#he also turns on a good radio channel for me every time and he laughs at my bad jokes <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[born-to-lose]

One day I'm ranting about men with the coworkers and the next I go to physiotherapy and get the cute guy with the musk scent, arm hair and beard stubble

[queen-of-the-queers]

what abt a jabitha fic of them making breakfast together 👀👀👀👀

Hey Levi, sorry this is a mess x

Tabitha dropped two pieces of bacon into the frying pan, sighing as a familiar sizzling sound filled the kitchen. She loved cooking breakfast. It was something she’d been doing since junior high, frying eggs, sunny side up and preparing steaming coffee for herself every morning before school.

It had also been a skill her grandpa taught her; every summer spent in Riverdale served as another opportunity to be shown how to create a meal from scratch and make it perfect.

And now she was so grateful for that experience, getting to put her skills into practise, both at work, and at home with her boyfriend.

Speaking of her boyfriend, she could hear him getting out of bed, the mattress squeaking audibly as he moved.

“Good morning sleepyhead!” Tabitha called out to him, watching with a soft smile on her face as he pulled on his robe and ambled towards the kitchen. He yawned, sinking onto one of the cheap, green bar stools opposite from her.

“Uh, it’s too early for this,” Jughead mumbled, rubbing his eyes, “I can’t believe you actually enjoy getting up at this ungodly hour.”

She cast her eyes to the antique clock pinned to the wall, grinning and rolling her eyes playfully upon seeing the time.

“Jones, it’s 10 o’clock.”

He moaned.

“Still! I swear you left me hours ago. It’s cold in there without you.”

Tabitha stood up, returning to her pan and flipping the bacon. She watched out of the corner of her eye as her boyfriend stared at her, a goofily enthralled look on his face.

“You could come over and help me?” she suggested, “And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider going back to bed with you.”

He perked up immediately, sliding out of his seat and walking around to stand behind her. His hand slid lazily from her shoulder, down her back until it was grazing just over her hip. She was barely able to hide the way the gesture made her shiver in exhilaration.

“What can I do?” Jughead asked, eyeing the mess of pots and pans covering every surface of the bench suspiciously.

Tabitha placed her spatula down and turned to face him.

“Either you mind this while I do the dishes, or you put some music on and get onto it.”

“Wow, Tabby, I’d forgotten how bossy you in the kitchen,” Jughead teased, “Yes chef.”

He sauntered over to the sink and turned the faucet on.

“What radio channel?”

..

For a while, they worked quietly yet harmoniously, side by side, both of them occasionally humming aloud to the radio. Music and delicious smells wafted through the kitchen, the intermittent sounds of sizzling bacon causing Jughead’s stomach to growl in hunger.

“Are we nearly done Tabs, I’m starving,” he grumbled.

She turned around, in the middle of scooping an egg onto his plate.

“Do you mean am I done? You’ve been subtly testing out your dance moves for the past ten minutes. Big improvement, by the way.”

A dull blush began to creep up his cheeks and Tabitha felt a tiny bit bad. But not much.

“Come on,” she said, slapping his arm gently, “Breakfast’s ready.”

And just like that, any shred of embarrassment he may have been feeling instantly melted away, as he eagerly grabbed the plates and attempted to run towards the dining table. Unfortunately, he rather misjudged his steps.

It was like his movements turned to slow motion. He tumbled towards the ground, crying out in shock as his and Tabitha’s delicious, heaping plates of eggs, bacon and toast went flying through the air. Eventually, everything came down to the floor with a splat.

Jughead sat there in silence for a few minutes, before shamefully peeling a piece of bacon off the ground and looking over at his girlfriend.

“Picnic,” he tried.

Instead of responding, she withdrew her phone from her pocket, snapped a few photos and burst out laughing.“Oh, Archie and Betty are gonna love this.”

[kyrodo]

As far as politics go when I say I don't care about politics, there are plenty of easy negative takes people can make from the outside. "Oh it means you don't care what happens to us or these various marginized groups". Which don't carry any actual weight if you actually think about it It just means I spend more time looking at my steam library than watching debates on tv or listening to the radio. Which I assume most people do anyway. Red is the one always turning on the "happy fun time channel" whenever we get in the car. If there's anything pressing I need to know I'll either get snippets of it half listening to that or whenever Red points something out. I also know saying such things have worse connotations when it's during a major event. But I am the type to try to reduce the amount of things that stress me out to what my more immediate concerns are, like work, medical appointments, yearly obligations like taxes, rent, social conflicts, what to play, the day to day. I don't watch random videos very often. I don't watch much of anything compared to most people. My outlets are whatever Red tells me and whatever people are retweeting.

So internally at least it makes a lot of sense. I don't pay attention. I nap I eat I sleep I play I work when I have to. And that's literally it. People are going to be more hyper aware of whatever horrible bills are being passed than I am, but I'm not anything special. A lot of people do that anyway. If there's anyone to single out it's the people that are pushing for bad things to happen, not the people who are just living. People will pressure each other to do things like go out and get shot by police protesting, but I'm not going. Even if I wanted to Red is overprotective to the point it's not even an option. And you could say nobody was telling me to do that but Kalas literally did. Kalas was injured and couldn't go out so he was pushing other people to in his place. Because life or death on the grand scale was more important to him than the lives of his friends.

I am a lazy person, low energy I focus on recreational activities more than anything else and I'm not in a good position nor am I motivated to go do things for a cause. And angering a crush isn't going to change that. You can try to divert the real issue as much as you want but in the end that is what it all boils down to. If you wanted someone to laugh about the latest stupid shit some idiot said on a debate, that's not what I'm here for. You can go to Red for that. You want to take advantage of me for it there's nothing stopping you now is there? That's what you've done the entire time anyway.

You look for all the easy ways to attack someone even without knowing who it was you were attacking. Every insult, every point made shallow, meaningless, or outright misplaced. A shitty crush with an even shittier friend. If you actually talked to people instead of shadowing them you would be a fucking saint compared to who you were. And in comparison what did I do? What did I do that is even a fraction of the bullshit you did.

We are not even. We are not even fucking close. I just don't go out of my way to fuck people up whenever I'm mad at them like you do. You need to change. I can make so many easy points against you, but at least every single one I make is real. Wish you knew how to talk to people without gaslighting them. Do you treat everyone like ass or is it just me?

I can be all nice to people even when I don't want to be, but I'll take that over you.

If you have a problem with someone you could always block them and move on instead of trying to provoke them into dming you. Right, but we're not about responsible action, we're about getting back at everyone that upsets whether it is excessive, deserved, or not.

Poking fun at me now probably isn't as fun as it was when I was incoherent and invested into your indirect subtext style.

[atomicsheepscientist]

I love all these additions! OK, here's my take on the incident that has them taking off his collar: The Joker bombed the manor.

It was Bruce's turn to watch over Danny for the night, so he was forced to stay in when the news of an Arkham breakout arrived. Dick suited up as Batman for the night, and it was all hands on deck rounding up all the escapees. Two hours in, and everyone was caught and put back in a cell... everyone except the Joker. Then, Joker appeared on every local radio and entertainment channel. He had a game for the Bats! Find the bombs he placed all around the city, or watch as the most important people of Gotham all blow up!

The first few were easy: The mayor's house, Jim Gordon's house, some other important figures. They found and disarmed 6 bombs, then found and arrested the Joker himself. They thought they were done, that they had won. But when cuffing Joker, one of the stopwatches lining his arms starts beeping, and he's laughing maniacally and singing "lucky number 7!"

Meanwhile, Bruce is with Danny. His coms and computers were confiscated by Alfred so he would focus on taking care of the sick boy. All of a sudden, Bruce hears a timer go off and the recorded sound of Jokers laugh echoing through the halls. He barely has time to cover Danny’s prone body when the room explodes all around them.

Alfred in batcave when it happened. He was helping Oracle coordinate the search over comms. When it was apparent the Joker was still loose, he was also tasked with keeping Jason in the cave. Jason was not happy with this decision, and was arguing loudly against it when the explosion happened. The entire cave shook with the force of it.

After a moment of silence, Jason quickly runs upstairs into the manor (in civilian clothes because his Red Hood gear was hidden by Alfred). The whole house is ablaze, wooden support pillers falling over and the roof looking like it will collapse in on itself any minute now.

Jason runs to Danny’s room, finding Bruce unconscious over the seemingly unharmed Danny (it's hard to tell if there are any new injuries under all the sores and skin decay). Jason can't carry them both, so he makes a split second decision. He moves Bruce's prone and bleeding body onto the floor, then picks up Danny (who's equally unconcious and bleeding, but again, he was like that before the explosion) and jumps out the window. Secondary blasts from inside the manor can be heard as Jason runs Danny to the front of the house. The Wayne manor is completely on fire, walls and roof can be seen caving in at some places.

Alfred joins Jason in the front yard, a safe distance back to watch the family home burn to the ground.

One minute later, Dick (as Batman), Damian (as Robin), and Tim (as Red Robin) arrive at the manor in the Batmobile. Three minutes later, the paramedics, firefighters, and police arrive, along with the rest of the bats and birds.

Jason places Danny gently on a stretcher as Dick storms up to him.

"Where's Bruce?" Dick asks in his best Batman impression, the worry in his voice hidden from anyone who wasn't trained by Batman.

Jason (in shock but not about to admit to that), just points back to the burning manor.

The fire can still be seen going strong, but the firefighters seem to be doing their job as several stream of water are fighting against the blaze.

"You left him in there? Why didn't you save him?!"

"What, you wanted me to run back into that burning building for a man who failed to do the same for me? I got Danny out! Was that not good enough for you?"

Red Robin steps between the two before the yelling can escalate into a full on fight. "Well, we're here now and we better get a game plan if we want any chance of not having to bury Bruce or anyone else tonight!"

At that, suddenly Danny stirs on the stretcher. He jolts up as though he was electrocuted, shakily standing up and opening his eyes. Dick and Tim hurriedly help him stand while also trying to convince him to lay back down. Jason notes those eyes are not the same blue color as before, but instead are green. Lazarous water green.

"Please, you have to... take it off! Please! I. I need. To protect. Someone. Needs help. Take it off!" Danny somehow managed to gasp out, in the closest thing to a moment of consciousness he's had in over a week.

"OK, fine. I'll take that stupid collar off you." Jason says, pulling out his lockpicks.

"What?" "No, stop!" Tim and Dick say at the same time.

"Screw you both, I've never liked that fucking thing anyway! Look at the kid, this might be his last request." Jason yells back, shoving their hands out of the way to get to the suppressant collar around the kids neck. He never said anything, but seeing Danny in that collar always felt wrong. In the few times he wasn't avoiding the manor, it was like he could feel the despair and inevitability of death radiating off the kid.

"He's a flight risk and dangerous criminal, Todd! Leave him be so we can go and save father!" Damian angrily stomps over, joining the conversation.

"Go and save B yourself if you're so worried! He was in Danny’s room last I saw. To your points about Danny; First off, I'm a dangerous criminal. Second, he's a dying kid! Maybe this will help him get some peace, at least. I'm doing this no matter what you say, so go fuck off for all i care." Jason worked on the lock even while arguing with his siblings. Seconds after saying that, the lock clicks open, and the collar falls to the ground. Dick and Tim had managed to get Danny sitting back on the stretcher. They back off as Danny slumps into Jason.

Danny feels like his whole body is on fire. Every nerve in his body floods with power. He feels amazing and horrible all at once as the ectoplasm rushes out to heal him. Like someone who was starving suddenly gorged themselves on a feast, the first thing he does is throw up. The second thing he does is change into his Phantom form. It's like a lizard shedding its old skin.

The Bat siblings watch in awe as their dying foster brother goes disturbingly still, then gasps and starts spasming as his wounds heal themselves with a green glow. Then, in a flash of white light, his form is replaced by a color-swapped version of the same boy. This white-haired Danny's whole body glows, but his green eyes glow the most. Danny flies out of Jason’s hold, and those glowing green eyes start sweeping the area, taking in everything going on. Then, he flies off. Before anyone can stop him, Danny flies directly into the burning mansion.

Dp x Dc fic idea that wouldn't let me sleep:

"No, you don't understand! I need my powers. I'll die without them!" Danny pleaded with the officer in front of him.

"Sure, kid, and I need a burger. You'll be just fine without your flight or superstrength or whatever. Look, I see kids like you all the time nowadays. You think just because you have a few powers, you can become some kind of hero. You run away from home, cause trouble in the name of 'justice' or whatever. Then reality hits. You start stealing. What's a few stolen bucks or candy bars in the name of the greater good, right? It's a downward spiral from there. Seems you were pretty far down the spiral. Beating up government agents? Kid, there is no way in hell I'm letting you out of here without the meta power suppressant collar. You're lucky Mr. Wayne was so generous and decided to foster you until we find your parents. I would've sent your troublesome ass back to juvie."

I was thinking this was a bad timeline where the Fenton parents died and Danny ran away. The power suppressing collar does work on him somehow, and cuts him off from his ghost half, which stops the ectoplasm that was keeping him alive since the accident.

I pictured Bruce as the foster parent that decided to help the troubled teen, but it could be anyone. Imagine if Lex Luthor decided he wanted to "help" (read: manipulate the young meta into doing his bidding) Danny instead. Extra angst.

[twodimecastle]

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

[legolasbadass]

Office Hours, Part 10

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague…

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: E 

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, I was struggling with one particular bit of this chapter! I hope you all enjoy this very smutty chapter😈

Also, if you recognize what I’m referencing with that Shadow Dancing moment, we are automatically friends. I don’t make the rules😉

Read on AO3

“The Canterbury Tales.”

“You’re so predictable,” Richard teases and squeezes my thigh, his eyes fixed on the road. “Coriolanus.”

“I didn’t know plays were allowed.”.

A few minutes ago, I proposed a game to pass the time on our way to Bath, where each of us has to name book titles starting with every letter of the alphabet. If one person hesitates, the other person wins and we move on to the next letter. It’s a silly game, but the fact that he embraces my silliness and agreed to play brings a warm, fuzzy feeling in my heart.

“Of course—why wouldn’t they be?”

“Hm, alright. The Crucible, ten.”

“Good one. The Comedy of Errors.”

“The Changeling!”

“Cymbeline.”

I hesitate for a moment. “Uhhh—ah, fuck,” I groan in defeat, then say, “Ok, new rule: no Shakespeare. It gives you an unfair advantage.”

“You’re free to use those plays, too, you know?” he replies with a teasing smile.

“You think I could think of Cymbeline on the spot?”

He laughs, then as he checks his blind spot and merges onto the M4, he says, “Fine. No Shakespeare—but no Tolkien, either.”

“Oh, alright fine,” I concede, then get back to the game. “David Copperfield.”

“I was going to say that!”

It’s my turn to give him a teasing smile. “I knew you were.”

“Dubliners.”

“The Decameron.”

“Dracula.”

“Dune.”

It’s Richard’s turn to hesitate.

“Ah! I win this time!”

“Isn’t the winner of the last round supposed to go first, anyway?” he muses, then shakes his head. “Cheater.”

“You should’ve been faster if you wanted to go first!” I reply teasingly.

Already more than familiar with my competitiveness, he only chuckles and shakes his head in response. With a smile on my face, I watch him intently for a moment. He looks absolutely edible today, a dark green suede jacket tight over his strong shoulders, the collar pulled up, drawing my attention to that alluring beard streaked with grey and the soft brown curls at the back of his head. Under the jacket, a pale grey turtleneck clings to his chest. It makes him look so cozy, like a warm cup of tea on a cold winter morning, and all I want to do is curl up against him and never let go.

“I don’t want to play anymore, though,” I say as I gaze back to the road ahead to avoid getting car sick.

“How about I put the radio on?”

“Sure.”

Richard flicks through a few channels—the news, classical music, 80s pop—before I gasp and force him to stop when I recognize Andy Gibb’s Shadow Dancing, causing him to send me an incredulous look.

“Seriously?”

“I loved this song when I was younger,” I explain, then start to sing and dance, slowly waving my hands in front of me to the rhythm. “Do it light, taking me through the night. Shadow dancing, baby you do it right. Give me more, drag me across the floor. Shadow dancing, all this and nothing more.”

“Andy Gibb? Really?” he says, now laughing at my ridiculous dance moves.

With a smile, I lean in toward him. “I need that sweet sensation of living in your love. I can’t breathe when you’re away, it pulls me down,” I continue to sing, but my laughter forces me to stop when Richard begins to imitate my dancing.

After a long moment, I finally catch my breath, and with a wide smile, I reach out to caress his hair. “This is already the best weekend. Thanks for inviting me.”

Richard smiles, his eyes still fixed on the road as he raises the hand that rested on my thigh to grab my hand and bring it to his lips, sending tingles up my spine. “Thank you for coming.”

***

I’ve never been to Bath in autumn before, and it takes my breath away. Every street, with its cobblestone pavement and grand Georgian buildings, makes me feel as if I am walking through a Jane Austen movie. The fading orange and red of leaves falling to the ground imbue the city with warmth despite the chill in the air, and with Richard’s hand holding mine as we walk away from his car, everything feels so romantic. The street is deserted, but still, being outside together without the fear of being discovered brings a smile to my face and makes me feel giddy.

Richard booked us a room at the Queensberry Hotel, and I can tell by the impressive lobby, with its chandeliers and lavish tapestried walls, that it must have cost him a pretty penny. We are greeted by a lovely woman with the most cheerful voice, and after a quick check-in, she gives us our keys, and we make our way up the narrow stairs.

Our room is bathing in the warm glow of the setting sun when we step inside. Two tall Georgian windows fill the far wall, overlooking the quiet street. It’s getting dark, but I’m sure that the view will be more than enchanting in the morning. A large king-size bed occupies one side of the room, the dark wooden canopy contrasting with the pale sage panelling. Facing it on the opposite end of the room is a fireplace, and through the door next to it, I catch a glimpse of the bathroom and the large shower with its green metro tiles.

Resting my bag on the desk in the corner, I turn to Richard, smiling as I say, “You’ve outdone yourself, mister.”

“You like it?” he asks, making his way toward me to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me flush against his chest.

“I love it.” Three other words reveal themselves to me from deep within my heart as Richard continues to gaze at me tenderly, his lips curled into a half-smile, and suddenly the whole room seems to spin around me. But then Richard speaks.

“We should probably go and get dinner.” Yet even as those words leave his mouth, he leans in to capture my lips with his in a kiss that renders me breathless. His beard is coarse against my burning cheeks, but the feeling makes me smile, which causes him to pull away.

“What is it?” he asks, his features mirroring mine.

I shrug. “Nothing I—I’m happy. I’m happy with you.”

His smile widens as he rests his forehead against mine, his deep cerulean eyes filling my vision. “You make me happy too, Lorelei.”

We share another soft kiss. Then, as I pull away, I chuckle. “Wow, that was cheesiness worthy of Nicholas Sparks.”

Richard shrugs. “We have our moments.”

As it’s getting darker and colder outside, I reach for my scarf and throw it over my trenchcoat. Richard, on the other hand, remains standing near the door.

“You sure you don’t want to wear a warmer coat? It’s cold out.”

“I’ll be fine,” he answers, smiling softly as he grabs my hand.

When we step outside, the sun has disappeared behind the tall buildings, leaving behind a crisp, chilly night that makes me grateful for my scarf and the warm hand holding mine. Fortunately, we don’t have to walk far before coming across a pub, and since neither of us is in the mood for something fancy, we gladly step inside. Despite the cacophony of conversations that surrounds us, the atmosphere inside is warm and cozy, and as Richard and I find a seat in a somewhat secluded corner, I find that there is even a certain intimacy to it. I’m reminded of the last time we were in a pub together, on that cold October night—the night we shared our first kiss.

Richard rises and goes to the bar to order, and when he comes back, I can’t help but chuckle as I see the two pints he’s holding. He, too, was thinking of that night.

“Cheers,” I say as he sits down before bringing the pint to my lips. At that moment, my phone buzzes, and I see a message from Natasha about a conference we are planning at the college. After sending her a quick reply, I offer Richard an apologetic smile. “Sorry, that was Natasha.”

“Speaking of Natasha…” Richard says suddenly. “Remember two days ago, in my office?”

Heat rises up my neck at the memory. I came into his office to ask him a question about possible interpretations of a line in Macbeth—completely professional—then next thing I knew I was sitting on his desk, books and notes scattered all around us as his mouth devoured mine and his hands caressed my curves in a most unprofessional manner.

“Uh, yeah, I remember,” I reply, then take a sip of to cool down.

Richard chuckles at my flustration and reaches for my hand to squeeze it tight. “Well, after you left, Natasha came to see me. Only I hadn’t had time to clean up the mess.”

“What?”

“Yeah. She saw it and jokingly asked who I’d been making out with.”

“Oh my God.”

Richard squeezes my hand once more. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t have a clue. She was just joking around.”

Only then do I find it in me to laugh at the situation, though some uneasiness remains. “What on earth were you waiting for to tidy up?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe I was just waiting for the boner you gave me to go away.”

“Richard!” I exclaim and playfully slap his arm. Then we notice the couple closest to us eyeing us disapprovingly and burst out laughing. A few moments later, while we are still giggling like children, the waiter arrives at our side.

“Alright, here you go,” he announces as he places our food on the table. “Enjoy your meal.”

I thank him, then turn back to Richard. “So … you excited for tomorrow?” I ask as I taste my chips.

“I’m a bit nervous, actually.”

“Oh, you still get nervous?” I ask, lifting my hand to squeeze his bicep in what I hope is a reassuring gesture.

“I’m always nervous about these things—I don’t really like talking in front of people like that,” he explains. “I enjoy conferences and sharing my research with others, I just wish I didn’t have to stand up and have everyone watching me as I did it.”

I offer him a soft smile. “Well, you know what they say: just picture everyone in the audience naked.”

Richard, who was just about to take a sip of his beer, chuckles and shakes his head. “I can’t do that—you’ll be in the audience. And if I start picturing you naked…”

I laugh, shaking my head while he chuckles. Then, a sudden thought appears in my head, and biting my lips seductively, I lower my hand to caress his upper thigh. “What if you start picturing me naked?”

Richard’s eyes darken immediately. “Lorelei,” he growls, unwittingly inviting my hand to slip higher toward his inner thigh.

“Yes?” I say in the most innocent voice I can conjure as the warmth of his skin seeping through his jeans travels through my whole body.

Slowly, he leans in toward me, his warm breath fanning my cheeks. “You naughty girl,” he whispers with a smirk, sending shivers down my spine.

His lips brush against mine, tantalizingly slowly, and despite wanting nothing more than to deepen the kiss and let him take me right here and now, I pull away.

“I want you, Lorelei,” he whispers against my lips.

I smile triumphantly. “How about you stop kissing me and finish your dinner so we can back to the hotel sooner?”

I turn my attention back to my plate, only for Richard to bring his lips to my ear and squeeze my thigh with one of his large hands, sending a pool of heat to spill at my core. “You tease,” he growls before biting on my earlobe. Thank God we are in a relatively hidden corner of the pub.

With a smirk, I turn toward him once more, gazing back into his eyes through my eyelashes. “You’re the one who started to imagine me naked, might I remind you?”

“Can you blame me?” Comes his playful reply, and this time I know that arousal is not the only thing to blame for the increased beating of my heart.

***

We stumble through the door to our hotel room, our limbs intertwined as we giggle and chase the taste of salt and beer that lingers on our lips. Richard’s hands are tangled in my hair, creating a dozen passion-fuelled knots that he will later disentangle when we will float in the afterglow of our lovemaking. Then, one of his hands trails down the curve of my back to squeeze the flesh of my behind, causing me to whimper against his lips. That familiar heat begins to build deep inside me, and as I reach for the hem of his shirt to caress his skin with my still cold fingers, causing him to groan, I know that same feeling is simmering inside him, fuelling his careful exploration of my body.

Between two languid kisses, I realize that both our coats and my shirt are now lying on the floor, but I cannot recall how or when the garments slipped through my arms, the alcohol and arousal in my veins causing everything but Richard’s overwhelming presence to become a blur. With trembling fingers, I urge him to take off his shirt, then caress his broad chest and feel the heart that, at this moment, seems to beat only for me. Then, Richard leans toward me once more to attach his lips to my neck, closing in on that sweet, sensitive spot below my ear, and when I let my head fall back, the whole room seems to spin around me.

“Richard…” I whine, bringing my hands to hold his head against me and tangling my fingers in the dark waves of his hair.

Smiling against my skin, Richard lowers his hand to unbutton my jeans and hurriedly drags the fabric down my legs before allowing me to do the same with his trousers. Then, leaving one more kiss on my neck, he lifts me into his arms and urges me to wrap my legs around his waist. I moan as his growing arousal presses against my aching core, then again as he sits on the edge of the bed, holding me so that I straddle his lap. My hips roll against him almost of their own accord, and heat pools between my thighs, soaking the lace of my knickers. When I repeat the movement, Richard groans, then mumbles something I can’t quite make out as he reaches for my bra clasp. A shiver runs down my spine as he drags the lace off my body, then gazes at me with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Oh, Lorelei,” he whispers huskily as he covers my breast with one of his large hands, “do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

A shy giggle escapes me, but it soon turns into a low moan as his mouth closes in on my nipple. I’ve never really thought of myself as beautiful, but with Richard? He doesn’t even need to say it; just the way that he looks at me and lavishes every inch of my skin with kisses makes me feel beautiful. Desired.

It makes me feel loved.

Sparks of pleasure burn through my body and settle in my core as he flicks my nipple with the tip of his tongue. I move against him, desperate to alleviate the growing pressure between my thighs; he knows how much I want him—how much I need him—but he merely holds me tight and continues his slow, teasing caresses until I am shivering and whimpering hopelessly in his arms. After what feels like an eternity, as his name falls from my lips in a hoarse, throaty moan, he lowers a hand between our bodies and gently pushes the fabric of my knickers aside to brush my heat.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against my breast as his fingers slide up my folds, “always so wet for me.”

My fingers once more find their way to the back of his head, then tighten around his soft hair as he circles my clit, my “Richard,” a desperate, breathless cry that causes him to smile.

I force myself to gaze back into his deep blue eyes, and the softness I find blazing there takes my breath away. I feel more connected to him than ever before, and as he slides two fingers inside me, I rest my forehead against his and attach our lips, hoping my kiss will be enough to convey those three words I do not yet have the courage to speak.

Richard strokes me gently but with just enough pressure that it sends stars across my vision. As he does so, he finds that sensitive spot inside me and caresses it, each stroke more delicious than the last. My muscles clench around him, begging him not to let go, and I can’t help but rock against him. His own arousal presses into my naked thigh, impossibly warm through his briefs. With a shaking hand, I reach down to slip my hand beneath the fabric to stroke him. His responding moan echoes through the room and causes a new wave of heat to spill from me. Richard’s eyes flutter close, but I continue watching him, mesmerized by the pleasure playing out on his face as I wrap my fingers around him and pull. He is the most handsome man in the world, and words truly can’t describe what it feels like to see him possessed by such a deep yearning for me that his whole body shivers and arches toward me, his muscles tense beneath his burning skin.

“I need you,” I manage to whimper between breathless moans as I sweep my thumb over the head of his member. “I need you inside me.”

Richard’s eyes flutter open, and he offers me a wide smirk that makes my muscles clench around him once more. “I won’t say no to that.”

I giggle as I lean in to press a kiss onto his lips, then whimper as Richard eases his fingers from me. He groans as I move away from him to grab a condom, his intense gaze burning into my back. When I turn back to face him, I meet his eyes and smile softly while slowly dragging my knickers down my legs. He swallows heavily, then stands up to discard his briefs, and I can’t help but lick my lips as I take in the sight of his naked body.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Richard says huskily, offering me a hand as he sits back on the edge of the bed.

After rolling the condom over him, I come astride him once more and he offers me a tender smile as he guides himself toward my opening. I moan softly as he fills me slowly, sending heated tingles up my spine. I can feel him stretching me, but there is no discomfort, and soon I rock my hips, desperate to experience the sinfully sweet pleasure only he can bring me.

I hold onto his broad shoulders as he moves against me, each of his thrusts deep and teasing. Then, he wraps his arms around my waist, hugging me tight against him so that my breasts are pressed flat against his chest. Those familiar knots tighten deep inside me, everything but his deep blue eyes gazing into mine a blur as we share our breath. Each time our thrusts meet, sparks erupt in my core, and I squeeze my thighs against him to alleviate some of the burning pressure that comes with being so close to my release.

But then he stops moving.

“What are you—”

I cling to him as he rises and turns us around to climb into bed, holding me tightly as he moves to rest my head against the pillows. Then, with a playful wink, he takes hold of my legs—which had been wrapped around his waist—and lifts them onto his shoulders. A low deep moan escapes me; the new position sends him deeper inside me than ever before, and my entire body throbs from the intensity of the sensation. Never tearing his eyes from me, Richard presses a tender kiss onto my ankle, then he begins to move, remaining frustratingly slow and careful.

“Are you alright?” he asks breathlessly, and his consideration sends a smile to my lips.

“Oh, yes,” I reply in an equally breathless voice.

His next thrust is hard and fast, and I can’t help but sob from the bliss of it, my hands fisting the sheets as I move against him, meeting him halfway on the road to ecstasy. Through heavy eyes, I stare at his broad chest, covered in a thin layer of sweat, then lift my gaze to his handsome face, which is now marked with a determined frown, his mouth half-open to let out the most beautiful moans. The bed squeaks in time with each powerful thrust, and within no time at all, I feel Richard tense inside me. I, too, am close, and it takes only the lightest brush of his thumb against my clit to shatter me.

My back arches off the bed as I cry out, my core molten and hot as my whole body trembles from the intense pleasure consuming me. A moment later, Richard shudders, crying out my name as he reaches his own peak, then sinks against me, his strong, trembling body crushing me in an oddly reassuring way. Unfortunately, being ever so attentive and thoughtful, Richard quickly reaches between us to pull out and sinks onto the soft mattress beside me.

For a long moment, the room is silent but for our loud, uneven breathing. Then a soft, airy giggle escapes me.

“Fuck, that was … that was amazing.”

Richard’s responding laugh is equally breathless as he turns his head toward me and says, “You’ll be the death of me, Lorelei.”

With a chuckle, I turn onto my side to face him just as he bends down to caress my lips with a gentle kiss. I lift a hand to caress his bearded cheek, the tips of my fingers brushing against the damp hair at his temple. Slowly, Richard pulls away just enough to watch me, his eyes filled with such raw tenderness that I’m now sure the light spinning of the room has much less to do with the alcohol I drank earlier.

“I love it when you do that,” he suddenly murmurs, leaning closer still so that our foreheads touch, my hand still caressing his beard.

“Then that makes two of us,” I reply, a soft smile on my lips.

Reluctantly, Richard shifts away to go to the bathroom. When he crawls back into bed a few moments later, he pulls me tight into his arm and covers us with the duvet. We share myriad languid kisses as I bring my hand to his bearded cheek once more, and slowly, Richard’s eyes flutter close, and a content sigh falls from his lips.

“Good night,” I whisper as I continue to brush my fingers over his cheek. I hesitate at the ensuing silence, but Richard is already asleep, so I merely press a kiss onto the top of his patrician nose and rest my head in the crook of his neck, following him into sleep.

—

Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @mcchiberry @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist or added to future chapters!

[jossambird]

The Scent on your coat P4

Summary: You reflect on your life choices, and despite your wants, Life had other plans for you.

Otto Octavius x F!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: NS/FW Subjects, No Doc in this Chapter (or is there) but building to the next part, mentions of emotional Reader, heartbreak, yearning for things you can’t have.

Ao3 Fic Link for previous parts, or on my masterlist!

-

“I've only ever wanted you.” You repeated into the silence of your apartment, barely listening to the news that played on tv. Images of various villains flittered on the screen, your eyes falling on the one face you couldn’t stop seeing behind your eyelids. You shut the tv off with a huff, eyes watering at the whole mess.

Hands slinging your blanket over your back, you bundled yourself up and sat in bed, pulling your other blanket over your legs and feet. You couldn’t even begin to find the correct words for just how much you had missed Otto.

Even after all this time, Otto remained as handsome as he had been the last time you had seen him all those dreadful months ago. His soft brown hair that shined red in the sunlight, his gorgeous brown eyes that used to always seek you out in a crowd.

You sighed, replaying his words in your mind. Did he mean everything he had said? He had never been a liar, that you knew…

For weeks after his accident, you had thought him dead. For months, you had listened to the radio and new outlets, slandering his work and very career once he had emerged, tentacles and all, turning to a life of crime.

How long had you mourned him, mourned the fragile friendship you had had together, mourned his work but most importantly, mourned your love for him? It had taken weeks, months even, to finally be able to step back into this laboratory and work, and not be pitied by every living soul here.

They had all known of your deep and dark secret, the love you had held so dear for the Scientist, but stayed silent.. all except for one.

Peter Parker. Sweet Peter Parker, always there for you no matter, always asking if you needed help or a shoulder to cry on, always asking how you were holding up with everything.

It had been Peter, of all people, who had saved you from the endless internal darkness that had started to consume you slowly but surely, depression sinking its claws into you and pushing you towards dangerous thoughts.

He, who had asked you if you wanted to go see a movie together. He, who had walked you home every night afterwards, only ever smiling and offering his arm whilst you tried to say it was okay.

He, who had tentatively asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend that one summer night after a quiet walk, knowing full well how your heart held a part of itself for another.

It was he, who had kissed your lips, reassuring you that he understood what it felt like, having already lost the love of his life too.

And so, telling yourself that maybe this was what you needed to finally forget Octavius, you had given him a chance; slowly taking your time together and learning about one another, becoming closer and closer by the passing day.

Peter’s secret identity hadn't been kept from you long after you noticed Spiderman arriving at your Oscorp to walk you home, just like Peter did. He had practically fallen off a building when you asked out loud if he was done stalking you like a creep, his laugh echoing softly in the noisy New York streets.

“Aren’t you afraid a villain will come and kidnap me Pe- Spiderman?” You had asked him, grinning even though your heart clenched at the idea of *one* villain kidnapping you. Thoughts like those were burned and shooed away, trying to focus on the good and kind man that loved you.

“Don’t worry, Ill always protect you Y/N.” He assured you with a whisper, bowing his head as you stepped inside your shared apartment complex.

You had come to love him too, in a way, over time.

Your first time together was the moment you realized your heart was irreparable; Peter’s hands were on your hips, holding you softly as he fucked you but in that moment, another man’s name found itself on your lips, a name all too familiar to you, trying to make its way out and into the air between you. You hadn’t let it, swallowing both it and your shame down, sorrow coursing through you as Peter called out your name.

A few days later, on an early September day, as you turned away from the amazing view from your apartment window, the wind blowing your hair from your face, you had felt it; Nervous energy in the air, shudders wracking your body.

Peter Parker asked you to marry him on the same balcony moments after.

No amount of preparation would have ever prepared you for the absolute heartbreak you had felt as the man before you wore bruises shaped like claws, deep cuts and barely fading scars, crooked grin smiling up at you with a ring in hand, waiting.

“I know I’m not him, and you aren’t her, but I'd like to love you for the rest of my life.”

You had sobbed under the loud noise of the shower until the water turned cold, and after.

Though now, sitting here alone in your living room, you wondered why life sought to hurt you so.

Soon you would be married to a sweet man who loved you, adored you, and all fantasies of the tall Doctor Octavius would have to be forgotten and erased.

You sighed again, burying your face into your blanketed hands, trying to will yourself to stop feeling this way. Peter deserved someone who loved him with all their heart, not someone who craved another and had let said man eat them out in their previous work place.

A knock sounded at your front door and you frowned, standing, wrapped in your blankets still, to answer.

Would it be possible… that he would come? Would he knock on the door, or simply open it, hands seeking you out and untying your robe, touching what he had already accidentally claimed?

As you turned the handle and opened the door, your inner shame grew, eyes landing on the smiling face of your best friend Allie.

“Thought Id come see how the bride-to-be was feeling! How- Oh my god Y/N what's wrong?” Allie said in a rush as she saw tears form in your beautiful eyes, stepping inside in a hurry to comfort you. You could barely let out a sob, let alone words, arms wrapping around the woman.

“Y/N, babydoll, what's going on? You can talk to me, you know that right? Nothing leaves this room, only between you and me.” Your best friend whispered, holding you tightly.

She pulled away, arms still wrapped around you but just enough to see your face, and you knew she had figured it out, knew she had pieced it together. “Oh, Y/N… It’ll be okay, it’ll go away.”

What Allie failed to know though, was that you didn’t want it to go away, still feeling his soft but firm fingers holding your thighs and ankles, kisses laid against your skin.

You didn’t want your love for Otto Octavius to disappear, just like the words of love and adoration groaned along your thighs and core, expressive brown eyes seeking yours out in desperation. Desperate for what, you still didn’t know, but it made your heart race, thinking that the renowned Doctor Octavius and villain Doctor Octopus wanted to see you reach ecstasy by his hand and his alone, desperate for only his name to find itself on your tongue.

And you felt even more horrible for it.

*

Allie held you close, blankets wrapped around the both of you as she flicked through channels on TV.

“Want to talk about it?” She whispered, eyes still trailed on the TV but you knew her attention was solely on you.

What was there to say in a situation like this?

“No.” You croaked out, snuggling closer against her in an effort to forget everything, forget the outside world, forget the fact that the very man you wanted most of all was also somewhere out there. You weren’t surprised when Allie sighed, the sound of the TV shutting off. She laid down beside you, worried eyes gazing back at you.

“You know, it's not…” Allie paused, breath caught in her throat at the sight of you.

“It's not abnormal for marriages to be cancelled.” She continued, her eyes flickering over your face for a sign that you were understanding her meaning. You could barely breathe as she waited, the implication of her words sounding out.

“Allie thats- Peter, he-“ you tried, heart breaking at the idea of telling Peter you could no longer marry him. Allie, the beautiful thing she was, faked a gag and rose up, sitting beside you.

“Y/N, forget Pete for the moment okay? He doesn’t exist right here, right now.” She started, turning back towards your surprised visage with a finger pointed at you.

“I will always be here for you. I know you aren’t happy… I just want you to know that it’s never too late to cancel anything.”

You cried that night, silently into your pillow, never acknowledging the words she had spoken. Allie remained with you for the next few days, never uttering another word of the subject she had begun, helping you instead prepare for your wedding.

That night, you dreamt of large hands pulling you close and whispers of love pressed against your breast, heartbeat steady as he asked the one thing you could never lie about:

“Do you love me, Y/N? Me, and only me?” He whispered, lips moving against your collarbone, heated kisses following his words.

“I've only ever loved you.” You whispered back and watched the Otto before you smile, his hold turning bruising.

*

New York, even at night, was never silent. Noises could be heard everywhere and anywhere, people out and about, some heading home and some heading out.

Allie liked the hustle and bustle of the town, always eager to find a new Hole-in-the-wall type of bar or restaurant to get drunk in, and tonight, after saying she wanted to make you feel better with sushi, hadn’t been any different. She hummed under her breath and dutifully followed you back to your apartment, the both of you enjoying each other’s presence.

Convenience store bags in hand, you looked back at Allie as she wobbled, her steps mismatched, a half empty beer can in hand.

“Come on Al, we're almost there!” You laughed, watching her try to Hopscotch along the street. She stopped, eyes wide and smile even wider, throwing the beer can into the air and away from the both of you, making you cringe as it hit the ground.

“Oh my god- Was that a laugh!?” She yelled happily, the smell of beer and sake wafting off of her as she ran up beside you and held you close, arms trapped in her hold. You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend, mouth opening to chastise her for littering but you didn’t have the time; a faint melody met both your ears and Allie beamed, disentangling herself from you. You barely had time to register what song it was before she leaned away, breathing in sharply and letting loose.

“You should have bought her flowers!” She sang out, words echoing in the streets around you. Sang was perhaps too kind of a word though, as she scratchily belted out Bruno Mars lyrics.

“Shh! Oh my god Allie, shhhhhhh! Shut up!” You tried, running after her as she continued back to your apartment complex, uncaring of the people passing you by.

“You should’ve held her hand! Should’ve given her all your hours!” You barely made it in time to her, free hand rising to try and quiet her, heart racing as you imagined someone hearing-

“But now she’s marrying another man!”

Her words felt like a bath of freezing cold water, any remnants of alcohol in your system instantly evaporating.

She was right. You were, and no matter what fantasies and dreams you liked to imagine, you knew that life couldn’t continue like this, childishly hoping and wishing for another man to come sweep you up.

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: Never Have I Ever!

Date video was published: 01/17/2020 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 406

The first video of 2020! A nice 'easy' video for the start of the year. Also the first story-type video for Phil since coming out (not counting the draw my life).

0:00 - love that his painting from Trying To Follow A Festive Bob Ross Tutorial! is now in the background. also he turned on the lava lamp too late...it’s doing nothing in this video

0:02 - why did he say “period” so weirdly

0:06 - he did post several of those

0:16 - love the running “Phil.exe” annotation joke. also, now he’s done the Never Have I Ever concept a lot with his Shorts videos

0:35 - that “naked” was very intense

0:48 - a chance to tell stories he couldn’t tell pre-coming-out

0:56 - that is very censored... “and no comment” yeah don’t think I want to know 😳

1:10 - um. well this is a start. somewhat surprised he left one in that he skipped over

1:14 - love the giant “LIES”

1:24 - why is he sharing so much about his wedgie issues 😂

1:44 - “self butt fondler” sure

1:55 - Phil is amused by these questions...also he didn’t give an answer to that one, lol

2:00 - nooooo, dapg clips make me sad

2:13 - can’t believe he didn’t eat a bug ever as a child

2:17 - does it? my first assumption would just be like, colored it with a bath bomb or something. but either way, we see where Phil’s mind is...

2:30 - why is there so much pee

2:52 - “that’s a dodgy one to admit to...” no shit

2:54 - let me tell you...my shock the first time I watched this, when Phil started a story for this question

3:20 - the build up to the story is great

3:37 - love the “I’m gay” as the first thing

3:45 - I mean...I guess that is one way to get out of the situation. also was saying “tongue session” necessary 👀

4:07 - again...just didn’t answer the question. he only answers about every-other-one 😂

4:09 - but Dan has

4:28 - he is very consistent on that

4:43 - someone always takes it too far

4:48 - he promoed the video with this photo of course

4:59 - what does that even mean. I’m glad Phil can laugh about it now

5:20 - I don’t think I would want to see angry intense Phil

5:46 - love that you can see Phil remembering things

5:51 - poor Kath, lol

6:07 - radio show! also, Phil knowing he can just find a clip of that immediately

6:30 - Kath with the solid advice and the random questions

6:50 - yeah I’m with Phil here; can’t go too long without brushing my teeth or I feel gross

6:57 - ...did he need to say it like that

7:05 - still can’t believe his parents let him walk around with that hair

7:16 - that is a very loud animal noise, yikes

7:27 - this is such a Phil reason to get kicked out of a bar

7:39 - Phil really does like boats it seems

7:53 - good advice there from Phil

7:59 - “who wrote this, an alien?” 😂

8:08 - they scare me slightly too...maybe not for that specific reason

8:21 - the targeted ads really know him, haha

8:32 - love his reaction to that

8:40 - aww, nice but gullible Phil

9:06 - agree about the wording; he is certainly giggling a lot at that though

9:18 - “I got to talk about pee a lot” priorities?

9:40 - the endscreen on this one is very long

I guess my summary of this video could just be “why, Phil?!” It is a very amusing one and I like hearing new Phil stories that he hadn’t told before.

DNP were both back in London for the New Year (1, 2) and then had a relaxing early January (1, 2, 3, 4, 5), as usual. They also went to a VR bar with Martyn and Cornelia (1, 2, 3, 4). When Phil filmed and posted this video, he was home by himself. This is when Dan was in LA for mysterious meeting reasons (1, 2). They did talk a bit in one of the stereo shows that it was for potential joint projects.

[from-the-dark-past]

Interview with Anders Ohlin in The Black Metal Murders: English translation

Translator’s note: Black metal-morden (English: The Black Metal Murders) is a radio documentary from 2017 produced by Radio Sweden (download). It’s about Mayhem and the Norwegian black metal scene in the ‘90s and contains interviews with Jørn “Necrobutcher” Stubberud, Kjetil Manheim, Eirik “Messiah” Norheim and Anders Ohlin (Pelle Ohlin’s younger brother). 

Here, I’ve translated the parts where Anders Ohlin speaks into English (from Swedish). I’ve added time-stamps and short descriptions for the different sections of the interview. 

I am working on translating the interviews with Necrobutcher, Manheim and Messiah and will post them soon. 

1:51 - 6:35 [Talking about him and Pelle getting into extreme metal]

Anders: We’d started listening to hard rock and it was… We’d, like, worked through all of those… Judas Priest and Iron Maiden. 

Narrator: It’s the mid-1980s in Västerhaninge, a suburb of Stockholm. Pelle Ohlin lives here. He plays in the extreme metal band Morbid and his stage name is Dead. Pelle has introduced his five-years-younger brother to hard rock. Together, they’ve worked through all of the main bands. 

Anders: And you, like, hungered for this… This Other. 

Narrator: The ‘Other’ that younger brother Anders is talking about is extreme metal; music that is faster, darker and harder. A progression of hard rock. Music that isn’t easy to get your hands on at this time. Anders is in his early teens and has gotten his first girlfriend. 

Anders: It was my first relationship and it was super-exciting, and I was at her house, she lived in Jordbro, which is, like, the neighbouring suburb. 

Narrator: Anders’ girlfriend’s older sister has an LP that Anders simply must show his older brother Pelle. 

Anders: It was, like, you knew it was good music, and it was that Destruction record. 

Narrator: Anders sees the German death metal band Destruction’s cover and it’s enough for him to understand that this must be good music. [...] 

Anders: This. This here isn’t Judas Priest and it isn’t Iron Maiden; it’s something else. I’ve got show this fucking record to Pelle. 

Narrator: Anders nags [his girlfriend’s older sister] to borrow the LP. He’s allowed to, but only for the day, so he bikes home in the rain from Jordbro to Västerhaninge as quickly as he can. 

Anders: And it was like [excited noise], like a cartoon; the evil wolf, their eyes bulge out and we both ran -- because we hadn’t heard the LP, only seen the cover -- ran to the record player och then Mom walks up and is like: ‘Stop! You’re forbidden from using the gramophone.’ And it was like, fucking hell, is it going to die here and then we explained to Mom -- ‘This is an extreme record and we’ve borrowed it for the day and it’s going back tomorrow,’ -- and Mom was super-harsh and was like: ‘It doesn’t matter. [...]’ And then we started negotiating and agreed that we could record the LP onto cassette [because you don’t need volume for that]. So, it was on full-blast the entire night and we recorded it and stood bent over the record scratches and were like,‘Shit, this is good stuff’. 

Narrator: Pelles hard rock style stands out against the usual sweatpant-Bagheera-jacket [style], not least the music. 

Anders: The ideals that existed at that time were that you were supposed to look like Arnold Schwarzenegger, which neither he nor I did [laughs]. You were supposed to be handsome and cool and have some fucking helipad on your head. 

Translator’s note: Anders is talking about a flat-top haircut commonly referred to as a ‘helikopterplattafrisyr’ -- helipad haircut -- in Sweden. Think H.R. Haldeman. I’m not sure what the English term for this haircut is. 

Narrator: Anders and Pelle are apart of a small subculture; extreme metal, with subgenres such as trash metal, death metal and black metal, which provokes with its satanic and morbid symbols. Pelle’s band Morbid pushes the limits of what music can sound like. With his stage-name Dead, Pelle sings on the demo December Moon. The new subculture is not embraced by the adult world. 

Anders: Like, we faced this fucking cultural oppression as hardrockers. It was that time-period… And especially if you wanted to do something that was worse than hard rock; it was completely judged. 

14:52 - 15:53 [Talking about Pelle being bullied] 

Anders: He was beaten at school and to such an extent that he actually died for a while, or however you put it. 

Narrator: There’s an explanation to Pelle’s obsession with death. At 13, he was bullied at school and once, he was beaten so badly that his spleen burst. Pelle’s brother Anders Ohlin tells the story.

Anders: He was beaten to death and had some near-death experience as he was laying in the hospital and he kept coming back to that all the time, and I think you can see that as some sort of theme in his songs too. Like, it’s always about the fact that he was actually there and touched something that he doesn’t know what it is, and that was the engine in all that. He was definitely [at the bottom of the pecking order] at school, precisely because he was a bit… He had his special... his special style and was, like, uncompromising, and that was what singled him out, I’d say, markedly from other teenagers. 

18:07 - 18:30 [Talking about Pelle’s depression]

Anders: He would neglect to eat, just to get a cassette tape out or arrange a gig somewhere. 

Narrator: Anders Ohlin, Pelle’s brother. 

Anders: To be a bit harsh, I think that the others gave up at some point. And that’s my personal interpretation. That he suddenly turns around and notices that he hasn’t got the gang with him. And I think that destroyed him. 

21:50 - 22:30 [Talking about Pelle’s suicide] 

Anders: At first, I was actually really pissed at him… Or, like, angry, enraged. I thought that he’d abandoned us -- which he has. That it was so shitty of him; to just take off and leave this big fucking abscess to the rest of us that just kept growing and growing as the years passed. 

Narrator: Christmases become especially painful for the Ohlin family, because that was the time Pelle usually came home. 

Anders: No one felt good on Christmas Eve. It was like a fucking ghost all Christmas. Brutal. So, I remember that I couldn’t celebrate Christmas at all for a very long time. 

1:06:39 - 1:09:31 [Talking about how he and Pelle’s Swedish friends remember him and his life today]

Anders: All of his Swedish friends see him as this exuberantly happy guy that spews ideas and is funny and has a sense of humor and stuff. Then, it’s like a line is drawn when he goes to Norway and they see him as introverted and mysterious and, like, difficult. And that’s two opposite images. 

Narrator: The Pelle Myth is associated with a lot of darkness and death but that’s not how his brother Anders and Pelle’s Swedish friends remember him.  

Anders: I think that’s been the devastating part, but it, like, helped him build… strengthen that myth. It’s hard being that funny dude and saying that you’re, like, Satan. It’s hard, it becomes, like, silly. 

Narrator: Anders is often reminded of Pelle. Usually because of happy memories but also because of that image that he is fighting to remove; the image that Øystein took of Pelle’s corpse which spread because it became the album cover of a Mayhem bootleg, Dawn of the Black Hearts. The image lives its own life on the internet. 

Anders: It’s difficult. It’s very difficult. 

Narrator: Pelle’s fans often want to become Facebook friends with Anders; he receives 3-5 friend requests per day. Sometimes, the people sending the friend requests have themselves shared the image on their social channels. 

Anders: You say you want to be my friend yet you have an image of my brother from when he’s just killed himself and like… body parts all over the wall. Would you think it was okay if I had an image of your brother like that? ‘What,’ they excuse themselves. ‘Oh, fuck, I’d forgotten that I had that image, that’s… Of course, I’ll remove it and I’m ashamed.’ 

Narrator: When Anders asks people to remove the image, most do. 

Anders: I’m terrified for when my children will start to Google those images… Øystein’s parents inherited the rights after Øystein died and [Øystein’s dad] has destroyed the images and I’ve received the rights, gotten to take over the rights from Øystein’s dad, so if anyone uses them in any form is printed media, I can sue the shit out of them. 

Narrator: It’s a small comfort every time one of Pelle’s fans tells Anders how much Pelle means. 

Anders: Most often, they have some story. They tell me how they’ve had a tough period in life and how they’ve, like, really been at a crossroads or something and feel that they received guidance from Pelle’s music. That warms -- That makes you happy. That really warms your heart. 

Narrator: Pelle’s grave is well-visited and every now and then, there’s a handwritten letter or a box of snus by it. 

[winterscaptain]

tell.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!

words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events

summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders. 

Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.

You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast. 

Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas. 

You squint at him. “Am I early?”

He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.” 

“Of course. I wanted -” 

Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!” 

You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile. 

“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king. 

Or, rather, two kings. 

“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?” 

His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.” 

Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.

Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.” 

“Really? That sounds like so much fun.” 

What you mean is, What, with your bad back? 

“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say - 

Yep. I feel like shit. 

“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?” 

You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs. 

So much for grown-up plans...

+++

You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in. 

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket. 

He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.” 

That’s not a good tone. 

Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth. 

“Did they raise the terror alert?”

Shit. 

“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -” 

With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods. 

You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom. 

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.” 

You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour. 

Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line. 

+++

Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess. 

You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.” 

Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.” 

The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes. 

“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.” 

+++

When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek. 

“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own. 

“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.” 

“Understandable.” 

His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”

JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit. 

+++

“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up. 

Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?” 

“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.” 

That doesn’t make much sense. 

You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?” 

“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes. 

Of course they did. 

“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth. 

“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you. 

“So why are we here now?” Dave asks. 

“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.” 

Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them? 

“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.” 

Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?” 

“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds. 

+++

As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible. 

Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.” 

JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”

“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.” 

That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway.  “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”

Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.” 

They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side. 

You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered. 

JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.” 

“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.” 

You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.  

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.” 

You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer. 

When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment. 

Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.” 

“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.” 

Of course he did. 

“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond. 

You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too. 

“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.” 

Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.” 

Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?” 

“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.” 

You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.” 

Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.” 

Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.” 

Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?” 

She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.” 

And so it begins. 

+++

“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?” 

You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.” 

Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything. 

“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone. 

Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!

“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?” 

The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.” 

Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.” 

You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself. 

A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder. 

“I can't do that. I need the leverage.” 

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.” 

You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth. 

A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line. 

“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up. 

Shit. 

+++

“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.” 

The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension. 

“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?” 

You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.” 

“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath. 

When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise. 

But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!

You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss. 

+++

With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related. 

While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon. 

“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.” 

Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face. 

“Is she…” 

You get closer, looking up at the monitor. 

“...putting on lipstick?” 

You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.” 

You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek. 

“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic. 

The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second. 

Well, that couldn’t have been any worse. 

You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing. 

+++

Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.” 

At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.” 

The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.” 

Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.

“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.” 

Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.” 

“Right.” 

Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful. 

Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?” 

The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.” 

Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.” 

Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole. 

Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you. 

I’m okay. 

He nods as Erin speaks again. 

“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best. 

Dave responds quickly. “Yes.” 

Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.” 

You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance. 

“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”

+++

“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.” 

“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.” 

He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone. 

“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...” 

You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?” 

It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor. 

“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?” 

“Anything.” 

“Stay here.” 

+++

You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone. 

Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot. 

Will.

+++

You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers. 

The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence. 

JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”

You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed. 

His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”

+++

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt. 

Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.

He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive. 

Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away. 

His ear…

“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once. 

He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”

“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again. 

He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you. 

“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”

With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”

You roll your eyes. 

“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you. 

With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still. 

The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you. 

+++

Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders. 

“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?” 

“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.” 

He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.” 

+++

You pull your phone from your pocket. 

She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jess.” 

“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”

With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.” 

“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?” 

“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?” 

She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.” 

“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle. 

“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?” 

“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”

“ - Of course.” 

+++

You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much. 

Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.” 

“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.” 

Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.” 

Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad? 

It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind. 

Evil twin, eviler twin. 

You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances. 

Yeah, that one was pretty bad. 

“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.” 

Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.” 

Derek’s brow pinches. “What?” 

“All of the details are a part of their story.” 

She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you. 

Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script. 

Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.” 

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous. 

Now who sounds like Spencer?

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”

Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.” 

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.” 

Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy. 

She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.” 

Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little. 

In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion. 

“Where were the most casualties?” 

“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.” 

Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”

Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave. 

Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.” 

+++

Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life. 

You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.  

+++

The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.” 

“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through. 

“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”

There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.” 

He’d like to think he’s made of steel. 

Sometimes he is. 

“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?” 

“They're 3 minutes away.” 

“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.

He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.” 

Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?” 

“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist. 

“Promise?” 

His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.” 

You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go. 

+++

You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air. 

Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock. 

Could take an eye out, with that thing.

You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron. 

Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him. 

You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet. 

Today is not that day. 

Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?” 

He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”

+++

Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing. 

With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you. 

+++

You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember. 

What were we planning to do today?

A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.

Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck. 

They were house-hunting this morning. 

Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.” 

They were at a convention this morning. 

Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.

She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?” 

You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.” 

“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little. 

Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they’ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home. 

“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree. 

There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs. 

“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips. 

You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around. 

Don’t push it.  

“I just thought you'd like to know that.” 

The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.” 

She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list. 

That’s a problem for another time. 

You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things. 

The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages. 

The second - you’ll never have to think about her again. 

The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you. 

She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him. 

“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.” 

Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.” 

“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.” 

Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display. 

“Hear that? We’re in.” 

+++

When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket. 

You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute. 

Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.” 

You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.

“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.” 

“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?” 

With a huff - “No.” 

He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.” 

You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep. 

His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat. 

Sleep takes him rapidly after that. 

+++

As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”

“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet. 

“Mhmm.”

“Only if it’s you.”

There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”

You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”

Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction. 

Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.

You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything. 

+++

Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening. 

As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other. 

You can just… be. 

+++

Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks. 

When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!” 

Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.

Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh? 

Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile. 

When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?” 

“God only knows.” 

Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds. 

“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.” 

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way. 

You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous. 

He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…

He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over. 

You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?” 

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.” 

There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear. 

She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!” 

She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief. 

Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once. 

+++

As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard. 

You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation. 

Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.

Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.” 

He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?” 

“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles. 

It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you. 

You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.  

“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”

He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”

+++

“I bet they’re into like…tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone. 

Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive. 

“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.” 

He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation. 

“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”

+++

“What do you think they’ve got so far?” 

He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.” 

“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?” 

He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.” 

That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?” 

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.” 

“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.” 

“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Shit.” 

You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family. 

“Hey.” 

You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?�� 

“What’s my tell?” 

The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.” 

He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?” 

“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.” 

“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor. 

“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.” 

You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.” 

“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -” 

“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.” 

You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?” 

“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.” 

It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?” 

He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face. 

You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.” 

He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself. 

“I said, you wish.” 

You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.” 

+++

tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @bwbatta @wakatoshislover @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw  @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bispences @thebivirgin

[twotapbuz]

This fic was inspired by this post by @swampythesweetsketch. I’ll post the fics for the rest of 1010 as soon as I finish them.

You were hired to be a personal bodyguard for Eloni

Along with the standard supplies(1010-themed uniform, flashlight, pepper spray, body camera), you were given a watch that would alert you to Eloni’s location whenever he was in trouble

This along with the job wouldn’t be out of the ordinary if it weren’t for the fact that neither of the other members of 1010 had personal bodyguards

You would soon learn why after your fourth concert

You had been approached by two lost fans that were looking for the meet & greet table when your watch suddenly began to beep rapidly. “Eloni must be in trouble,” you thought as you excused yourself from the duo and quickly hurried to the idol’s location. Eloni had somehow gotten to an alley near the venue. You weren’t really sure what to expect. Had a fan tried to kidnap him? You had heard stories from other security staff about crazy fangirls trying to take them or at least pieces of them. You reached the alley and found Eloni being hoisted by a group.

“Freeze!” you said while holding up your pepper spray. This diverted the group and they looked at you. “Drop the robot, now.”

“And if we don’t?” mockingly replied one of the “fans”.

“I’ll send this video to Neon J and have you banned from any future 1010 events.” you tapped your body camera. The threat of not seeing “the loves of their lives” caused the group to practically drop Eloni and they all scattered.

“Thank you.” Eloni got up. “You’re the first guard to catch them before they threw me into the trash”

“No problem, just stay away from alleyways.” you began to write an email, informing Neon J that Eloni had been safely retrieved. “ We wouldn’t want to-wait... the trash?” you stopped and looked up at him.

“Yeah, they usually throw me into the trash. One time I got thrown into a nearby pond.” Eloni admitted, embarrassed.

“And how often does this happen?”

“Around every other concert.” Eloni began to lean on the alley wall

“Yeesh, no wonder Eloni needs a personal guard,” you thought. “Wow. I knew the fans were a bit crazy, but I didn’t think they would go this far.” you tried to pick out your words carefully, trying and failing to not upset the robot.

“I just don’t understand why they hate me so much?” Tears began to fall down Eloni’s face. you froze, unsure what to do, before moving to comfort him.

“Hey, I’m um really sorry about what’s happening to you… if you want, I could maybe give you some advice?”

“Really?”

“Yeah” you looked at your watch. “We should head back to the venue, Neon J is worried about you.” Eloni wiped the tears off his face and began to walk beside you

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s not a problem.”

You unofficially become Eloni’s PR Manager:

After that moment, you would help Eloni with his image before every event(it was the only time you would see each other as you had no reason to be near Barraca Mansion, and giving Eloni your phone number would be unprofessional).

“You’re supposed to be the funny guy of the group, right?” Eloni nodded. “Well, give me a joke. Let’s see what you got.”

“Ok. What did the fish say when he swam into a wall? Dam.” Eloni shot finger guns at you. You stared at him. “Why do fish live in saltwater? Pepperwater makes them sneeze!” Eloni said, less confident.

“...I see. In the nicest way I can say this, you need new material, Eloni.”

“What? But I spent hours researching jokes on the internet!”

“That’s the problem. Everybody has heard of these jokes. If you want to be funny, you gotta be original. Here.” you handed Eloni a piece of paper. “There’s this restaurant in Dream Cast called The Mind Palace that hosts comedy hours every Saturday at 7 pm. I was going to go, but something came up, so you can have my ticket.”

“Really? Thanks!” Eloni smiled

-----------

“So, how was the show?” It was the Monday after the show and you were curious to hear Eloni’s new material.

“It was great! They’re definitely gonna love my new material!” Eloni pulled out his phone and began to show you a video. It was 1010 doing a tour around Vinyl City. Eloni paused the video and pointed at himself. He was dabbing. Between the Eloni in the video dabbing and real-life Eloni looking so proud, you couldn’t help but chuckle and this adorably dorky display. Eloni liked your laugh.

While the new material definitely got Eloni some fans, it still wasn’t enough. So you began to inquire about some of his hobbies

“Another way to get people to like you is to seem relatable. Do you have any hobbies?” You asked

“I bake in my spare time”

“Perfect! We can make a YouTube account and post some of your recipes there. Cooking channels are very popular, I even follow some myself.”

Your advice ends up working and Eloni begins to have his own fan club

He’s given the same love that his brothers are.

You’d think this would be the end of your job, afterall, you were hired to keep Eloni safe from angry fans, but now they all love him.

Instead, the lack of necessity for your job is strangely never brought up by Neon J and you continue business as usual.

You’ve got a crush on Eloni:

You recognize that you’ve got a crush immediately

Ever since Eloni became popular, the two of you’ve had fewer opportunities to talk to each other as he was constantly approached by fans

Having to stand by and watch Eloni be constantly flirted with made it pretty easy to realize your feelings

You decide to ignore these feelings

After all, your relationship was purely professional

Ok maybe all those times you accompanied him all over Vinyl City were just excuses to hang out, but still, your relationship was professional 

And his number was saved in your personal phone and you two often texted each other 

Even if your relationship was more than professional, Eloni had a lot more choices than you and you didn’t want to ruin what you had

Eloni realizes he’s got a crush:

It first started when he saw a stage technician flirting with you. Eloni got annoyed by this, but he didn’t know why.

It took a while for Eloni to realize his feelings. He at first mistook his crush as just being glad that you were his friend

Eloni also began to think about you a lot. Not just about your advice, but he also began to be reminded of you wherever he went.

It wasn’t until the middle of a baking stream that he realized that he had a crush on you

Eloni tries to flirt with you:

Attempt #1, the 1010 style:

Eloni decided to make his move. 

“Hey, Y/N!” You turned around to face the green robot. “Have you thought of joining 1010? Cause you're definitely a ten out of ten.”

“That was a really good one! You should definitely use that during the concert.” You replied, unable to tell the difference between Eloni asking if his lines were good and him flirting with you. Eloni hid his disappointment, but I guess that’s what happens when you use someone as practice for your pickup lines.

Attempt #2, the sweet way:

Eloni decided to take a more “traditional” route by giving you a box of homemade chocolate. And by giving you a box of chocolate, he would place it on top of your locker and would tell you it was him when you opened it.

Eloni waited for you to show up, but you never did. He was about to search for you when he was suddenly stopped by Neon J.

“Troop, this is Emiro.” Neon J gestures to the robot next to him, “He’ll be your bodyguard for tonight.”

“What happened to Y/N?”

“Y/n had an allergic reaction to something they had been eating. Thankfully, they had an epipen on them, but they're taking the rest of the day off.” With that, Neon J left Eloni with the realization that you were probably allergic to the chocolate he made. He was definitely not telling you that he made it.

Attempt #3, third times the charm:

This time, the rest of 1010 decided to devise a plan to help their brother. 

They knew Eloni would probably never confess outrightly and while his feelings for you were obvious to Neon J and them, it would take a bit more effort for you to notice.

NSR was hosting a party on the anniversary of the company's creation. And with parties came a lot of security.

You and several other members were assigned to go undercover as party guests and report anything suspicious

This meant that instead of your usual attire, you wore a dress/suit 

You still had your watch(the Eloni signal) with you as it also doubled as a radio that you could use to notify staff of suspicious activity

You had been casually chatting with other NSR staff when your watch had started to beep rapidly

Eloni was in trouble

You immediately rushed off to find him, it had been months since he last needed to signal you so it must’ve been bad

You turned around the corner to where Eloni was, only to be met with Haym.

“Haym?”

“Oh hey Y/N! How's it going?”

“Hello, Haym. I’m sorry, but I can’t really talk right now. I’m looking for Eloni, but my watch says he’s right here.”

“Don’t worry, I know where he is!” Haym proceeded to push you into a nearby room. You try to open the door only to find that it was locked. You tried to call someone on your watch, but it was gone. Haym must’ve taken when he pushed you.

“Haym, what the hell is going on! Let me out!” You said while banging on the door. He was kinda your boss, but you had a much more casual relationship with the other members of 1010.

“Y/N?” A voice said behind you. You turned around only to find Eloni. You could tell because of the green eyes and cheeks, which dimly lit the darkroom.

“Eloni? Is that you?” You couldn’t really tell due to how dark it was.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good. Do you happen to know why Haym locked us into this room?”

“Well, my brothers thought it would be funny if….” Eloni hesitated.

“Please tell me this isn’t some messed up version of seven minutes in heaven.”

“What, nonono!” Eloni’s fans began to whir loudly

“Right, sorry. Not like I’d have a chance anyway,” you mumbled that last part 

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Well it’s just you're a famous idol and you’ve got a lot of fans, you know?

“Who cares if I’m famous! That doesn’t make you any less incredible than you are. You’ve made me so happy and you helped me become popular! You were my first fan and I would love to go on a date with you! Eloni froze after realizing what he said.

“Wait, you like me?”

“Yeah”, Eloni blushed, I have for a while. I understand if you want to forget that this happened. I’m really sorry and I-“ 

You cut Eloni off with a kiss.

“Don’t worry. I feel the same way.”

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

“I’m going to the roof to stargaze. Would you like to join me?” Eloni asked. You had managed to unlock the door, and by unlock, you kicked the door open.

“Well I’m supposed to be out on the lookout for suspicious people,” Eloni’s face began to slightly falter. “But, my main objective is to keep you safe, so It’s best if I go with you. After all, you know how crazy fans can get.” With that, the two of you headed towards the roof. 

“Well, that was really cheesy,” Zimelu said, peering his head behind a corner, before getting smacked by Rin. 

[blonde-freckles]

And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70

He can feel the building begin to shake under his feet before it comes down. He only has a split second to dive under the closest table, with barely a moment to check his surroundings before it happens. The room shakes, windows rattling as the walls come crumbling down around him. It’s all a blur, thick dust clouding his vision. He can hear the screams echoing out across the building before it falls to silence, he’s trapped encased in rubble and dust. He hears the faint squeak of his radio struggling to pick up a channel through the collapse.

He can feel the panic starting to crawl up his lungs as he shifts his weight, so he's no longer holding it all on his knees.

He’s half way through calling in his location when Hailey’s voice cuts off the radio. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What the hell Jay? I thought you were waiting.” He can hear the desperation in her voice as he squeezes his eyes shut trying to control his breathing.

“I’m okay...really, it’s barely a scratch. I’m just a little stuck right now.” He lets out a shaky breath before pulling the radio close to himself, he’s not sure who’s he’s trying to convince, himself or Hailey. “I thought...I thought I could talk him out of it.”

He really thought he could. He thought he had this. There was something about military cases that stirred something up in him, something no amount of hour sin therapy could ever fix. His need to help his brothers. The belief that what they’d seen bonded them in a way that would never be able to be broken, and no matter how many times he got burnt by this belief he never gave up trying.

The radio falls silent but he knows she’s there, he can hear her quiet breaths through the radio. “Fire is on the way Jay.” Her voice is quiet and controlled and in full work mode but all Jay can hear is her quiet breathing. This morning he’d spent the first few minutes of his day just watching her breathe, his arms wrapped so tightly around her, their legs tangled under the soft white sheets as the sunlight filtered through. Their warm little bubble, so safe and secure.

“Help...” A quiet voice breaks out drawing Jay's attention, it’s faint but he can hear it. “Help me please...”

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to work out the direction the pleas for help are coming from. He makes out a small gap in the distruction where the light is filtering in, carefully he reattaches his radio to his duty rig, shuffling down on his stomach, he pulls himself forward through the gap.

A steel beam lays across an elderly gentleman's legs, he looks late 70s maybe, with light grey hair now covered in dust, his hands holding tightly around the beam desperately pushing against it.

“Sir...” Jay jumps into action, crawling faster as he makes his way through the gap. “Sir are you all right?”

His brain kicks into work mode, shutting off any lingering thoughts on not making it out of here alive as he assesses this situation. The mans bleeding pretty heavily, his legs crushed on the beam that might be the only thing stopping him from bleeding out. It’s far too heavy for Jay to lift or even try to shift, instead he manages to use his belt as a makeshift tourniquet.

He calls through the radio, listening intently as Brett comes over the air waves to get an idea of the gentleman’s injuries. When Jay does manage to finally slow the bleeding the radio crackles back to silence and Jay looks down at his blood stained hands, wiping them on his jeans in the hopes the gentleman won’t see just how much there is as he sits beside him.

“You’re a detective you say?”

“Yes...erm sorry I never got your name.”

“Arthur Brady...I would say nice to meet you but...” The man half chuckles as Jay gives him a short nod wondering how he could be so chipper in a moment like this, surely he can feel the extent of his injuries, even if he can't he can definitely see the severity of the situation.

“Whatever you do Jay keep him talking until we get there.”

Bretts words echo in his mind.

“Arthur...Arthur talk to me...tell me what brought you here today.”

Time seems to tick by slowly, the faint crackle of Jays radio fading in and out every so often. Fire had arrived, but it was gonna be a long wait until they could get to them. The building was not on steady ground and the aim was to get as many people out alive as possible, however long that took. Hailey's voice had only come through the radio once more in that time, just to say the bomber's body had been pulled from the wreckage near the exit...he hadn’t made it. In the meantime Jay continues to probe Arthur with more questions in the hope it will keep him awake, but he’s also glad for the distraction that it provides him. Sitting still, having nothing to do...that’s never been Jay's speed. He learns that Arthur was at the bank to get some cash out for his granddaughters 21s birthday, he has two daughters and a son and 6 grandchildren. He was a wedding photographer for 47 years before he retired 10 years ago.

“My wife Katherine...oh she’s beautiful. You know we’ve been married 53 years this year..." Arthur explains as he pulls a worn leather wallet from his top pocket, handing it over. Jay could see the old photo inside, it’s slightly faded but he can make out the image of a bride on her wedding day, the vail thrown back over her hair to reveal her smiling brightly at someone behind the camera.

"So what's the secret to making it work?" Jay questions, his gaze falling back to his own phone and the photo of Hailey that lights up his background. He’d dragged her along on a hike a while back, with the promise of getting doughnuts after. She’d been laughing at something he’d said as the sun went down behind her, making her blonde curls glow and he’d snapped the pic before she’d had a chance to protest.

"Marry your best friend. Marry someone you can laugh with. The kind of laugh that makes your belly ache, and your nose snort. Marriage is hard. Life is harder. There are days when you'll wanna walk but as long as your relationship is buried deep in friendship you'll always find your way. You think you might know someone like that?" Arthur asks with a slight twinkle in his eye as he nods towards the phone in Jay's hand.

Jay nods, a soft smile growing on his face as he runs his thumb across the photo on his screen, handing Arthur back his own photo. “Yeah I think I do...and she’s almost guaranteed to be just outside this building right now, she’s gonna be so pissed at me for being here.”

“I don’t think Katherine will be too happy either...will you...will you tell me about her?...what’s her name?” He nods down towards Jay's phone again.

“Hailey.” Jay whispers softly, he can already see her arms folded across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently on the street, eyes trained on every person emerging from the wreckage. Honestly what he wouldn’t give to hear her knowing tone telling him that she’s sick of hospital waiting rooms right now.

“She sort of came out of nowhere, I wasn’t really looking for anything when we met, actually...there was someone else when we met. I couldn’t even tell you the moment everything changed...trust me I’ve tried to work it out but it’s just like one day she was my partner and friend and the next she was the one person I could never live without. I remember looking over at her years ago and thinking I could lose all this...this job. This job that I’ve let define me for so long but it wouldn’t matter as long as I was with her.”

“Sounds like you’re in deep...How come you’re not married?”

“Oh we haven’t been dating that long...I...we still have some things to figure out.” Jay swallows, if he’s honest he’d marry Hailey tomorrow. He’d have married her six months ago given the chance. As soon as they started dating he knew he couldn’t ever imagine spending his life with someone else. He knew it a week in, he’d come in from an early morning run to find her sitting on the kitchen island coffee cup in hand, his t-shirt hanging loosely on her body as she read the morning news. She’d handed him his coffee without so much as a second glance and he’d known in that exact moment. It had taken everything in him not to get down on one knee right then and there.

Things had changed since their first I love you, he was even more careful with her. He didn’t want her to be overwhelmed, he wanted to help her in any way he could. She was trying, really trying and she had gotten good at letting him know when she felt flustered by their relationship, when she needed space or when she needed reassurance. He was all too happy to comply, he was happy to do whatever it took to make this work.

“Don’t waste time...not with the people you love.” The sad look on Arthur’s face like he’s almost defeated makes Jay think the elder man might be close to giving up as his eyes flicker shut briefly.

“Tell me more about Katherine.” Jay urges, he wraps a hand around Arthur's wrist, checking his pulse as he does. It’s weak.

“She’s the dream. I was a New Yorker you see, born and bread...was only here for a wedding 54 years ago when I saw her through the window of a cafe”

“And you knew right then and there?”

“God no.” Arthur begins to laugh but it turns into him choking as he struggles to catch his breath. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. Love...real true love takes work and a lot of it. You’ve got to choose that person every single day.” He croaks out, his eye sparkling as he recalls the memory in his mind. “What I did know was she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I was a young man at the time, full of a confidence I had no real right having.” Jay chuckles, he’s been there, the cocky confident guy in his 20s thinking he knew it all. “I could never have known the love that would’ve formed, so deep it almost shook me to my core. I’d never been in love before, but I’d seen others, especially in my line of work and then I got it, I got why people behave the way they did. I remember thinking if this is what love feels like I get why it starts wars.” He’s words trail off and Jay watches the way his head drops slightly.

“Hey, Arthur...Arthur we’re almost out you hear me. Stay with me now Arthur. Katherine is waiting, she's still waiting for you.”

“Will you tell her...”

Jay shakes his head furiously. Leaning up as he twists his radio, calling out for an update. “No no...I’m not going to pass on any messages.” He mumbles, grabbing hold of both Arthur’s shoulders. “You’re gonna tell her Arthur...Katherines waiting for you.”

“You tell her I loved her and that she made my world a better place.” He mutters before his eyes roll back and Jay begins to bark down his radio desperate for anyone to respond.

It is only seconds later the loud ringing of a drill sounds and Kelly Severide’s voice echoes around them. Jay can feel the relief flooding through him as the familiar uniform comes into view.

-

“Jay...” The bright sunlight is a stark contrast from the darkness he’d been buried in the last few hours, the buzz of the scene hitting him is almost deafening as he hears orders being shouted out. “Jay...” Hailey’s voice stands out amongst the noise. As he steps out away from the building, he’s ushered past the destruction zone and he can hear Brett asking him to sit but he’s too focused on finding Hailey as he scans that area.

He hears more commotion behind him watching with bated breath as Arthur is pulled from the rubble, he’s attached to a bodyboard, as the next set of paramedics rush to his aid.

He doesn't even see her approach before he feels her arms wrapping tightly around him, he releases a breath he’s been holding since the building first blew as his arms wind themselves around her waist, he sticks his face into the side of her neck letting the wisps of blonde that’s fallen loose from her ponytail tickle his face as he does. They’ve never been ones for any type of public affection, while they’re on the clock anyway but right now he can’t bring himself to care. He breaks away after a while, already missing her touch but he knows they have an audience. He watches as they lower Arthur down onto the gurney wheeling him their way.

“Is this her...is this your Hailey?” He coughs, struggling as they place the oxygen mask over his mouth.

Jay can see Hailey glance his way, shooting him a silent question. “Yeah, this is her.” Jay nods, crouching down closer to Arthur.

“I’m gonna go get Katherine okay? I’m gonna bring her to you Arthur so don’t go anywhere.” Jay grips hold of Arthur’s hand, making sure the man sees the sincerity in his eyes as Sylvie lets him know that they need to move now. “Take care of my girl and I’ll take care of yours okay?” Jay asks, glancing back at Hailey who’s just watching silently.

“Deal...”

He steps back letting them get him into the ambulance as he turns back to Hailey. He can see from the look on her face she has a lot to say and he’ll happily listen to everything but just not right now. “Hey I’m okay I promise I’m okay and I'll sit and get a full checkout at the hospital just to please you but first I have something to do, please just trust me and keep Arthur company until I get to the hospital.”

“Erm sure okay...”

Jay smiles as she agrees without question, pressing a firm kiss on Hailey's forehead surprising her before he’s rushing off through the crowd without another word.

-

Hailey loses sight of Jay almost as quickly as she finds him, her heart is still thumping in her chest as she tries to keep reminding herself that he's alive, he’s alive and safe and doing whatever the hell he does. She'd done as he asked, joining the man he'd been pulled from the rubble with into the ambulance.

The ambulance roars into life and she watches as the elderly man begins to pull down his oxygen mask much to the dismay of the newest recruit to 51, his hand shaking as it reaches out for Haileys.

She takes his hand in hers. It’s cold but it squeezes onto hers tightly. She’d heard the tail end of their conversation. “You take care of my girl...I’ll take care of yours.” She’s not sure what Jay has planned but she trusts him, no questions asked.

“That man loves you more than life itself dear.” Arthur croaks and the tears that she refused to let fall in front of all their colleagues finally fall, splashing against her cheeks, his words catching her off guard.

-

The E.R is a mess, overrun with victims from the blast, no one can tell her anything as Arthur is rushed off for surgery, she’s not family, she has no right to know. So instead she takes a seat in the corner out of the way of the chaos.

She thinks she might be dreaming when he finally emerges through the doors, still dressed in his blood-stained clothes, an elderly woman holding tightly to his arm as he leads her through the crowd and towards the front desk. His eyes find hers quickly like he doesn’t even need to search for her, he just knows where she is and the small smile that plays on his lips as their eyes meet is enough for her.

-

It’s hours later when Katherine and Arthur are finally reunited. Jay helps Katherine towards his room, stopping in the doorway as Hailey hangs back. She’s still not sure what the infinity with this couple is but she’ll go along with it if that’s what Jay wants.

“That’s gonna be us one day.” He mutters quietly as the door slips shut and he steps back out into the hallway. Hailey raises her eyebrows in surprise as Jay makes his way around her, his arms encircling her waist as he leans his chin on top of her head. Both of them watching the elderly couple through the window. The way Katherine caresses Arthur’s face as he presses a kiss to her hand. The look of pure joy to see each other is so evident in their faces.

“Minus the major bleed and building collapse I hope.” She hums, leaning back into his embrace, finally feeling at ease as the weight of the day seems to slip away.

He nestles his face into her neck, pressing a light kiss to her skin. “I make no promises...”

“Hey...” she laughs, shaking her head as she places her hands on top of his, she can feel his lip quirk up into a grin against her neck and it makes her own lips turn up. “How are we going to grow old together if you keep being so reckless?”

“That’s what you love about me.”

Hailey turns in his arms, slipping her arms around his waist, one hand stroking his back softly. “I assure you it’s not...but I do love you.” She whispers the last part, she still struggles to say the words but each time she does it feels a little easier, like the words that were once so dark get a shade lighter each time she says them or hears them fall from his lips.

She watches as Jay takes a sharp breath, before resting his forehead against hers, closing his eyes softly just breathing her in. “I’m gonna say something. It’s not a question it’s just a thought...okay? I’m giving you fair warning for when the time comes.”

Hailey narrows her eyes but nods anyway, letting him pull her to the side as the hallway becomes busier. “I love you...you’re my best friend and...”

“And?”

“And I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Her blue eyes widen for a second and Jay bites down on his lips to stop the smile that comes every time he looks at her. He can see the thoughts whirling through her mind like waves crashing around the ocean. He feels her arms squeeze his waist a little tighter before she simply shrugs. “Okay...” she mumbles , laying her head back against his chest as she turns her gaze back towards Arthur and Katherine. They stand there for a moment in silence and he wonders if she can see what he can...a glimpse at their future. His thoughts are confirmed when he feels her lips pressed to his cheek curling up into a smile against him. “Okay...I’ll marry you one day.”

[bakugohoex]

I saw that you wanted haikyuu requests, so I am here!! also I read the rules and there wasn’t mention about “cheating” so hopefully it’s fine. Anyway angst to fluff for OSAMU!! Reader isn’t a very good cook, so she decides to go to cooking classes in secret to surprise Osamu, but since she’s been avoiding him and acting like she’s hiding something he suspects that she’s cheating. It all breaks down when he see’s reader and atsumu together, he just goes off on reader and says like “get out” or “I trusted you” Finally Atsumu says it’s just a misunderstanding and he’s taste testing the practice food, so Osamu goes to apologize and fluffy ending where reader and him cook together! Hopefully that wasn’t too long and too many details😅💛

“i was just trying to get better”

paring: osamu miya x female reader

cw: fluff, angst, language

word count: 2700+

a/n: hey sorry if this took long to come out and it wasnt long at all, the more the merrier i say with detail, thanks love

summary: in which being a terrible cook and dating a man with exceptional talent, you decide to go and get some cooking lessons, the hidden secrets and a misunderstanding leads to a lot more than you had ever expected

↞ back to haikyu!! masterlist

The smell of Osamu’s cooking filled the air, you loved the way the air always had a sense of his love alongside the food. You admired his cooking, the way he ran a business, the whole lot. His world may have revolved around cooking but in the middle would always be you. You had emailed about attending a cooking class every Wednesday night and knew the first class was starting in a couple days.

He happily hummed along to the music that played on the radio. He turned to face you, your eyes staring and admiring the boy. He smiled as he continued to make dinner, he always loved how even without the two of you communicating together you could both just stay in the same room. Watching the other with whatever they were doing, he brought a spoon into the pan, before moving to you, “open wide.”

Your mouth moved open as he put the spoon into your mouth, your mind went wild with the taste. Every flavour being perfect, you couldn't wait to finally learn yourself, properly and surprise him with it all. “It’s amazing ‘Samu,” he smiled back kissing your forehead before plating up the food. 

Having already told the boy of your plans on Wednesday night, he was glad you had something to do when he came home late. He offered to pick you up, but your straight rejection left him to not think anymore of the issue. Well that’s what he thought, when Wednesday night had finally occurred a couple days later, he had ended up coming home earlier than usual.

“Hey Atsumu, you outside?” The first thing he heard when he walked inside, he was confused on why Atsumu was hanging out with you. Even if the two of you were friends, it had been odd of you not to tell him that your friend was Atsumu. “Oh, hey, you’re early.” You looked hesitant.

Osamu saw your normal clothes, as he smiled at you, “you hanging out with Atsumu?”

“No.” You knew he heard you, thinking of a lie with ease, “he offered to drop me off at my friend's place.”

“Oh, do you want me to come with you?” Osamu spoke softly, you smiled at the boy knowing you’d have to reject him.

Shaking your head, “it’s fine, ‘Tsumu’s already here?”

“Okay, have fun then.” Osamu muttered watching how you left him with a kiss on the cheek. Meeting his twin and stepping inside the car, he had been left alone without any word on who your friend even was and what time you’d be back. He trusted you, of course he did but not letting him at least send you off safely worried him. 

He knew Atsumu, knew how once Atsumu saw something he liked he’d go for it, without even a care for anybody's feelings. He trusted you though and that’s what kept him going for the rest of the night.

“When do you plan on telling ‘Samu then?” Atsumu spoke taking the spare parking spot, after overhearing about your plans he had had to come and help you. He wanted the best for his brother and helping you in these classes was the least he could do for making his brother happier. 

“I don’t know, I've got 4 lessons and then hopefully I can prepare dinner.” You weren't a terrible cook, but you were nowhere near Osamu’s standards. He just always seemed to have this magical touch that you never had when you cooked. 

Atsumu opened the door for you as you stepped out, feeling the wind hit your body, “you better hope you learn quick then.” 

You took a sharp breath smiling at the boy before you both walked inside the building. The sight of others already being inside was surprising not having expected that many. But here you were, apron on both you and Atsumu as you began the lessons. There was nothing really bad about it, both you and Atsumu would joke for an hour, learn the recipes and try to cook it. 

In the end, you both were able to cook basic foods and learn new techniques on how to cook. You had to admit it, but the classes were fun, and you thought it’d be fun to join one of those couple cooking classes with Osamu. Giving your dish to Atsumu, he smiled knowing he was getting extra food before dropping you back to your apartment. 

“Hey baby.” You spoke walking inside, sweat had formed from being in a humid kitchen and the smell of oil lingered on your clothes but you didn't care only wanting to see your boyfriend. 

Osamu laid on the couch switching between channels, his head popped out as he saw you walk towards him. “Hey baby, how was your night?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, head on his shoulders as you kissed his neck. “Tiring, we tried to make cookies.” It wasn't a lie, but it definitely wasn't true at all, Osamu smiled turning to meet your gaze. He gave a long look into your eyes before bringing his lips to peck your own, he could taste other foods, nothing being the taste of anything savoury. But maybe it was just his paranoia, he ignored it continuing to kiss you softly, he let you come and cuddle beside him. Your head on his chest as you both dozed off in front of the television.

Your Wednesday nights continued like this, Atsumu picking you up and Osamu not questioning it or working late. That was until your 4th and final lesson had occurred, Osamu had been turning the corner to the apartment parking when he saw you get into Atsumu’s car. He could notice that car from a mile away, always knowing it to be his twins, he just couldn’t understand what was going on between the two of you to hang out this much.

Going against his better judgement he texted Atsumu, ‘You got plans tonight?’, it was blunt but how most siblings talked when in a hurry or in general. 

Osamu received a message quickly; he had seen the car drive away with you and whatever the answer was going to be. He wasn't going to be happy about it, ‘yeah, hanging out with Hinata and Bokuto’, a rage filled through Osamu, the blatant lie of it. He couldn't follow the car, he just couldn’t but if Atsumu was going to lie about it then Osamu needed proof. 

Texting Bokuto and Hinata he asked to meet them, he knew you had been distant, tetchy even. You’d hide your phone in fear of something, it had been weird to see, normally being able to go on your phone just to google something. But you got protective, protective where you carried your phone everywhere with you. 

Osamu left the car park going to where he asked to meet the two boys. Just as his own meeting was occurring a relief had washed over you. “I’m so happy this is nearly over; I just want to make dinner tonight.” 

The last session was more to just make some desserts, you planned to make it and save it for later on tonight. And with the help of Atsumu’s eyes go to your apartment and make dinner for both you and Osamu. You had worked hard these weeks, practicing and texting other members of the session for advice on how to perfect the dish. Always being helpful in praising your new found skill and helping you along the way. It was sweet and you’d miss seeing these people. 

With ease the hour passed by, Atsumu had made a terrible dessert. Having burnt it which made the whole group shake their head in acknowledgement that Atsumu could make some good food, but desserts would never be his forte. He watched you bring the cake out with a happy smile, “say cheese.” He would send the picture to Osamu once the confession was out, you looked so joyful, flour on your face but you showed the cake proudly to the camera. 

“He’s going to love it Y/n, stop worrying.” Atsumu spoke after the farewells occurred between the group, all being in a group chat wishing to hear how the night will go with your boyfriend. 

“Me? Worry? Never.” You were nervous, you were scared your food was never going to compare to Osamu’s. His was always just amazing and yours just seemed below par, Atsumu tried to comfort you with a reassuring hug but your nerves were still going haywire. 

You just wanted to get home and quickly start cooking the meal, you knew Osamu was working late. Having taken a glimpse of the schedule so you knew you had time, but it all felt daunting that everything you had worked for had come down to this.

Osamu never got pissed about you, you were his love, his future but after being with both Bokuto and Hinata who spoke about Atsumu always leaving in a rush on Wednesdays. How could he not get pissed, the fact that you’d go behind his back and lie about being with friends to sleep with his twin infuriated him. He hated how you chose Atsumu, how you went this far to hide a relationship with Atsumu from him. If you truly cared about him then you wouldn’t have let him find out from Atsumu’s friends.

He didn't ever want to see your face again, the vulgar thoughts he had to you and actions he had towards his brother seared through him as he walked towards the door of the apartment. 

That’s when he heard it through the door, the giggling, your laugh. The laugh he had loved so much but, in this moment, he hated it. He stepped quietly inside, listening to the conversation. 

“We should do it again sometime?” Atsumu spoke leaning against the counter, watching you stir the food. 

You gave a murmur back, “what? Spend even more Wednesdays wiping crap off of our faces.” Maybe your phrasing had been misinterpreted but Osamu was pissed at how you had brought his own twin back to his home. 

“Yeah, even ask ‘Samu to join.” A horrific face stayed on Osamu’s face at his brother's comment. How Atsumu could easily speak of something as disgusting as that.

You chuckled with a smile, “yeah, we can make him do everything and just sit back and enjoy the show.”

He hated your words, how you and Atsumu were laughing at him, was this how you truly felt about Osamu? The next words seemed to flip something in him, “give it a taste.”

“Mm, Y/n.” The sound of Atsumu almost moaning in love at your food had been taken wrongly with Osamu storming inside the kitchen. “‘Samu, fuck how long have you been here?” Atsumu spoke with a spoon still in mouth, your nerves had gotten the better of you. You stood in front of the pan, the heat off as you looked down at your fingers.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my apartment?” Osamu shouted at the two of you.

“Ugh, Y/n…” Atsumu was interrupted by the sound of Osamu’s hand hitting the marble top of the counter. 

“I wasn’t talking to you Atsumu, so what, you bring your little fuck home, make fun of me, fuck Y/n, I thought we had a future together. But no you’ve been sucking Atsumu’s dick for the past month.”

Realising it had been a whole misunderstanding you were about to speak, “i was just trying to get better.” It was the only thing you could babble out through your erupting tears.

Osamu disregarded your words, interrupting you, “I fucking trusted you Y/n, I can’t even look at you, get the fuck out of my face.”

Tears had welled up in your eyes, Atsumu tried to comfort you but knew it’d make the situation worse. You ran past Osamu, trying to not cry as much but found yourself going into your shared bedroom. Sobbing into the sheets, you should’ve realised how it looked, sneaking off with Atsumu to cooking classes, hiding your phone and now those prior words, how could you have bene so stupid. 

“‘Samu.” Atsumu muttered to his brother.

Osamu was ready to punch his brother but Atsumu stayed firm, “you really can’t let me have anything can…”

Atsumu interrupted his brother in seconds, “Y/n and I haven't been sleeping together. We were taking cooking classes.”

“You must really think I’m stupid for believing that.” Osamu laughed sadistically.

“You want proof, Y/n was cooking this.” Atsumu was being careful with his words, he needed you two to remain together. He knew just how much both of you were just perfect together and refused to let that die away from a false accusation. 

Osamu walked towards the pan, Atsumu’s spoon being on the side, he recognised the truth but even then, how could he believe this. Atsumu sensing this brought out his phone, “look at this, dumbass.”

The photo of you and a cake, flour on your face and hair. He recognised the cake to be the one that was on the side and the timestamp being from an hour ago. He felt relieved that you haven't been sleeping with Atsumu, but it had dawned on him his previous words. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Atsumu shook his head, putting a pat on his brother's shoulder, “talk to her, she’ll understand.” Atsumu watched his twin walk away, deciding to plate up the food for a candle light dinner for the two of you. Already knowing that everything would work out for the two of you.

A knock on your bedroom door came and the sound of shuffling, “Y/n.” Osamu’s voice came through, “baby.”

He saw how you were curled up on the bed, messy hair and tears streaming down your face. Bringing his back against your own, he wrapped an arm around your waist feeling how tense you were. “I’m so sorry Y/n, ‘Tsumu, explained it all and I don’t know how to start earning your forgiveness baby, I regret what I said, I should've asked first, before shouting, Y/n, I just can’t lose you, you’re my world and future and I’m just so sorry and I understand if you want nothing to do with me, I’ll let you have the apartment and I’ll move…”

You turned to meet the boy, his words getting to you. He was apologising and it was an understandable assumption for him to make, but nevertheless you accepted it, “it’s okay, and I'm sorry for benign weird this past month.”

He saw how your arms wrapped his own waist, your chest to his chest and his arms holding you secure. You both stayed like this for a couple minutes, before you looked up to his lips, giving him a soft kiss. He wiped the tears away before kissing back, a warm sensation filled him filled with comfort and his future. He peppered soft kisses across your jaw before getting up, taking your hand in his own. 

Once you both were back in the kitchen, you saw how two plates had been set out, a wine bottle bought two glasses and a single long candle in the middle. Knowing it was Atsumu you both were thankful for the boy. Osamu brought your chair out, letting you sit down, his arms stayed on your shoulders. As his lips moved to your giving you a soft kiss, “I can’t wait to try it”

“Be warned it might be shit.” You spoke, watching him begin to dish out the two portions. You refused to even try it before he had, watching him eat a mouthful, a loud moan coming from his lips.

“Fuck baby, should I be worried I have competition now?” You chuckled at his remark waiting for more, “it’s amazing baby, better than my own.”

“Really?” You gleamed out ready to take a biteful. 

“It tastes amazing, baby.” He repeats eating more to indicate just how much he loved the food. 

You smiled back at the boy; he truly loved your food. You were so thankful and even with the earlier occurrence you wouldn't have changed anything. Glad you had gone to learn how to cook and the face on Osamu’s face truly brought you everything you loved. Your future happily eating something you made, with all your heart and warmth, and enjoying it just as you enjoyed his. 

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac @dai-tsukki-desu @fandomsinthegalaxies @crimsonbows-and-arrows @admin-in-residence @otterlockholmes

[salparadiselost]

Hiii!!! I love your demon AU so much. I was wondering if you could possibly write a snippet of an AU where police officer!Dick saves some demons or something as a police officer and he knows how to handle them and uses mimicked demon behavior to calm them and all his colleagues are like "where did you learn that? whaaat are you doing" and he gets to gush about his baby brothers and sister who are all demons?

Sure thing! I love Dick could be a good police officer and help to make a difference in bridging the gap between species.

———

Dick knew that Jason hated him living in Bludhaven. He knew that Jason hated the fact that he was a cop and was putting his life on the line without the protection of a pack or a cape.

But there were some things that Dick needed to do without Jason’s approval.

Surprisingly, Bruce had been the one to understand that the most and helped Dick present his case to Jason.

The demon wasn’t happy, but he relented under the pressure of Head and the Head’s second.

Dick only stayed in Blud four days a week, returning back for long weekends in order to help feed the Incubi and settled pack bonds that got ruffled without one of their own. It was an easy schedule because the drive to Blud wasn’t that bad and Dick was more than grateful for the extra Friday to spend with his baby brothers.

That didn’t stop Jason from grumpily glaring like an affronted cat every time Dick packed his suitcase to return to Blud after his usual 3-day weekend at the Manor, though.

The Incubus was the worst mother hen out of all of them even if he vehemently denied it.

Dick sighed leaning back against the leather of the patrol car, idly watching as cars passed by. He chuckled as speeders suddenly pressed on the brakes in an attempt to pretend they weren’t just going 15 over. Dick wasn’t in the mood to actually pull one over and entertained himself with the panicking drivers.

The radio crackled and Dick listened as another officer spoke into the channel.

"Attention code 45 on East Street. Back up requested."

45... that was...

Feral demon. The highly dangerous kind.

Or, at least the cop who called it in thought the person was highly dangerous.

Dick jolted in his street, scrambling for his radio. "This is Officer Grayson. I'm on my way."

He pulled onto the street, turned on his sirens, and raced to the location.

His tires screeched when pulled up next to an alleyway that already had two other cop cars parked next to it. The lights were flashing and made the alleyway be bathed in bursts of red and blue.

He was too fucking late. He wanted to be the first one here to stop the damage before it could be dealt.

He flung open the door and rushed into the alleyway where four other officers were already huddled around was what he assumed was a demon. Hands were on guns, muscles were tense and there was a low, angry hissing filling the air.

"Grayson, good thing you're here. We have a pretty nasty one."

Dick bristled at hearing the demon get called a "nasty one". They were probably terrified, growling and snarling because they were cornered and outnumbered.

"Species?"

"A Succubus and an Alectos."

There were two of them? Dick only heard the hissing of one.

Dick broke through the group of other officers, shoving his way to the front, and stopped.

The Succubus was crouched on the group, half shoved behind a dumpster and hissing with all the fury her small body could manage. She couldn't be older than Damian, probably only 12 or 13. She hadn't grown enough to get a full, deep growl of an adult demon.

Behind her, a tiny impling shivered and whined in fright. He looked up with his multicolour eyes that constantly shifted hue in the light. He was so young that it hurt Dick's heart. The imp had only tiny nubs for horns, and clung on to the older demon fiercely.

The familiarity meant that they were probably siblings. Maybe adopted. Maybe with one child taking after their Mother and another taking after their Father.

They were definitely pack and the Succubus acted just as any demon would act to a packmate being threatened.

Dick could easily imagine Jason acting the exact same way, making himself as terrifying as possible to protect his implings.

But Jason, a full-grown Incubus with fangs and claws and snarl that could shake bone, was actually terror-inducing.

This Succubus with her high-pitched and stuttering snarl and her adorable baby brother peering over her shoulder, just looked heartbreaking and scared.

"Everyone get back," Dick ordered, sweeping an arm out. "I can handle this."

"Grayson..."

"I can," he snapped, "My siblings are demons. I know how to handle them."

The officer stepped back and Dick heaved a breath before walking forward.

The Succubus's eyes instantly snapped on to him and her growling became more panicked. Dick felt her desperately try to grapple with his emotions and bend them to her will, but her attempts were amateur. Dick was used to sparring with Jason, a highly trained demon who could wield his abilities like a knife, and he was more than capable of shutting down the Succubus's emotion grabbing.

He didn't let her manipulate his emotions, but he did open them, letting her know that he was safe and meant no harm.

"Hi," he said as he watched the Succubus taste his emotions. Some of the tension in her muscles began to ease and she tilted her head in confusion. Humans wouldn't normally know how to portray their emotions purposefully to a Succubus.

"I'm Dick. I'm not going to hurt you."

Her eyes flickered to the officers behind him.

"They want to take my brother," she said, her voice gravelly with a growl. "They want to take me."

An officer stepped forward, her face scowling. "We just want to bring them to the CPS. They shouldn't be out here alone."

Dick agreed, but he knew better than anyone that CPS could be just as dangerous as living on the streets from a young Succubus and an impling.

The Succubus stiffened and horror flashed on her face. Her eyes flickered between Dick and the other officers. She tried to snarl, flashing her fangs at them even as her eyes looked terrified.

"I won't let you take him. I won't."

Dick could see the situation quickly getting out of hand. The Succubus was slowly growing more frantic, the officers were getting tenser because of it. Dick needed to de-escalate.

So he shoved himself in front of the Succubus, breaking her eye contact with imposing officers, and he chuffed.

The Succubus startled at the sound, eye-widening and locking on to him.

Humans didn't chuff. They didn't know what chuffing meant, that it was supposed to call implings and let them know an older, protective demon was there.

But most humans didn't have demon brothers that constantly needed corralling and cuddling to feed.

The Alectos impling was the first to respond, chirping towards Dick and instinctively answering back to what he perceived as an older demon.

The Succubus was slower, but eventually, also let her growling die down and also chirped to Dick.

Dick gave them both his almost-purr and spoke calmly.

"I'm going to help you. You won't be separated. I can get you somewhere safe."

"But, trafficking..."

"I know and I know somewhere you can go where they won't touch you."

The Succubus blinked and Dick slow blinked back, finally easing the last of the tension in her muscles.

"How do you know?"

Dick gave her a soft smile and let her have a peek at the bright packbonds in his chest.

Her eyes widened in shock and she looked at him in a new light. "You have a pack."

"Yes, two of my brothers are Incubi, one is a Luciferean and my sister is a Wraith."

"And you're a human?"

"Yes, and so is our Head of pack."

She wrinkled her nose and it was the first time that she looked like a proper, innocent impling instead of a scared, out-of-her-mind kid.

"That's weird."

Dick laughed and offered her a hand so she could stand up. She hesitantly took it. The impling at her side chirped again and nuzzled into her.

"Yeah, I guess it is pretty weird, but I still love them."

Dick walked with the Succubus, motioning the other officers away and guiding her into the back of his police car. When they were settled, Dick heard her begin to purr for her baby brother and groom the dirt away from his face.

Dick couldn't help but smile to himself as he called to one of the Wayne Enterprises-sponsored demon shelters and told them he was bringing the siblings.

He couldn't save every demon he came across, but it brightened something hopeful in his heart whenever he could help just one.

He dropped the siblings at the shelter, relaxing as they finally got to somewhere safe. There were far too few places that were safe for a demon.

And as he watched the siblings retreat into the shelter, he ached for his own pack and his own siblings. He had the sudden fierce urge to chuff, even though the implings weren't there to hear him.

Maybe he could leave for Gotham a little early? Bruce certainly wouldn't mind having Dick drop by unexpectedly.

Dick pulled his cop car back into the Bludhaven street and tugged at his bonds. Everyone in his family tugged back.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Fame With No Shame | Part Three

A/N; I think at most there will be one more part to this series, and that will be the reveal of Luke and the readers relationship to the public. Thankyou for all of the requests for this series, please enjoy xx

Summary; in the midst of an interview, there is talk of (Y/N) dating a member. The interviewer is keen to find who is the lucky gentleman within their ranks, but can Luke remain steady though the enquiries about his girl?

Brushing his hands down his black clothed legs, Luke sat upon the seat, eyes interpreting his composure. His face was slightly flushed, aware that his hair was a bouquet of messy curls, the state of his redress had not gone unnoticed by the hostess nor his curious band members. All were wondering of whom he had hassled sexually with before this set, but nothing was mentioned, at least not yet.

A small part of him wanted to let the world know of his relationship status, and more importantly, whom he was entangled with. But it would all be released in due time, he would just have to remain both vigilant of letting anything slip and patient. The rumours could manage to infuriate and humour him all at once, so many fans had claimed to know the identity of the woman in his life.

There were many suspicions, although they were only proven by the hope and dedication of all kinds of people on sites such as tumblr and wattpad, that his lover that was concealed to their eyes was not a lady at all. It was perceived that it was a bandmate; a dear friend of his, that he was sleeping and taking midnight strolls with.

That of course was not the truth, the shipping had been dragging on for years, he sometimes wished that the guesses could be correct all by their own. (Y/N) however was amused by how much it infuriated him, and all of his frustrations would dissipate at the sound of her glorious laugh, and in the end, all that was left was for him to join in and relax.

Things between them were certainly going good, to say the least. He had never felt so elated to see someone pour themselves a mug of coffee, or tie their shoelaces. It wasn’t hard, and hadn’t been difficult for him to admit the facts – he was in love. If there was any evidence that they existed, he was sure that he had found his soulmate.

She understood not only his emotions, but his springs of motivation, the ideas that would creep in the middle of the night or whilst he was in the bathroom for songs. His process was normal to her, because she experienced the same waves of inspiration, the urge to write what flowed to mind and execute lyrics until they were sure enough ready and sounded right to be released to the rest of the world.

And together, that was like the universe had combined the two creators for a reason, to make a beautiful sound, an eternal symphony that would play on forever and a day. If people knew about them, it could disturb the state of their peace, the security that they found within their relationship. And that would be the most tragic and morbid interference that either of them could ever experience.

Hate online was strong, and (Y/N) suspected that neither of them were prepared to take the mixed responses to their newfound and blooming romance. Each of them individually received the expressions of resenting opinions, through messages, through posts, through the loop of the internet. It was never ending, the trolls were headstrong and stubborn, they didn’t want to be stopped, and any reply that they got in turn only made their day, encouraging them to cackle away at the fact that they drew a celebrity’s attention and time away from more important matters.

“And we’re live.” The hostess of the radio show confirmed, settling more comfortably into her plush, swivel seat, as she set her digging eyes into the men that were seated around the platform of a small, recorded station. “My name is Heidi, and we are here on HotRadio, with the one, the only, Five Seconds of Summer.”

Luke adjusted his headset, leaning closer to the microphone so that he was close enough to allow his reviews and answers be heard better than when he was reclined back, awaiting the start of the recording. “So now tell me boys, how was it working with (Y/N) (L/N) for your new single, Flashes.” He gulped at the mention of her name, this wasn’t the best situation, considering that he could accidentally allow some classified information slip, and spiral through the channels of the web.

“She was amazing!” Michael blazed in with his initial impression of her, a jolly grin spread across his lips and chin. “We’ve been fans of her work for so long, it was a dream to finally work with her.” His hands waved as he spoke, confirming his excitement, although working with (Y/N) had already been and gone.

“Yeah.” Ashton bobbed his head, agreeing with his friend. “She is such a talented woman, we don’t do many collaborations singing with other people, but all four of us can definitely admit that she was such a great sport. She put so much work into the song, from lyrics and notes, there is a bright future ahead of her.”

The boys speaking of her made Luke want to purposely trip in his secrecy, they had no expense from gushing over her in such an idealistic way. However if he were to join in, he’d risk the exposure of the relationship. (Y/N) would be mad at him if he were to do that, so he rubbed his chin, feeling the growing prickles of stubble against his guitar picked hands.

Heidi smiled, they were eager to tell her their what appeared to be honest opinion. Yet there were still more details that she and the fans sought; answers. There were so many questions that were lingering, waiting to be spoken aloud in the recorded air.

“Was there any romance sparked between one of you and (Y/N)? How about you Calum?” It was typical, the enquiries about the song itself, that was supposed to be the main attention of this interview , it wasn’t about love, or feelings or whatever.

The thought that Calum, out of all of them, was the one considered to have gained her affections made Luke bite the inside of his cheek. Sure, Calum was single, but so was he, or at least was in the media’s eyes, and before he met (Y/N).

Luke’s frown was subtle, but it was still there! And everyone was oblivious to his disconcerting expression, all because the spotlight shined on the bassist, and the idea that he, out of all them, was privileged enough to have possibly shared a bed or the exchange of numbers in the static noise of the track.

Cal cleared his throat, ruffling the collar of his shirt, as though there were a reason for him to be fanning himself. “I mean, I’m not one to disclose that personal information.” That son of a bitch, Luke thought. From his response, something had obviously occurred, it was too bland for an answer.

That was until said boy began to laugh, spewing a humoured chuckle from his mouth whilst looking Luke dead in the eyes. The opposing man could only frown, his face hardened by the strong crease that went down the centre of it.

“Too bad she already has a boyfriend.” Michael chipped in, the guitarist’s attitude and statement not only making Luke paranoid, but also worried. What if he were not the only one that had grabbed the affections of (Y/N)?

 To begin with, it was clear that she was a bit of a player, and he had no problem with it, there was nothing wrong at all with a woman embracing her sexuality, it was even kind of sexy. But now they were partners in a relationship, and he could only trust her to be faithful.

Mikey’s words had not only drawn the intrigue of the lead singer, but also Heidi, who was leant forward in her seat, the dimples in her face prominent as she was presenting glee from hearing first time news, that was broadcasting on her radio channel.

“Are we permitted to be told who the lucky gentleman is?” How she hoped that the revelation would be unconcealed during this very interview, personally the woman was curious herself, but also the thought of the views skyrocketing encouraged her desperation for an answer.

Ash smirked, his eyes fluttering through his trio of bandmates, this was certainly entertaining for the rest of them also. Except one from the looks of it, Luke was gnawing on the outer portion of his lip. This was getting to him, just as they wanted. They knew, all along, what was occurring between Luke and the talented lady.

She had been a crush of his for a long time, and it seemed that she shared that affliction of interests, by being attracted to the natural blonde himself. It was noticeable to the boys from the first time that (Y/N) had entered the studio, their eyes navigated to the sight of the other, and their attention had to be drawn for the pair to look away from one another.

“One of us.” The eldest member replied, and Luke realised that in that moment, he had not been as discreet with the entire dating ordeal as he thought he had. They’d quickly realised that there were strings attached when Luke began to miss their nights out clubbing, and said he’d prefer to stay in and watch a movie – alone.

However, it was not a solitary activity, and binging television was not all that the promiscuous man was partaking in. The symptoms that brought light and revelation to Luke and (Y/N)’s involvement was matching marks of red suction bites around the circumferences of their throats, that eventually healed and could be concealed, however the boys could see right through their efforts.

And then there was the undebatable evidence of smeared lipstick scorned across their lips, a shade which consisted perfectly against one another, from nudes to striking reds, the pigment that streaked against Luke’s vigorously hungry lips consisted to be suspiciously similar to the original prominence that was lined and filled on (Y/N)’s own petalled mouth.

“Oh.” It appeared that the prying interviewer had not even put any efforts into hiding her pleasantly condemned grin, every detail that was slipping through the teeth of the men gave her some kind of joy.

She had somehow hit a gold mine with the answers that her pay check curiosity had earned her. There was so much going on behind the scenes that had never been revealed, and it seemed that all would be exposed, on HotRadio! “Are we granted to know which one of you is the lucky man?”

Luke shifted in his chair, gripping onto the arms with his painted nails. He was prepared to hit rock bottom in this deep deep ocean that he had swam himself into, yet a snicker left Cal, bringing all afraid and all too alert attention to him.

“I think not, we can keep a secret for a little longer.” His eyes paced slyly over to Luke, sending him an all knowing wink.

He sighed, he lived to fight another day.

[kisskeiji]

6. Love me right.

Lost & Found.

WARNINGS: language, mentions of self doubt and spiraling 

The closer the Volleyball Association awards ceremony was, the busier your schedule was, with the end of the season and the team winning their final match your phone wouldn’t stop ringing with reporters from sports magazines and channels trying to get a word from the athletes, the team went on for at least three weeks without a break; everyone was way too exhausted to bear with another interview. You had to travel around the country for away games every other week and the moment you came back home after the season finale you had to jump back into ‘babysitter duty’ supervising the press conferences, television appearances and exclusive interviews. You tried to relieve the soreness of your neck by rubbing it as you walked to the meeting room where everyone including the team waited for you. 

“Please no more interviews, Y/N, we are begging.” Inunaki said as soon as you entered the room. Everyone looked at you with pleading eyes — everyone except Bokuto who was busy stuffing himself with cookies—, you sighed and took your seat next to Imai.

“We are done with your schedule, don’t worry about that.” You said and turned to greet your team, taking the coffee one of your assistants got you and taking a big sip almost forgetting the drink was hot, your face contorted in pain but you tried your best to hide it, you were wide awake now, not from the coffee but from your burnt tongue. 

“Let’s make this quick guys, I think we all want to go home.” Hideko got up from her seat and buttoned her coat. “Season’s over, congratulations on your win, the sponsors and everyone’s pockets are extremely happy.” Everyone laughed at her comment as she kept talking. “I think the promotion period was even more exhausting than the matches for you guys, and we are thankful to all of you because surprisingly no one messed things up, so our headlines are clear.” You nodded along her speech while you reviewed your notes. Hideko thanked the staff and also talked about what was about to come with the new year approaching. “We are holding to our usual holiday agenda, the training grounds and the gym are open if you want to train by yourself but I don’t think coach Foster wants to see your faces for at least a month.” 

“She’s right, please stay away from me.” Coach Foster said massaging the bridge of his nose and the team smiled, they all knew the man cared deeply for them and their well being. Bokuto, who was sitting beside him, gave him a side hug that made him grasp for whatever surface was in front of him. 

“Bokuto, stop tormenting the poor man.” Hideko glared at him. “As you might know, the big night it’s on New Year's eve. Some of the staff is required such as Y/N and her team, me, of course.” She rolled her eyes with her hand on her chest, stating his presence as a given. “And our athletic trainers, so don’t make plans this year. The rest of the staff is invited too but have the option not to go and spend the holiday with their families like normal people.” She sighed, not precisely delighted with the idea of spending new year technically working. 

“I can take care of things if any of you want to go home.” You said to your three assistants and they nodded. 

“Players are allowed to bring a plus one, blah blah blah, you know the drill. Please, you are grown adults and it’s the time of the year you can drink, don’t do something stupid that can end in more work for us.” She took her coffee cup from the table. “Any questions?” She asked before drinking from it, having the same reaction you had earlier to the hot beverage. “That’s really hot, shit.” She cussed.

“Do we have to wear a suit and tie?” Bokuto asked. 

“Yes, Bokuto, it’s a gala.”

“But I don’t know how to tie a tie.” He said, looking at Hideko with sad eyes. 

“Wear a bow one.” She answered without enthusiasm. “Y/N take the lead, I have another meeting with scary people with money.” She really meant the sponsors and the team owners, for someone as fierce and imposing to be intimidated by them meant they were business and one she had to tiptoe around to keep them happy, after meeting them at the team party you understood why she avoided them like the plague. 

“I just have some things to run with you guys and then we can go home, I’m not taking too long.”  You stood up when Hideko left. “No more interviews, your schedule is closed for the rest of the month and I will start booking once we announce the team tryouts on mid January. Like always, I'm not responsible for paparazzi’s but if you get spotted you already know what to do.” Taking a deep breath you continued as you reviewed your notebook. “Regarding the awards, if you win something the interviews are not in my hands, so expect casual interviews the day after. We will be monitoring during the holidays too, so you can call me if something happens.” You looked up to everyone listening to you attentively. 

It felt good, being respected felt good. You were more than thankful for the opportunities you had and for taking the position, specially with the Black Jackals, it was a family in every aspect and you felt welcomed since day one and being recognized for all your work the past six months was enough for you to walk with your head up high again proud of your work and your team. “And lastly, I would like to thank all of you for working so well this season and putting up with the hell sent schedule we had the past month. I think we all did a great job.” You offered a bright smile to everyone in the room. 

“Are you kidding? You saved our asses this season, Y/N! We should be thanking you.” Inunaki said and everyone agreed. 

“That’s true, you did an amazing job since day one.” You looked at Meian who smiled at you fondly. 

“Well, it was a team effort, my girls worked really hard too.” You pointed at your three assistants who looked at you with pink cheeks and shiny eyes. “Well, unless any of you have any questions I think that’s it for today.”  Everyone gathered their belongings and left the meeting room, you went straight to your office to get your purse and lock the place before heading home. 

“Wanna have some lunch with ‘Samu?” You heard Atsumu say. 

“That depends, can I pay for my food?” 

“Not a chance.” He shook his head. “He invited Kita-san and Suna apparently likes you better than me and asked me to invite you.” He explained and you raised a brow. 

“You don’t want me there?” You laid on your desk, hands resting on your sides and legs crosses in front of you, he rolled his eyes and walked closer to you. 

“Of course I do, what are you talking about?” His warm hand caressed your cheek and you held to his wrist moving his hand to rest on your shoulder. “So? You coming or not. If you don’t ‘Samu will be mad at me.” 

“He’s a big boy, he’ll live.” You joked and he poked your side. “Let me lock the place and we can go.” You grabbed your keys from your desk and locked your office, hoping to not have to come back in a few weeks. Sighing, you turned back to see Atsumu holding his car keys and a smug grin, you walked out the training grounds and to the parking lot where some members of the team had a conversation outside their cars, you waved goodbye and Atsumu opened the front seat door for you. 

“Driving her again, Miya?” Barnes asked boarding his own car. 

“Such a gentleman, I’m so proud.” Inunaki followed. 

“Very funny, Inu-san. But no, we are having lunch with my brother.” You couldn’t really hear what they were saying right after he closed the door, but figured that they were still messing with him by Atsumu’s expression. “God, they are so annoying.” He grumbled when he got in the car. 

“Everything okay?” You looked at him in the eye, his brows were furrowed and a few creases showed his frustration and annoyance at his teammates. You ran your thumb across his forehead and smiled. “You are going to get wrinkles before you turn thirty, ‘Tsumu.” His ears turned red at your sudden touch and he tried to hide it by frowning even more. 

“Let’s just go.” He could almost swear his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He started the car engine and maneuvered in reverse turning his head back and his hand intentionally placed on the head rest of your seat. “You have plans for the holidays?” 

“My family is coming for Christmas and we are visiting some relatives not too far from here; and of course the awards, I might travel to Miyagi to see some friends but I’m not sure yet.” You played with the seatbelt as you recounted your plans. “What about you?”

“‘Samu and I are going to Hyogo to see our parents, we usually visit Kita and his grandma with the rest of the team the day after christmas and then Suna and I are driving to Tokyo for the party.” With his body slightly forward making sure there were no other cars, he took the turn to the avenue where Onigiri Miya was located, his finger drummed on the gear shift to the music from the radio. 

“Osamu is not going to the party?” You questioned. 

“He gave vacations to all of his employees and has to take care of the shop.” He explained and stopped the car in front of the shop. “I'm starving.” You took your seatbelt off and opened the door at the same time as him, not giving him time to open the door for you like he always did, but he was faster than you and opened the entrance door. It was almost noon so the shop was quite busy, people in the stalls and booths enjoying their food and talking about their days, the constant sound of silverware jingling and the smell of fresh rice welcomed you into the shop as you walked to the counter where Suna’s slouched figure waited. Atsumu greeted him with a pat on his back, making Suna turn around to shake hands and ‘bro hug’ him. “Where 's ‘Samu? 

“The kitchen, he should be done by now. Hi, Y/N.” Suna pushed Atsumu to the side and grinned at you lazily. 

“Hey Suna, I haven’t seen you since the match in Sendai.”  Like Hana, Suna got along with you pretty fast, you caught up with his sarcastic humor and easy going personality, he showed you a lot of photos from his high school memories, he was a great story teller, never missing embarrassing details and adding snarky comments here and there. On said match at Sendai, you finally figured out why he looked so familiar the first time you met him. It turns out he went to the same university as you and you interviewed the middle blocker once for an article when you were a journalist for your school’s newspaper. When you told him he laughed at you saying he already knew but wanted to see how long it would take you to figure it out.

“Well, you’ve been busy.” He looked to the side, his tone was bitter, the taste of defeat lingering on his tongue after losing the finals to the Black Jackals. 

“Don’t be a sore loser, Suna.” You said taking the seat by his side, almost missing his jaw clenching. “Losing is normal, you don’t have to feel bad about it.” You teased. 

“You are not going to let me live that one down, aren’t you?”  

“Absolutely not.” You looked at Atsumu this time, he was looking at his phone screen clearly bored, he was extremely moody when hungry, that’s something you learnt during the season when he would go quiet for hours and back to his usual self once he had something to eat. “You okay?” You asked and he laid his head on your shoulder. 

“I’m hungry.” He groaned. You gave him a few pats on the side of his face and felt his body relax to your touch as you continued your chat with Suna. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Osamu chimed in coming out of the kitchen, making his brother get up instantly. “Food is almost ready, before you ask.” 

“Perfect timing.” You heard a stern voice behind you and all three tensed, you looked behind you to see Kita removing his cap. “I need some help with the rice bags, mind helping me?”  Atsumu and Osamu made their way to the door and to Kita’s truck in no time, Kita trailing behind. 

“Why do you guys look so scared?” You asked Suna. 

“Are you kidding? Kita popped out of nowhere!” Suna whispered, as if Kita could hear him from outside the shop. “He’s really scary sometimes.” You rolled your eyes. Kita was intimidating and really severe, but not enough to make you shiver.

“You only say that because you guys always do something to upset him.” 

“That’s not true.” He exclaimed. 

“Nothing to hide, nothing to fear, dear.” The restaurant doors opened, showing Atsumu and Osamu fighting to get in first, pushing each other, Suna and you watched unamused, knowing one of them would get hurt sooner or later, you were now used to their sometimes not so playful fighting. Just as you were placing your bet with Suna, they stopped on their tracks and Osamu stepped back to let Atsumu walk in. “What just happened?” You asked yourself rather than Suna, Kita stood behind the twins , Atsumu walked past you and lifted the countertop door, leaving the rice bag on the cold table. You heard Osamu mumble ‘I’m sorry, Kita-san.’ from the door and went straight to the kitchen. You couldn’t believe how easily he made the twins calm down. 

“Sorry about that.” Kita apologized to you. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m already used to it.” You said calmly. Kita and Atsumu sat down and Osamu came out of the kitchen with another server, one plate of onigiri on each hand. You thanked him and the server who gave you a water bottle. Atsumu, as impatient as he was, scarfed down the extremely hot onigiri and immediately opened his mouth, steam came out from it and he whined in pain, placing his hand under his chin to prevent food from spilling. Everyone watched him jump on his seat chanting ‘hot, hot, hot’  as he tried to chew the rice ball, you giggled and opened his water bottle for him, when he finally swallowed his food he exhaled in relief and gulped down half of the contents from the plastic bottle. 

“Where are your manners, Atsumu? You can’t do that kind of thing in front of the girl you are courting.”  Kita reprimanded him and Atsumu choked on his water, little droplets spilling on the counter. Suna and Osamu couldn’t stop laughing at the setter — you were laughing too, but you felt bad for Atsumu— you made sure he wasn’t choking anymore and excused yourself to the bathroom, ears burning from Kita’s comment. “What was that?” Atsumu’s eyes almost popped out of his face. 

“What?” Kita asked, unbothered. 

“The girl you are courting? Really?” Atsumu stressed running his hands through his hair. 

“Well, aren’t you?” Kita inquired. 

“Yes! But it sounds weird when you say it like that.” Embarrassed, Atsumu rested his head on the counter looking at  Suna’s direction, Osamu wiped the wet surface and yanked Atsumu’s hair lightly to make him sit correctly as you joined them again, asking him if he felt better, he nodded and moved closer to you. As always, Osamu’s food was amazing and you had fun messing with Suna and Osamu, so much that you didn’t noticed the moment they all started planning the next reunion at your place, claiming that it was your initiation as the newest addition to the group, but you knew they just were nosy, even Kita was curious to know where you lived, so you couldn’t say no. 

You waited outside the restaurant with Kita who insisted on keeping you company while Atsumu and Suna helped Osamu with something in the back. “How are things going between you two?” He asked, completely aware of how vague the question was, just wanting to test the waters. You gulped and met his eyes.

“Atsumu and I? Uh, fine, I guess.” You answered uncertainly, tilting your head.

“He’s taking too long.” He asserted with his arms crossed.

“I guess you are right, but I don’t want to rush anything or make him feel like he has to do something when I could easily take the first step, but I’m afraid he’s not sure yet.” You rambled in your place, Kita grinned and looked away. “You meant inside the shop, right?” His grin widened at your question and you huffed in frustration. “That was not funny.” 

“I didn’t do anything, but now that you got that out of your system, I think that’s a conversation you should have with Atsumu. It’s almost painful seeing you two being limited by a simple title when you can fix that rather easily, I don’t know what’s stopping you.” He pondered. 

‘A lot of things.’ You thought. You fixed your eyes on the glass door, you could see Atsumu coming out of the kitchen along with his brother, he looked upset, dragging his feet with every step like a kicked puppy. “Think about it.” That was Kita’s final remark before Atsumu walked out the door, you waved goodbye to Osamu and Kita and walked to Atsumu’s car, feeling a familiar numbness on your limbs and the stinging sensation on your head increased with every passing minute. 

Kita’s words were crude, but you were sure he meant no harm, but even so, the last thing you wanted to do was thinking about the stage of your pseudo-relationship with Atsumu, the reality check tied to it was terrifying. You didn’t want to ruin everything, afraid of not being what he wanted but what he settled for, —or even worse, a distraction— you tried to shrug it all away, but it was hard to believe after all you went through. The thought of not being enough was enough to make you shiver, muscle memory taking you back to the time where you lost yourself to the viciousness of your own brain and it’s deprecating self speech of unworthiness and pity. 

You were stronger now, yes, but at what cost? You now lacked trust and silently craved reassurance or a sign that you were doing things right for yourself this time. 

Staring at the road lost in your thought you couldn’t hear Atsumu calling your name, you felt a big hand on your knee, moving it slightly to get your attention. “Are you okay?” He was clearly worried, luckily the traffic light turned red, you turned your head and stared at him confused. “You are a bit out of it since we left the restaurant.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking. You said something?” 

“I was saying that my building’s management called and said the complex is out of power and that it would take a few hours to fix the problem, and I asked you if I could stay with you for a few hours.” He repeated himself. 

“Sure, it’s still really early, we can watch a movie if you want to.” You offered trying to ease the tension. “Anything but Fast and Furious.” 

“Come on! They are amazing.” He protested. The light turned green and he moved the car.

“We watch them every time you are at my place.” You complained. “Let’s watch something else, it’s getting old.” Atsumu gasped, offended by your comment. 

“Terminator then.” He laughed at your annoyed expression and kept driving ‘til you reached your building’s parking lot. You changed your clothes while Atsumu picked the movie. He was really worried about you, what happened at the restaurant? He texted Kita asking if you said something or looked uncomfortable while he was being lectured by Osamu and Suna. ‘You need to talk.’ was Kita’s reply, sighing he left his phone on the coffee table and waited for you to come out of your room. 

‘I don’t know what game you are playing here, but don’t waste that girl’s time.’

Osamu’s words replayed in his head. Was he really taking too long? He knew the answer to that question, but uncertainty always fogged his thinking, and a thousand other questions creeped inside, making it harder for him to tell you how much he needed you. How much would things change if the unspoken pact you two created turned into a real talk, would you stay? 

He was not afraid of commitment, he was afraid that he never committed to anything that wasn’t volleyball, he didn’t know how to be a boyfriend but he knew he wanted to be yours. You never treated him differently and cared enough to see past the bad reputation he had, you cared about him. He got used to your nature but oftentimes forgot about how important stability can be, you weren’t teenagers anymore and sooner or later you would get tired. He had all the intentions, but just like you, the fear of not being enough held him back. 

You were scared of being replaced and he was scared to hurt you. 

“What are we watching?” You sat by his side and crossed your legs. You were now wearing a hoodie with the team logo and signature claw scratches, sweatpants and your hair was tied in a high ponytail. 

“I couldn’t pick one, so you choose.” He passed you the remote and laid back on the couch. You ended up watching Bride Wars, the two of you had terrible taste in movies so you alway went for the safe options, and you always ended up chatting halfway through and not paying attention to the film. 

“She deserves better than Fletcher anyway.” Atsumu played with your hair as the movie credits appeared on the screen, your back was on his chest raising slightly with his steady breathing. 

“She really did, she settled because she felt pressured.” You held his hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. 

“What do you mean?” He looked down at your hands now connected and smiled to himself. 

“When you spend that many years with someone you think the only reasonable thing is to stay forever with them, and sometimes that’s not what you want, but that realization comes really late, look at her, she was about to get married when she came to her senses, she was getting married because it was what everyone expected her to do, she had to convince herself she wanted it, that she wanted him.” You explained. “He made things hard for her, and still she tried to make it work for both of them, it wasn’t fair for her.” Atsumu hummed in agreement and noticed how your tone decreased with every word. You went silent for a while lost in your thoughts again. 

“You’ve been acting weird since we left the restaurant. What 's going on?” He asked, shifting in his place trying to get a better look of your face, your eyes were glossy and your brows slightly furrowed. 

“I don’t know.” You sighed heavily. “I’m scared.”  You played with the strings of your hoodie. “I don’t want to feel like someone just settled for me again.” You continued, fighting the memories from last year when you felt his arms tightening around you. “I don’t want to go through that again, I got so used to giving more than I could, to trying to do my best and beyond and still that wasn’t enough, I wasn’t enough.” You weren’t crying, there was nothing to cry about in the first place, you were just tired of battling your inner thoughts, you wanted a break.

“Don’t say that, your ex was an idiot for letting you go. Y/N, you are the most caring and dedicated person I’ve ever met, if anything, you were the one who settled for someone who couldn’t give his everything for you.” He felt the vibrations of your body as you chuckled. 

“Yeah, my friends always tell me that.”  He kissed your temple gently.

“See? He was just a scrub.”  ‘And I would treat you so much better.’

“Sorry I got too emotional.” You looked up and he placed another kiss on your forehead. 

“Don’t apologize for having feelings, it’s normal.” You raised an eyebrow and tried to break free from his embrace to rest your chin on his chest. “What?” He asked. 

“I never expected you to say something like that, you are very wary of showing your feelings.” You pointed out, running a hand through his blonde hair and he poked your side making you laugh, it was your turn to peck his chin. You enjoyed the comfortable silence that set between you two, propping your head on his chest close enough to hear his heart beating, eyes closed in bliss. You were safe. 

“I’m sorry for being too slow.” He said. “I think it’s obvious I like you, and while I enjoy what we have now, you deserve clarity and I need to get this out of my chest.” He made you sit correctly,  you lightly stretched your limbs as you got up. Atsumu took your hand and played with your fingers trying to word his thoughts. “I’m scared too. I’ve never been in a relationship and I didn’t know how to talk to you about this, I thought maybe you weren’t looking for something serious, especially with me, you know? But I like to think we are on the same page now.” You nodded and he continued. “Give me a few days, let me make it special for you to see I’m serious about this, and that I want to treat you better, please.” His eyes finally met yours. 

“Take all the time you need, ‘Tsumu, I think I need some time too and  I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything.”  

“You are not, stop saying that. I want this.” He grumbled frustrated.

“Me too.” You kissed the back of his hand and he hugged you again. You watched another silly rom-com and talked about the party a little more before Atsumu received a call from his building’s management to notify him that the power was restored, it was around 7 p.m. so he got ready to leave, with his keys in one hand and his phone in his pocket he walked to the door with you following behind. “I’ll see you at the party then.” 

“That’s a lot of time.” He complained.

“Stop whining, it’s just two weeks.”  You scrunched your nose when he bent down to kiss it.

“I’ll call you everyday if I can’t see you.” He smirked. 

“Please do.” You rolled your eyes. He puckered his lips, waiting for his mandatory goodbye kiss but you took the chance to pinch his lips with your fingers making him instantly step back. “Good night, ‘Tsumu.” You said before he could say anything and closed your door. A muffled ‘That’s not fair.’ could be heard from the other side, Atsumu stared at your door, he tensed his jaw and shook his head for a second. He couldn’t hide the lovesick grin adorning his face as he walked to his car. 

He had two very long weeks ahead.   

(a/n: uh hELLO, this chapter ruined all my planning but i think those two are really cute, now QUICK QUESTION, would you like to see what iwaizumi aka mr. cheater is up to??? maybe?? no??? you guys tell me! i have the wip but idk if y’all would like to see it, i’ll be reading y’all. anyways, remember the fic has a playlist and y’all can check it out, also if you have song recs to add i would love to hear them!! i hope everyone is healthy and doing great at school or work :)) please stay safe and wear your masks!!) 

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