

"Hey, uh-" You glance at Carl. "Have you seen your dad anywhere?" You ask, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Carls shakes his head with a shrug, putting Judith on the ground to play. "Not since the picnic. Why? Is everything okay?"

Nope. Not at all.

You force a smile on your face and nod. "Yeah, everything's fine. He just hasn't come home since then. Sure he'll be home soon for dinner."

He wasn't home for dinner.

He wasn't home to say goodnight to the kids.

You let out a deep sigh looking at the clock one more time.

It was almost 9:30 now and he still hadn't come back.

You weren't eager to see him but you knew you both had things to talk about. In defeat, you grabbed a jacket and pulled on your shoes.

You checked on Judith one more time before slipping out of the house to find Rick. You checked the gate first, thinking he'd taken an extra shift on watch just to avoid coming home. When he wasn't there you checked each post on the perimeter, coming up empty.

Eventually you just wandered the streets aimlessly.

You stopped in front of Jessie's house. The lights were all off. Surely he wasn't in there, right? Your eyes landed on the open garage, light spilling from it.

Jessie was probably up working on some art, it wouldn't be the first time. You contemplate going up and asking her if she'd seen Rick recently, but something about doing that just felt so pathetic.

You mustered up the last bits of pride you had left and made your way up the driveway. You were immediately stopped in your tracks when you catch sight of Jessie.

And Rick.

Kissing.

Jessie's arms were slung around Rick's neck while his were gripping either side of her hips. Gripping.

Your entire world shatters at the sight.

The gasp that leaves your mouth was automatic and sharp.

Rick pulls away first at the sound. Even if he didn't know it was you, he knew he was caught.

His eyes go from panic to regret the second they lock onto yours.

"Y-Y/N," He lets go of Jessie, taking two steps towards you.

You stumble back, your eyes moving between the two. Jessie is staring at you with wide eyes, unsure what to do. Rick kept taking steps towards you, matching the steps you took back.

You shook your head, turning away from them and sprinting the opposite direction. You didn't stop sprinting till his calls for you faded to nothing.

There wasn't many places you could run to while confined in the walls, but you couldn't be near him right now. You couldn't go home. You just needed to be alone.

You stopped at the windmill, sneaking to the back and sliding against the wall to the ground. The moment you stopped to catch your breathe, you let the tears fall from your eyes.

Even with how bad things with Rick have been, you didn't think he'd ever betray you like this. The thought of him cheating on you crossed your mind once but you convinced yourself that he was a good man and he would never hurt you like that.

You were wrong.

You wanted to slam your head against the wall. Anything to distract your from the pain in your chest.

The sound of his boots thumping against the dirt met your ears. You didn't take your face out of your hands when you heard them stop only a few feet away from you. You didn't bother looking up even when you could feel him there. You could feel his eyes burning into the top of your head.

"I'm sorry," He said simply.

You almost wanted to laugh.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry."

You drop your hands, looking at his dirty boots in front of you. He crouches down in front of you, hoping to get your attention.

"I just want to know why," Your tired eyes land on his. Rick's mouth opens to speak before he shuts it again, trying to muster up an answer.

Rick sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know." He admitted.

"How long?" You raised an eyebrow at him, doing your best to stop your voice from cracking, but the quiver was there.

"That was the first time. I swear." His hands grab onto yours and it feels like fire on your skin. You yank your hands away, causing him to flinch. "I swear on my life, baby-"

"Don't." You spit out, "You don't get to call me that ever again." You pick yourself off the ground. "I really hope she's worth it, Rick. I hope she's worth losing us over." You sniffle the last of the snot in your nose, stepping to the side to escape Rick.

You were a few strides away when his voice broke through the air.

"It felt like I was losing you... I didn't know wha-"

I didn't know what to do.

Your eyes rolled so badly, they could've fell right out of your head. You spin around to face him once more. His face hidden in the shadows, only half of his face lit by the street lantern.

"Didn't know cheating was a valid reaction to that." You scoff, "Congratulations. You've officially lost me." You call out before walking away from Rick.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi! Can I Request a One Piece Whitebeard Pirates x Ace's Twin Sister!Reader? Like her and Ace are the exact same. They both have Narcolepsy and Eat a lot. And are Hot Heads. It's just that the Reader could have a different Devil Fruit or Something.

And for like a Love Interest I would say Izou, he's so under-rated. He's an under-rated Whitebeard Divison Commander.

Also I love your work! You inspire me!

-You and Ace were a lot alike, both of you were hot heads, had narcolepsy, could eat your weight in food (but nothing like Luffy), and you were both high ranking members in Whitebeard’s crew. Funny thing was, you both thought you were nothing alike!

-Ace was the first to join Whitebeard’s crew, and you came a while later, after figuring out where Ace was, after the two of you parted ways to explore on your own.

-Unlike Ace however, you were more polite, rather than just demanding Whitebeard to fight you to join, you asked him nicely and he instantly agreed, welcoming you aboard as his daughter. Ace wasn’t happy, finding it unfair, claiming that he liked you more!

-This caused lots of laughter to fill the ship as you were easily welcomed in, grinning so warmly and brightly as you got to meet with everyone and join the crew.

-As you and Ace sat side-by-side, eating in unison, Marco couldn’t help but grin, “You two are a lot alike, aren’t you?” you both looked at him like he had two heads as you spoke in unison, waving a hand in front of you both, once again, in unison, “No- not at all.”

-It was actually hilarious, as you both fell asleep in your food shortly after, snoring in unison, before waking up, looking a bit confused on how your food got all over the both of you.

-Everyone else quickly found out that the two of you really didn’t realize it, that you were so identical in your mannerisms and quirks- you both thought you were nothing like the other!

-You proved yourself an asset to the crew, using your own Devil Fruit ability, being able to control water, which you used to control waves around enemy ships, or pushing the Moby Dick to go faster, or using the water to cool off everyone on hot days- or when Ace pissed you off.

-Ace loved having you on the crew and he loved that you fit in so well, despite the occasional twin spat here and there, but you always made up by the end of the day.

-The only thing Ace had a real problem with was that he couldn’t stand to see you and Izo flirting with each other. You liked Izo, he was a nice person and he always made you smile and made you feel like a princess, even after you got done with a fierce battle.

-Izo adored you as well, you were so open, warm, and bubbly- you didn’t care about how others thought about you, and you only cared about being happy and having fun! It wasn’t hard to fall for you at all.

-Ace had always been like that with you, even when you were kids, if you claimed you liked another boy, that wasn’t Sabo or Luffy, Ace would go and beat them up, telling them to stay away from you, which unfortunately made all the boys your age scared of you.

-You had been wandering around, looking for Izo as the two of you were going on a date now that the ship was docked- he had just asked if you wanted to get lunch, but you were elated!

-You asked Pops who just grinned, “They’re by the figurehead.” You were confused, as you were just there, but you thanked him and ran off.

-Your eyes went wide, seeing Ace trying to attack Izo, “You’re not allowed to date my sister!” while Izo was shouting back, trying to defend you, “She can date if she wants to!” while your other brothers were all laughing, watching the fight.

-Your cheeks immediately puffed up, furious as you made a wave come up and put Ace’s fire out, halting everything. As everyone turned to you, you were pouting, your cheeks puffed up, a glare and tears in your eyes as you looked furious, “You…stupid big brother!!”

-You lunged at him, hitting and yelling at him, “You always do this- this is why nobody wants to date me! You stupid big brother!” while he was yelling back, but not hitting you, just trying to get you off, “You’re not allowed to date ever!” “How am I supposed to get married then?!” “You’re not getting married!!”

-It was Juzo who pulled the two of you apart, holding you both apart at arm’s length, Ace trying to get out to get to Izo and you trying to get back to Ace to protect your boyfriend!

-Marco just grinned, giving a small nod to Juzo, who tossed you at Izo, a happy squeal leaving your lips as he caught you easily before running off with you in his arms while Ace yelled, “Oi Marco! Don’t let him take Y/N!!”

-When you and Izo returned a few hours later, Ace was on the ground, gloominess surrounding him as he looked so dejected and sad, whining out your name.

-You came over and kneeled in front of him and he looked up, a huge smile lifting to his lips, “You came back!” you just laughed, grinning down at him, “Of course I came back! I’ll always come back to you Ace!” he melted under your words, smiling up at you warmly.

-He then noticed your lips were a bit red and he quickly sat up, “Why are your lips red?” you just grinned brightly, “Izo was wearing a pretty color today, so I wanted to try it too!”

-Ace quickly was surrounded by flames as he started chasing Izo around the ship again, yelling at him, as he misunderstood, thinking that Izo had kissed you to share his lipstick.

-Marco was the one to realize this as you pulled out the tube, a bit confused, before you turned to Marco, “What do you think Marco- isn’t this color cute?”

-Marco just grinned, ruffling your hair lightly before he sighed softly, taking flight to go after Ace, before he killed Izo while you went to see Pops, to tell him about the date.

[collapsedglasshouses]

TANGLED THREADS [Noah Sebastian x fem!reader, Nick Ruffilo x fem!reader]

COLLEGE!AU

CHAPTER ONE: STRIKING A CHORD SUMMARY: There is something about you, Noah can't really bring himself to process. No matter what he does, everything comes back to you. Unfortunately, he knows that Nick feels the exact same way. PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader; mentions of Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader WARNINGS: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ [unprotected p in v, degradation, rough sex ig, …], no mentions of reader’s name, angst, noah is toxic and delusional and also a utterly big simp, reader is toxic, toxic dynamics, mentions of noah thinking about nick during intercourse kind of?, swearing, its not completely proofread … WORD COUNT: 3.8K A/N: Hello, hello! A little note at the beginning. I got inspired while watching Challengers for the hundredth time in like… four weeks. This is inspired by a scene in the movie. Other than that, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I’m planning on writing two more parts. For those, who miss Nicky in this one, chapter 2 will be for you!

Noah Sebastian liked to think of himself as a patient guy. He was nice. People said he was understanding and empathetic. It was something he was known for on campus. It was no secret that a lot of people on campus, especially some guys he had encountered, were total douchebags. But he was not one of them. He was known as “the sweet guy that likes to sing and play the guitar”. At least, according to most people who he had met.

That being said, he really couldn’t wrap his mind around why you were frustrating him so deeply he wanted to collapse to the ground and seize to exist.

It’s been a while since he and his best friend, Nick, had met you for the very first time at this talent show at the bar down the street. The two boys weren’t new to these shows. They were frequent contestants and had already won a fair share of these events. Noah wasn’t in college to seek a particular profession; he was there because his family wanted him to. Meanwhile Nick just enjoyed living in the moment. He didn’t really have a plan for the future, so when his best friend proposed his idea of becoming musicians, he simply agreed. Since then, nothing was more important to the two boys then their music project, with which they desperately wanted to break through.

At least it was until they met you. To say Noah had been through hell and back since the moment you stepped on that stage at that particular night, was a drastic understatement.

He still vividly remembered watching you as you smiled shyly, your guitar hanging from your neck like it was a statement piece. He remembered the almost physical reaction he had to you. The crowd was cheering nearly as loud as they did for him and Nick when they had stepped on stage just an hour prior. There even were people that made signs for you in support.

It was so obvious you were a favourite and when you started your performance, Noah felt like he was going into cardiac arrest. Your voice was angelic and the way your fingers glided over the strings of your guitar made his knees weak. He could tell that Nick was thinking the exact same thing. If the way he swallowed so hard wasn’t hint enough, it definitely was how his breath slightly caught in his throat when you started to engage with the crowd just a little more.

"Goddamn..." Nick had muttered under his breath. Noah could distantly see Nick’s hand clench on top of his thigh when you smiled into the crowd.

Nick and Noah didn’t even realize they were openly gawking at you and if they had noticed they probably would have been embarrassed. Still, it felt like everything they did was justified. You were creating magic on that stage and everyone in that room knew it.

Normally, Noah would have been disappointed over losing a contest, considering him and Nick where trying to get more people into their music they were slowly developing, but when it was announced that you had gotten the award, it felt like all his sorrows simply vanished.

“You know… If you get her on our project… I’ll gladly play the bass.” Nick let out in an almost stuttering breath as both of them stared at the stage where you were thanking everyone.

A couple of weeks, more like months, had past since that night. What Noah really didn’t expect was the fact that he was currently sitting with you at a lunch table, while you were complaining about a literature assignment you still had to finish. In all honesty, Noah wasn’t really listening to you, too busy trying his best not to glare too obviously at the Limp Bizkit hoodie you were wearing. It was extremely obvious who this piece of clothing belonged to, and Noah was internally fuming because of it. It was Nick’s. The hoodie string had a slightly different color than the rest of it. Noah remembered when Nick had changed the string after losing the original one.

You must have kept it the last time you saw Nick. The bold letters on the front seemed to almost mock Noah. He was biting the inside of his cheek while you rambled on and slammed his can of coke down on the table with a little more force than he intended. You hadn’t noticed. Or at least, you ignored it.

Noah didn’t really know what exactly was going on between Nick and you, but he tried his utter best to be okay with it. At least he did in the beginning. After all, Nick had been his best friend since Noah was twelve. Noah should have been stoked about the fact that you were into Nick just as much as he was into you. It was so clearly obvious it was the case when the two of them had walked up to you to congratulate you on winning at that talent show weeks ago.

It wasn’t like Nick was a player or something, but Noah almost crumbled into a million pieces when he realized you were playing into Nick’s desperate attempts to get into your pants. You weren’t averting your eyes shyly or blushing when he blatantly checked you out, you were throwing back smart comebacks to his lines. You were looking up at him through your lashes, blinking at Nick as if you were innocence itself and Noah felt like something inside him had died on the spot.

It would have been absolutely shattering and soul-crushing for Noah if he wasn’t such a good friend. He simply stifled this feeling that could have only been described as jealousy and plastered the best smile on his face as he watched Nick and you shamelessly flirt with each other.

It wasn’t like it was anyone’s fault. Nick and he really hadn’t had the chance to talk about who could try and score with you prior to that evening. If anything, it was fair game, and Noah simply didn’t take the chance out of kindness and loyalty to his best friend.

The night had lasted long enough for you and Noah to connect as well, but differently. You were chatting about college and what courses you were going to attend after the break, realizing you had a lot of things together. You were smiling so sweetly at him over your glass. Still, it had stung seeing you laugh at Nick’s joke with slightly too much enthusiasm while sharing a cigarette with Noah, but there was absolutely nothing he would or could do about it.

You had chosen Nick, and it had nothing to do with Noah. At least, that was what he was trying to convince himself of.

But the longer he spent time with you while Nick wasn’t around, the angrier he got every time Nick would tag along and steal away all your attention. First, he thought it was absolutely stupid and childish of him to feel that way but as time passed, it became this gnawing, not ignorable, almost consuming rage that twisted his guts every single time he saw you with Nick.

“You know, Nick invited me to the movies this weekend. He asked if you and Chrissy would like to join.” You mumbled as you took another bite from your lunch.

Chrissy, right. She was a girl he had met in that particular literature class you were just complaining about. They had hooked up a couple of times, but Noah just couldn’t focus on her. They had decided to be friends, but honestly it was just awkward for Noah to hang out with her now.

Noah involuntarily huffed at your statement as he took a bite as well. “Yeah. Sounds fun.”

That was when you caught onto him.

When he looked at you under his lashes, you were already looking at him. “You know… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

Noah’s eyebrows flinched upwards, like he was caught. “No… No, no. It’s fine… Really. I’ll be there.”

You slowly nodded, still watching him with a hint of skepticism. “Are you sure, you’re alright? You’ve been acting strange.”

“Yeah.” He blurted out too quickly, but you seemed like you didn’t want to push it.

Nothing felt right, and Noah knew it would have been a way smarter decision to just keep his mouth shut, but his words had outrun his thoughts. “I just-…”

You were watching him again, encouraging him to continue with a slight nod. Noah fiddled with his food, searching for the right words.

“I’m just surprised you two are still… you know… together, I guess.” He muttered under his breath. His more rational self would’ve punched him for that, but the anger simmering inside of him took the wheel.

“Excuse me?” You exclaimed, caught completely off guard, your tone sharp with disbelief.

Noah just sighed and set down his fork. “Nick… He’s always had a hard time… committing.”

One of your eyebrows shot up as you studied him. His tone was calm, even sweet, but the accusation behind his words hit like slap. Guilt twisted in Noah’s stomach almost immediately after the words left his mouth, but this time he swore to himself he wouldn’t retreat. He held your gaze. He wasn’t lying - Nick really did have a track record of avoiding any kind of commitment. Yet deep down, Noah knew the truth. He and Nick weren’t close enough at the moment for him to know if Nick was even seeing anyone else.

You didn’t respond right away, your eyes scanning his face like you were trying to decode him. Noah forced himself to maintain eye contact.

“Are you really shit talking your best friend right now?” You said at last, leaning back in your chair. The casualness in your tone unsettled Noah, and it showed in the subtle clench of his jaw.

“I am not.” He insisted, his voice tingled with frustration. “I just know him a lot better than you do and I am trying to spare you the heartache.”

“Sounds a lot like you are shit talking to me.” Your tone hardened, disbelief mingling with irritation. “And who even says you know what the hell is best for me?”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.” Noah answered you, his tone matching yours. “He just doesn’t have feelings for you!”

You scoffed, your face twisting in anger. “Why the fuck do you even care?”

“I am just saying.” Noah exclaimed, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively. “He hinted at it.”

That was a lie. A blatant, baseless lie. Nick hadn’t said anything of the sort. In fact, Nick hardly ever talked about you unless you were present. And when Noah thought about it, he wasn’t sure why he’d even lie. Maybe it was the anger clouding his judgement, or maybe it was something he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself.

“Did it ever occur to you that I do not care?” You snarled at him, leaning forward now, voice rising.

At this point, a few people at nearby tables began to quiet down, their curiosity getting the better of them as they tried to eavesdrop. Noah stayed silent, the weight of your words sinking in—but not quite hitting home.

“I just wanted to tell you that.” He said weakly, fumbling to defend himself. God, you were infuriating. Of course, you would defend Nick.

“Yeah, but I wanna know why you care?” You asked again, your jaw tightened. You already knew why he cared but you wanted him to say it. You leaned closer to him over the table and spoke quietly. “Does it bug you so much that I fuck your best friend?”

Noah clenched his fists, jaw flexing in anger. He’s never seen you this mad before and he especially never expected to be the cause of it.

His eyes narrowed as he held your gaze, leaning closer to you. “You don’t get it, do you?” He muttered through his teeth.

“I think you don’t get it, Noah.” You bite out as Noah was starting to smell the familiar scent of your perfume. In other cases, it would have consumed him, but right now he couldn’t back down. “Who said I want Nick to be in love with me? Who the fuck said I give even the slightest fuck about any of that shit?”

Noah scoffed at your desperate attempt to come off as nonchalant. He stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Oh, please, sweetheart.” He shifted even closer to you. You could feel his breath on your face. “The way you act like a lost puppy around him tells me you care deeply about that.”

You blinked at him for a second, taken aback by his rude tone. You knew in some way he was right, but the fact that he called you out so blatantly made your blood boil.

Noah on the other hand thrived. The look of rage and intensity in your eyes was what Noah searched for, for months at this point.

“You know what.” You muttered, Noah didn’t miss how your eyes travelled to his lips for a second. “Fuck you. You are literally the worst fucking friend in the world.”

With that you stood up from your chair, gathering your stuff and leaving the cafeteria, leaving Noah with nothing but his thoughts.

Maybe he was a bad friend. Noah could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. A weird mix of emotions running through his veins. There was embarrassment, jealousy, anger, hatred and lust. The way you were looking at him, anger burning in your eyes, shot straight to part of his body he didn’t want to admit it did. His heartbeat echoed in his ears.

Noah was in misery for the rest of the day. He had decided to skip his classes after lunch, simply hiding inside his dorm. He stared at the ceiling as your fight replayed in his head. In some way he felt good about finally letting out his thoughts. But with that came the resentment. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had lied. He had lied about his best friend, just because he was so desperate to get close to you.

He thought about texting Nick, but eventually gave up after numerous attempts to find the right words about what had happened without telling him he was a fucking liar.

The sun had already set when he made the decision that he had to forget you. He needed to focus on his dream of becoming a serious musician. He couldn’t waste his time on something so simple than this feeling he had about you. It didn’t matter how pretty you were. It didn’t matter how he felt a particular part of his body move when you simply leaned over the table to look at him through your gorgeous lashes. He needed to forget you.

That was what he had decided before his phone reminded him of reality.

Come over.

Noah had never moved that fast in his entire life, rushing out of his room, with only his phone and the keys. He made it to your dorm in such a short time that he nearly sprinted over campus. He needed to catch his breath when he reached the corridor where your room was at. All his resolutions had vanished into thin air when he came to a hold in front of your door.

He hesitated for a second, staring at the door, his mind racing. Should he apologize? What would you want to say? Were you still mad at him? God, he hoped you weren’t mad anymore.

He bit down on his lip as he quietly knocked on your door. Barely a second passed before it opened.

He didn’t have the time to process what was happening, as you gripped the front of his shirt and dragged him inside. Noah’s back hit the now closed door with a thud, his breath caught in his throat in surprise. He tried to save the jacket that hung on the door from falling to the ground, but your grip on his shoulders, didn’t make it possible for him to do so.

When he allowed himself to look at you, he noticed you looked different. Your eyes were puffy and red. Your breath came out in short burst as you stared him down. All the emotions he had just sworn to bury rushed back at him when he stared into your soul.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his voice a mix of confusion and worry. His hands came to a rest on your hips, hesitatingly, not sure if he should touch you.

He noticed you were still wearing Nick’s hoodie.

Noah was close to opening his mouth again, when you suddenly yanked him forward, closing the distance between the two of you as your lips crashed against Noah’s. It was so sudden, Noah stumbled a couple of steps towards you, almost causing you to lose balance.

He felt pathetic for how easily he kissed you back, not even giving a single thought of hesitation to it. His mind shot to Nick, only causing him to draw you closer to him. He surely owned himself the award for being the worst friend in the world, but all his common sense left his mind, when you pushed your tongue into his mouth.

It was rough how your lips clashed together. It almost felt violent. All the aggression and frustration from earlier filling the room between you two. It was not how he had imagined your first kiss to go, but he wouldn’t do shit to end whatever was going on.

He almost whined when your hands slipped under his shirt, your cool fingertips spreading goose bumps all over his body.

“It’s over with Nick.” You breathe hotly, before roughly kissing down his jaw. Noah was in such a haze that he almost didn’t get your words. “You need to fuck me, Noah.”

Holy fucking shit.

Noah felt like he had never been this hard in his entire life. But still, his common sense came back to him in the worst fucking moment.

He softly pushed you away to get a couple of inches between the two of you. His mouth opened, but no words came out, his mind still processing what was happening.

“What?” You harshly barked at him, running a hand through your messy hair.

“I-…” Noah began. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to-…”

“Oh, suddenly you wanna act like you weren’t trying to get in my pants for the last couple of weeks?” You mocked him, your voice riddled with a mix of hurt, frustration and lust.

Something snapped in Noah. It felt like you had slapped him across the face with your words. For a second, he freezed in disbelief, before you were suddenly pushed against the door.

“Are you serious right now?” He spit in your face. “You mock me. Insult me. Tease me endlessly and then proceed to tell me how you fuck my best friend, and you are trying to tell me that I’m the one who wants to be fucked. Are you out of your goddamn pathetic mind?”

“What’s stopping you, Noah?” You snarled at him, but when his eyes darkened, you knew you made a mistake.

The next thing you knew was how your face pressed into your mattress, while Noah grabbed your waist harshly. He leaned over you, his hard member pressing onto your ass. “I’ll make you regret choosing him over me.”

Noah didn’t miss the red mark on your neck. He knew exactly who had left it there, but the thought about Nick just made his dick twitch once more. He quickly leaned down and sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck right next to where Nick had left his mark. After that, he stripped you out of your jeans with a swift motion, before getting rid of his shirt.

You flinched when he touched your clothed pussy, trying to contain yourself. “So… are you all talk or are you gonna fuck me?”

Noah grabbed your hips roughly. “You can bitch like you want. I haven’t even touched you and you’re already so fucking wet for me.”

Still leaned over you, he dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear. You let out a moan, pressing your ass against him. Careful but firm, he stopped your movement before shifting his weight on his knees again. “You’re so pretty.” He whispered so quietly; he wasn’t sure if you caught on to his words.

While keeping one hand on you, the other one fumbled with the waistband of his pants. It took him less than a second until his dick sprung free. You squirmed impatiently, when you felt his precum leak onto your ass.

“You’re one to talk about being needy-…” You wanted to mock him, but he interrupted you within a heartbeat. “Shut up.”

Noah involuntarily groaned loudly, when his hips jerked against your ass. A shiver went through his body, eyes screwing shut as he tried not to cum all over your ass. “Shit, shit, shit…” He breathed out sharply. You simply giggled.

His fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and forcefully, he yanked them down to your mid-thigh. You breathed hotly in surprise, hands gripping the sheets of your bed tighter.

With a swift motion, he flipped you in your back, before leaning close to your face. He needed to see you.

“Please.” You whined, your hands gripping his tattooed arms desperately, while his gaze ran over Nick's hoodie that you were still wearing.

Noah took his dick into his hand and dragged it through the silky skin of your folds. When he rubbed over your clit, your hips jerked upwards involuntarily. You whined, slightly shaking at the sensation as he dragged his dick to your hole, lining up and slowly sinking inside with a heated groan.

“Shit.” You cried out, immediately wrapping your legs around his hips.

As he bottomed out, he grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. “I’ve fucking had it with you. Look at you. Pathetically craving for my dick. You fucking slut.” He snarled at you with a thrust of his hips. “The least you can do is take it like a good girl.”

“Fuck you, Noah.” You cursed him out, your voice not more than a breath. You saw how Noah smiled at you, feeling how you clenched around him at his words, before leaning down, pressing his lips to yours as he slowly began to move.

His lips drowned out your sweet noises and he couldn’t help but feel like he belonged right where he was. He sped up, desperately trying to stay quiet. But god, you felt so good.

“Noah.” You moaned, scratching your nails down his back. “Don’t stop… fuck… Please, I-…”

He cut you off with another kiss, whining at the way his name sounded out of your mouth.

“God, I’m gonna cum.” He whined as his hips smashed into you. “I need to feel you cum around me.”

He felt how your legs tightened around him as a small pain shot through your core from the roughness of your actions.

“I’m-…” You stuttered out. “I’m on the pill. Cum inside me.” You pushed your ankles into him, not even giving him the chance to pull out. Not like he wanted to.

“Fuck!” Noah shouted out, his hips starting to stutter as he slowly started to spill inside of you. You felt his hot cum on the walls of your pussy as you breathed out his name. He didn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm, until he collapsed on top of you, not being able to continue.

It was quiet after that. A silent agreement that he would stay the night, as he slowly pulled out of you, rolling on his back next to you.

As you curled up in his arms, he couldn’t help but feel the pride in his chest. It was everything he ever wanted. You were in his arms, with his cum inside of you, for once not talking about his best friend. While you fell asleep almost immediately, his mind was still racing. He was disturbed in his thought process when he saw his phone lighting up. When he looked at it after some time, he saw messages. Several messages. All from Nick.

He decided to ignore them...

dividers by @saradika-graphics

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6 @sitkowski @exitwoundsx

[crazyunsexycool]

Heart's Munition

Chapter 6

Pairing: Mob boss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of a stab wound, blood, fluff

A/N: Just some fluff here for you. Steve is slowly realizing he wants reader more than for just one night.

Series Masterlist

Steve didn’t like what he was seeing at all. This place was too small and too cramped. The building itself looked like it was about to fall into pieces around him and should be condemned. How had he not known? 

“That can be thrown out.” Your voice breaks him out of his deep thoughts as he watches you tape up another box. 

His eyes continued to travel around the small one bedroom shoebox you called an apartment and he sighed. You hold out a box for him to take which he does gladly because another box in the truck means he can get you out of this place faster. Fortunately Sam and Bucky are there with him and are making it a lot easier. 

****

“I’m going to miss you so much.” Mrs. Fields says as she walks out of the building with you. “Do you really have to go? You know I don’t mind looking after Eli, he’s like my grandbaby.” 

“I know Mrs. Field and I appreciate everything you’ve done but this place is so much better for him and I can keep a closer eye on him. I’ll even be able to get a tutor for Eli so he doesn’t fall behind on his schoolwork.” 

“Well whatever is best for him. Promise me you’ll come visit.” 

“Absolutely, I could never forget everything you’ve done for us.” You hug Mrs. Field tightly. She has truly been such a great help to you and you will miss her but you have to think about what’s best for Eli. “Call me if you need anything. No matter what.”

“I will. Give Eli hugs and kisses from me.”

“Sure thing, bye Mrs. Fields.” You say as you get in the car. Steve closes the door behind you and moves to the driver’s side. 

“She’s a neighbor?” 

“Yeah and Eli’s sitter. She was a life saver but now I can keep Eli closer which I prefer. I used to feel so guilty by having to leave him when he was sick.” You look over at Steve and smile. “So thank you for everything. It’s not easy for me to accept help.” 

“You? Having trouble accepting help? I would have never guessed.” Sarcasm dripped with every word he said. 

You scoff and roll your eyes while Steve laughs. 

“I’m never accepting anything from you again.” 

“Ok fine I’m sorry.” He chuckles. “Really, I’m glad to be able to help you and the little guy out.” 

“You know, he asked me for a suit so that he can get all dressed up like you.”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles. “I can get him the same exact ones in his size.” 

“No. He’d probably go to sleep with them on or wear them in the shower.” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. 

“But seriously, Steve, thank you for everything, again. He’s never had a man in his life that could set an example for him. Eli really likes you.”

“I like him too, he’s a good kid, smart too. But what about his ma? Does she like me too?” 

You scrunch up your nose and shrug. “Meh, you’re alright.” You say as your heart skipped a beat with the look he was giving you, it was mischievous but heated. Did he know the effect he was having on you? 

“Just alright?” 

“I can take it back.” 

“Fine, I’ll take it for now. But you’ll change your mind.” 

“Bring it on, Rogers.” You challenge. “Oh wait before we go home can we stop at one store? I want to get a surprise for Eli.” 

“Of course.” Steve says. Although he would take you to the moon if you called his house your home again. It was probably a slip of the tongue but he didn’t care. “Where to?” 

“Put that back and we can pretend like this never happened.” 

“I don’t have to listen to you. I can do whatever I want.” 

“You and I are going to have a problem if you don’t put that back right now.” 

You heard this back and forth once you got out of the car. Eli and Regina’s voice carried from the backyard and you ran at the thought of someone mistreating Eli. Steve was right behind you as you rounded the corner. 

“Take that!” Eli yells as he swings his lightsaber, it clashes against the one Regina is holding. “You’ll never defeat me.” 

“We’ll see about that.” 

“Get her kid.” Dom cheered from one of the lounge chairs.

There are little grunts and giggles as Eli and Regina battle it out. You take a moment to watch him play and tears start to form. Steve stood beside you and smiled until he looked down at you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You sniffle. “It’s just been so long since I’ve seen him this energized and happy. I’ve missed this.”

“Well wait until he sees the gift you got him.” 

“Ma,” Eli calls out between giggles. “Look at what Reggie taught me.” He says as he takes the lightsaber and throws it in the air before catching it and spinning it around. 

“That’s amazing.”

“I hope it’s ok that he’s out here.” Regina says as she walks up to you. “He was bored out of his mind just sitting in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, it’s ok. Thanks for playing with him for a while Regina.”

“Don’t worry about it and please call me Reggie. Everytime someone calls me Regina I feel like I’m going to get in trouble with my parents.” 

“Well thank you Reggie.” You smile at her. This was still her first week but she has been amazing. She does her job and doesn’t ask too many questions. Now it also seems like Eli likes her. “Hey Eli, come here for a minute.”

Elijah does as you ask and stands in front of you unsure of what is about to happen next.

“I brought you a present.”

“Really?” Eli smiles up at you. “What is it?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.” 

You walk back to Steve’s SUV and he opens the trunk and pulls out the gift.

“You got me a bike? I love it.” He says as he hugs you and then runs to his bike. 

“I got you a helmet too and yes you have to wear it.”

“But I’ll look like a dork.”

“But you’ll be safe kiddo.” Steve says with a chuckle. “Now your mom says you don’t know how to ride a bike, is that true?”

“Yup. Do you know how to ride one?”

“I do.”

“Will you teach me?” Eli looks up at Steve and Steve looks up at you. You smile and nod.

“Of course I can.”

“Boss.” Nat’s voice cuts through the backyard. She was still recovering but that wasn’t going to stop her. “I got a call from Clint.” 

Steve nods and Nat disappears back into the house then he turns his attention to Eli. He lowers himself to Eli’s level but his eyes go to you for a moment. 

“You have to work?” 

“I do bud. But I promise that I’ll teach you how to ride a bike soon, ok?” 

“Ok.” Eli says as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind him. 

“I’ll let you know when I get back and I’ll help you move your things then.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I can handle it.”

Steve just nods as he gets up before heading into his house. 

“Would you like some help moving your things?” Reggie asks.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it.” 

All of Steve’s men had left which meant that whatever Nat spoke to him about was serious. Regina had been so helpful in getting your most important items out of Steve’s SUV and up to both yours and Eli’s room. It was nice to have someone close to your age to talk to. You don’t even remember the last time you had a friend. Regina also respected your privacy which you appreciated even though you could see that she was dying to ask what was going on between you and Steve. A question you wouldn’t be able to answer. He was still flirty but not being pushy, he was spending time with Eli because he genuinely wanted to. Although you didn’t know what Steve got up to when he went to his clubs, he could still be sleeping with women there. So for now you just accepted his help because it meant help for Eli and you’d do anything for your son. 

At Steve’s insistence you took two of the rooms on the 3rd floor. His reasoning was that he wanted to be close in case anything happened with Eli. You were stubborn but he won this round. So now in the late evening you were walking out of Eli’s room after making sure he was ok for what felt like the 100th time when there was an argument down on the main floor. From the landing on the 3rd floor you were able to look down to watch as Clint and Scott dragged a man through the living room while Steve, Nat, Bucky and Sam were in the middle of a heated discussion. From there you could see how Steve was holding his side and you wondered if he was hurt again. As if sensing your eyes on him, Steve looked up and connected his gaze with yours. The angry expression on his face softened when he saw you standing there and he ended the conversation. Everyone went their own direction and Steve headed up to you. 

“What happened?” you asked when you saw the bloodstain on his shirt. 

“Knife wound, no big deal. It’s practically a scratch.”

“It’s not a scratch if you’re bleeding through your shirt. I’ll clean it up.” You stared at him wide eyed and with disbelief.

“You know if you keep cleaning up my wounds I’m going to think that you care.” 

“Don’t get too excited. If you die I have to find work somewhere else and I like working here, plus I already have seniority. The benefits are pretty good too.” You take Steve’s hand and lead him to his room. Steve laughs as he follows you.

“That hurt more than getting stabbed.”

“You’ll live.” You grab the first aid kit. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, but I can decline to answer.” 

“Of course. Who was the guy that was brought in?” You ask as you begin to treat the wound.

Steve doesn’t answer right away. He watches as your eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

“This is going to sting.” You say in warning and he hisses.

“You signed an NDA, right?” 

“Yeah. Why?” You stopped what you were doing to look up at him. 

“Because I need to know that what I’m going to say won’t leave this room.” 

You scoff, “I trust you, all of you, why can’t you trust me?” 

“You trust me?” Steve asked with a bit of disbelief coloring his words. 

“You think I’d let you anywhere near my son if I didn’t.” 

Steve studied you for a moment trying but failing to find a lie in your statement. 

“He’s the man who shot Peter.”

“And he’s still alive?” There’s a hint of anger in your voice and it takes Steve by surprise.

“Unfortunately he has information we need. He didn’t try to hurt Peter out of his own free will. Someone instructed him to do it and we need to know who.” 

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say as you finished bandaging him up. 

“So do me a favor. Keep Regina away from the basement, you know the room.” 

He was referring to the soundproof room he had down there for things like this. You’d accidentally stumbled upon it on one of your first days of working there. 

“Of course.”

“Ma?” Elijah’s sleepy voice rang through the hallway.

“I should go.” 

“I do trust you. I just don’t want you involved in this work. The less you know the easier it is for me to keep you safe.”

“Maybe don’t bring work home then.” You give him a mischievous smirk before going to find Elijah. 

Steve couldn’t help the smile that slowly spread on his face. This was the second time you’d refer to his house as your home. He really liked it. Steve was still trying to understand what it was about you that made him so protective over you and Elijah. Steve didn’t really do emotions unless they were lust and anger. But you were softening his edges. Would it be bad if he allowed himself to care for someone that deeply again? 

At the end of the day you weren’t like her. The most selfish thing he’d seen you do was take an extra five minute break. Steve would give you everything and anything that you wanted if you’d let him. 

All he had to do was show you he was willing to do it. 

CH. 7

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