#i was confused out of my ass like did i miss breakfast? should i bury myself in guilt already?? what a bad daughter I'm being!

[irritablepoe]

The wrath of a god is more gentle than mine rn

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

hii :)

could you do a drabble where the reader and yoongi were in an arranged marriage for a while. She thought that Yoongi cheated on her so she asked for a divorce. Yoongi as a cold husband pleaseee !! So Yoongi gives her a rough + angry sex ?? to prove he's not cheating? hehehhe

love all your writings btw, you have so much ideas to be posting lots in a day !!! :)

thank youu !

damn this turned out bigger than normal cuz-- plot... and i didn't want to write a pt2 so i'm just putting it under the cut and let's just still pretend it's a "drabble"

You didn’t remember much from that night. Just some general feelings, like how annoyed and lonely you were. How you needed your husband but he wasn’t there. When you woke up the next morning, head throbbing from your hangover, Yoongi was missing from your shared bed. And even though you didn’t want to assume things, when you noticed multiple hickeys on his neck later that day, you had no choice but to think of the only logical conclusion: your husband was cheating on you.

It hurt. Sure, your marriage had been arranged, so perhaps he didn’t really want to be with you. But somewhere in the process of it all, you had fallen for him. He was always serious and keeping his guard up around you, but there were moments that you thought deep down he was actually a nice guy. And that he cared for you. I guess you were wrong. Who would ever do such a thing to someone they care about even the slightest?

At first, you thought you could put it past you. This was more of a contract than a marriage anyway, from the beginning. But it hurt you every time you saw him, every time he did a tiny, little nice thing for you, like cooking you breakfast or texting you to let you know he would be home late. As if you two were actually a couple. It hurt you so much you needed to put an end to it.

“I want a divorce.” You didn’t wait for the right time or something like that, just blurted it out one evening right after you had gotten done eating in mostly silence.

Yoongi was still in control over his facial expressions, yet barely. A tiny frown, a tiny widening of his eyes gave his shock away. “What? Why?”

You took a deep breath, looking away to be able to keep your composure; looking at him made your knees too weak. “I agreed on this marriage. I agreed to try and make it work even though I knew it would be hard,” you explained. “But I will not tolerate cheating. I want a divorce.”

“Cheating?” His voice was low, truly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I know, Yoongi. You don’t need to pretend.”

“What? I never-”

“I saw the hickeys you had all over you last Sunday.” The sentence shut him up, blank face taking its place over his shocked expression and you couldn’t read him. You gulped. “Or are you gonna claim those were mosquito bites?”

And then Yoongi laughed. Sound so contrasting to his usual attitude, sending chills down your spine. It didn’t last long, however, face serious again as he stared at you intensely. “Are you serious right now?” he barked, and you were starting to feel a bit scared. He took a step towards you. “You really don’t know who gave me those hickeys?”

You frowned, taken aback by his answer. “How would I- What does it matter?”

Yoongi chuckled again, reaching you across the kitchen until he was just a breath away. Looking down at you with dark eyes. “You were so fucking wasted that night, I guess I need to refresh your memory,” he whispered. And before you could even react, he lifted you up, legs straddling his waist as you yelped, arms snaking around his shoulders awkwardly as you were trying not to fall while he carried you to your bedroom.

“Yoon-”

“See?” he said, dropping you on the bed sideways. And his body loomed over yours. “This is where you laid while you were begging me to fuck you dumb. Do you not remember?” You gasped at his words, squirming in order to escape. But his hands were on your waist, pinning you down, and suddenly you knew the feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. This had happened before. “Now what?” Yoongi growled into your ear. “You want to divorce me because you were sucking my neck and I was too weak to pull you away too fast? I did. It was so fucking hard but I pulled away and left because... I told you many times that if this was gonna happen, it should happen the right way. Not when you are black-out drunk. But you were crying and telling me how badly you wanted me. I had to jerk off alone because of how hard you got me with your begging. Was that all the alcohol talking? You didn’t even look at me the next morning.”

You had never heard him talk so much. And your face was burning as that night got clearer in your memories. As the realization that Yoongi wanted you as much as you wanted him settled in. “Yoongs, I-”

“No, shh…” He placed a finger over your lips. “You really have the audacity to think I’m cheating on you when all I’ve been doing is falling for you? Trying to turn this marriage into something actually nice? I’ve been trying to fuck you for so long, you really think I give a shit about fucking anyone else?”

The way his words affected you was surely clear to him as well. Your legs tried to close, yet only resulted in caging him against your hip harder, pushing him down until you could feel his hard dick through his pants. “I- I didn’t know, I…”

Yoongi ground down on you harder, breath unsteady and hot over your lips. “Tell me now, once and for all,” he whispered while his hands started roaming over your body, not even touching you anywhere specifically yet making you gasped with every graze. Distance between you so short it was intoxicating your brain. “Tell me if you want me to stop right now, and I won’t bother you again. Otherwise, I will not stop even if you’re begging me later.” His voice was so coarse you could tell his brain was rotten with want as well. Staring at your lips, waiting for the green light to devour them, probably barely registering anything else.

“Yoongi,” you whined. “Need you… Don’t stop…”

His mouth on yours was such a relief, lips and tongue soft as they played against yours. It didn’t last long before he was groaning, backing off to pull your shirt over your head aggressively, discarding his as well, and grabbing you by the waist to push you further up the bed. His skin was hot on yours, his mouth instantly back on your neck, giving you the treatment you had given him that forgotten night. And his roaming hands found your pants to pull them down while you were distracted. One slipping in your underwear to steal a touch of your center.

“Fuck,” he choked. And then he grabbed a fistful of your hair to turn your head to look at him. “What a nice, wet pussy. And you really thought I’d wanna fuck anyone else’s?” He looked mad when he pulled your clothes completely off you, getting naked as well. Hand wrapped around his thick member, allowing you only one glance before he was over you again, tip brushing against your entrance. “Let me show you, baby,” he rasped, and you were mewling under him. “This pretty pussy is mine, this is the one I want.”

“Yoon…” Your whine was interrupted when he pushed into you, not giving you any room to get used to his dick. His lips were on yours again, hand on your hair pulling it harshly as he started thrusting into you right away. You felt euphoric, your husband finally fucking you hard after all this time of suffering the sexual tension alone. And your fingers scratched his back while moans escaped into his bruising kiss.

Yoongi gave you a few very deep thrusts, hitting your cervix and making you cry before he pulled away again. “Feel that, baby?” he groaned. “Feel how well I’m fucking you- that’ll shut you up, won’t it?” He pulled out, grabbing your hips and flipping you around with no warning. He grabbed you by the ankles to drag you closer to him, and then slapped your ass hard.

“Ah, Yoongi!” You raised your ass higher, on your knees while your face was buried in the sheets.

“That’s right, baby,” he said in a low voice. And he spanked you again. “Scream my name.” Another spank, softer than the others, while he stroked and kneaded your ass. “Scream your husband's name to let everyone know who’s fucking you so hard.” And he buried his cock deep inside you again. “Scream my name to remind yourself that you have me, baby.”

You were a panting mess. Your orgasm building inside you so wildly that you felt like you were about to combust instead of cum. And you dared sneak a hand down to rub your clit while you were moaning his name like a prayer. “Oh, Yoongi, please… Fuck, please…”

He smacked your hand away when he noticed, growling and grabbing your hair to pull it until your back was arched, mouth coming right next to your ear to whisper dangerously. “If you’re gonna cum, you���ll cum because of my cock inside you. Got it?”

You were nodding immediately. Although you were probably gonna cum because of his deep voice and harsh dirty words. “I’m gonna…”

“Good girl,” he growled, diving his teeth in the side of your neck. And it was what did it for you, shouting out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your vision turned black, pussy pulsing frantically around him.

“Shit,” he gasped, hips faltering. Then he let go of your hair only to grab your neck from the front, still pulling you back to have his face buried in your nape. “Gonna let me paint those pussy walls white with my cum, baby?” And you were moaning again at that, feeling like you were gonna cum again before you even came down from your previous high. Yoongi smacked your ass abruptly, making you yelp and give him the permission he needed. And he hummed, satisfied, his hips finding the rhythm he needed to finish. “My lovely wife,” he whispered sweetly even though his actions were anything but that. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you good all the time. Just so you know I don’t even have the fucking time to be seeing anyone else.” And then he spilled into you for the very first time.

Masterlist

[sundaysundaes]

Make a Wish

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | College AU

Summary: It’s your birthday today and instead of giving you a box of gift, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, decides to grant five of your wishes. You can’t help but feel a smirk creeping up your face. It’s time to get a little… creative.

This can be read as a stand alone but if you want to read it in order, you can start with Before Our Story Began and Jealousy. 

You were having a dream. A really nice dream about your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, where for once in his twenty-years of living, he promised himself not to whine about anything ever again for the rest of his life. He was situated in difficult positions—got an F for the papers that he’d worked on for days, overcooked his eggs until they tasted like a pile of ashes in his mouth during breakfast, or lost a battle because Jaemin was too distracted with Jeno’s dick rubbing against his ass during the game. And even then, he did not form any complaint or whine with his head thrown back like how he usually would’ve done. It was a pleasant dream, seeing him all mature like that.

But then you woke up to the sound of that boyfriend of yours, screaming—literally screaming—directly to your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL,” as if it wasn’t the middle of the night where he could wake up the whole dorm.

So now, you’re glowering at him with bleary eyes, wiping your drool away with the back of your hand. Haechan shows his phone screen, grinning when he sees you noticing with squinted eyes that it’s 00.00 am and the date written underneath it is your birthday.

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter, sinking your face back into the pillow and pulling the blanket over your head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Haechannie.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Your boyfriend is loud, too loud. You understand that Jaemin is having a sleepover at Jeno’s place so Haechan has the entire room for himself but that does not give him the right to scream right next to your ear like this. Especially when you’re this sleepy with nothing but exhaustion pumping through your veins.

“Noona~” He shakes you by the shoulder, peeling the blanket off your body and succeeding, even when you’ve tried your best to keep it tangled around you. “Come on, it’s your birthday. We have to celebrate!”

“We’ll celebrate when the sun is out. Like normal people.”

“No way, come on! You can sleep some other time!”

“You can be annoying some other time.”

He huffs loudly, puffing out his cheeks. “If you don’t get up, I’ll do things to you.”

You sigh. You know what kind of things he’s referring to and as much as you love it, you’re really drained from the part-time job you did earlier today. It’s true that you haven’t had sex with him for more than a week or so and you kind of miss doing those sort of things with him but you’re just so tired that you ended up crashing face-first on his bed earlier this evening the second you arrived in his room. You hadn’t even kissed him properly yet.

“Okay, fine.” You sit up on his bed with your shirt—or rather, his shirt—all wrinkled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “What do you want us to do? If it’s sex, you have to wait because I’m dead tired right now.”

“I wanted to give you your present, actually.” But the way he juts out his bottom lip seems like sex was exactly what he had in mind.

“Okay, so where is it?” You ask, considering you don’t really see him carrying a box of gift with a red bow wrapped around it.

“Well, it’s kinda predictable for me to be giving you like an actual present, so I thought hey, maybe I can grant you a wish. Any kind of wish,” he emphasizes, raising that eyebrow of his in the way he knows you like it. “If you know what I mean.”

You ignore him completely, though the sight of his sexy smirk still leaves you unfocused for a good few seconds. “Only one? On my birthday? Do you even want to do this or are you just making an excuse for not buying me a present?”

“Yah!” He scrunches his nose, playfully jabbing a finger to your stomach. “I don’t see you granting me any wishes on my birthday!”

“You wanted to come inside me and I allowed you to do just that. Twice. Stop being so ungrateful.”

That wipes the playful angry look off his face almost instantly. “You’re right, fine,” he concedes, looking at you with a disinterested look in his eyes. “How many wishes do you want then?”

“I don’t know, like, fifty?”

“The hell? Do I look like Santa to you?”

“If you keep eating those samgyeopsal past midnight, your belly will.”

“Stop body-shaming me, you little—“ He suddenly leaps over, attacking you with tickles to the sides of your stomach until you fall back to the bed with his bare chest hovering over your body. You retaliate by moving your legs around, trying to kick him away but failing every time. You can barely hold back your laughter. He only stops when your face grows scarlet and your chest heaving up and down, slightly out of breath. “I’ll give you three wishes,” he offers, a bit breathless as well. “Only because you look so irresistible right now with those lips of yours.”

“Make it ten, then.” You play with his necklace, twisting it around your finger. Your other hand draws a line on his golden skin, starting from the column of his neck down to his chest. “And I’ll be even more irresistible.”

“Hmm, tempting.” His lips slowly breaking into a sultry smile. “But no. I’ll give you three and that’s final.”

“If you give me five,” you say, hooking a finger around his silver necklace this time so you can bring his face down to yours and whisper in his ear, “I’ll let you cum in my mouth later today.”

His entire face beams up almost like a kid on his first school trip. “You get yourself a deal, sister!”

You smile, caressing his cheek softly with your fingers. His gaze softens, leaning against your touch like how a kitten would. “Well then, here’s my first wish,” you speak softly as if you’re telling a secret. Your lips are just a few inches away from his, and he licks his lower lip in anticipation. “No doing sexual activities whatsoever with me on my birthday.”

That sensual, excited look he has on his face earlier? Gone, being immediately replaced by sheer horror. “What?!” He shrieks when his realization sinks in. “BUT YOU SAID YOU’D LET ME CUM IN YOUR MOUTH LATER TODAY!”

You grin at him, almost cackling out loud. “It’s not fun being on the other side of a prank, is it now, Haechannie?”

“You’re so—” But even the infamous Lee Haechan can be at loss for words. “Not even a kiss?”

“Not even a hug,” you clarify, pushing his body away with both hands so he ends up sitting on his heels, only in his boxer. “I’ll allow you to hold my hands but that’s it.”

“But why?” The way he whines the word ‘why’, loud and long, is just so him. “Hugging is like a totally normal thing to do! People hug all the time! Even kids do! It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“It becomes sexual when you keep popping out a boner during one.”

“Screw you.”

“Not today, Haechannie. Not today.”

***

Haechan, no matter how bratty he can act from time-to-time, does keep his promise intact. He hasn’t touched you for like eight hours by now, even when you were taking a shower inside his room and ‘accidentally’ leaving the bathroom door open. You heard him groan, “Seriously? You’re doing this to me now? You’re torturing me, Nooonaaaaa~” once during your shower, but he didn’t act on his desire. You’re actually quite surprised. You know just how much this is driving him crazy.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” you say, already looking all dolled up in the red dress he once bought for you. You know how much he likes it, know how much his eyes ogle your body from top-to-toe, staring at the way the fabric hugs your body perfectly, emphasizing your every curve.

He glares at you menacingly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” You play dumb, though you're sure your grin betrays you. “Come on, I’m starving. I’ll let you hold my hand as we walk, just make sure don't get a hard-on in the meantime.”

“Have I told you I hate you today?”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

The cafe near the dormitory you usually visit to get your daily intake of calories is closed for the day. “Why are they closed?” You ask, adjoining your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Maybe the old man has diarrhea or something.” He shrugs, hands buried deep inside the pocket of his black ripped jeans. The way they tightly hug his legs, combined with those holes, is becoming very distracting for you. “I sure as hell, hope so.”

“Will you let it go already? It was an honest mistake.”

“How on earth is putting wasabi in my cream soup an honest mistake? He totally did that on purpose!”

“Yeah, well, knowing how you just straight-up told him he looked like a walrus, I’m not even surprised he spiked your soup.”

“Now that’s an honest mistake, in which I tried to be honest but came out as a mistake.”

“You didn’t have to tell him he looked like a walrus, though.”

“But he did!” He groaned, stomping his feet on the ground. “He totally did! Look me in the eyes and tell me he didn’t look like a walrus, come on, I dare you.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always one for the dramatic. “Should we go somewhere else? How hungry are you right now?”

“For your love?” He smirked, sending you a flirty wink. “Starving.”

You make an exaggerated gesture of you vomiting your insides. “If you’re not that hungry, wanna just go grab some crepes and take a walk in the park?”

“Sure, why not.” His shoulders are relaxed as he yawns unattractively, though it still counts as adorable in your book. “Let’s drop by to that bakery you told me before on the way home. I’m gonna buy you a birthday cake.”

That earns a surprised smile from you. “I didn’t think you’d be this thoughtful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always thoughtful.”

“Is calling a middle-aged man a walrus a form of your thoughtfulness?”

He snorts, tilting his head to the side with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Since when did you get this sassy?” You’re about to put another retort when he suddenly kisses your cheek.

“Hey!” You abruptly step away from him, palming the side of your face. “What did I tell you about my wish again?”

He grins, eyes turning into a cute pair of crescents. “Honest mistake, babe.”

And you poke him in the abs until he drops to his knees, whining, “Whyyyyyyyy?” into the air.

There’s this park near your campus that has nice scenery—unexpectedly picturesque, even—with a huge fountain in the center of it. The green leaves of the camphor trees sway from the morning breeze, intoxicating you with a scent similar to how the pine trees smell after the rain. Children are running around, playing tags, with their parents sitting next to the fountain, busying themselves with their phones while occasionally mutters, “Be careful, don’t run too much!” from time-to-time because apparently, that’s what parents do these days.

Haechan exhales loudly as he takes a seat on the nearest bench, straightening his legs and patting a spot beside him. “Come here. I want to cuddle.”

“There are people around.”

“Since when cuddling becomes a crime?”

“It makes people uncomfortable.”

“You saying no makes me uncomfortable.”

You sigh. There’s no way of winning an argument with him. “Fine, but I’m not sitting on your lap,” you say, ignoring his pout as you take a seat next to him and hand him his chocolate-banana crepes. “Careful, you’re wearing a white shirt,” you warn, offering him his spoon. “It’ll be hard to take the stain off if—”

“I’m not a child,” he grumbles, taking the food roughly off your hand and grimacing when the chocolate syrup drips down to his shirt, staining the fabric. He blinks in surprise with his mouth wide open, before he looks back at you, only to receive a flat stare in return.

“I literally just told you that a second ago.”

Haechan shrugs. “It’s Jaemin’s shirt anyway, so I don’t care.”

With that, you bring your focus back to the food in your hand—a strawberry crepes with a scoop of vanilla ice cream—and takes a bite, almost moaning in delight when the sugary taste hits your tongue. “Man, why did I ever decide to go on a diet? This tastes so gooooood~”

Your smile and small giggle seem to be contagious because Haechan mirrors you almost in the same way though it has nothing to do with the dessert he’s holding. He observes, silently taking notes of the joyful expressions you display on your face while muttering, “How cute,” under his breath. Both of you take a moment to enjoy your so-called breakfast, sometimes taking a sip of your hot coffee to balance the sweet.

“You know,” Haechan says as he gnaws at his dessert again. “This isn’t really how I expected to go when I said I’d grant your wishes.”

“Yeah?” You decide to humor him, though you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you expect me to wish for something else?”

He nods, licking chocolate syrup off his spoon. “Something about you sitting on my face.”

You choke on a piece of strawberry you just plopped into your mouth, and you can feel it blocking your airways. “What are you—” Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes, as you begin to cough fervently.

“What are you, a kid?” Haechan pulls your hair away from your face, patting your back. “There, there.”

“Why on earth would I ask about that?!” You shout when you can properly breathe again.

“I don’t know, I just thought that maybe you wanted me to eat you out.” The way he shrugs so nonchalantly as if he’s simply talking about finding a typo in the papers he just submitted leaves you dumbfounded. “I mean, I kept teasing you about it during sex but never really did it since you were always too stubborn to beg.”

“And do you realize now how annoying you are in bed?”

“That’s not my intention, though!” He genuinely seems a bit guilty. “You just look so cute trying to hold back when it’s obvious you want my tongue inside you—”

“We’re in public, Jesus Christ—”

“It’s your pride that we have a problem with. Why can’t you just for once say, with teary eyes, ‘Haechannie, please, fuck me with your tongue’—”

“People can hear—stop it!” You try to clamp your palm around his mouth, but he dodges it perfectly and places a playful kiss on the back of your hand instead. “And are you seriously begging me to beg you for it? I don’t think that’s how it works, Hyuck.”

“It’s because I actually really want to eat you out,” he groans, sighing into the air, “But I also want to see that cute embarrassed look on your face—do you see how big of a problem this is for me?” His whine falls short when he notices the look on your face. “Wait, are you blushing?”

“I’m not!” But you know you are, you’ve never been so ashamed before. How can you not? Your boyfriend is now a) talking about eating you out, loudly, in public, b) there’s this one passerby, a middle-aged woman who dresses in way too many layers for a day as hot as this, looking at you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen displayed on a person’s face, and c) Haechan is still talking about it. “Shut up and just get away from me!”

“Noona, your face is so red!” He’s giggling to himself now, his crepes dribbling more chocolate syrup onto his shirt from how much he’s moving. “Did I get you excited? Does this mean you’re gonna—”

“Next wish! I’ve already thought about my next wish!” You quickly avert his attention, desperately pushing his face with one hand so he’ll stop making kissy faces at you. “I want you to perform a song.”

“What, here?”

“Yeah, you don’t have a problem singing in front of people, right?”

“Of course not,” he snorts loudly. “I have an amazing voice. You know, people should really be paying me to hear me sing, actually.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, though deep down in your heart, you kind of admit that he really does have an amazing voice. His vocal is unique and distinct, easily noticeable even if there are a hundred vocalists in the room. And the way he does his adlibs whenever he sings his favorite tunes actually makes the song sounds a thousand times better. There’s no way you’re going to tell that to his face, though. His ego is already big enough without you feeding him compliments.

“Well then, you’re in luck.” You grin mischievously, nodding your head toward a band that’s been playing acoustic songs near the fountain for quite some time. There are three people playing instruments, with one of them being the vocalist and you comment inwardly in your head that Haechan sounds so much better than him—but maybe you’re just biased. The band is promoting their demo album, trying to get people’s attention to recognize their self-composed songs and buy their album if they fit their taste. No crowds  are gathering in front of them, and you feel kind of sorry because they actually sound pretty good. “If you follow my wish and do it right, you could probably get some tips along the way.”

“You want me to sing with the band? I don’t think they’ll allow me though.”

“They will. I’ll buy their album in exchange.”

Haechan doesn’t seem eager at the slightest. “Must we waste our money away?”

“What, are you scared?” You taunt, raising one of your eyebrows challengingly because you know how much he hates to lose. And it works as expected, because Haechan is now standing up, throwing the rest of his crepes away to the nearest trash bin, and cracks his knuckles.

“Lee Haechan never runs away from a challenge.” He has this annoying cocky grin displayed on his face. “Tell me what song you want me to sing.”

“Your favorite. Man in The Mirror.”

“Dude, I nailed that song. Is this even a challenge?” He clicks his tongue, cocking his head. “So easy.”

He already has taken a few steps away, heading toward the band, when you stop him dead on his tracks by saying, “I know you nailed it. That’s why we have to keep it interesting so here’s my wish: I want you to sing out of tune.”

Even if you said that he was turning on his heels at the speed of light, it wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration. “NO FUCKING WAY.”

“Ah, but sadly,” you fake a pout, mocking him, “You promised you’d grant my wish.”

“But that’s just stupid! Why would I do something like that? Why would anyone do something like that?” He shakes his head furiously. “And doing this to my favorite singer?! Hell no!���

“Haechannie.”

“No.”

“Haechannie.”

“NO.”

You sigh, walking closer to him and pull him down by the hand to close the gap between your heights and murmur in his ear. “If you do that,” you breathe out, trying your best to sound as sexy as you can, “I might consider buying that customized dildo you want this weekend.”

Haechan has his jaw hanging low on his face, looking at you with his wide eyes shaking in disbelief. “Oh my God,” he whines, placing both hands on your shoulders before rocking you back and forth. “Noonaaaaa~ This is soooo not fair. You can’t do this to me!”

You chuckle at how childish he is. “So, how is it going to be, Lee Donghyuck-sshi?”

He contemplates hard about it—really hard, probably the hardest thinking he ever did in his entire life—nibbling on his lower lip as he does it. After a moment has passed, he finally ends it with his signature pout. “But you promise, right? No pranking me this time?”

“I promise,” you say with a firm nod but you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

“Fine,” he says as if it was the heaviest decision he has ever made. “Then, I’ll sing… off-key—eww!” He sticks out his tongue, clutching his arms around his stomach. “I’m about to throw up my crepes just by thinking about it.”

“Good luck.” You pat his shoulder. “Oh, and make sure you sing the first part like you always do, so people will notice and start listening to how amazing your voice is. And when they’re so into it, as you get to the second chorus, that’s when you start singing off-key.”

Haechan’s eyes are lifeless when they bore into you. “Isn’t it time for you to go back to hell, Satan?”

“Remember, Haechannie,” you press a finger to your lips, winking at him. “Customized. Dildo.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too.”

So both of you get into the business. After the band performed an acoustic version of their titled song, you approach them with a smile, offering your hand to the vocalist. You tell them how talented they are, making sure to bedazzle them with compliments and your charming attitudes so things can go as planned. It’s actually not that hard trying to convince them to accompany your boyfriend sing, especially when you say you’re going to buy two of their demo albums.

“What song do you want to sing, dude?” The vocalist, a friendly man most likely in his twenties with a goatee on his face, asks Haechan while offering a fist bump. Your boyfriend grimaces, bumping his fist against him like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever done.

“Something wrong?” The man asks. “You look kinda pale, man.”

“He just ate something bad during breakfast earlier,” you come to answer him instead, rubbing Haechan’s back soothingly. “But he’s fine now. Can you guys play Man in The Mirror?”

“Michael Jackson, right? Sure thing.”

You elbow your boyfriend playfully on the side of his stomach. “Sure thing, he said.”

“I want to die.”

“Aaw, poor baby,” you pucker your lips, having the best time of your life making fun of him. “Now off you go, I’ll be right here.” And you bring your iPhone in the air, camera-ready with a tap of your thumb. Haechan has his eyes on the standing microphone, looking at it like it’s the most horrifying thing he’s ever witnessed in his life.

Haechan just barely takes a step forward before he runs back to your spot again, all jumpy and twitchy. “I can’t—I can’t do this—this is so embarrassing—”

“On three, okay, man?” The vocalist takes a seat on one of the little stools they have placed next to the amplifiers with his Fender guitar placed firmly on his lap. And before Haechan can give him a nod or any sign in return, he begins counting and the entire band plays the song. There’s no way out of this now.

Haechan finally walks toward the mic with his soul most likely leaving his body with every step he takes.

You give him a cheer as loud as you can—not to support him, but so you can gather people’s attention. Haechan shushes you down in panic before he finally takes the mic, constantly throwing ice daggers at you with his eyes. You begin to chant his name—“Lee Donghyuck! Lee Donghyuck!”—and with every shout of it, Haechan dies a little bit more.

Haechan falls two beats behind before he finally sings into the microphone, his voice resonating through the air. He does sound amazing, albeit a little nervous and that’s probably just because he’s doing the dare. He usually sounds confident, his voice sounding strong and clear not caring if the room is empty or filled with people so this anxious version of him really makes you think that maybe you’ve forced him a little bit too far.

He completes the first part of the song rather easily and the entire band behind him nod their heads along to the music, amazement sparkling in their eyes. You can see the vocalist quietly mouths, “Damn, he’s good,” to the member sitting beside him who shortly agrees wholeheartedly. You can’t help but smile at that, looking like a proud mom.

People, one-by-one, begin to gather around you, whispering to one another, asking, “Who is he? What band is this?” or simply praising his vocal and your smile grows wider. It vanishes almost instantly, though, the second you hear some girls chattering behind your back, talking about how attractive Haechan looks—especially in that leather jacket and those dark combat boots he’s wearing. You never pegged yourself to be a jealous, overprotective girlfriend before but with Haechan, perhaps you’re beginning to turn exactly into that.

Haechan, who seems pretty pleased with how he sang the first part, suddenly begins to fidget on his feet. The more he gets closer to the second chorus, the paler he becomes and he has his eyes tightly shut when he’s finally there, singing the first two lines in the right way before forcing himself to sing off-key.

You blurt out laughing but immediately clasp a hand over your mouth. Haechan looks like he’s in pain, and the rest of the band has their eyebrows furrowed in question, looking back and forth at each other, probably asking, what the hell is wrong with this dude, he was doing so good before. The audience begins to look at one another, eyebrows knitting in concern. New visitors stop in their tracks, looking at your boyfriend with judging looks on their faces. Even the parents that were so busy with their phones before begin to lift their heads from the screen, trying to know who is this terrible singer and why is he wailing like this.

Haechan sounds so awful and you can only imagine how much this is killing him from the inside. He barely gets to the end of the second chorus before he turns to face the band, bowing his head and shouting, “I’m so sorry!” before he scrambles on his feet, running toward you.

“Wait, Hyuck, you haven’t finished—” Your protest ends in laughter when Haechan rashly hooks an arm around your shoulder, breaking through the crowd and forcing you to match his steps so you can leave the park for good.

He’s never stepping into this place ever again, you’re sure of it.

***

On the way back to the dorm, you stop by the bakery you’ve been wanting to visit and Haechan buys you a birthday cake as promised but with a permanent pout displayed on his place.

“A cake for your girlfriend?” The cashier lady asks with a friendly smile.

Haechan simply pouts harder, muttering, “Yes, my super annoying girlfriend.” And you pop out from behind his back, raising a hand in the air as you beam at her with a cheeky grin, “Yep, that’s me!”

Haechan walks next to you on the sidewalk as if he just did the longest marathon he ever did in his life—all drained out and slow on his steps. His shoulders are hunched forward, his eyes droopy and every time you take a peek and share a glance at him, he’ll start fuming again—like an angry child, upset for being left alone in his grandma’s house while the whole family went on a trip.

“Okay, knowing how fast you’re walking right now,” you mutter sarcastically, looking at the nonexistent watch you wear around your wrist for dramatic effects, “We’ll be back in our dorm at approximately eighty-four years from now.”

“Whatever. I’m still angry at you.”

“But we just started! I thought you wanted to make me happy.” You try to look as sad as possible, batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s my birthday, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware that making you happy equals giving me emotional distress.” After two seconds passed by in silence, he adds, “And physical pain.”

You smile at the attitude he’s giving, wondering just how cute can this man be by the end of the day. Maybe you should keep torturing him a little.

Just a little bit more.

“Haechannie,” you roll his name off your tongue in a playful manner, wrapping both arms around his right one. “I’m ready for my next wish.”

“Didn’t you listen to any word I just said?”

“See that old lady over there?”

“Yeah, you clearly didn’t.” Haechan follows your gaze with a heavy sigh, not quite pleased with how easily you ignore his complaints, and he sees a grey-haired woman, old enough to be his grandmother, sitting alone on a bench with a book on her hands and her glasses hanging dangerously low on the bridge of her nose. Her cane lays still on her side, and by the look of it, she appears to be waiting for someone.

“Oh come on, leave her alone,” Haechan says, already looking sorry for her even when you haven’t said anything yet. “She’s so old and she looks so frail. I am not going to do your stupid dare at the cost of her life.”

You roll your eyes.“Relax, I won’t ask something that stupid.”

“Oh, because your first wish was just so brilliant, I suppose?”

“I’m serious, I’m not that mean.” Not to her, at least. “I just want you to sit next to her on the bench and act like it’s the worst day of your life.”

“I won’t be calling that acting,” he grumbles. “I am having the worst day of my life.”

“What? I thought we’re having fun!” You try so hard to look sympathetic enough for him but it’s almost an impossible deed to do when you’re seconds away from laughing.

“You’re having fun.” He squints his eyes menacingly. “I’m having a fucking seizure.”

“You’re fine, don’t be too dramatic.” You card your fingers through his hair, pushing back the bangs from his eyes to showcase his temple exactly the way you like it. “Well, I want you to act sad—like, really sad, bawling your eyes out and everything—and when she asks you why, explain that you just found out you’re adopted.” You press something against his palm. “Here.”

Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he takes a look at it. “What’s this?”

“A postcard with a picture of your parents. I just bought it at the minimart before when you were in the bakery.”

“But…” He stares in horror. “They’re Americans.”

“Exactly.” You know there’s a shit-eating grin blooming on your face but you cannot wipe it off. “You can walk away after she tries to comfort you or give you some advice or something.”

Haechan keeps scowling at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, but you charm him with your brightest smile until he sighs and tucks the postcard in the back pocket of his jeans. “You know I’ll pay you back for this later, right?”

“Wha—I thought you said you’ll grant me any wishes for free!”

“MAN, IF I COULD JUST TURN BACK TIME—“ He yanks out his hair, making you a bit worried because you love his soft, adorable brown locks and he’s been tugging at them for quite some time today. “Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I no longer have any shame left in my body anyway. Or soul, for that matter.” He turns on his heels, straightening his jacket as if that could give him more courage. “You better not blink your eyes.”

“It’s okay even if I do.” You bring out your phone, waving it in the air. “’Cause I’m recording it. This will go viral on Youtube.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

It takes a good ten minutes for Haechan to prepare himself for the stupid dare he’s about to do, even though he previously claimed he had no shame whatsoever. He paces back-and-forth at the sidewalk, stomping his feet once or twice restlessly, and mutters quietly to himself, “Man up. Man up, you idiot. It’s just a stupid dare.” You desperately want to have a miniature size of this Haechan and keeps him inside your pocket so you can watch him being nervously cute all day long with his cheeks puffed in anger.

���Okay, I’m going.” And he finally steps forward, braver this time, and sits down on the other end of the bench, twiddling his fingers in anxiety. You bite your lip to contain your laughter and press record.

Almost fifteen seconds have passed by and there’s no reaction, not even a glance, coming from the old lady. You can see Haechan nibbling persistently on his lip, his feet tapping worriedly on the ground before he finally lets out the loudest, heaviest sigh in the history of mankind. It’s so loud that it makes the old lady jumps on her seat, her hands going to her chest, her book left abandoned on her lap. Haechan also looks surprised knowing that she’s surprised and everything just looks so hilarious that your camera begins to shake from how hard you try not to laugh.

“I-is there something wrong, my dear?” The old lady asks, shifting her body a little on her seat so she can face him properly.

Haechan takes a deep breath and begins his act by burying his face in his hands, faking a sob. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I just—” He sniffles loudly, trying to make it obvious to her that he’s in agony. “It’s the worst day of my life.”

And it’s cheesy, how he acts, but she seems to buy it—or maybe she’s just too kind. “May I ask what happened? I’m not sure I can help but…” She lands her shaky hand on his back, caressing him soothingly. “It’s always better to pour your feelings out instead of bottling them inside.”

She sounds so genuinely compassionate, unlike the maniacal laughter that currently tumbles down your lips.

Haechan lifts his head, turning towards her. His eyes begin to droop, making him look like a kicked puppy. “I just found out…” He sniffs for dramatic effects. “That… That I’m adopted!” And he loudly whimpers into his hands again.

The old lady gasps, covering her parted lips with her thin fingers. “Oh my… Did your parents tell you that?”

“No, it’s even worse. I found out on my own when they were talking in their room.” Haechan rummages his back pocket, handing her the postcard. “Here, look. It’s a picture of my parents.”

The lady takes the postcard with a pair of heartbroken eyes but they soon begin to change when she notices that the two people in the picture are straight-up Americans, while Haechan, needless to say at this point, looks like the most common—though far more handsome—Korean boy you can encounter on daily basis.

“I know,” Haechan says, wiping a nonexistent tear out of his eyes and fakes another sob. “Surprising, isn’t it? I mean, we look so much alike, there’s no way I would’ve guessed I was adopted if I didn’t hear them talking about it behind my back.”

The old lady is still pretty much dumbstruck with how bizarrely stupid everything is, but she’s too kind to call him out on it. She hands the postcard back to him, looking much less sorry this time, and takes a moment of silence. Haechan cries against his palms again, and you wonder if he’s only faking it or being real about it this time because the entire situation is just painfully awkward.

“You see, my dear,” she begins, voice gentle and reassuring but the sincerity isn’t really the same as before. “Sometimes it really can feel like the world is ending, and I know that this must be hard for you,” she stops to knit her eyebrows, “no matter how obvious this should’ve appeared to you. But maybe it’s not about having a picture-perfect family, but about finding beautiful moments.”

“You’re right,” Haechan hurriedly agrees, his eyes twinkling in delight knowing that this excruciating dare is about to end. “I’m happy with them being my family, even if they’re not, you know, really my parents.”

She smiles but it kind of looks like a grimace, and she says her next words with a gentle pat on his back. “But shouldn’t you have noticed about it sooner, though, dear? You look nothing like them.”

And Haechan winces, not sure how to react. “I could be, uhh…” He licks his lips nervously. “Quite dumb, sometimes.”

“Yes,” she nods, still patting his back. “You certainly can.”

A tall man, at least ten years older than Haechan, approaches their spot with a paper bag in his arms. “Mom, are you ready to—” he stops to take a look at your boyfriend, trying to understand the situation of why is his mother sitting way too close to a guy dressed flirtatiously in a leather jacket and boots with her hand caressing his back. “What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m adopted,” Haechan says, handing him the same stupid picture. “She’s just consoling me about it.”

He takes a look and sends him his biggest judging look. “Dude, what are you, stupid?”

***

Haechan is still fuming all the way back to his dorm and no matter how much you apologize about it, he still doesn’t want to talk to you. He throws himself on his bed with his shoes still on the second he enters his room. You’re still smiling quietly to yourself, can barely handle all the cuteness he’s emitting.

“Haechannie,” you gently call, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Are you still upset?”

No answer.

“Look, I said, I’m sorry. Talk to me, please?”

Haechan has his face pressed flat against his comforter and you secretly wonder whether he can even breathe in that position. A few seconds passed by in silence before Haechan finally mumbles, “Did it make you happy?”

“What, you doing my stupid dares?” You can already feel another laughter bubbling up your throat but you have to contain it. You can’t hurt him more than this. “Yes and I know I’ve been mean to you and I’m sorry for that, but you were so cute.” You run a hand along his spine before you carefully caress his hair as a mother would do to a child. “Please don’t be mad.”

He eventually sits up, crossing his legs on the bed, sniffling a little bit while still avoiding eye contact. “Well, I guess, as long as you’re happy.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” he states, practically puffing out his cheeks by now. “I’m just so embarrassed with all of this. Why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come here.” You motion him to come closer, and you know it’s breaking the rules of your first wish but you don’t care. This giant teddy bear desperately needs a hug.

Haechan immediately sighs when you stand with your knees pressed on the bed, wrapping both arms around his head. He sinks his face to the crook of your neck, lowly murmuring, “I hate you,” with his breath fanning your skin.

“You’ve been saying that a lot.”

“Yeah, because you’re mean.”

“But I love you even more today,” you softly reply, pulling away a little so you can trace your fingers along the smoothness of his cheek. “You’re so adorable, Hyuck, do you know that?”

“Is singing out of tune and harassing old lady your kink or something?”

“That’s not it.” You pinch the bridge of his nose, making him yelp a little. “It’s just the way you forced yourself to do these things—these things you hate the most—for me and asking me whether they made me happy or not, while still being all grumpy about it. You’re just so cute and I love you for that.”

The sun is setting outside his window, illuminating his face with such a warm, beautiful glow that somehow makes him appear a bit more melancholic and angelic at the same time. He finally drags his eyes back on yours, with his bottom lip still jutting out slightly. He says the next four words so quietly under his breath that you can barely hear them. “What?”

“I said, I love you too,” he repeats in a rush, before he sinks his face in the slope of your neck again, whining all the way. “Don’t make me say it like this, it’s weird.”

And you notice that this is actually the first time he truly confesses his love for you. He’s joked about it a lot, toying with your feelings at least ten times within a day, casually throwing the word love as if it meant nothing more than mere decoration for his flirtatious lines. But now that he’s saying it in all the seriousness he can muster, he can barely look you in the eyes, can barely say it without whispering, and it’s cute how the usually confident Lee Haechan, crumbles into nothing but a shy little boy facing his feelings for the first time.

“Ah seriously,” he murmurs against your hair. “What are you doing to me? I’m not usually like this.”

You can’t help but tease him. “Yes, you’re usually more satanic.”

“Yah—”

And you stop him with a soft kiss to his lips. You can feel him taking a sharp breath, his arms stiffening as they circle your waist. You’re about to kiss him again when you feel him tensing against your body. Noticing how he looks a bit baffled, you carefully tug yourself away. “What is it?”

“I thought you said we couldn’t kiss today,” he tells in such a small voice.

“I said no sexual activities,” you retort with a sly smirk, making a poor excuse because you really miss kissing him. “This isn’t sexual,” you say, pressing your lips against his again but stop before he can return it. “This is romantic.”

He’s so distracted with your lips that he can barely take his eyes off them even when he talks. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You can’t help but grin but it does not stay long when Haechan suddenly hooks his arm around your hip and pulls you closer until you’re forced to climb into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist for balance.

“Haechan—” Your protest is swallowed by his kiss, his lips chasing after yours almost frantically. You can tell how much he misses you from the way his lips move against yours, or from the way he moans softly at the back of his throat as he settles his hand on the side of your face. His other hand holds you tighter by the waist, his fingers fisting the fabric of your dress. He angles your head to the side, kissing you with parted lips and swiping his tongue along your lower one so you’ll gain him entrance.

“Noona,” he whispers between quick breaths, sounding almost needy. “Noona, I need—”

“Okay, stop.” You place your arms on his shoulders, expanding the space between you. You can’t believe you almost got carried away. “Now this is getting sexual. Let’s head over to my next wish.”

“Wait—but I’m—” He stares at you bewilderedly, not believing the fact that you just casually drag your body away from his lap, smoothen down your hair as if nothing just happened. “Are you serious? You’re playing with me again? When I’m like this?”

“Sorry.” You peck him on the cheek, hiding your grin. “So, for my next wish—”

“Yah! Listen to what I’m saying—”

“I want you to—”

“Noonaaaaaaaa~”

“—sing me a lullaby.” His whining stops abruptly at your words and you quickly explain further before he does it again, “I’m sleepy so I’m gonna take a nap. Your job is to sing me a lullaby until I fall asleep. Easy, right?”

“You really just do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Only for today. You, on the other hand, do that every day.”

“Fair enough. Do I get to choose the song?”

“Sure.” Knocking your high heels off your feet, you lie down on his bed with a thump, contentedly basking in his scent because his pillows, the duvet underneath you, the soft sheet below your fingertips—everything smells pleasantly like him. Haechan takes off his shoes and his leather jacket—which almost earns a loud protest from you because he looks so good with that jacket on—throwing them somewhere near the bed without care and he lies down by your side, facing you.

You turn your body to face him as well. “Hey, handsome.” You smile sheepishly at him.

He seems a bit caught off guard by it, but smiles back. “Hi.”

“Can we cuddle?”

He laughs softly at that. “Come here.” He gathers your entire figure easily in his arms and you sink your nose to his chest, humming in pleasure. “Stop being so cute, you’re torturing me.” You only giggle in response.

Haechan begins to sing, slowly at first as if he suddenly feels pressured with the way the room is so deep in silence, leaving no excuse for him to make in case he fails. You notice that, so you sneak both of your arms around his waist, snuggling even closer. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

“I’m not. Why would I be?” He masks his slightly shaky voice with a chuckle. “It’s just that your hair keeps getting into my mouth whenever I try to sing.”

“Of course.” And you keep your lips tightly shut, giving him the time he needs.

Haechan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Had a perfect picture in my head, with you in the most beautiful dress,” he sings, beautiful notes flowing down from his lips, making you feel like everything around you becomes a blur and there’s only him with his velvety voice and his soft, warm breathing. “I look happy as ever, how did I let you go again.”

He gains confidence with more seconds passing by and you can feel his arms growing slack around your waist, no longer as tense. “Now I'm standing alone in the rain, like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time, but I know this time it's real.”

You’re not sure whether it’s because of the lyrics or the way he sings, but as beautiful as his honeyed voice sounds, you can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness growing inside you. It’s as if he’s not singing the song, he’s living through it. And you wonder maybe he’s had his heart broken by someone before—or maybe he’s just so good at putting emotions to his song, you’re still not sure yet.

“Hate that I'm singing this song. Hate that I have to be strong.” Haechan absentmindedly runs his fingers up and down your spine, before he tangles them around the strands of your hair, gently stroking them. “Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else. Hate everything. Just hate everything right now.”

It’s so genuine and soft the way he serenades you, baring his soul and you’re not even looking at his eyes as he sings it. By the end of it, you can’t help but ask him a question. “Will you be singing that song if you ever break up with me?”

He curls up closer, burying the tip of his nose in your hair. “No,” he says but continues before your disappointment can sink in, “If we ever break up, I won’t be doing anything besides getting you back. I don’t like to lose, you know how I am. And I definitely don’t want to lose something—or rather, someone—this important to me.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you chime in, pulling away a little so you can take a look at his face. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers.”

But Haechan doesn’t smile or act cocky about it. He just takes his time analyzing your face, taking in your features as he trails his fingers down from your hair, to your cheek, and finally stopping at the curve of your lips. “I was so worried before though when you met your ex behind my back. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just…” He loses his words when you begin to kiss his fingertips, his eyes becoming unfocused. “I don’t know, I just got anxious about it. I’ve never had someone like you before so…”

It really just sinks in that he wasn’t merely angry because you were seeing your ex-boyfriend again, he was just afraid. He was terrified of losing you but didn’t know how to react properly. He keeps on telling that you belong to him, that he owns you and everything but he doesn’t intend to dominate you. It’s just a way for him to convince himself that you’re still with him, and not in someone else’s arms.

You can feel your lips curving up into a smile. He’s just a clueless boy, probably still as inexperienced as you are when it comes to love.

You’re sinking more into his arms, sighing as he rakes his fingers down your spine. When silence starts to hang in the air, tension growing thick, Haechan spares you a glance. “Noona?”

You’re not sure what it is inside you that drives you wild but when you’re awake from your reverie, your lips are on his again, melting against his heat, and desperately asking him to deepen the kiss.

The way he inadvertently moans against your lips indicates that your kiss catches him off guard but he soon finds back his pace. He crawls on top of you, pressing your body closer, chest meeting chest, and murmurs your name with his silvery voice against your ear, successfully sending goosebumps to every inch of your body.

“Forget my first wish.” You can barely recognize your own voice from how husky it has become. He has his lips tracing your jawline, about to map his way down but you keep him still, not wanting to erase the warmth of his lips on yours just yet. “It’s a stupid wish anyway. I don’t know why I even asked that.”

Haechan forms a space between you, just to take another look at your face. His eyes are hooded, gleaming with desire. “Well then,” he rubs his thumb along your lower lip, while his tongue traces his own. “Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes.” It sounds more like a plead than affirmation, strongly painted with urgency. “Come here.”

Haechan’s lips are warmer than how they usually felt but you can’t be certain. It’s been a while since you last shared an intimate moment with him and you just now realized that it really isn’t just him who desperately seeks attention. You crave his touch way more than he does for yours.

But maybe that’s not true after all, because Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed as he kisses you passionately, his lips keep searching for yours whenever you try to pull away to catch a breath. The way he sinks his fingers along your hips, how determined he is in keeping you close to the point you can start counting on his eyelashes—everything that he does screams his emotions vividly. How much he longs for you. How much he misses the taste of your breath on his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, your fingers pressed against his jaw. “Please…”

Haechan blinks, a bit startled and perhaps a tad confused as well, considering you stopped him from going too far earlier. But he doesn’t complain and takes every chance he can get, if it means he can be closer to you. It’s so soft, the way he kisses you now, as if he’s having his first kiss, not sure if he’s doing it right but you don’t mind. It’s rare, being kissed by him like this, and somehow it makes your skin tingle as if merely just a touch of his lips is sending electricity to your entire body.

“I love you,” you whisper as you share his breath. “I really do love you, Hyuck.”

The way he halts his action for a good two seconds, probably letting your words sink into his head, makes your own heart skip a beat or two. And you’re worried if you say too much, or if you’ve become too needy and it annoys him, but when you sneak a glance at him, you notice how his cheeks are tainted with red before he leans closer, roughly murmuring, “Just kiss me again,” against your lips.

But the way he’s holding your body makes you feel way more loved than the words he said earlier. And he’s taking his time, just gently moves his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in only slightly to steal a taste. But you sigh against his mouth either way because it’s not only his kiss that weakens you, it’s his entire presence—the way his warmth seeps through the fabric of your dress, the way he’s holding back a moan when you unconsciously tug his locks a little bit too hard, or the way he just naturally smells so sweet, almost honey-like, numbing your other senses at once.

“Noona,” he breathes heavily, tilting his head to the side so you’ll have better access to running your lips against the skin of his neck. “I want… I need…” he trails off, too busy looking at the way you’re slipping your fingers underneath his shirt, tracing his hot feverish skin with your cold digits. “I really need you now.”

“Then keep touching me,” you mumble against his jaw, searching for his lips again. “I want to feel you too. Come closer.” But even if your words speak a sense of urgency, your fingers still feel as light as a feather on his skin and he seems to notice that, because he’s keeping up the same pace, not suddenly rushing to tear your clothes apart like how he usually does.

He chants your name over and over again, almost like a prayer, his desire running thick in his veins. As he moves down, his fingers find their way to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, and he takes his time to kiss every inch of your body that’s revealed to him one by one.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do this to you,” he confesses, his nose skimming along the skin of your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You arch your back, desperately needing to close the space between you. “I’ve missed you too.”

And you’re half-expecting him to put on a smirk and asks, “Yeah? How much, exactly?” But this time, he doesn’t. His lips are busy marking your skin, sucking gently at the spot that makes you curl your toes. He brings his eyes back to yours again when your lips moan out his name.

“Don’t do that,” he says, looking like he’s gradually losing control of himself. “You know how that drives me crazy.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I love it, but—” He suddenly presses his lips hard against yours, as if there’s another person inside him that’s been screaming at him to latch his lips with yours before he wastes more second talking nonsense. And you try to reciprocate the movement of his lips with the same speed but he doesn’t give you much room to improvise. He knows what he’s doing, all you need to do is just relax and blend into the kiss. He already makes everything so easy for you. The problem is, he makes you feel like something is pressing against your chest and your stomach is doing crazy flips over and over again.

He finally stops again when you gasp his name.

“Ah, no, seriously.” It’s like he’s fighting a battle within himself, pulling away from you and shaking his head. “I want to take it slow today, Noona, but you moaning my name like that is not making it easy for me so please, just don’t—” He exhales, pressing his temple against yours with his eyes closed. “Don’t torture me like that.”

It’s cute how he tries to hold back, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I’m fine with the way you usually hold me, though.” It’s tempting, and he’s pretty much dazed with the sultry smirk you have on your face, but he shakes his head again, snapping him back from his own thoughts.

“No, it’s your birthday,” he says, eyes switching back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he tries to enunciate his reason. “I want to make it special.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “So you’re saying that all the sex we did before today wasn’t special to you?”

He gapes. “No, that’s not—”

“Just kidding.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Okay, then, do your thing.” You sit up straight so you can undress properly and his eyes are instantly glued to your chest when your bra slips down your shoulders. You don’t really intend to make it sexy, but the way his eyes grow wide when you say “I’m all yours,” and lies down on his bed again in nothing but your laced underwear seems to indicate that that’s exactly how you look in his mind.

He mutters an almost inaudible fuck under his breath before he snaps himself out of his reverie again. He stands with his knees pressed on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before he hovers back on top of you, peppering wet kisses from your ear to your neck before he ends it with his tongue trailing down the valley of your breasts.

He stops to reach for his drawer, searching for a condom while you struggle to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans. You’re finished a few seconds sooner and already have your back pressed against the sheet again when he crawls on top of you with a packet of condom between his teeth.

“No, wait.” You catch him by his arm as he’s about to tear the package with his teeth. “I’m on the pill today too so you can do it without.”

“Well, fuck,” he exhales, latching his lips back to yours again. “Why are you being so nice to me today?”

“You literally just complained about me being mean to you a few minutes ago.”

“Well, now that I get to come inside you again, I’m taking all my words back.” He gives playful kisses on your nose and cheeks before he licks around your face like how a cute little puppy would.

“Stop it, you’re gross!” But your airy laughter soon begins to vanish, only to be replaced with a sense of uncertainty. You begin to feel nervous when he hooks his fingers around the edge of your underwear and pulling it down your legs, baring yourself completely for his eyes. He’s seen you naked countless times and you never really felt this nervous before so it must be because—

“You seem to be thinking about something,” he interrupts, parting your legs so he can slide in between them. “Something wrong?”

“Umm—I—“ It’s not the way you stutter that betrays you; it’s the prominent blush that stains your cheeks. But you have to do this. You have to say this. Not just for your sake, but his too. “Haechannie..?”

“Yeah, Noona?”

“For my next wish…” You wet your lip anxiously, swallowing your breath, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “C-can you eat me out, please…?”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so startled by your action—or by anything, really—to the point that he has to remind himself to blink. “What?”

You groan, hastily grabbing a pillow nearby and use it to cover your face. “Don’t make me say it again, you idiot!” You expect him to laugh, or worse, mock you about it but instead, he snatches the pillow away, throwing it to the side, and wraps his fingers around your wrists, holding you in place.

“Noona, please,” he pleads, his cheeks turning scarlet, mirroring yours. “Please say it again. I want to see you when you say it.”

It’s actually borderline hilarious the way he’s so serious about it, and perhaps it’s really his biggest turn on—one that he hasn’t seen coming from you after all this time—so you decide to swallow your pride and indulge him further.

You repeat your words and watch as his eyes widened again for a split second before they turn gentle, looking so happy that you finally get to answer his wish. “About damn time,” he whispers against your lips, his husky voice reverberating nicely to your ears as he tastes every bit of your mouth with his tongue. He wastes no more time, heading south while placing more wet kisses down your body.

His lips are hovering above your heat, and you can really feel his breath down there. You have your eyes closed in anticipation but Haechan suddenly says, “You know what, let’s do it this way.”

He leaves you hanging and you’re about to be swallowed by shame but he suddenly lies down on the bed, his head almost touching the headboard, and motions you to come closer. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he says and you almost choke on your saliva. “Come here, Noona. Please.”

And it stresses you out so much because you’ve never done this before—never even thought about it even—and you figured you just had to lay there and let him do whatever he wants with you. Crawling over to sit on his face is clearly not what you had in mind.

“Come on,” he lightly sneers when he sees how nervous you are. “I won’t bite.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, feeling a little bit lightheaded from how embarrassed you are, but when he offers a hand, you take it and follow his lead.

You have your legs on each side of his head and he’s holding you by your hips, guiding you to lower yourself down to him. “Stop being so tense,” he chuckles and you flinch because he’s so dangerously close. “It’s not like I’ve never seen you up-close before.”

“It’s different—” You gasp when he swipes his tongue against your folds, just once, before he asks, “Different how?”

You’re too occupied with sorting out your feelings and all these sensations that coming into your head at once. “I don’t know, it’s weird—” You almost whine when you feel him moving his tongue again.

“Your thighs are shaking, Noona,” he chuckles, and you clench your teeth, trying to be less conscious of how his hot breath hitting your sensitive spot.

“Please, s-stop talking.”

“I’m trying to make this casual,” he says, his voice sounding less clear as it hits your skin. “If I stop talking, you’re gonna start thinking about things again.”

“I’m not—Haechannie—” You bring your fingers to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning too loud. He’s giving tentative licks around your clit, moving agonizingly slow and you fumble with your hands, not knowing where to place them. Everything feels both terrifyingly good and painfully awkward and you’re trapped between wanting to continue and stop at the same time.

“Here,” Haechan offers, taking one of your hands and guides it down until it finds home in his hair. “Or you can lay your hands against the headboard. But I prefer you do it this way so I’ll know if you’re feeling,” he stops to licks a stripe up your folds, making you shiver, “good, or,” this time, he stops to suck hard on your clit, startling you with the amount of pleasure jolting through your veins that your body begins to tremble. “Extremely good,” he finishes, moving to the side so he can place a kiss on your thigh, letting you feel his teasing smile on your skin.

Your breathing tatters as he continues with his ministrations, now adding one of his fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. Your head hangs low, and you’re not able to tear your eyes away from his face. Seeing him between your thighs, with his eyes closed as if he’s enjoying every second of it, is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“You seem to be much more relaxed now,” Haechan leans back to show you his godforsaken smirk, “Good girl. Are you starting to regret the fact we didn’t do this sooner?”

And you want to be upset about it—about how he’s still teasing you even during this moment—but the way his breath keeps fanning against your sensitive skin makes you weak. “Please just…” You’re about to sob because it’s too damn embarrassing to be put in this situation. “Stop teasing me, Hyuck…”

Haechan blinks at your expression, his gaze immediately softens. “I’m sorry,” he says, kissing you gently on the inner part of your thigh again. “You’re just so damn cute, I can’t help but tease. Forgive me?”

And you just answer with a small nod because that’s all you can offer before his lips are pressed against your entrance again, tongue slipping inside to know how you really taste. 

“Wait—” You begin to panic from how good and weird it feels. “L-let’s stop for a sec—It’s too much—” The shame, the sensation, the pleasure—they’re all hitting you hard at once and you’re too nervous to function properly.

Haechan sneaks a glance at your face, taking in the way it contorts into several emotions at once. “Baby,” he calls out softly, which sends shivers down to your core. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

You notice how he’s imitating your words from earlier and that gives you the chance to think about something else. “But… What about you..?” You ask, making eye contact with him and gulping when he raises his eyebrow in question. “I mean, I can’t please you like this.”

“Oh…” He leans his head down to the bed, giving you the space you want but not exactly what you need. “Then… Wanna do it at the same time?”

You nibble at your bottom lip, slowly nodding your head and his eyes gleam excitedly in response.

“Ah, you’re the best, seriously,” he exhales, dreamily looking at you. “All right then, turn around.”

***

It’s two hours before midnight when another idea pops up in your head. “Haechannie,” you call him out, as you click off your phone and turn to him. Hearing him humming in response, you continue. “Call Jaemin and the rest of your cute little boyband.”

By the tone of your voice, he knows he’s going to go through hell again. He groans out loud, head dangling around the edge of his bed. “Why is this day not over yet, I swear to God—”

“Just call them, I’ve got something in mind.”

“Don’t tell me you want me to make-out with them or something.”

“Why, are you interested?”

He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “I’d rather die.”

“Glad that’s not what I’m asking then.” You climb up to join him on the bed, sitting next to his body with your knee almost touching the side of his head. He shifts around, placing his head on your lap, and stares at you with tired eyes.

“Please don’t be too mean to me this time,” he begs and you snort, can’t believe that the mischievous Lee Donghyuck actually begs you to spare his life.

You card your fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch. It doesn’t last long though, his blissfulness, because on the next second, you say, “I want you to play that online game you always play with them but be terribly bad at it.”

“WHAT—“ He blurts out, sitting upright in such a rush that he almost knocks your heads together. “WHY—HOW COULD YOU—”

“Okay, breathe.”

“But this is too much!” He whines, his eyes widening in horror. “I have a status to uphold! You can’t do this to me!”

“Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll give you permission to explain the situation to them.” You squeeze his hand, smiling understandingly at him. “You can tell them that you’re doing this because you’re granting my birthday wish.”

That manages to calm him down a little. “So I can let them know before the game? Oh, thank God—”

“No, a month after the game.”

“WHY ARE YOU SO EVIL—”

“Just do it already!” You shout out with a teasing grin strapped to your face. “You owe me at least that much after I let you come in my mouth.”

He gapes, eyes widening in shock. “That was for this?! I feel so tricked!”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about that before but—” You shake your head, waving the rest of your sentence away. “Come on, Haechannie, please, please, please~” You rub your hands together, batting your eyelashes again.

He grumbles, pushing you away. “Stop doing that aegyo on me, I’m not doing it!”

I’ll grant you five wishes for your birthday!” You can’t believe you’re saying this and you know you’re going to regret it later in the future but there’s still time and you hope he’s gonna forget about it when the time arrives. Hopefully.

Haechanlooks extremely tempted at that. “Any kind of wishes?”

You wince but nod eventually. “As long as it’s nothing sexual.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.” His smirk is back and he’s doing it so cockily that it sends shivers down your spine. Well, you can work over that problem later. “Fine, let’s go. Give me the phone.”

Haechan calls Jaemin an asswipe the first second he gets connected but by the sound of his voice coming from the other line, he’s not even bothered in the slightest. “Get off Jeno’s dick for once and log back into your account. Bring Jisung with you. I’ll be online in ten minutes and if I don’t see you there, I’ll text your mom the real reason why you didn’t show up on Christmas Day.” And he shuts off his phone with a click, throwing it randomly on his bed.

“Do boys normally make phone calls like that?” you ask, judging him.

He only shrugs, “Cooler ones do.”

“What happened during Christmas Day?”

“Jaemin got his ass drunk, went out with Jeno, and ended up having a threesome with a stripper.” He yawns, throwing himself back on the bed again. “I’m just glad they didn’t take Jisung with them. He’s been through a lot, that poor kid.” And when he sees you raising an eyebrow in question, he just waves you off. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

There’s a lot of shouting in the background when the game started, most of it coming from the other line of Haechan’s headphones that’s strapped to his ears. You lean close to him so you can hear Jeno shouting at him, “Yah! What the fuck, Lee Donghyuck?! I thought you said you were going left!”

“I am going left.”

“THAT’S NOT LEFT, YOU IDIOT!”

And you feel sorry for your boyfriend for degrading himself on purpose like this. “As you can see,” he says, wincing as his ears begin to ring from all the shouting. He mutes his headphone as he focuses back on you with his fingers angrily tapping on his keyboards. “This causes me physical pain. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am happy.” You peck him on his cheek. “You’re the best. I love you.”

Haechan snorts, looking away and tapping his headphone again to unmute his microphone. “Hey assholes, I just died again. Sorry about that.” More screaming and angry rantings can be heard from the other line and you savor the moment as long as you can. It’s not every day you can see your cocky boyfriend being bullied by his underlings.

It’s too fun watching him play with his face contorting like he’s in deep agony that you begin to lose track of time. You just realize how late it is when Haechan suddenly quits the game, puts his PC back to the sleeping mode, and turns his chair around to face you. You suddenly feel nervous as you sit on the edge of his bed, with him staring at you with a sinful smile creeping up his face, crossing his legs.

“Ten, nine, eight,” he says, tapping his fingers and you flinch in realization. “You better start running, Noona.” He walks over, chucking off his shirt on his way to you whilst continuing his countdown. His silver necklace glints under the fluorescent light of his room and he bends down, trapping you between his arms. “Because I’ll be in charge in three… two…”

You gulp, your heart thrumming loudly against your ribcages as you feel his lips hovering dangerously above yours.

“One.”

***

[kaunis-sielu]

October Challenge 22

Cabin in the Woods

You change your fitting time to eight am, Steve drives you over but you make him wait in the car. You won’t be having him sneak a look at your dress no matter how much he flirts and flatters to get to. The dress fits perfectly, the length is exactly right and you cannot wait to see Steve’s face when you walk down the aisle.

You head back downstairs and when you don’t see Steve’s truck you’re confused so you call him.

“Yea Honey?”

“Where are you?”

“Went to pick up some breakfast. You done?”

“Yes.”

“Wait inside the building for me okay Honey?”

“Okay.” You agree, you almost text Pepper to come down but instead you stay on the phone with Steve. “Where did you go for breakfast?”

“The Bagel Place. I got you a strawberry banana smoothie and a breakfast sandwich.”

“You are the love of my life.” You tell him as your stomach grumbles and he laughs.

“Yea?”

“Oh absolutely.”

“Alright I’m just pulling up. Come on out.” You come out of the building just as Steve pulls up and you climb into the truck with him. He looks slightly disappointed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You level him with a look that says you’re not buying it, “I was hoping you’d have the dress with you. So I could at least get an idea.”

“Pepper and Tony will be bringing it.”

“Damn.”

“Why do you want to see so bad?” You ask pulling your sandwich from the bag.

“I’m just excited. I know you’re going to look stunning, everyone who has seen it has told me you’re gonna knock me on my ass.”

“Whose all seen it?”

“Just the girls.”

“God Steve this sandwich is exactly what I wanted, I didn’t know it but it was.”

“I’m glad. Cooper got a whipped cream too.” He says picking up his coffee.

It takes a couple of hours but when you pull up to the location you gasp its a huge lodge with cabins up behind it. The trees are all several colors and there’s a small stream running by.

“Oh! Oh Steve this is perfect!” You tell him as you practically vibrate in your seat.

“I’m glad you like it. We’ve rented out the whole place.”

“Oh my god.” You press several kisses to his cheek before Steve pulls the truck to a stop and kisses you soundly. “The best Alpha.” You mutter before kissing him again.

“Wanna go try out our cabin?” Steve offers wiggling an eyebrow at you.

“Let’s go.” You tell him climbing out of the truck and letting Cooper out. Steve grabs both of the bags before rounding the truck to take your hand. You’ve just entered the cabin, Steve’s dropped the bags and cupped your face in his hands as he kisses you when someone knocks on the door.

“Damn it.” Steve groans but you laugh, of course.

“We should probably see who that is.”

“I know you’re right but what terrible timing.” He mutters and you laugh before untangling yourself from his grasp.

“Come on, the sooner we see who it is the sooner we can get back to our plans.” You tell him and he groans following you to the door. You open it expecting to see someone you don’t know, an employee or something but your eyes widen as you take in who’s standing outside the door. “May? Phil! Scott! Hope! Oh my God.” You hug each of your friends from the mountain tightly.

“You smell weird.” Scott says and you laugh,

“You’ve never smelt me as an Omega.”

“And you smell like him.” Hope says nodding at Steve.

“What are you all doing here?”

“Like we’d miss your wedding.” May says with a smile.

“You. Oh Alpha!” You practically cry turning to Steve and throwing your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his neck, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Like I’d let some of the most important people in your life miss our wedding.” He says softly, holding you tightly to him, your feet off the floor.

“I love you. I love you.” You whisper your voice tight, Steve hums lowly. They start talking while you get control of your emotions again.

When you hear more people show up you finally let go. Wanda is leading the pack, concern on her face.

“It’s fine Wanda.” Steve tells her, “these are people from Fawn’s last pack.” He introduces everyone, then another Beta comes over with a clipboard.

“Mr. Rogers.”

“Captain actually.” Bucky corrects with a small smile.

“My apologies, I’m Jemma your hostess for the weekend. I have room assignments for everyone, please let me know if I need to change anything you have a rather large pack.”

“Thank you.” You tell her holding a hand out for the list. The only change you need to make is moving Bucky and Becca from a single bed room and Hope and Scott from a double bed room. “Let me know if any of these assignments don’t work.”

You don’t get another moment alone with Steve. Not even for bedtime when Becca drags you to her and Bucky’s room. Bucky sleeps on one of the couches in your and Steve’s cabin. You wait until you know Becca is asleep before you sneak out of the room. You’re not surprised to find Steve sitting on the bench outside Becca and Bucky’s room.

“Hi Honey.” He says softly and you climb into his lap.

“Thank you for all of this.”

“I’m just glad you like the space and that I could surprise you.”

“How are even real?” You ask causing Steve to chuckle softly. You sit together well into the night, far later than you should but eventually Steve pats your butt and says,

“We should get to bed.”

“I know.” You agree but you don’t move, Steve stands and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you back into the room you’re sharing with Becca.

“Are you going to stay here or do I have to ask you to stay?” He whispers as he sets you gently on the bed and you sigh heavily as you let go of him.

“I’ll stay.” You promise him, Steve kisses you deeply then whispers,

“Next time I kiss you you’ll be my wife.” He then disappears out of the room leaving you smiling.

“Okay that was cute as fuck.” Becca mutters into the darkness.

[reidology]

Dying in a bathtub - Hotchreid

Summary: Hotch gets nightmares and hides in the tub, so Spencer makes it comfy for him <3

Word count: 4.4k

Content warning: discussion and description of nightmares, smut, brief description of physical abuse, light angst, quite fluffy, happy ending <3

AO3

__________________________________________

The first time it happened Spencer woke up shivering, the cold of a missing body beside him seeped through the sheets chilled his bones. He braved a lazy glance to his bedside, squinting to see the alarm clock blinking big and aggressive red numbers. 05:25. Aaron must have gone out for a morning run, something Spencer never understood. In fact, his reasoning of ‘why run, when sleep?’ whenever Aaron attempted to get him to join always earned him an affectionate eye roll and kiss on the cheek, so why would he ever give that up? No promise of endless coffee can get Spencer Reid to wake up before 7am, much less for exercise.

Reluctantly the sleepy man made his way to the bathroom, knowing he might as well shower and get ready for work now, there’s no way he could get back to sleep without his human furnace of a boyfriend covering him completely. Only, through his grogginess he failed to notice the boyfriend-shaped body softly snoring in the tub.

So he padded over to the semi-closed shower curtain and blearily reached in to turn the water on for it to heat up while he got ready.

Almost as soon as the water turned on, a high-pitched shriek assaulted the young agent’s eardrums. Spencer did what, in his opinion, any caught-off-guard fully trained FBI agent would do— he squealed in shock and fell back on his ass. A moment later the shower curtain pulled back, revealing a very irritated -and very wet- Aaron Hotchner.

“Babe what the fuck,” the older man whined, wringing out his shirt and turning the freezing water off, “I was sleeping!”

“Oh this is my fault?!”

“Yes! Couldn’t you see me?!”

“I just woke up!”

“Me too!” Aaron pointed to his wet shirt as if to say you have no excuse for this.

Spencer let out a frustrated sigh and pushed himself up from the floor. Somehow he upset his boyfriend, he guesses apologies are on the table. He carefully stepped into the bathtub to face his dripping boyfriend and wrapped his arms around the soaking man’s neck, “I’m sorry,” he pouted quite prettily, “But honey, why were you sleeping in the tub?”

“I didn’t sleep in the tub. I went to sleep in our bed, then you woke me up in the tub.” Aaron grumbled.

Spencer thought Aaron looked positively insane. His eyes focused on the older man’s pupils as his hands checked for a fever.

“Do you have a concussion?” He couldn’t help but fret about the man who is usually so well put together. He was obviously in distress though what kind of distress completely eluded the dry man. Aaron waved Spencer’s worried hands away from his face, “No. Spence, I’m telling you, I didn’t sleep in the bathtub.”

“Then how did you get here?”

Aaron shrugged and swatted Spencer’s nosy hands away that were trying to inspect the grumpy man for any injuries, “Who knows? Let’s get some breakfast.” He calmly stepped out of the tub and headed out, leaving Spencer confused (for once).

“... But it’s 5 am.”

_____

Two nights later, it happened again. But this time Spencer awoke to the sound of sobbing. His heart just about broke in two at the sight of Aaron curled in on himself in the porcelain tub, shaking and covered in sweat.

The Unit Chief used to have terrors most nights. After Foyet, all of life’s problems seemed to unravel in his dreams. The sounds and images were so vivid that upon waking up he believed he had done what he’d dreamed. That he’d hurt his family or that Foyet had come back to finish the job.

During hard cases, Aaron would forgo sleep completely, knowing his mind would only haunt him with terror beyond his conscious capabilities. It left him exhausted and agitated for the rest of the investigation. The team and LEOs got frustrated but none had the guts to confront him, except for one young agent who took special notice of his boss.

So Spencer stepped in, and after weeks of getting closer and learning more about each other than they had in the past five years of working together, Aaron digressed and accepted the help that was offered. The following three months ensued so smoothly, the therapy was helping and Aaron couldn’t believe he was sleeping full nights again. He knew it was all thanks to Spencer, who had taken up a very special place in his heart. Aaron knew that Spencer would always be there when he woke up, like an anchor. Something real to hold on to and keep him in place.

It had been a while since Aaron had such a bad episode, luckily Spencer knew just what to do and jumped right into action. Without missing a beat, the younger man climbed into the tub and sat by Aaron’s head, taking hold of one of his white-knuckled fists and gently coaxing it open by rubbing his thumbs from the palm to the back of the hand. Constant pressure, soothing, real. With one hand he threaded his fingers through the brunette’s damp hair, stroking softly at his scalp, willing his nightmare mind to latch onto the familiar touch.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” He murmured sweetly like a mantra.

Eventually Aaron’s panicked sobs dissolved into pained whimpers, his body lost some of its tension, allowing for Spencer to gently lift his boyfriend’s head into his lap and off the hard floor of the tub. The whimpers died down to light trembles and Spencer shushed him comfortingly, continuing to sooth him with gentle strokes to his head. Slowly Aaron’s eyes opened and Spencer felt the moment panic set in. The taller man’s breathing quickened and tension returned to his body, frozen in fear. God, Spencer should have turned the lights on.

“It’s just me, darling. You’re home, Aaron. This is home. You’re safe.”

Aaron trembled more, his eyes glazed over as if reliving the nightmare, “Shhh you’re safe.”

Spencer placed a feathery kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead that seemed to anchor him immediately. Tentatively, Aaron looked up at his rescuer, relieved to be in his lover's arms and away from the nightmare universe that had felt so real. He burrowed further into Spencer’s lap, wrapped his shaking arms around his boyfriend’s steady hips. He tried to focus on Spencer’s heartbeat in an attempt to regulate his own. Spencer was warm, Spencer was safe. Always safe.

“Foyet?” Spencer asked cautiously, breath fanning over the older’s forehead. Aaron stilled at the name then nodded. The younger man knows that Aaron needs to talk about it immediately, even if it’s terrifying. It allows him to discern dreams from reality, so that the events and sensations of the night terror don’t ingrain themselves into the man’s memories of reality .

“... and Scratch,” Aaron gulped, “They had Jack. I couldn’t... I didn’t know what was real. Couldn’t tell if it was really Jack. He made me hurt him. Oh god, Spence… I hurt him.” Sobs wracked the pained man’s body once again, unable to forget the horror of the dream. Spencer rocked them back and forth.

“Shh… Jack is fine, he’s at Jess’s. You would never hurt him, Aaron.”

Aaron was spent, he couldn’t muster up the energy to talk. He fell asleep once more in his partner’s comforting hold.

_____

The next morning they woke up with aching muscles from being in the bathtub for so long. Spencer couldn’t help but be worried about his boyfriend. There was definitely something going on, and though he respected Aaron’s privacy immensely, he was afraid of the older man getting into a dangerous situation. Was he sleepwalking to the bathroom? What if he tripped and hit his head on the edge of the tub? But most importantly, why were Aaron’s nightmares leading him to the bathtub?

Spencer nuzzled Aaron’s neck in an effort to wake him up a bit more. “Darling, we need to talk about this.” The worry in Spencer’s voice was audible and prompted Aaron to sit up and sigh deeply. He didn’t think this part of his life would ever come back up to the surface, he’d avoided thinking about it for decades and he didn’t know what triggered the habit to resurface. But now it’s affected Spencer, and he knew he couldn’t keep the love of his life in the dark, but some things were so hard to talk about.

Aaron found himself panicking again, flashes of Foyet and his father clouding his mind once more. Images of Sean taking cover in Aaron’s arms while their father pounds on the bathroom door-

“I know. I-” He was cut off with the sweetest kiss.

“You can take your time sweetheart. No rush.”

Even at this stage in their relationship, Aaron wasn’t used to being treated so well. The kindness that naturally radiated off his boyfriend was enough to make his insides melt, the understanding words never ceased to choke him up. But he knew Spencer would be there to put him back together once he gave him all his pieces. He buried his face in the younger’s neck, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, relaxing into his hold. Spencer wrapped his arms around Aaron’s lean form, offering a safe space. Aaron had never been this vulnerable with anyone before his relationship with Spencer.

After a moment of just holding each other, Aaron’s breathing mellowed out and his voice cracked as he explained everything.

“After Sean was born, my dad started drinking. He’d always been somewhat aggressive, scary even. He- he’d get angry and take it out on my mom… and if she wasn’t there... But when he started drinking it got a thousand times worse. I vowed to myself to protect Sean at all costs, I promised him I would never let our dad get to him. So I took the brunt of it when he was sober. But when he was drunk… he would chase us, try to get to Sean specifically. He was just a little kid 5 or 6, I was 15. He would scour the house to find Sean so I took him and locked us in the only room in the house with a lock… the bathroom. I’d carry Sean in my arms and make a run for it. I blocked off the door with a cabinet and we sat in the tub until he passed out.. My dad couldn’t get in but he would pound on the door so loudly, his voice was so angry-”

Aaron inhaled hard, the grip on the back of Spencer’s shirt tightened and his breathing shallowed. Spencer continued rubbing soothing circles on his back, allowing Aaron to take his time.

“The bathtub was the only safe space for Sean and I. We spent whole nights in there, waiting for my dad to pass out. Sometimes we’d tell stories, play games, but other times we cried and I covered his ears with my hands, not wanting him to hear the horrible things our dad was saying. This went on until I went to college, I tried to take Sean with me but my mother wouldn’t allow it. My dad died a year later, when Sean was 9.

“I- because of that, if any of us had nightmares we’d go into the bathroom and sleep in the tub, because no one could get to us in there.”

Aaron swallowed thickly and timidly looked up to the honey-haired man. Had he sounded pathetic?

But Spencer cupped his cheek once again and kissed him lovingly.

“Thank you for telling me. You’re the strongest person I know, Aaron. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Aaron’s heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through his chest. He swallowed down all his uncertainties and let Spencer in, he was proud of himself. Both of them yawned in succession, still exhausted from last night and uncomfortable from sleeping in the bathtub.

With a cheeky grin the younger man announced, “Let’s go to bed, I’ll get us the day off.” Aaron was so grateful.

While he called in sick, Spencer had an idea, and he knew just who to call.

_____

“Boy Wonder! How wonderful to hear from you on this frabjous day! We miss you and the Bossman dearly. We are definitely… working. Work is happening, and we’re doing it, and it’s getting done. You can trust me on that. Definitely no piñatas in the break room, where would we even find one on such short notice? Emily doesn’t even know where to get balloons! Anyway, what magical service may I bestow upon thee today, my little lord?”

Spencer bit back a chuckle, “Hi Penelope. Listen I need some advice on… interior decorating-”

Immediately, he got cut off by a squeal, “I’m on my way!”

“No! Garcia- after work-”

The line goes flat.

“Dammit. I should’ve just texted JJ.”

_____

Despite her best efforts, the rest of the team did not let Penelope leave the BAU for a ‘design emergency’. Fortunately for Spencer, that gave him some time to plan what he wanted to do while cooking lunch for his sleeping beauty.

After a full meal of soup and grilled cheese, Hotch retreated to the living room hoping to watch some History Channel with Spencer. They love watching the conspiracy shows together and debunking the awful propositions. Though Hotch learned quite surprisingly that Spencer is very open to the idea of aliens on Earth. However, he has a suspicion that that’s mostly wishful thinking on the part of Spencer's inner child. Nevertheless, it’s adorable and Hotch was excited for it, and waiting patiently for Spencer to finish cleaning himself up.

Before he could question what was taking so long, their doorbell rang a sweet lullabye sound (they had to change it from the awful buzzing that it was- it was too overwhelming for Spencer). Not expecting any company, Hotch was puzzled as to who could be at their door.

“Who is it?” He spoke through the intercom.

“Bossman! Sorry to hear about your incurable case of Work Sickness! If you could let me up, I brought you some warm soup!-”

Spencer bounded through the foyer from the bedroom, practically hopping over furniture and knocking down a flower arrangement, “I got it! I got it!” he heaved frantically.

“Babe, what’s Garcia doing in front of our building on a weekday?”

“Nothing Aar don’t worry about it, Penelope and I are just going out for lunch, see you later!”

Spencer grabbed his satchel and was out the door.

“But- Spencer you just had lunch!” The curly haired man was already running down the steps, “Bye!”

It was Hotch’s turn to be left alone and confused.

_____

In Penelope’s car, Spencer explained his idea to Penelope, without going saying too much about Hotch’s nightmares. In true Penelope fashion, the bubbly bits-and-bobs connoisseur knew the perfect place to get what Spencer needed. Penelope dragged Spencer around the independently-owned home goods boutique like a lost puppy for about two hours. She ended up with more bags for herself and Sergio than what Spencer needed.

A few texts and one missed call from Hotch wondering what the hell was taking Spencer so long prompted them to leave. Spencer thanked Penelope in front of their apartment and air kissed her goodbye, promising to show up at girl’s night next week..

Spencer walks into the foyer as quietly as possible and hides the bags behind the living room’s entertainment center.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah! I’m home!”

Aaron walked out of their bedroom with a soft smile. His round glasses were on, meaning he’s been reading… or looking at case files.

“Are you going through the case?” Spencer scolded.

The bespectacled man didn’t waver. “There’s something the victim’s parents said that doesn’t add up, they said that every Thursday Mandy went to soccer practice after school and swim practice in the next town over in the evenings. She takes the bus so if the unsub was stalking her he’d either have to take the same bus and risk getting caught or have a car- which goes against our age profile- so that would mean there’s someone driving him. Spencer, there are TWO unsu-” He was cut off by being pulled into a kiss. He hummed into it and wrapped his arms around Spencer’s slender waist, pulling them closer together. When they pulled apart Spencer whispered “Two unsubs. The team knows, they’re working on it. You-” he tapped his finger on the older’s chin for emphasis, “need to relax today.”

The resulting pretty pout was swiftly kissed away. None of that now.

“But I don’t know how to relax. I’m Aaron Hotchner, stoic as a statue, stern glare extraordinaire, Mr. Emotionless…”

Spencer rolled his eyes and trailed his hands down Aaron’s hard chest, “I know how to make you relax…” The other man grinned “Oh is that right?” Spencer smirked and led his boyfriend to the couch.

_____

That night when Aaron was gone to bed, Spencer quietly retrieved the bags from behind the TV and set his plan in motion.

_____

He’s trembling. And he can’t recognize his own thoughts, he can’t think straight, all he can see is his son- and Haley with terror written all over their faces.

He barely registers the sound of Jack’s wailing because, as if from right behind his ear, he hears a voice that he interprets as his own thought ‘shoot him’.

‘What?’

‘Pull the trigger’

He looks back up to his sobbing, terrified son, and without hesitation- click- BOOM-

Aaron bolted up from the bed, gasping for breath. His eyes darted around the dark. Jack? Where is he- Jack ohmygod-

His vision landed on Spencer’s sleeping form, breathing shallowly and folded into himself like a pretzel, sleeping soundly like an angel. Spencer. Real. Safe. He took a deep breath to regulate his heart. In for 4, hold, out for 6, repeat. This was exhausting.

Groggily, Aaron slipped out from under the covers and headed to the bathroom to get a drink of water and maybe splash his face a little. He thought of getting into the bathtub for the comfort he desperately needed right now, but he’d be embarrassed if Spencer found him in there again. Who does that? But nothing could have prepared Aaron for the sight before him when he opened the door.

Lights. Yellow, green, purple electric lights on strings, illuminating the room in a beautiful calming glow. They were suspended from the curtain rod of the bathtub, taped to the walls. Gorgeously scented candles perched on the sink, some on the ground, a few tea lights lining the edge of the tub. It smelled glorious and comforting and Aaron couldn’t tell what it was. Pine? Sandalwood? Campfire?

The most breath-taking part was the inside of the bathtub. Patterned sheets hung from the walls and draped over to form a delicate roof. Fluffy pillows perfectly laid out to coat every inch of the porcelain interior, and soft blankets piled on top for added comfort. Lights lined the inside of the sheet tent as well, it looked fantastical. Like something out of a book.

Aaron was floored, to say the least. Was this what Spencer had been doing today? He was flooded by a new emotion, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Spencer had done all of this for him? To make him feel safe?

He was still standing just barely in the room, taking everything in and getting emotional when he heard soft footsteps behind him and felt Spencer’s long arms slink around his waist. A chin hooked over his shoulder and a kiss was pressed to his neck.

“Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?”

Aaron nodded, “You did all this… for me?” A tinge of awe decorated his voice.

“Yeah,” his boyfriend whispered back, “So you don’t hurt yourself when you sleep in here.”

Aaron felt stupid for ever thinking his wonderful, thoughtful boyfriend would ever feel embarrassed by him. Of course Spencer took everything he admitted seriously, of course Spencer cared about what he’s been through, Spencer cares… that's what he’s been feeling. Taken care of. Important. For once in his life, he feels like he’s allowed to let himself be loved.

The stunned man seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing how to respond. His mind was overwhelmed with love for his boyfriend. Spencer pulled away and grabbed the older’s hands, Aaron let himself be led to the makeshift fort.

They climbed in together, careful not to knock over any of the burning candles. Spencer settled on one end of the tub and pulled Aaron into him before he could even think of not cuddling with him. He made space with his legs for his boyfriend to settle between, chest pressed to back, arms wrapped around his love. Safe, warm, and comfortable in a sea of cushions like twin yolks in a shell.

Laying here, in his lover's arms, surrounded by low tranquil lights, and the gentle rise and fall of Spencer’s chest, Aaron felt as serene as he’d ever been. Spencer slid warm hands under Aaron’s shirt, bringing one up to rest cozily on his heart. Aaron turned his head and nuzzled further into Spencer’s neck, feeling the familiar tingle of the man’s touch and murmured a low hum of approval.

Spencer’s other hand, that wasn’t on Aaron’s heart, was used to tip the taller man’s chin up to look at him.

“I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind,” he cooed, “sometimes it’s impossible to take yourself out of that world. But in our home, Aaron, I want you to feel safe and protected at all times. I want you to be vulnerable and unashamed. You’re free to be everything you are in here, and I hope that you feel you can be everything you are with me, too.”

Aaron lost himself in his partner’s deep gaze, glorious hazel eyes boring into him. Completely enamored by the words spoken to him, all he could do was nod and lick his lips, trying to regulate his heart rate for a completely different reason now. Spencer had never been so… authoritative before and his sincere but stern tone sent thrilling sparks down his spine. A blush rose up his neck.

Spencer tracked the slow movement of Aaron’s tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and didn’t fight the impulse to drag his thumb over it. “You’re always safe with me.” He barely whispered before angling his head down to catch those lips in a languid kiss. Aaron sighed into it, waiting a little while before pushing himself up to fix their awkward angle. He positioned them so that Spencer was laid down flat on his back, allowing Aaron to lay between his legs once more, chest to chest. They tangled themselves in each other, lips colliding again like a match to a box, igniting a fire in the both of them.

Both were still tired from waking up in the middle of the night, but the desire coursing through their bodies was a more pressing matter. Spencer lifted his hands to frame his lover’s neck and wrapped his legs loosely around his waist, inviting Aaron to grind down onto him, both already half hard from the anticipation. Spencer groaned into Aaron’s mouth. A sound that went right to Aaron’s dick.

They explored each other’s bodies with a youthful novelty, eager to feel more skin. Never once pulling their lips apart. Aaron slipped his hands under Spencer’s shirt and shoved it up under his arms, digging his fingers into those delicious hips. Finally he broke away from the kiss to pepper the younger’s face with sweet ones. Aaron’s heart grew three sizes at Spencer’s soft giggles and let out a low laugh of his own. How ridiculous were they, making out like teenagers in a bathtub fort? Neither much cared to answer that question though, because the impatient genius bucked his hips up to meet his boyfriend’s, who was still in his boxers, let’s get those off.

Spencer eagerly reached for Aaron’s underwear and palmed at his bulge just until he heard that impatient sound from him. He pulled the man’s cock out now fully hard and dripping with precum. A groan escaped the both of them at the sight and sensation. They wasted no time in getting Spencer out of his nerdy physics flannel pajama pants, and grinded their dicks together. Lighting sparked right through the both of them, Aaron balanced himself on one arm near Spencer’s head and took both of their lengths into his right hand.

The rub of their slick cocks together was spectacular as Aaron kept a slow and steady pace, making sure to draw out all the best sounds he knew Spencer could make by nipping at his neck, where he knew the younger man was ticklish. Spencer whined at the excruciating pace, turning into a desperate whimpering mess. Making Spencer wait was so fun.

Spencer’s hands find grip in Aaron’s short hair, keeping him close, feeling the pull of Aaron's big hand on his dick and grinding up to meet him. It’s intoxicating bliss, being taken over the edge by the man he loves.

Their worlds minimized to just the slide of their cocks and the lips on their skin. The whimpering man felt the familiar build up in his abdomen, moaning freely now as he chased his orgasm, guiding Aaron’s hand with his own to feel his touch everywhere.

“Yeah baby,” Aaron encouraged, his own orgasm coming on quickly, “Cum for me baby.”

Spencer sputtered his release over both of their hands and stomachs, momentarily suspended in the intense bliss of his orgasm. He laid there spent, feeling like putty in Aaron’s hands, and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. He took his lover’s cock in hand and pumped him quickly, thumbing the head of his dick on each upstroke. Aaron came with a groan and a shudder, his arms gave out. They laid there catching their breaths for a while, ignoring the drying stickiness between them and tracing slow patterns on each other’s skin. They were so lucky to have each other.

“How are we going to shower now?” Aaron looked up and pouted.

“There’s a perfectly good sink just 5 feet away.” They laughed, Aaron pulled a blanket over them.

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

Taglist: @foxtrot91 @physics-magic @ssa-sarahsunshine @hearteyedhotch

[demonsandmischief]

Come Home To Me (Something Special Spin-Off)

Marvel - A Sam Wilson Imagine

Sam Wilson x Female Reader

1K Words

Here's Something Special (Bucky's Story). You might want to read it for this to make sense.

PLEASE NOTE: this does contain spoilers for TFATWS. This starts off at the party that's at the end of ep 6. Also you might need to read Bucky's Story for this AU to make sense (link above). Bucky's girl doesn't have a name since it's technically 'you' lol I hope it's not confusing. enjoy!!

The Beginning.

----

Sam Wilson watched Bucky and his girl sway contentedly to the music, the slightest bit of envy tugging at his chest.

It had been a good party, celebrating him taking up the mantle of Captain America, and he and Bucky seemed to have developed a new level of understanding for each other. There was no one more deserving of a soulmate then him.

"Sam, I don't see why you don't just try," Sarah, his sister, whispered. She was talking about the dreams, having caught on to the longing in his eyes.

"Don't you think I have? We've talked about this before, let's not talk about it right now."

Sarah sighed with a nod, "Alright then, do you want to dance? I know your mopey ass can't keep up with me."

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, right."

They moved over towards Bucky who lifted his head with a soft smile.

"Hi guys," his girl also gave a gentle smile. "Do you want to dance, Sam?"

"Hey," Bucky frowned, looking down at her. "We were having a moment."

"I'd love to dance. It's a way better option than dancing with my sister. Move out of the way cyborg," Sam grinned.

Bucky huffed, but he couldn't be upset, not when he had a beautiful girl still looking at him like he held the world. And for her, he did.

"He loves you," Sam murmured, watching as her eyes followed Bucky as he laughed at something Sarah said.

Even in the low light he could see her blush, "You have someone special out there for you too, you know? Either way, you have me and Buck and Sarah, all of these wonderful people who love and support you."

It was quiet after that. Sam's head filling with daydreams, of hope and future.

"You want to piss him off?" Sam asked mischievously.

"I'm not sure," she giggled.

Sam took that as a yes, putting his hand on her waist and dipping her back. She laughed, grabbing his arms so she didn't fall.

"That's enough, Sam," Bucky growled, pulling her to his chest.

"I think he's got better moves than you," she teased.

----

After Sam helped clean up from the party, he returned home. The house was quiet. Sarah had returned earlier to put her boys to sleep, and he didn't even want to know what Bucky and his girl were up to.

His mind was running with what she had told him. He wasn't really alone, not at all. He had the best friends and family anybody could ask for. Plus, with being Captain America, he was going to be a busy man.

Yet, he couldn't bury the longing he felt. The pain of loneliness curling through his body like a snake. He wanted to share his life with somebody, have someone to come home to.

With his mind made up, he was going to try the dreams again. It had been a while since he last tried. Every time he did, no one ever showed up.

When he fell asleep, his dreams took him to the a room that he was too familiar with. It was pitch black, and the world shifted intensely under his feet. It was like he couldn't stand up straight.

"Hello?" he called.

The room was empty.

----

"You're too quiet. What's wrong?" Bucky asked, gathering plates for breakfast.

Sam hesitated, but he remembered when the man had confided in him. Maybe it would be okay to talk to someone.

"They never show up," he said, eyes concentrating on the pancakes he was flipping. "Every single night. There has to be something wrong with me."

Bucky moved closer. "You know how I felt about the whole thing. They could be scared. You should keep trying. Besides, being Captain America, giving up isn't an option." He patted his back, disappearing into the dining room.

Sam tried again that night.

"Hello?" he called.

"I'm sorry," a sweet voice called back. Sam's heart thudded viciously in his chest. It seemed to match the movement of the dark room, shrouding him in the intense sound.

"It's okay. Why can't I see you? Are you alright?" he managed to yell back.

"No. They're watching me. This is the only chance I had. I'm sorry."

Sam woke up in a cold sweat. You were supposed to forget your dreams, but there was no way he would ever forget that.

They're watching me. What the hell? Pure nightmare fuel.

"Could you see, in your dreams, I mean?" Sam asked Bucky the next day as they sat on his boat.

Bucky blew out air, "From what I remember, yeah. I could only see her I think. Why?"

Sam told him about his dream, taking a drink to swallow down the fear and confusion.

"I don't have any answers for you. I wish I did," Bucky consoled. "Some progress is better than no progress, though. Right?"

---

On the third night, Sam really considered not showing up, but what if he missed his chance? The entire thing was just so draining.

"Can you come get me?" the same female voice called, this time fearful and exhausted. "I'm running out of time, but I think I am in a warehouse of some sort. It's filled with people. There's locked rooms in the basement."

----

Sam listened intently. He needed to remember. He needed to get to you.

Here's Part 2

What did you think?? Let me know if you want off or on the tag list.

Tag List: @superwholockruleztheworld @imiiimargo @hiuahoe @idunnomayn @cable-kenobi @nialeesato @bklynxbaby @wolflover384 @mytbel0st @burnalley @heyarely16 @lilithknight1111 @loveyou5everr

[curlynerd]

You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”

[archaneanscribe]

Finally Taking the Trip to Jupiter

Vague spoilers for MGS4. Also xtremely fucking sad fair warning lol

“Snake... Dave?” Hal immediately corrected himself upon entering the room. The veteran’s (finally they could use that term, with there truly being no fights left to fight) request to drop the codenames they had maintained for nearly a decade had been a little sudden, but entirely understandable, “We think we’ve found a place to stay, for the moment. A nice house, close enough to a town that Sunny can go to school in, but far enough ouy most folks will leave us alone.”

David simply nodded- taking a deep breath that would normally be an intake of smoke into his lungs, but he was sincere in his declaration of quitting. Even if it wasn’t for very long, he could do that much for Sunny and Hal, after all this time. The tech wiz stood awkwardly in the doorframe, posture so closed in on himself David would see the gangly nerd he once was before he had started spending more time eating and moving around than seated in front of a computer.

He still did plenty of that, but years on the run had shifted the ratio considerably until just recently.

“Out with it, Hal,” he croaked out in a voice that was becoming increasingly unfamiliar to both of them. This seemed to shock his companion out of his own thoughts, and he finally moved closer.

“Ah, well, you see- what do you want for your last name, Dave? You know I’ll be formalizing Sunny’s adoption, which means we’ll finally be obtaining,” emphasis was put on the word, because in reality it meant forging, “papers for her, and I thought you’d probably be in need of some too. We can use whatever is on your birth certificate, but if you want to pick something out yourself...”

A smile formed under Dave’s mustache.

“I already know what I’m using.”

Hal perked up, “You do? What is it?”

With the same simple, to the point gruffness he would never quite be rid of, the one legendary soldier answered in a single word.

“Emmerich.”

All sounds except the Nomad’s machinery working overtime on her last voyage and David’s unfortunately heavy breathing ceased for an eternally long moment, Hal’s face journeying between every emotion he possessed. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes, and his attempt to stifle his sniffles failed.

He probably wouldn’t have admitted it at the beginning, but something David had always loved about Hal was his ability to keep crying. No matter the hardships he faced, the traumas, the evils and cruelties he bore witness too, he didn’t run out of tears. His compassion was a well that ran deep, and those tears were just a result of it overflowing.

“Dave...of, of course,” his expression betrayed some amusement past the waterworks, “Do you want me to list you as my brother, or-”

“You know exactly what it’s going to say, Hal.”

They both laughed now, such different sounds than it was just a year ago even. David had been sitting on the edge of the bed, and Hal had been across the room, but that distance closed as Hal kneeled on the floor, placing his hands on David’s knees. It was a gesture that David had previously classified as pitying, but he knew better, now. 

It wasn’t for his comfort at all.

“Thank you, David.”

David had half a mind to ask what it was like to kiss an old man with a mustache, but they didn’t have the time for jokes like that anymore, so he just closed his eyes and enjoyed it.

---

The eyeroll David had given when Hal told him the name of the town they’d be living in was named Jupiter was so legendary it surpassed his previous exploits with ease. But, despite how silly it was, he couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest. 

They’d gotten their trip to Jupiter, just a little late.

Jupiter, Washington, was as small as a small mountain town got. It didn’t even have an elementary school for Sunny to attend (she was bussed to the neighboring, larger town). Most residents were the descendants of the people who had first lived there, so their new faces stuck out for awhile, but they eventually concluded what was essentially the truth, albeit missing some key details, and moved on- they were just two retirees, hoping to live out what was left of the older one’s life in peace with their orphaned granddaughter, nothing exciting.

Hal laughed at how huffy David had gotten at the granddaughter comments.

For the first month, their time there was peaceful. Content. Happy.

The second month, David starting being able to spend less and less time out of bed.

In the third month, he took Hal aside.

“You should stop sleeping in the same bed as me.”

His husband was a genius, he knew exactly why, but he still asked anyway.

“Don’t make me say it.” 

That he didn’t want Hal to wake up one sunny spring morning cuddling a corpse.

Tears were shed, as they always were, but he complied nonetheless. All of David’s belongings were transferred to the guest bedroom (Hal had tried to convince him to stay in the master bedroom, it was more comfortable, but David was adamant- that was where Hal would be staying in the future, and he didn’t want his ghost lingering in the air whenever he slept).

On the first day of the fourth month, right after sending Sunny off to school, Hal told him they were getting a dog for her.

“She loves those chickens, and I thought she might like another pet.”

“Or is it to replace me?” he asked, morbid mirth nearly buried under the pure gravel that had become his voice, “Seems to fit perfectly.”

Hal’s eyes, sad and weary, seemed to want nothing to do with this conversation, but he participated for his partner’s sake, “How so?”

“It’ll bark at strangers, bite the hand that feeds, and just generally be a pain in your ass.”

Despite himself Hal did laugh, not entirely bitter, “We’ll train it better than that.”

“Don’t train it too well. Won’t remind you enough of me.”

Fifth month, they had a dog. Rex, a joke on two layers- a name so common it was funny, and a reminder of one man’s shame that he’d never quite shake off. Not a husky, because while that would please David, they’d be keeping it long term and that level of energy just wouldn’t suit their needs. Rex was an adolescent Golden Retriever. 

The dog of the American dream.

Almost like he could tell David wouldn’t be around long enough to justify getting attached, Rex mostly ignored him. The feeling was mutual. 

Sunny loved them both dearly, and that was enough.

---

They had been there half a year, and Sunny made them breakfast. Her specialty, eggs fried to methodical perfection, toast just a little browner than anyone would like, maple sausage microwaved for ten seconds more than the instructions said just to make sure they were thoroughly cooked, and a glass of pulpless orange juice tucked precariously into the crook of her arm as she carried the meal to Uncle Dave’s bedroom.

It was two minutes after Hal watched Sunny depart from the kitchen that he heard a loud crash, glass and ceramic shattering, followed by Rex’s insistent barking and whining. He was on his feet and rushed to the scene, fearing the worst and finding exactly that.

“Oh, Sunny... Sunny...”

“U-Uncle H-Hal,” she barely managed through her cries. Rex, to his credit, ignored the food on the ground and nuzzled at her face, whining, confused and upset by the noises of unparalleled distress his beloved human was emitting. Stifling his own grief, Hal went over to the young girl and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

He didn’t do a great job at holding that grief in after all.

“Sunny, Sunny, Sunny... I’m so sorry... I should have checked up on him when I woke up... It’s okay, Sunny...”

“H-He’s d-d-dead. J-Just,” her stutter was exacerbated by her choking sobs, “J-Just l-like my m-mother.”

The downside of having such a bright child was that you couldn’t shield them from life’s harsh realities that easily. There was no convincing Sunny that Uncle Dave was with the birds in the clouds, or any other such comforting tale. 

He was dead and gone, and she knew that.

---

The gravestone read:

               David Emmerich

       Beloved father and husband.

All three of those titles were ones he had only worn for six months, but he had worn them with honor.•

[zafirosreverie]

Hi can I request an Agatha x fem!reader where r is sick and Agatha freaks out and tries to look after r and spend the day cuddling x

Here it is hon! Hope you like it <3 

Agatha vs Cold (Agatha xFem!reader)

When you didn’t come downstairs after she called you for breakfast, Agatha frowned. Maybe you overslept, or maybe you were taking a shower. Anyway, she didn’t think much about it, pretty sure that you’ll be in the kitchen any moment. 

When the coffee got cold, however, the witch started to worry. You wouldn’t miss breakfast or the chance to have coffee. Something must be wrong. 

Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way her heart was racing, Agatha went upstairs and carefully opened the bedroom’s door. She saw you were still asleep, which just worried her more. 

“Y/N?” She asked softly, she sat next to you and gently moved you to wake you up “Love? Wake up”

You groaned and rolled onto your back and snuggled up next to her. She was wearing shorts, so when your forehead touched her thigh, she felt you were hot. Oh no. 

“Y/N” she said again, moving you a little more roughly. “Y/N” she was getting scared. 

Agatha started to leave little kisses all over your face, knowing this was the best and safest way to wake you up. 

“unless the house is on fire, let me go back to sleep” you murmured. 

“The house isn’t, but you are, hon” she said

“Nothing you didn’t know already” you joked but your eyes were still shut. 

Even if her heart was racing, Agatha couldn’t help but smiled. You were cute even when you were sick. 

“Y/N, you’re sick. What happened?”

You groaned again “I babysat Billy and Tommy yesterday, remember?" The witch nodded, although you couldn't see her  "Turns out they’re both cheaters. They attacked me from behind"

Agatha frowned. What were you talking about?

"We said no powers, Aggie, but they cheated" you kept muttering.

Then she remembered seeing the children with water balloons and squirt guns. Of course! You had had a water fight while she and Wanda were going into town. You must have kept your wet clothes on for a long time. And now you were sick. Damnit.

“Little shits” you whispered but she could hear the love in your tone. You loved those kids.

“I’m sure you were kicking their asses, love” Agatha said, but in her mind she was panicking. 

She didn’t know how to take care of a sick human! You two have been a couple for not too long, and as a witch, whenever she got sick she just used her magic. But she doubted it would work on you. What if it was serious? And if you did not recover? What if she couldn't do anything for you? What if she lost you?

That last thought made her heart stop for a moment. No, she couldn't lose you. Perhaps the time you had been together was not long, but she had already fallen madly in love with you and there was no turning back.

Kissing your temple again, she whispered something about going to Wanda’s for a second. You only nodded, too asleep to care at all, and she knew she had to hurry up. 

She ran to Wanda’s and when the redhead opened the door, she quickly explained what was happening. Wanda chuckled and found quite cute how her friend was freaking out over a simple cold, but she didn’t have the heart to say it, so she just told her everything she knew that could help you. She even gave Agnes some honey and told her to put it into a tea. That should help. 

The brunette nodded and thanked her, not noticing the little smirk in the other woman’s face, nor the way the twins looked at each other, a little guilty and worried for you. 

When she arrived home, she used her magic to have it all ready in a second, not wanting to waste anytime. Stupid humans and their fragil nature! She was hoping you would get better soon so she could kill you for scaring her like this.

“Love, i’m back” she whispered and sat beside you in the bed, tea in hands.

“Pretty sure my girlfriend’s name is Agnes” you said but then frowned “No, Agatha...Agnatha?” God you were so cute. “Can i just call you Ags?”

“Yes you can, love” she said “Now come here and drink this” she said as she used her magic to make the tea float while she helped you sit. You rested your head on her shoulder. 

“Is it a potion?” you asked and blinked as the cup floated in front of you “Please tell me it is a potion”

“Kind of” she smiled 

You took a sip of it and let out a delighted sigh when the hot drink went down your throat. Honey and lemon, the best kind of tea. You drank it a little too fast and gave her the empty cup. After she placed it on the nightstand next to your bed, you hugged her and buried your face on her neck. 

“I’m sorry” she said, rubbing your back

“For not saving me from the war?” you asked and she giggled. 

“No...I-I don’t know how to do this, Y/N” she admitted.

“Cuddling with your girlfriend?”

“Taking care of a sick human”

You smiled and looked at her. You saw the fear in her eyes and how worried she was about this. It was cute and you felt so loved. 

“It’s just a cold, Ags, I’ll be fine in a few days” you assured her “But if you really want to know how to make me feel better, cuddle with me”.

Agatha frowned, confused. She didn’t understand how that would help, but she wouldn’t complain about this rare opportunity to spend the day in bed with you in her arms. Everything just to make you feel better.

[butwhyduh]

Jumping

Tim drake x reader

This is during the time that Dick has to fake his own death. I’m also ignoring most of canon tbh. Mentions suicide ideals.

You worried about Tim. I mean, you always had since you met him in a coffee shop and they gave him your order instead of his and all he did was ask for a shot of espresso to go with it. But tonight you were terribly concerned because Tim was so sad that he was dull. His shiny black hair hang limp and his bright blue eyes looked dull and blood shot.

You couldn’t exactly blame him. It was only 2 week before that his brother Dick had died. He hadn’t touched his computer all day but instead sat staring at various places around his apartment. You forced him to eat a very late meal and he took all of 3 bite from his food.

You washed up and went back in the living room for him to be gone.

“Tim? Tim?” You asked. You noticed the window to the fire escape was open. You walked over and shivered at the cold breeze.

He was standing on the edge of the roof and you froze. Your first thought was ‘is he going to jump?’ Your heart pounded as you gently called him and it scared you even more when he didn’t respond.

“Tim? Timothy? Tim, what are you doing?” You said with fear creeping in your voice. There was no way that you could climb the stairs up a level to stop him if he jumped right now. He looked down at you disoriented.

“What?”

“Please step back. You’re- you’re scaring me. Tim, please,” you said and he took a step back but looked bewildered. You quickly climbed the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a daze. You pulled him into a hug and farther from the edge. Your body was shaking and he confusingly pat your back reassuringly.

“Don’t scare me like that,” you chided him before mentally kicking yourself. If he was that bad, he needed support not anger. He really didn’t seem to get it.

“What are you talking about? What’s got you so scared?” He finally said clearly.

“I thought- I thought you were going to jump,” you said burying your head in crook of his neck. Your fingers gripped the back of his shirt tightly and you listened to his heartbeat. You might never let go of him.

“Oh shit. I wasn’t- no. I just needed to think,” he said rubbing your hair gently. “Sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay. I’m just worried. It’s a lot to lose your brother. Maybe you should talk to someone,” you said gently. He looked at you guiltily.

“I’ve been a little too lost in it, hu? Sorry. It’s just that.... I never expected this to happen. He always seemed invincible. He’d jump off the roof with no hooks or nets and swing on light poles before landing on the ground and wouldn’t hurt a thing. He’d take on metas and come out unscathed. That was just Dick, you know?” Tim said after a minute. “Nobody knew how he did it.”

Tim pulled you both to sit on a lawn chair on the roof. Your fingers played with the back of his hair and you couldn’t stop looking at him because you had never been so worried to lose Tim before. He flinched at the sight of how you looked at him. You were genuinely terrified earlier.

“I wouldn’t jump. I wouldn’t do that. Especially not to you,” Tim said and it scared you that you weren’t sure if he meant that he’d never do it or not where you’d possibly see. “Don’t worry. I’m right here.”

You let yourself believe that and you leaned into him, pressing your ear against his chest. His heartbeat calmed you and you listened to it as he rubbed your back. He stared out at the sky and Tim didn’t know how long you were both out there before he noticed that you had fallen asleep. He smiled a little.

Then his next thought was the logistics of getting you down to your bed without waking you. The fire escape wasn’t exactly built for carrying people through. Soft goosebumps were on your arms in the cold and Tim carefully picked you up and miraculously made it back into your apartment. After a few hair raising seconds where he almost smacked your head and feet on a door frame, he managed to get you in bed.

You hands had a death grip on his shirt and Tim was pulled into bed. It wasn’t the worst idea to get some sleep. And he certainly felt that he owed you some peace of mind after he scared you so bad. When was the last time he fell asleep? He laid back and you clung to him tightly.

The next morning you woke up warm. Far too warm. And arm was thrown over your face that you wiggled out from under and another held your back. You stretched your fingers that felt like they had been gripping something all night. The sun was out and Tim was still in bed. You put the pieces from the night before together and looked up at his face.

There was no scowl or wrinkle in his brow. He looked peaceful. His lips had a slight pout in sleep. His face had a light smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks and his hair had fallen over his eyes. You gently brushed it back to get a better look at his beautiful face. You held the back of his head as light as you could while staring at him. You almost never got this view and you just watched him sleep for a few minutes.

“Isn’t it rude to stare,” he said after a while. You jumped a little and laughed.

“Did I wake you?” You asked.

“No. I think I actually got a full night sleep,” Tim said and he still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“Yeah, we should probably get breakfast,” you said moving to get up. Tim wrapped his arms around you tighter and squished you to his chest. You squeaked.

“Not yet. A few more minutes,” he mumbled almost back asleep. You chuckled and booped his nose. Tim’s eyes flew open. “What was that?”

“Waking you up,” you said and he gave you a fake glare before his arms slowly moved. Then Tim attacked your sides with a tickle. You shrieked and jumped back before he stopped. He smiled at you almost ruefully before gently kissing you chastely. His smile fell when he pulled back.

“I’ve got to go to Bludhaven today. Take care of some of his stuff that he’d want to keep,” Tim said and you frowned.

“Do you need me to go?” You were still worried about him.

“No, Jason is going. Don’t worry about me, okay,” Tim said seriously. “I need to get up because he’ll be here in 30 minutes? Maybe?”

The knock on the door said that his timing was a little off. Tim got up to go answer it. Jason stood there and he frowned as he looked Tim over.

“That’s your clothes from yesterday.”

“I’ve got to change,” Tim said, letting him in. You came out of the room with a sweater over your clothes and smiled at Jason who nodded his head at you. Tim went in the bedroom to change.

“Hey,” you whispered, barely audible. Jason looked at you confused. You hadn’t really interacted much before. “Watch out for him. He’s not okay. Alright?”

Jadon just nodded. “Anything I should know?”

“No. Not really. He scared me last night,” you admitted as you put on a pot of coffee. Jason gave you a look that clearly read ‘do I need to kick his ass?’

“What did he do?”

“He just stood on the roof edge. I thought- I thought he was going to jump,” you whispered and Jason’s face dropped. Tim hadn’t exactly had the most self preservation in his history.

“Shit, seriously?” He said with a sigh. You nodded.

“But he just seemed confused when I found him. I’m worried. Just watch out for him, okay?” You said.

“What are you two talking about?” Tim said walking in the room, throwing on a tie.

“Really? A full suit?” Jason said rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, one of us needs to look like a functional adult in case someone stops by. I can’t exactly wear sweats everywhere as WE’s CEO,” Tim said. You straightened the tie and collar.

“... and then there is you,” Tim said looking at Jason after you were done. “You look like you tattoo out of the back parking lot of a Denny’s.”

“Maybe I do,” he said dryly with a little curl to his lip. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

Tim nodded and gave you a kiss and Jason groaned by the door. He gave the ‘come on’ hand gesture. Tim rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know when I’m going to be back. See you later.”

“Bye.”

Half ways down the highway, with Tim as a captive audience, Jason starts to talk.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Cut the shit. For real,” Jason said, violently passing a slow car on the highway in his truck. Tim grips the dash and is sure he’s going to die.

“I’m fine. Why do you think I’m lying?” Tim said through gritted teeth. Jason keeps driving roughly.

“Well, your girlfriend thought you were going to kill yourself last night and that isn’t exactly the first thought I’d have if I saw you on the roof. So either she’s being dramatic or you’re acting really off. Which is it, Timbo?” Jason said. Tim never missed Dick more. Jason had the subtly of a butter knife to the gut.

“I might be a little sadder, sure. I mean, my brother died,” Tim said. “Can you drive without trying to kill us?”

“I’m driving fine. Go on,” Jason said, crossing 3 lanes. The squeals of car horns behind them tell Tim he isn’t the only one that doesn’t like his driving.

“I’m gonna die in this car,” Tim muttered. Jason glared at him. “Watch the road! Okay. Fine. I feel numb. Okay? Like I don’t feel happy or sad about anything. And I’m fucking guilty because I should be over the moon because I just moved in with my girlfriend and then...”

“Then your brother died. It’s normal to feel like shit Tim. But to be numb.... you ever think you’re depressed?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know. I have anxiety,” Tim answered.

“You can have both. Is it this exit or the next?” Jason asked two second before the ramp comes up.

“This!” Tim yelped and Jason turned them off to a side road going at least 70 mph. Tim held the dash and considered praying despite being an atheist. Jason finally slowed down enough to not look like he’s driving a getaway car.

“I think you should see a therapist. I can give you mine’s number,” Jason said and Tim quickly turned to look at him.

“I didn’t know you went to therapy.”

“I was tortured, beat to death, and had to dig myself out of my own coffin. Does that seem mentally okay in anyway?”

“I mean, no. But I don’t know,” Tim said with a shrug. He just hadn’t thought about it.

“Anyways that’s not the point. The point is that she’s used to Gotham’s brand of bullshit and will help you. Okay?” Jason said driving into a parking lot and skidding into a space. “If you scare your girl like that again, I’ll knock you out.”

“Yeah. I won’t scare her again. It was an accident. And I’ll talk to your therapist,” Tim agreed. Jason nodded.

“Let’s go do something I’ve been dreading all week. Clean out golden boy’s apartment,” he said with a grimace. And they did. Anything of value was personally taken by the pair. Anything of Nightwing or Robin. Any Flying Grayson stuff. Anything that his brothers had gotten him. A moving service was moving the rest to a storage unit later that day.

Jason sat on the concrete steps outside the apartment and tossed Tim a beer. Tim barely caught it before sitting down himself. Jason pulled out his own.

“Jason, I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars to not drink that before we leave. Can we have this moment at the manor after we survive the drive home?” Tim asked and Jason sighed.

“Sure kid. Dickhead wouldn’t have liked me getting you drunk anyways. Let’s get this stuff back,” Jason said and they both went to the truck.

After dropping off the stuff and talking to Alfred, Tim and Jason were back in the truck. The beers were mercifully forgotten. Jason passed him a paper with a name and number.

“My therapist. You better call them. If not for you, for your girlfriend. You can just talk and shit,” he said not looking off the road. Jason knew better than to think that this kind of thing could be done for someone else. But he also knew it probably only took a tiny push for Tim to get help.

“Yeah, thanks.”

A few hours later Tim sat on his bed with his phone in hand. Yeah, he needed to call them.

[geminidentitycrisis]

Fatgum x F!reader "What a Hero SHOULD do"

Whew.

You guys.

I've been gone a long while, life has been a rollercoaster, but I don't really wanna get into all that noise. Just happy to be in a good place right now.

That said, this was painful to write because I had planned the ending very differently...

I'm not officially in the bnha/mha fandom but, I just got into it recently and wanted to show some love to my favorite Pro!

Hope you guys like it!

I haven't written anything in a while, so please go easy on me...

_____________

(WARNING! Mild angst)

"Hey, Fat...can I ask you something kinda personal...?"

Fatgum glanced down at his young intern with an eyebrow raised, tilting his head in curiosity. "Huh? Oh, sure. What's on yer mind?" he gave an encouraging grin to put Kirishima at ease. The red head craned his neck to look up at his boss, his own mouth twisted into a small frown.

"Have you asked _______ on a date yet...?"

He stumbled a bit but keeps walking, caught off guard by the question, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "Woah, where did that come from?!" he asked in return with a nervous chuckle. "Well..." Kirishima continued "You guys seem really close. The way you look at her when you see her-"

"Hahaha!" the burst of anxious laughter interrupted and Red Riot looked up at Fatgum again in confusion. "You're reading too deep into it, man! We're just friends! Heh..." Toyomitsu tried to act casually, but it wasn't working at all.

Kirishima pouted a bit, deciding to push a little harder.

"...but, I think she has feelings for you, too-" the blonde stopped walking and stared down at him, his blush growing darker and spreading across the bridge of his nose, cutting him off again. "Okay, let's change the topic, huh? Maybe we should go somewhere else for lunch..."

Eyes widening a bit, Red Riot raised both hands defensively and shook his head. "No, no! I'm sorry...I won't mention it again..." his expression became one of defeat and disappointment, shoulders slumping as he continued to walk, staring down at the sidewalk.

With an inward wince, Toyomitsu followed close behind, his own gaze dropping to the ground as well. Silence passed between the Pro and his sidekick for several minutes before Fatgum spoke up again.

"Honestly, she deserves better..." he mumbled.

This was a surprise to Kiri, his mentor was always inspirationally self-confident, it was disheartening to hear such a comment from the man he so deeply admired. He opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself when he remembered that he had already promised to drop the subject.

He felt bad for bringing it up now.

_______ was a sweet lady, she was funny and friendly, vivacious and beautiful, generous, tough and a fantastic cook. All Kirishima wanted was to see them both happy together. When they spotted each other through the window of the diner, their eyes lit up, a smile instantly formed on their lips, they would practically start glowing.

She always ran to jump into his arms, hugging around his neck, never failing to say how she missed him. He caught her every time, hiding his face in her hair as he hugged her back and would say he had missed her too, but especially her cooking!

If that isn't true love, Kiri thought, then what is...?

They finally made it to the diner and stopped outside. Fatgum looked through the window, and when he didn't see ______ anywhere, glanced at Red Riot again with a frown. "Listen, can I count on you to keep that little conversation between us? I don't want ______ to know how I feel..."

"You're not sick, are you??" a soft voice piped up from beside Toyomitsu.

It made both of them jump, startled. Fatgum whipped his head around to see ______ standing there, instead of her pretty smile, her face was flooded with worry at the thought of her Hero being ill or injured.

The Pro forced a crooked grin as the blush returned to his cheeks. "N-no, no, I'm fine! How's it goin'...?" he stuttered weakly.

She was clearly not convinced, the concern in her bright (e/c) eyes only deepened. "C'mon...all this time we've known each other, you think I can't tell when something's bothering you...?" he started to panic a bit but Red Riot swooped in to save the day like the rising star he was.

"Aw, he just had a big breakfast, that's all...he doesn't wanna hurt your feelings if he can't finish lunch." Kirishima answered casually with a lightly teasing undertone, arms crossing over his chest. She looked from him up at Fatgum who responded to her questioning expression with a sheepish grin and shrug.

At this, her smile bloomed in place, eyes twinkling mischievously as she playfully elbowed his broad, squishy belly. "Oh, c'mon! When have you ever left here without takeout, even after filling up?! As if it matters..." she giggled, hopping up into his arms as always, chin resting on his shoulder as she nuzzled against him sweetly.

"I'm just happy you're okay...I missed you!"

Bending at the waist with his arms extended, the blonde caught her effortlessly when she hopped up for the hug, sighing and closing his eyes as he rises to his full height, squeezing the small girl gently.

"Ahh, I'm fine, I'm fine...I missed you too..."

Kirishima gave a soft smile as he watched the exchange, dropping himself into the patio chair where he always sat when they came to the diner.

When he set her down, ________ smiled from him to his sidekick. "Your food should be done soon. It's a new recipe! I hope you guys like it!" then she waved over her shoulder as she walked back inside. Exhaling softly, Fatgum turned to sit as well. He glanced over at Red Riot, blushing a bit, only for it to get worse when he notices the toothy grin he's being flashed.

"...Oh, knock it off..." the pro grumbles, arms crossing and lowering his eyes to the tabletop.

"I didn't SAY anything...~!" Kirishima taunted childishly, arms folding behind his head as he leans back and closes his own eyes. "You didn't have to, punk." Tai shot back in typical big-bro style, reaching out across the table to muss the teens perfectly sculpted hair. "Aw, quit! It takes 40 minutes to set every morning!"

Fatgum chuckled, eyes rolling.

After some minutes passed, _______ returned with another server, both carrying trays of food which they placed on the table in front of the two heroes. "Wow! It looks so good!" they said simultaneously, earning a laugh from her.

"Well, I hope you like the taste even more. It's a cheeseburger-tater-tot-casserole. Dig in!" wasting no time, Kirishima and Toyomitsu start chowing down, both groaning happily around mouthfuls of the meal and nodding in approval. "Mmm...!" _______ laughed again, giving a thumbs up.

"Glad to hear it! I'll be right back with your drinks."

She left again but came back quickly with two pitchers and a cup, putting them between their plates. "Yer an angel, _____." Fatgum said with a grin, taking one of the pitchers and starting to drink from it. Red Riot snickered quietly before sipping his own drink.

"Oh, I just remembered! Check this out!" she said cheerfully, reaching behind her neck and starting to untie her apron. Upon glancing at her and noticing this, Fatgums eyes grew wide and a dark blush pooled in his cheeks, choking slightly on the ice water. "...?!"

Kiri froze, his eyes getting big as well and blushing slightly.

She dropped the top, revealing...

A tank top. With a picture of a sombrero. It said "If you don't like TACOS, I'm NACHO type"

Red Riot started laughing, covering his eyes with a hand as he tipped back his head. "Cute, right?!" she asked enthusiastically, looking from one to the other. Smiling weakly, Fatgum gave a slow nod. "It's great...really clever..." he wondered if steam would rise off him if he poured the rest of the water down his neck.

"Yeah, I knew I had to have it when I saw it. Anyway," she started to fix her apron again. "I'll let you guys finish eating. Let me know if you need boxes and your takeout oughtta be done before you get done with those. Enjoy!" with that, she walked off.

The blonde watched over his shoulder as she left before sliding his plate out of the way, folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them.

Grinning, Kiri nudged his foot under the table. "DON'T. SAY. A WORD." this reply only got him to laugh again, head shaking as he resumed eating. "Whatever you say, boss..." the red head hummed.

Between them, they were able to clear their dishes, waiting by the front door for the takeout, both content and full of tasty food. "Alright, guys. Here ya go! I'm glad you liked lunch, lemme know when you wanna try it again." Tai smiled down at her when she came out, taking the bags gratefully. "Yeah, definitely. Will do!"

______ hugged Kirishima tightly, pulling him down to place a kiss on his forehead, surprising him and making him blush faintly since she hadn't done it before. "Be safe, young man, you hear me?" she demanded. He answered with a broad smile and a nod. "Gotcha!"

"Ooh, do I get one of those?" Fatgum asked half jokingly, blushing too. Some color rose up on her cheeks as well, giving him a warm smile as she reached up for the BMI hero.

He put down the food to pick her up again for another hug, chuckling softly when she pressed a tender kiss against his cheek. "Aw, that was sweet!" Kirishima called up to them, earning a swift kick to the ass. "Ow! Hey!" the red head complained, rubbing the spot.

He set her down carefully with a deep sigh. She didn't let go of his arms and he looked at her in confusion. "Please be careful out there, Taishiro...I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you..." he grinned, placing a hand on her head. "I will. I'll be back before ya know it!"

She pressed herself into his tummy, coming nowhere close to being able to wrap her arms around him but she gives him her best hug anyway. The pro didn't have to look at his intern to know he was smirking smugly. He hugged her back before stepping away to grab his bags again. "Well...see ya, _____."

He waved, smiling, then turned so they could head back out. They only took a few steps before Fatgum stopped and glanced back at her over his shoulder.

She was still there, offering another small smile and wave of goodbye.

"C'mon, man! Just go for it! You TOTALLY got this!" Kiri urged desperately. But he was still hesitant. It wasn't an issue of his own self-confidence, but his career. He was so busy that he would hardly have time for you, and the way Toyomitsu saw it, you deserved to be waited on hand-and-foot.

He dreamed about being with you, which meant his worst nightmare would be a villain or criminal using you as leverage against him. It was best to leave things the way they are. It's what he SHOULD do.

A real Hero isn't so selfish as to put their own desires ahead of the safety of those they cherish, he reminded himself. With a heavy heart, he forced a smile to hide the pain and waved back before looking down at the ground and sighing, eyes closing slowly.

"...I just...can't...

[londonalozzy]

Don’t Tell Bucky 1/2

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Drama

Summary: The reader arrives home one night after drowning her sorrows, thinking she doesn't stand a chance with the guy she loves most, Bucky Barnes. She is so out of it that she ends up revealing all of her feelings to the first person she sees. The man himself.

Masterlist

I've been teased my whole adult life about what an old fashioned, hopeless romantic I am.

Yes, I'm an Avenger. Yes, I can kick ass when the occasion arises. But the rest of the time, the usual place to find me, is curled up on the couch with my head buried in a Jane Austen novel.

A couple of years ago someone came into my life that I thought was the key to it all. He was destined to be the Darcy to my Elizabeth, the Edward to my Elinor, the Mr Knightly to my Emma. Oh, how wrong I was!

When Steve first brought Bucky to Avengers HQ it was like a modern day version of when Bingley introduced Mr Darcy to the people of Meryton at the ball in Pride and Prejudice.

He was the archetype of the aloof romantic hero. Tall, dark, handsome, brooding and quiet. He kept himself to himself, observed everyone with eyes of an eagle, and only spoke when spoken to. I was well and truly hooked.

As weeks turned into months, Bucky and I came to an understanding, a friendship that only got more complicated as time went on. After everything he had been through, it was hard for him to open up to people, to let his guard down. What he did yearn for though, was companionship, someone to sit beside, someone to just be there if and when he needed them. I became that person for him.

Every time I decided to sit silently with a book in hand, it wouldn't be long before I had a certain super soldier at my side, just embracing the company, not having to worry about putting on a show for people he didn't feel comfortable with.

The complication in our relationship came when I realised how much I had come to depend on him being there for me.

My aching for him first made itself known when he started going out on missions that I wasn't apart of, when he went on all day training sessions away with the guys, and whole nights out when his confidence finally got a boost. I missed him. I missed him with every fiber of my being.

"So, I'm guessing you've heard the latest gossip on Barnes?" Nat asked me one morning over breakfast, her eyes not leaving her plate of blueberry pancakes as she spoke.

"Gossip? What are you talking about?" Any news on what Bucky was up to was music to my ears. I'd barely seen him these last few weeks, and it was seriously messing me up in more ways than I'd like to admit.

"You mean he's not told you? You? Princess Y/N?"

To say Nat was surprised by my ignorance was an understatement. This must be something big if she is shocked about it. When did it change to others knowing more about Bucky than I did? I thought we were best friends. He calls me Princess for Christ's sake.

"Maybe you should ask him yourself," Nat suggested, reaching across the table and rubbing my forearm. "I just assumed he would have told you first."

Now I'm seriously freaking out. "Nat, please just tell me what the hell is going on."

"You know Theresa down in medical?" Oh, shit. I've got a bad feeling about this.

"Yeah. What about her?"

"They're dating." Oh no!

It felt like my heart had leapt into my throat. I couldn't think, never mind know what to respond with. I knew it would happen eventually. I knew he'd end up with someone. I just assumed it would me. How stupid could I be?

"Y/N, you need to tell him how you feel." Why does Nat always have to be so good at this observation stuff?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I choked with a traitor tear in my eye, and a jump up from my chair when I suddenly felt the need to escape.

Nat followed me down the hall to my room, putting herself in front of me as I tried to change into my running gear. I had to get out of there. "You can't pretend this isn't happening Y/N. This is Bucky we're talking about. Your Bucky. You'll regret it if you don't tell him."

"Yeah, well I'll regret it a hell of a lot more if I do tell him and then lose him completely."

Nat grabbed my arms, stopping me in my tracks. She was one of my closest friends for a reason. She knew what made me tick, what scared me, what mattered the most to me. It's just not a risk I can take though.

"If you don't talk to him, all of this will get bottled up inside and it will ruin your friendship anyway. Y/N you need to get this out."

She was right. This was Nat. She was always right. My head and heart couldn't handle all of this new information. I didn't know how to deal with it, how to react.

So much for that epic romance I thought I was destined for. Looks like, for me, I'm only meant to be the friend, the side character in someone else's love story. I'm Eponine and not Cosette.

Deciding to lay off of me for the rest of the day, Nat rounded up Wanda and a few others and we headed out for a few drinks. Well, what started out as a few drinks anyway.

By the early morning I had at least 10 too many tequila shots in my bloodstream, partnered with a sore throat from overly emotional karaoke renditions of some of the best known heartbreak songs. I was a mess. A mess that could barely remember her own name.

"Are you drunk?" A random voice echoed through the hall as I stumbled around, trying and failing to get into what I hoped was my room at 2am.

"Why would you think that?" I replied to the swaying figure as they moved closer to steady my feet.

"Probably because you're trying to unlock your bedroom door with a lip stick. Plus the fact that the door doesn't have a lock on it anyway. What's up?"

Ignoring the nosy stranger, and giving up on getting into my room because the handle kept moving all over the place, I went in search of the nearest soft thing I could find to park myself on. Standing up was over rated anyway.

"You don't normally drink like this Princess," the randomer observed, leaning over me as I started making rug angels on the shag pile in the common room.

Why is this guy talking like he knows me? Who the hell does he think he is calling me that? "I've just got a lot on my mind. And don't Princess me. Only Bucky gets to call me that."

"Noted," the randomer laughed with a shake of the head, then joining me by laying at my side.

Staring at the ceiling as the silence engulfed us, I decided to confide in this handsome newbie. "If I tell you something, can you promise you won't tell anybody?"

"I promise," he responded without hesitation.

"I mean it, nobody can know. Especially Bucky. He can never find out." I pulled him into a sitting position and put my hands on either side of his face, trying to stress how important it was that he keeps this to himself. He really was pretty.

"I swear, Bucky will hear none of this from me."

"Ok. Here goes," I jumped up, frantic all of a sudden. "I want him to break up with his girlfriend, and it's seriously stressing me out."

"Why would you want him to do that? She's a nice girl isn't she?," pretty boy questioned in confusion, getting to his feet as well. Why did he care so much? Where the heck did he come from anyway? I swear, if this is one of Tony's robo experiments again I'm gonna flip.

"I'm sure they're perfect for each other," I groaned. "I just know that I don't want him with her. At first I had no idea why. He's one of my closest friends. I should want him to be happy right?"

"Of course," Mr Blue eyes confirmed with a furrowed brow and by gripping onto my now clammy hands.

"Then I started thinking about it. Why was I feeling like this? Why was it bothering me so much? I realised, it wasn't just this one girl I have a problem with. It's all girls. All except one."

"Who?"

"Me."

"Wait? What?" He bellowed, leaping backwards and pacing the floor. "You want m...I mean Bucky to go out with you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think so."

"Y/N, you can't just come out with something like that and respond with I think so," he screeched out in loud exasperation, so much so that I burst into flood of tears.

"Why are you shouting at me?" This guy is such a meanie.

When he saw how upset I was he immediately calmed down, placing his palms on my face and wiping the salty drops away. "Y/N please don't cry. This is just a lot to process."

It took me a while to calm myself down, hiccups escaping my lips as the crying finally subsided. Slowly, the angel man, stranger, person, thing walked me over to the couch and sat us both down. His eyes were boring into me, beautiful azure pools that looked slightly familiar. Maybe it was those bath bombs Steve keeps buying from Lush. I don't know.

"Why do you even care about all this? It's not like you know him or something?" I enquired, now looking at anything other than in those beautiful bath fizzer eyes.

"Just try to explain to me what's going on in that crazy little head of yours," he pressed.

Oh well. I may as well carry on now I've started.

"I've been with the Avengers for a long time. They're my family, my home. And don't get me wrong, I know they care about me, love me even. It's just easy to be sidelined, you know? To become an after thought when you're part of something so big. Bucky changed that. When I met him, it was like everything shifted. He became the reason I smiled every day, why I looked forward to getting out of bed. For the first time in my life I felt like I was at the top of someone's priority list."

"So are all of these feelings because you think you're gonna lose that? You think you're gonna lose him? I swear to you it won't happen." If it only it were that easy.

"I wish it was that," the tears building up once more as I eventually decided to look at him properly. "It would make all of this way less complicated."

"What is it then?," he pressed in urgency.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm head over heels in love with the guy."

[kpop---scenarios]

Turn - kjn

Byun Baekhyun | Park Chanyeol | Kim Junmyeon | Kim Jongin

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Kai isn't very interested in Baekhyun's gift, until you make him interested.

"I need you to do one more," Baekhyun begs you through the shower curtain. You had just woken up and here he goes springing it on you. 

"I thought you said you changed your mind on the fourth one?" You yell back, letting the water run through your hair. 

"I did, but then he started acting like a fucking asshole and my guess is because he hasn't gotten pussy in a while." Baekhyun scoffs. 

"What's wrong with him?" You ask, a little nervous for this one for some reason. 

"Nothing is wrong with him, he's just abstaining and it's making him out to be a real jackass. Girls don't try hard enough to get into his pants. He rejects them once and they break down. I need someone strong and sturdy, like a mule." He says. 

You peak out from behind the curtain. "I'm sorry, what?" You ask, less than impressed. 

"Confidence wise." Baekhyun chuckles. "A confidence that is strong and sturdy, cause when he rejects you, you need to keep pushing. This one is important Ayn. I need you to fuck him, fuck him real good." 

"Get out Baekhyun." You yell, desperately needing to finish your shower in peace but you had no issues with what he needed. You'd get it done, that's for sure. 

When you finally left the shower, you met Baekhyun downstairs for some breakfast, so he could give you the instructions you needed to complete your, as he calls it, mission. 

"So our friend Taemin is the owner of the club M. And inside there is an exclusive VIP room, called the Champagne room. That's where Kai will be drinking tonight. 

"Kai? I thought you said his name was Jongin?" You ask.

"Kai is a nickname," Baekhyun says, waving off your questions. "Now, I talked to Taemin because he agrees that Kai is being a baby back bitch and said he would let you in to do your thing." Baekhyun smiles. 

"Why do I feel like a prostitute." You sigh, placing your chin on your palm. 

"You're not.. really. But I mean you're not getting paid for this so technically you're just sleeping with dudes.. as a favour for me..  that sounds bad." 

"Stop talking." You sigh, standing up. "I will be at M tonight at 10 pm." 

"Thank you, I owe you ones, I mean one, cause paying you would make you a hooker!" He finishes as you walk out the door. 

Baekhyun sits there with a smile on his face. "That went well." He laughs. 

**

That night you stood outside M in your sexiest pair of heels and your shortest dress that perfectly showed off your cleavage. You took a deep breath before you walked into the club, wondering how you ever let Baekhyun talk you into doing this shit. 

Oh yeah, you remember, he convinced you with his cock. 

You walk up a flight of stairs, before turning down the hallway to see a man standing outside the door at the end of the hall. You approach him and he looks you up and down before nodding approvingly. 

"You must be Baek's.. friend." He says. 

"I'm not a hooker." You clarify. 

"Oh I know, although I'm unsure if Baekhyun knows because of the way he described you, you sounded like one." Taemin chuckles. 

"He should just never talk. Ever." He groans. 

"Anyways, Kai is in there and tonight." He pauses with a laugh. "He's feisty." 

You give Taemin a slight nod as he opens the door for you, allowing you to walk into the empty room. You spot Kai immediately, sitting at a table alone but you don't go for him right away, instead, you walk to the bar, getting yourself a drink and lean against it while you sip, looking around the place. 

Your eyes dart to Kai who chuckles to himself and sighs as he leans back in his chair, shaking his head. You finish your drink, walking up to where he sits. He turns to you, crossing his legs. 

"So, must be my turn?" He says, looking unimpressed as he takes a swig of his drink. You cock your head to the side, smiling at him as he stares at you like he's trying to figure out your game. 

"It is." You answer. 

He chuckles again, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not interested." He tells you. 

"That's fine." You say. "I just said I'd show up." You finish, sitting in the chair across from him. 

"What?" He asks, confused. "No seduction? No promises of a handy 600, or a gorilla grip job, or whatever people call it these days." He says. "Cyclone hips 5000?" 

"I'm sorry, what?" You laugh and then it dawns on you. "Ah, you've talked to Baekhyun." 

"I have. He warned me he was sending a present, and I've talked to Junmyeon and Chanyeol who told me to just let it happen because you change lives." He says. 

"I mean.. they're not wrong." You smile. 

"Like I said, not interested." He says again, finishing his drink. 

"And like I said, that's fine. But I've also heard somethings about you." You smile. "A nice, good, wet pussy really gets you going." You whisper, slouching in your chair a bit, spreading your legs.  "And I've been wet since I arrived." You finish. You watch Kai as his eyes dart down, looking between your spread open legs, no panties, just pussy. 

"Fuck." He hisses. 

You stand up, walking towards him before crawling into his lap. You sit on his thigh, letting him feel the heat radiating from you, letting your juices coat his pant leg.

"If you want me to stop, just say the word and I'm done." You whisper in his ear, biting his lobe. 

Kai lets out a small growl from in his chest, he picks you up and you wrap your legs around him. He looks at the bartender with hunger in his eyes. "Get out." He spits. The man quickly exits the room as Kai lays you on a couch, discarding his jacket as fast as he can. He pulls your legs open, falling to his knees as he buries his head between your thighs, licking a long strip up your pussy. 

"So fucking good." He groans. Kai spreads your lips with his fingers, latching his mouth to your clit, sucking hard. You pull down the top of your dress, exposing your tits before taking them in your hands, squeezing. Kai begins to lick your clit, teasing the bud with his tongue as he inserts two fingers into your pussy, causing you to arch your back. 

"Shit." You cry out, squeezing your tits harder. 

Kai continues to suck and lick on your clit as his fingers pump in and out of you. Your orgasm builds quickly, his movements throwing you over the edge, making you cum hard and loudly. 

"Oh my god." You scream as he keeps going, you come down from your high but he doesn't stop, his tongue and his fingers building another orgasm that makes you explode. Your chest is heaving as he pulls his fingers from inside you, sticking them in his mouth. His eyes meet yours as he licks his fingers clean, licking your cum off. 

"I've missed good pussy." He growls. He stands up, unbuttoning his pants before pulling them down. You move to your knees, staring, the veins running along his large, thick cock make you want to have him fuck you so hard. 

You place your hand on his shaft, pumping his cock a few times, making him throw his head back as he lets out some loud moans. You open your mouth, taking in as much of him as you can at once, hollowing out your cheeks. Kai groans at the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth, and the feeling of him going down your throat. You look up at him as he starts thrusting his hips, keeping his thrusts slow as he watches his cock go in and out of your mouth. His last thrust is hard, shoving himself down your throat, making your eyes water as his hands get tangled in your hair, keeping his rhythm while he fucks your face. 

He pulls his cock from your mouth, standing you up and turning you around to bend you over the table. Your dress rides up, exposing your bare ass. Kai raises his hand and comes down with a hard smack, landing it right on your ass cheek before he lines his cock with your entrance, quickly pushing himself in. 

"Jesus.. fuck." He grunts, his hand already grabbing a clump of hair to pull your head back as he snaps his hips, shoving his cock deep inside of you. 

"Just like that." You cry, clenching yourself around him. Your eyes begin to roll as he keeps up with his slow but hard thrusts, pounding into you, making your body jolt forward. 

"Good little slut." He grunts, pulling you up, flush against him. He continues to slide his cock in and out of you as his hand reaches around, cupping your breast before moving down between your legs to play with your clit. 

Your legs begin to shake as your orgasm comes from out of nowhere, building fast. "Cum all over my cock." He breathes in your ear. You cry out, loudly as your knees buckle and you cum. You can feel it dripping down your thigh as Kai groans about how wet you are. 

"Perfect fucking pussy." He grunts, thrusting again and again. "I'm gonna cum." He breathes. 

"Cum inside my pussy." You cry out, reaching behind you to keep him inside you. "Cum in me." You moan. 

Kai breathes heavily as he thrusts erratically, holding onto you tightly as he shoots his cum inside you, coating your walls. 

"Fuck." He moans. "I've missed that." He breathes. 

You both stand there for a few seconds, catching your breath. Kai pulls out of you, helping you sit on the couch as your legs wobble. He pulls up his pants, sitting across from you as you both laugh. 

"Thank you, Baekhyun." He laughs. 

** 

A few weeks later, Baekhyun had texted you to come over because he wanted to talk. It was safe to say you were a little nervous but you went. You walked into Baekhyun's room and see him, Chanyeol, Junmyeon and Kai sitting there, looking at you. 

"What's going on?" You ask. 

"We want you, again." Chanyeol blurts out.

"Here," Junmyeon says. 

"Now," Kai says. 

"All of us." Baekhyun smiles. 

You take a deep breath and walk into the room fully, closing the door behind you. 

[ibelongtowrath]

Put You To Sleep - Leviathan x Reader (Obey Me!)

A/N: You’re tired and can’t fall asleep, so shower sex with Levi ensues and he uses his tail. Welcome to Tail Fuckers United. I finished this at like 2am so I hope it makes sense lmao Prompt: “If you can’t sleep, why don’t we have sex?” Pairing: Leviathan x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.9k Tags/warnings: 18+/NSFW, vaginal sex, anal sex, fingering, double penetration, tail sex. NSFW under the cut!

Ugh. How many hours has it been now since I went to bed?

Rolling over slowly as to not wake the sleeping demon curled up beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist, you reach for your D.D.D on the nightstand. The screen wakes as you raise it, searing bright light practically scorching your eyes in the otherwise inky darkness of the room.

Placing the phone back face-down, you close your eyes and exhale slowly, willing yourself to succumb to sleep. Come on, come on, we have classes tomorrow…but, more time passes, and your body refuses to be overcome with sleep.

With a slight groan, you lift Levi’s arm from around you, placing it down gently on the bed before rising and padding slowly over to the bathroom. You pause before walking in to turn your head and admire the Avatar of Envy’s peaceful, still-sleeping form; mouth slightly open, a tiny snore emanating from his lips. 

A soft smile, paired with a look of utter adoration paints your face before turning back to enter the bathroom, shedding your clothes to toss into the hamper. Perhaps a nice, long shower will help lull you to sleep, though it may be pointless - it is nearly early morning, and you will have to be awake for breakfast in a matter of mere hours. Well, it’s worth a try, isn’t it?

You open the door to the shower, turning the knob until the swish! sound of the water pouring through, a few warm droplets coating your arm. While you wait for the water to heat (surprisingly, it takes a while for the water to reach optimal hot shower temperature, even in the literal depths of Hell), you stride over to the vanity and lean over, gripping the sides with each hand. 

You raise your head slowly to stare at yourself in the reflection of the mirror, groaning when your gaze lands on the lines forming beneath your eyes; a clear indicator of lack of sleep, and you know Asmo will be pointing it out at breakfast. You close your eyes, resting your head in your hand for a few brief seconds.

It was hard to believe that one of those rare sleepless nights has come back to haunt you. Having occurred much more frequently when you first arrived in the Devildom during your adjustment period, they had graciously begun to subside as you found your routine.

A deep sigh escapes your lips before slowly turning back towards the shower, grateful to feel wisps of warm steam lightly caress your face, the feeling of it already beginning to melt your tension. Another slightly more contented exhale leaves you as you reach to open the shower door, eager to step in and let the water cascade over your tired body before a set of arms wrapping around your waist halts your movements and you startle.

“What-” you breathe, heart racing.

“You’re going to take a shower and didn’t think to invite me, princess?” a familiar voice murmurs behind you, placing a soft kiss into the top of your head. “Tsk, tsk.”

“Fucking hell, Levi, don’t scare me like that. I thought you were asleep.” You pull his arms off of you, turning around to shoot him a look.

“Aw, don’t look at me like that. I was until I heard the siren song of the shower, knowing you were about to get in, no clothes on…,” Levi murmurs, a smirk upturning the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, well,” you huff, shaking your head, “I haven’t been able to fall asleep. I thought maybe a nice, relaxing shower might help…”

Levi chuckles, kissing your head again. Making quick work of shedding his clothes, you watch as he shifts into his demon form, snakelike tail reaching up to caress your cheek. You swallow, pressing your legs together. He knows damn well that tail...and he… is your weakness. He smirks wider, noticing that lustful, glazed-over look in your eyes when you’re turned on. 

“Well, if you can’t sleep,” he purrs, nodding towards the shower, “why don’t we have sex?”

“Did you miss the part where I said ‘relaxing’ shower?” you retort, though it lacks in bite, and Levi knows it.

He snakes his tail down to your legs, gliding it tantalizingly slow between your wet folds, eliciting an excited, breathy moan as your teeth bite into your lip. Goddamn it.

Sleep? Who gives a damn about sleep right now?

“Levi…”

You say the Avatar of Envy’s name in a breathy moan, desperation and utter need laced into each syllable. The demon continues his work, stroking his tail back and forth between your legs; eyes trained on yours, watching your blissed-out expression with a wicked grin. A few moments later, he pulls his tail from you, admiring the way it glistens in the bathroom lights, coated with your arousal. You whimper at the loss and his cock twitches, eager to bury himself inside your slick, constricting warmth.

“Come on, princess,” Levi husks, his desire evident. “Let’s not waste any precious water.”

You grin and nod, turning to open the shower door and stepping inside, followed closely by Levi. 

“That would be a shame,” you agree, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t have that.”

Stepping under the rainfall showerhead, the water drenches your body in mere seconds. Levi watches, entranced as tiny droplets travel down your lithe body, cascading sensually over every curve of your waist, hips, and delicious thighs before pooling beneath your feet and swirling down the drain. You look ethereal; a wet, erotic vision: steam floating around your nude body, wet hair sticking to your shoulders, eyes closed in bliss, lips slightly parted.

He wastes no time, crossing over to you and pressing your back to the cool tiled wall. His lips find yours, tongue begging entrance between your soft, parted lips, rolling over your own in a fevered dance, each passing moment making the movements hungrier, more fervent. A low moan elicits from his mouth into yours, his hands reaching to trace over the generous curve of your hips, moving up to your waist before settling on the soft, supple mounds of your breasts.

“I’ll help you fall asleep, princess,” the Avatar of Envy coos against your wet skin.

Levi pulls away from the kiss, catching your bottom lip with his teeth and nibbling as he pulls back. He massages your breasts, thumbs circling the sensitive buds of your nipples, delighting in the lewd noise you make in response. His mouth moves to your neck, lightly nipping and sucking on the skin as he makes his way to your shoulder, traveling down to your breast.

The demon parts his lips, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he sucks, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from you. He rolls it gently between his teeth, snaking a hand down between your legs to circle your clit with his thumb in slow, teasing strokes.

“Levi...L-Levi,” you keen, digging your nails into his back.

Levi sinks to his knees before you. He urges your legs apart with his tail, nails finding purchase in the soft skin of your thighs as they sink in. His tongue darts out to lap at your sweet desire pooling between your legs, droplets of water running in rivulets over the ample curves of your delicious body. Your hands reach forward to thread your fingers into his purple hair, soaked to a rich violet in the water. His amber eyes glisten as he flits his gaze up to yours, swallowing your essence.

“Mph…” 

The wanton moan falls from your lips, and Levi feels his cock twitch once more. He hooks your leg over his shoulder, rising slowly until your leg straightens, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. He smirks at your whine of desperation, desire running rampant in every sound you make.

“Sing for me, princess,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue over your other nipple. “Tell me how badly you want me; I see that look in your eyes. Beg me.”

“Please, Levi, please. Fuck me,” you mewl, shakily; thoughts nearly incoherent, all feelings of sleeplessness gone, focused only on feeling him buried inside you.

“That’s a good girl…”

Levi teases his cock along your wet heat, sliding his tail up to caress your cheek. He notes the way your eyes widen at the sight of it, the way you hungrily bite your lip. Your eyes glaze over as you imagine his tail inside you, alongside his cock, working in tandem to drive you to places of ecstasy. A wicked smirk upturns at the corner of his lips, formulating a plan inside his mind.

“Slight change of plans, princess,” he purrs.

He gently lowers your leg to the floor of the shower, relishing your look of confused surprise. He tsks, clucking his tongue and shaking his head at you.

“Be patient, you little slut,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry, I fully plan on fucking you so well, you’ll fall asleep in my arms within seconds. I suppose I should say, slight change in position.”

Levi presses a soft kiss to your cheek before grabbing your shoulders and turning you around, pressing your cheek and breasts to the cool tiled wall. He runs an appreciative hand over the curve of your ass, pulling it back and placing a hard smack against it. He kisses your neck as you hiss, the sore stinging feeling quickly replaced by breathy, needy gasps.

“Levi, please, I need you-” you start to beg again, your words halted by a sharp bite into your neck.

“That’s right, you do, my needy little princess,” Levi growls into your skin. “Look at you. Keening, begging for me to have my way with you, spread open just for me. All it took was one look at my tail, and you forgot all about how tired you were, you naughty thing.”

Placing a hand on the back of your neck, he presses your face into the wall just a bit more. Biting the delicate skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, raking his nails down your back as his tail wraps around your leg, relishing the way you shudder in anticipation. He slips his tail between your legs, sliding it over your sensitive bundle of nerves before plunging it inside you. Lewd gasps of pleasure fill the surrounding air, coupled with the stream of water pulsing from the shower as Levi pumps his tail into your dripping heat.

“Tell me,” Levi says, voice coated in velvet seduction, “how do you feel about being fucked in both holes at the same time?” 

He continues to slide his tail in and out of you, slightly increasing his pace as he awaits your answer. The thought of being so full of him, stuffed to the brim, makes you gasp as the desire etched into every cell of your body increases tenfold. You keen with frantic need, thoughts rendering completely incoherent as your brain short-circuits, only able to focus solely on the pleasure you so deliciously crave. Your back arches, urging his tail deeper inside you.

“Y-yes, fuck, yes!” 

The words spill from your lips in a breathy moan, and he smirks.

“Of course you want it, you insatiable little slut,” he chuckles. “Well, who am I to deny such a good princess?”

Levi pulls his tail from between your legs, grinning in admiration at the slick end, coated in your abundant fluid arousal. He moves a hand down to your hip, aqua nails digging into the skin, hard enough to leave marks behind before pulling it away. He teases a few fingers over your wet slit before sliding them inside you, moving and curling them a few times. You groan, pushing your hips back into him, longing coursing through every fiber of your being.

He pulls his fingers from you, both hands moving to grasp your ass. He pulls one back to crack against the soft mounds of your skin once more, smiling at the red mark left behind as he spreads you apart. A slick finger teases at your tight, puckered hole before pushing in, allowing you to adjust to the slight pressure for a few seconds; pumping in and out slowly.

 Continuing his ministrations, Levi slides his cock in your wet, constricting warmth, groaning as he buries himself to the hilt. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head as you sigh in satisfaction, having gained the much-needed stretch of his cock between your walls. He starts slow, rolling his hips into you, letting out his on gratified sound of pleasure as he begins to move inside you.

“You’re so tight and wet for me,” he groans.

His hips snap into yours, fucking you hard and fast. He growls; a low, rumbling sound from deep in his chest as he fucks into you. Adding a second finger to your tight hole, he scissors them, preparing you for his tail. Your jaw clenches in both desire and anticipation, more than eager to feel the demon fill you to the brim. A needy, breathy whine sounds from your lips and Levi growls once more, thrusting into you at a relentless pace. 

“You want me to fill you so badly, don’t you, my needy dirty little slut,” he rasps, words stunted in the effort of his thrusts. “So noisy, so desperate for me. Let’s fix that, shall we?”

The cadence of his hips rises to a merciless rhythm as he pulls his fingers from your ass, making quick work of sliding his tail in before you begin to feel too empty. You bite back a loud gasp, the sudden intrusion causing your muscles to clench, though only slightly; having done this before, the pressure was not painful, more so still a bit unfamiliar. Levi presses a soft kiss to your cheek, coaxing you to relax. 

As he feels your muscles loosen, he begins to pump his tail in and out of your ass at a steady pace, moving in tandem with the fierce tempo of his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy. A hand slips from its grip on your hips, sliding up your slick body, pinching a nipple along their journey to your mouth. Levi presses a few fingers to your lips, urging you to open your mouth. You oblige, sucking on his fingers, moaning as you feel so full in every orifice. 

Feeling his cock slamming into your pussy from one angle while his tail pushes against your g-spot from the other, the pleasurable sensation floods you. A scream filled to the brim with ecstasy tears from your throat, and Levi smirks, doubling his efforts to elicit another high-pitched scream; growling once more, his head dropping back, lost in the feel of your body and the sounds of your bliss. 

“That’s right, princess, scream for me,” he moans. “Scream my name. Let all my brothers be the envious ones for once. Let them know who’s making you feel so good right now.”

“F-fuck, L-Levi, I’m going to-”

I’m going to cum. 

The words are halted as your release crescendos, the world seemingly stuttering on its axis. A fire pools low in your abdomen, between your hips. Your walls grip Levi’s cock and his tail from different ends like a vice, signaling your oncoming orgasm. The demon leans forward, lips pressed to your neck as he continues to slam into you, cock and tail moving in unison to bring you to your climax.

“Cum for me, princess, let me feel how much you enjoy what I’m doing to you,” breathes Levi, moving to the side of your neck to bite at the skin. “I’ll be right behind you…”

The feel of teeth sinking into your neck pushes you over the edge, pain mixing with pleasure. Fire blazes a trail from your hips, the delicious inferno shuddering throughout your body; bliss etched into every droplet of your blood, heart pumping harder, faster, determined to feel it in every single cell of your being. Another high-pitched scream resonates from deep within you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as stars dance in your vision, more wetness gushing between your legs.

Levi’s release chases yours as you tighten around him. He spills into you, pumping his hot, white seed deep inside your core.

“Fuck, princess, you’re amazing,” he groans, pressing a soft kiss into your shoulder.

Reluctantly, Levi pulls out of you, his tail following suit. He spins you around, catching you as you collapse into him. He places a few fingers under your chin to tilt your head up towards his own: your face alight in the afterglow of orgasm, eyes closed as a soft smile pulls at the corners of your lips, steam floating around your fucked-out body.

“I...think I’m sufficiently tired now,” you mumble, opening an eye to look at him.

Levi chuckles, quickly rinsing you in the hot water before shutting it off. He picks you up, bridal style, making his way back to your bed and grabbing a towel along the way. He sets you down, gently drying you off as your eyelids flutter, struggling to stay awake. Dropping the towel in the hamper, he lays you down before climbing in behind you and pulling the covers over your bodies.

Wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to him, your back flush against his chest, Levi chuckles softly, noting the way your breathing has evened, the gentle rise and fall of your chest evidence of your slumber. He presses a kiss into the top of your head, hair damp, before settling in next to you, his own eyes closing as he nuzzles into your neck.

“I’ll fuck you to sleep every night, princess, if it helps.”

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part III/VII)

"shock therapy"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst mostly

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: language, grief, allusions to suicide, mentions of death, let me know if I missed something

A/N: okay this is... Kinda dark, but I mean, expected given the prompt I'm working with lmao, I'd say enjoy but... Well, enjoy <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part I: sleepless nights

Part II: candy floss

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

It began with small actions, like waking up earlier than me, or taking on making breakfast himself.

I thought he was feeling better.

Then came the big actions, like deciding to switch places with me an working with the clients while I made the shippings.

I started to feel something was off the third day since the exchange; I escaped the office to visit him and he could have easily passed as the giant mannequin in our façade.

"Are you alright?" I questioned in a worried whisper near his ear.

"Of course." I knitted my brows, puzzled at his response. He noticed how odd it had been due to my face, and that forced smile fell for a second as he leaned on me to place a kiss on my crown. "Don't worry about me, darling."

Before I could insist, his attention was stolen by a couple of very confused clients.

The following night in the flat, while we were making dinner, it seemed he had gone back to his usual demeanor, so I figured he was making extra effort to look happy in front of the customers.

I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong, though, something between us; I couldn't pinpoint it, yet knew it existed.

It was that same night that I got a grip of what was going on, when the bed's weight shifted, shaking me out of my sleep just in time to hear a muffled sob followed by a shaky breath.

"George?" His eyes met my own as I propped myself on my forearms.

"Did I wake you?" He questioned, his voice as quiet as mine. "Sorry, love."

Sometimes —more often than not— when he called me that name, I would feel butterflies in my stomach, and the fact that it was normally accompanied by some kind of physical contact didn't help at all.

He extended his arm to reach my hand, his thumb caressing the back of my palm. "Go back to sleep." He commanded in a soft whisper, getting up and walking towards the door.

As the door closed, my chest ached at the mere possibility of us going back to the first week we spend together in the flat after the war.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I went straight to the kitchen and splashed my face with water before pouring myself a glass of milk.

Y/n had the brilliant idea of throw away all the alcohol in our apartment to avoid falling into bad habits as a copying mechanism, and, in all honesty, it was one of her best ones.

Grabbing the glass, I made my way to the living room, plopping down on the couch; I wouldn't even try to fall asleep there— it was proven impossible during the first week.

I had to snap out of it and start to sleep in my own room; the war left us all scarred in s million ways, and one of them included that even the slightest, quietest movement would wake you up, and I knew for a fact that Y/n wasn't getting one single night of sound sleep, and I was the one to blame.

"Oi," Speaking of which.

"What are you doing up?"

"Checking on you." She responded, leaning against the doorframe "You alright?" I nodded, but she walked to the couch either way, sitting down and letting herself fall over my chest. "You've been acting weird." She mumbled, snugging her face on my chest and consequently making my heart swell. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

I hummed, my chin resting over her crown as my arm wrapped around her. "I know." I murmured, knowing very well it was lie.

There was several things I couldn't and wouldn't tell her ever, but I wouldn't let her know that. "C'mon, go back to bed."

"Not without you." It wasn't more than a mumble, since she was beginning to fall asleep on my chest, but it was loud enough to trigger me.

How many times I had dreamed of having her just like this, how many times had I yearned to wrap my arms around her and never let go, to kiss her, to sleep with her before the war; I still did.

I still wanted to kiss all her sadness away, to be able to call her mine; I still loved her in a way I shouldn't, and somehow it felt even more wrong now that Fred was gone.

It took me a moment to realise she had, in fact, fallen asleep. I carried her back to her bed and lay her down, carefully pulling the sheets to cover her.

I lay down too, promising myself I would face my fears the next day— I owe her that, at the very least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n had left the apartment to go down the Diagon Alley to buy groceries and a new blouse.

It's now or never, I thought to myself, standing at the start of the hallway. I took a deep breath and made my way to my room with my bags hanging on my shoulders.

You can do this.

I reached for the knob with shaky hands and turned it.

You can do this.

My arms pushed the door open in a swift movement, my eyes anxiously scanning the room as if I was expecting to find a monster inside.

But there was no monster, it was just my room; a bit dusty and with a musty smell, but still my room.

I left my bags on the floor and sat on the edge of my bed. It wasn't scary, nor haunted, as I thought it would be, and I felt a weight off my shoulders; Y/n would be able to sleep the nights through, instead of waking up every now and then to my gasps and sobs.

Since it had been way easier than I thought it would be, I decided to take it a step further; I would have to enter there sooner rather than later to clean, so why not now?

Oh, what a big mistake I had made.

READER'S P. O. V.

"I'm back!" Somehow, I had managed to climb upstairs whilst carrying all the bags without tripping. "Did you know that Florean Fortescue's has three new ice cream flavours?" I threw the Twilfitt and Tatting’s bag on the sofa and made my way to the kitchen. "Don't be mad but I got you something at Twilfitt and Tatting’s!" Laying the groceries over the counter, I frowned at George's lack of responses. "George?" I left the kitchen and took a look around the flat; maybe he was down in the shop?

I was about to go downstairs when I saw a crack of light down the hall, one coming from a partially open door —from Fred's door.

My heart pounded hard against my chest as I made my way to the part of the house we rarely got to.

I knew George had to be inside, but the fact that no sound was coming out of the room —no sobs, no weeping, no ragged breathing— was about to put me under cardiac arrest.

What if during the last week he had gotten worse —rock bottom kind of worse— and that was why he had been acting so distant? What if those 'don't worry about me's had been foreshadowing something terrible?

I shut my eyes, my pulse hammering as I pushed the door open, dreading to find a horrifying scenario.

Open your fucking eyes, Y/n.

I couldn't help the sigh of relief when I saw George kneeled in the middle of the room, alive and breathing.

Then, I doubled checked and realized that maybe he wasn't that much alive. I circled the ginger so we could be face to face, and my heart shattered at the sight in front of me; his eyes were puffy, his cheeks pale, his nose red and streaks of freshly shed tears wetting his face. His hands clutched onto something that I quickly recognised as Fred's blazer, and my breath caught up in my throat.

"George..." I called his name in a quiet whisper; somehow it felt like we were trespassing.

He then looked up at me, eyes hollow, and spoke words so harsh that they burned, even if they weren't meant to hurt me. "It should have been me."

"George—"

"It should've been me there, I should've gone with Percy."

"Please—"

"It should've been me, not him." I felt my eyes watering, slightly blurring my vision as the man before me kept talking. "He had a life— he had you, I didn't have anything but him." His gaze was now casted down, and I no longer knew if he was speaking to me or to himself. "What am I compared to him? It should be me six feet under, not him."

That last sentence was what snapped me out of the state I was in. "Look at me." I commanded, kneeling in front of him and cupping his cheeks. "Do you think Fred would've wanted you to think that?" His lower lip quivered; we rarely said his name out loud anymore. "He would have beaten your ass. Don't you dare think like that ever again, you hear me?"

"But it's true—"

"No it's not!" I yelled, making him flinch. "It's not, George." I repeated, this time softer, my thumbs caressing his cheeks soothingly. "You're sweet, creative, caring and smart, and I'm so happy to have you here with me." His eyes closed, eyebrows knitted and lips pursed. "You're your own person, and that person is amazing." He leaned on, letting his forehead fall on my shoulder, my hands travelling to his back and hair as his arms wrapped around my waist.

"I miss him, Y/n." He confessed. "I miss him so much— it hurts."

“I miss him too, but I can’t let you lose yourself because of him.” I explained, planting a chaste kiss on his temple. “I cannot lose you too, okay?” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear.

"I'm sorry." His breath fanned on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "I wanted to get better, so you didn't have to take care of me."

"Oi," I squeezed him tighter, if possible. "We're taking care of each other." His face buried deeper in the crook of my neck and I had to hold back a content sigh. "We can do this— together." I stated. "You can't go on your own for shock therapy— it doesn't work like that." He nodded. "You gave me a big scare."

"I'm really sorry." His hand, which, until then had been holding onto the blazer, let go of it in order to rub my back.

We stayed like that in silence for Merlin knows how long before I spoke against his shoulder, "I bought chocolate strawberries ice cream."

"Is that a thing?" I hummed affirmatively. He slowly pulled away, his hands leaving my back to rest on my waist before they held mines, pulling me up with him. We gazed into each other's eyes for an instant that felt like an eternity. "I didn't mean to scare you, love." He assured me, pulling me into another hug, this one only long enough for him to kiss my crown.

"I know." I pulled away, giving him a small smile that he managed to return, most likely involuntarily. "Wanna try that ice cream?" He nodded and I led him out of the room. "I also bought you a tie at Twilfitt and Tatting’s."

"Why would you buy anything from there?" His voice was starting to recover some strength as we walked to the kitchen with our hands interlaced.

"'Cause it was a very pretty tie." I defended myself, going to the sofa to grab the fancy bag while George went to grab a couple of spoons and the ice cream. "Look."

He walked to me and examined the tie. "Okay, it's quite pretty." He agreed, offering me one of the spoons.

"Told you." I handed him the tie and he gave it another look before leaning down to kiss my cheek.

"You didn't have to buy me anything." That small smile appeared again, making my heart swell.

"Well, I wanted to." I went to sit on the couch and he followed my lead, carefully leaving the tie over the backrest so he could open the tub.

"Sweet." He commented, dipping his spoon into the ice cream and handing me the container. We ate it in silence and, once we finished, his voice filled the room. "I think I might go for a nightwalk."

"It'll do you good." I nodded, bringing my knees to my chest and curling up in the couch after he took the spoon away from me and got up to leave it in the sink.

"Do you wanna come?" His quiet, almost sheepish question made my head turn to the kitchen door. "I mean— you've just come back but—" He left the kitchen, staring at me expectingly, scratching the back of his neck. "uh... if you wanna come, I could use some company."

"I'd love to." I didn't even notice the way my gaze lighted up until I saw it reflected on his own features, that shone with the slightest tinge of joy.

The fact that I was able to do that only by smiling at him made my tummy flutter.

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Aaron Hotchner / A Promise Amongst the Storm

Prompt: Based on season 11, episode 22, “The Storm” aka the episode Hotch gets arrested. 

Summary: A family always kept their promises - but you just hoped you could keep yours to Jack, and get his father out of jail. 

Word Count: 4,806

Warnings: fluff, angst, some language, reader going very lawyery on people’s asses, me possibly having too much fun using a tiny bit of what I learned in law school, mentions of Haley, use of dialogue from the episode

"You getting all packed up?" Aaron asks, his footsteps heavy with the thud of his shoes against the carpeted hardwood. 

"Uh-huh," Aaron walks across the dining area, a kiss to your forehead. 

"That means you too," you were typing furiously at your laptop, brow thoroughly furrowed. You needed to get this email out to your opposing counsel, just to let him know how inappropriate that sandbagging he pulled was, and how you were going to let the judge know that in your discovery meeting today. 

"I'm almost done, grandpa, give me a minute," you mock grumble, shooting a grin to Jack, who hid his smile as he packed his backpack, before running out the room to grab something. 

Aaron hums, his arms curl around you, "Is that how it's gonna be, old timer?" 

"Since when am I old?" You giggle, as his large hands press into your hips, before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your neck, fingers finding yours, the cool metal of your wedding bang against his skin. 

"Since you married a grandpa," he murmurs against your skin, as Jack re-enters, grimacing. 

“Can you guys not be gross so early in the morning?” he has a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “I just ate breakfast.” 

“I didn’t realize we were so gross that we could induce sickness amongst children,” you say, and Aaron laughs, pressing one last kiss to your cheek.  

“Must be the elderly thing,” and you scoff, hands on your hips. 

“Jack, am I old?” and then you see him hesitate, “Don’t answer that.” 

“Good thinking,” Aaron mumbles, and you stick your tongue out at him, as Jack smiles, continuing to pack up his backpack. 

The doorbell rings, and you see Aaron strode by to open it, “Hurry up,” he warns you more than Jack. You shut your laptop and tuck into your bag just in time to see J.J. and Henry enter past Aaron, grinning, “Good morning,” 

“Hi,” J.J. greets, before the kids start talking. 

“Did you bring the comics?” You throw your bag over your shoulder, ready to leave. 

“Yeah, the new one comes out today,” Henry replies, the kids heading over to the dining table, as you mouth to J.J. ‘What comics?’ 

She waves you off, ‘It’s fine. Our kids are nerds.’ You hide your laugh, as Jack finishes up packing up, continuing to discuss the comics at length with Henry as he does. 

“We really appreciate you giving us a drive today,” J.J. says, a small smile on her face, as Hotch goes to unlock the gun safe. 

“Sure, absolutely. Any time,” he replies with a smile. 

“I wish you would do it more often,” you squeeze beside her and Henry, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, squeezing J.J.’s hand,  “I miss you both now that I’m working at the Attorney General's.” 

“Well, Hotch makes it sound like you’re fitting in just fine—” 

“More than just fine,” Aaron says, placing his gun in his holster, as you frown at him, “you just closed a major case last week for the Attorney General’s office—” 

And J.J. raises her eyebrows, “I didn’t hear about this,” 

“Technically, I can’t talk details, but it was quite a victory,” you shrug, “but the case has been going on for years, years before I started working there.” 

“You have to give yourself more credit,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, as J.J. helps the kids finish packing up. 

“That’s what I have you for, right?” 

And the door bursts open, the sound of splitting wood and metal cracks through the relative silence. In a moment, Aaron pushes you behind him, pointing his gun, “MPD!”

“Aaron—” you whisper, but he keeps you behind him, as you look at the kids, both in J.J.’s arms, 

“I’m on the job,” Aaron’s voice stays steady, but you can feel his heart pounding through his back. 

“Drop your weapon—” 

“I’m Aaron Hotchner with the FBI,” 

“We know who you are, lower your gun,” the large barrels are pointed right at him, but you can’t move. You can’t speak, your fingers dig into his jacket. 

“Aaron—” 

“Who sent you?” he asks, and they don’t answer, only holding their guns steady as he orders Aaron again, to lower his gun. 

“Hotch—” J.J. cuts through the silence, and you glance over at Jack and Henry — Jack whose eyes are glassy, and Henry who has his face buried in his mom’s arm. 

He begins to lower his weapon, “This is a mistake.” 

“Daddy, what’s going on?” 

“It’s ok, Jack,” Aaron tells him, but its not. It’s not. 

“On your knees,” he orders, “hands behind your back.” 

“Is this really necessary?” Aaron asks, setting his gun down, holding his hands up in the air. And you know he’s not asking for himself — but for Jack. Is this necessary to do in front of his son? His son who has already lost so much. His son who has seen things he should never see. His son who doesn’t need another thing to keep him up at night. 

“Now!” he orders. 

“Daddy,” you see tears in Jack’s eyes, as he begins to cry. And anger floods your body like liquid heat, erasing any inch of fear. How dare they. How fucking dare they do this to your family. 

“What are the charges?” you ask, as Aaron does what he says, slowly getting on his knees, and placing his hands behind his back, “you haven’t told us the charges — you can’t arrest him—” 

“We have orders here that says you can—” 

“Your orders do not pre-empt the Constitution,” you cross your arms, as you step in front of him now “now I’m Aaron Hotchner’s attorney, and you won’t take him anywhere, until you tell me what the charges are.” 

Aaron says your name as a warning, “Don’t. Stay with Jack—” 

“What are the charges?” 

“He’s being charged with an attempted terrorist threat—” and you scoff, as they move to cuff him. 

“Where’s your evidence? Where’s your warrant—” and they haul Aaron to his feet in cuffs, and you nearly break when you see him look at you. 

“Daddy—” Jack cries. 

“It’s okay, Jack,” Aaron’s voice is steady, hiding the fear and the confusion, tucked away, as he looks at his son, “it’s a big mistake and everything is going to be alright,” You move to leave, “Stay with Jack.” 

You stop short, glancing at Jack, “I know, but—” 

He looks at you, a silent understanding passing. 

‘You need a lawyer.’

‘I am a lawyer.’

‘Jack needs to know you’re alright.’

‘Jack needs a parent there to tell him that.’

‘If you need me you’ll call?’

“I’ll call you if I invoke,” he promises, and you watch them pull him away, “I’ll be okay. I promise.” 

You watch a moment, before rushing to Jack’s side, you kneel, pulling him from J.J.’s arms gently, “Jack, Jack,” he hugs you, sobbing into your shoulder, “he’s going to be okay. This is a mistake. And we’re not going to stop until we find out who did this.” 

“What if—” his voice breaks, “What if—” 

“No what ifs,” you lean back, wiping the tears from his cheeks, “you know your dad is literally a superhero right? He can handle a few government goons. He was a prosecutor, he’s a bureau chief, and don’t forget how good he is at reading people. He knows what he’s doing. And I’m going to be with you, until we get him out. And he will get out. We will get him out.” you pull him to your shoulder again, glancing at J.J., “I promise.” 

~~~

“I need to know where my husband is being held,” you paced the room, glancing at Aaron’s office where J.J. was sitting with Jack and Henry, “I work for the Attorney General’s office, I graduated with honors from a very reputable law school — either you tell me, or I will have every one of my colleagues, my classmates, and every attorney I’ve worked with suing you—” and then you started hearing words you liked, “thank you for the confirmation.” 

You hang up the phone, sparing a glance at Aaron’s empty desk, your heart squeezing. He’ll be okay. You’ll get him back. 

There’s a knock at the door, and Rossi sticks his head in, and you lean against the desk, a question written on his face. 

“He’s being held by the Inspector General’s office, like I thought,” you crossed your arms, rubbing your temple, “I have a contact there, I’m going to call to see how he’s doing and where they have him. And maybe go down there, if Jack’s okay.” 

“You do what you need to,” Rossi clapped his hand to your shoulder, squeezing it, “we can hold down the fort here.” 

“I may have to go down there and see if I can get him, see if—” you feel your front crumble to pieces at the thought of Aaron in jail — being held on false charges. You knew as good as anyone how fucked the system was, how the government loved to make an example out of anyone, how completely, absolutely fucked this could get given the right circumstances— and instead of helping him, you were falling to pieces. Dave whispers your name, his lips twisted in a frown, and you shake your head, a small shaky breath escaping your lips, “What the hell is going on Dave?”

“I don’t know,” he pulls you into a hug, as you blink back tears, “but we’re going to find out.”

~~

“Hey, J.J., mind letting me have some time with Jack for a minute?” she nods, shepherding Henry down to have some time with his Uncle Reid for a bit, while you sat next to Jack, “hey buddy,” He doesn’t look up from his comic, brow thoroughly furrowed — like father like son, “you don’t have to say anything, but I found out where your dad is.” 

His eyes fly up, “Where is he?” 

“The Inspector General has him. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding—” 

“Does that mean he’s coming home now?” and your heart breaks, but this wasn’t about you — it was about Jack. 

“Not yet, but I’m going to go down there, and kick some butts to make sure he can get home to you and to us as fast as possible,” his gaze drops back to the comic panels, but you could tell he wasn’t reading it, the gears grinding in his head, “I can’t force you to tell me what’s on your mind, Jack. And I don’t want to. I want you to feel comfortable enough to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” and he stays quiet, lips perfectly pursed, “and I’m also not a mindreader, like your buddy in the comic here.” 

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips, “Spiderman can’t read minds,” 

“Doesn’t he have that spidey sense or whatever? Can’t he read minds with that?” the smile is gone as quick as it appeared, “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. And as scary as this is for me, it’s just as scary, if not scarier, for you.” 

He sighs, “Why is it always my family?” 

And your chest aches, “Jack—” 

“First it was my mom,” he whispers, “and then dad is away. He gets hurt. He’s in the hospital. And now they took him from me—” his voice breaks, a tear slipping down his cheek, “I just want everything to be okay.” 

“It will be,” you pull him into a hug, his arms looping around your middle,  “I promise, it will be. I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry,” you wipe your own tears away, “I really wish you didn’t have to see that, buddy, and I’m sorry. But I know you are just as strong as your parents are, and they are so strong. And I need you to have faith in us — the team, me — we are your family too. And we will never let anything happen to your dad or to you.” 

“Never?” he mumbles, and you run your fingers through his hair. 

“Never,” you pull away, “you trust me right?” 

“I do,” he wipes his tears away with his forearm before you hand him a tissue. 

“Me and your dad know the law backwards and forwards — and you know what your dad is? Innocent, he didn’t do a thing,” you cross your arms, “We just have to prove that — and that should be pretty easy to prove, considering what a goodie two shoes your dad is. He wouldn’t even take those extra wet naps from that restaurant we went to.” You add, a smile pulling on your lips. 

He chuckles, “He made you put them back,” and you grab a water bottle, handing it to him, he squeezes it in his hand, “when will you get him home?” 

“If you don’t mind staying here for a bit, I’m going to go down there and see if I can speak to your dad, see if I can wrangle him out of there. I’m sure your dad already has them begging for mercy. Do you mind if I go? If you need me to stay, I will.” 

“Go,” he says, before pulling you into another hug, his grip tight around your middle, “just please come back. Bring Dad back.” 

“I will, I promise,” you press a kiss to his head, “We won’t ever leave you, Jack. Not ever.” 

~~~

“I demand to see my client,” before you had taken this job at the Attorney General’s office, your law degree had been collecting dust in the back of your closet (along with Aaron’s for that matter). But after you started at the A.G.’s office, you had some time to readjust to being back into a legal setting, and you were particularly grateful for that at this moment. You were finally making progress, this was the only the third attorney you’ve spoken to — the other two which passed the buck — “I don’t have to tell you that an office charged with investigating the integrity of its officers having an ethical complaint and lawsuit thrown right back at them makes for good press coverage — and the kind of case I just love to prosecute. I have contacts at every major legal organization in the country, not least of all D.C., any of one of them would be willing to help me take this case—” 

“Excuse me—” but you continue over him. 

“And you will be buried, and I mean buried — until your entire office will have to resign in disgrace for violating one of the most vital tenets of the U.S. Constitution — the sixth amendment.” 

“He hasn’t invoked,” 

“And yet I asserted myself as his attorney in front of the armed SWAT team you sent to arrest a highly esteemed bureau chief of the FBI in front of another FBI agent and two small children, one of which was his,” you raise a single eyebrow, “do you really argue semantics with me right now? I want to see him. Otherwise, we can argue semantics in front of a trier of fact.” 

The attorney stares at you, gritted teeth and clenched jaw. And you smile. 

“What are you doing?” the door bursts open and you walk in, “This is—” 

“This is a violation of my client’s basic constitutional rights,” you walk to Aaron’s side, squeezing his shoulder, “tell me, what was the probable cause you had to even start investigating him in the first place?” 

“It was Scratch,” Hotch says, “he said—” 

“This is a confidential—” 

“You seized my client on the word of a psychopath,” you give a terse chuckle, “you violated his fourth amendment right to privacy, his sixth amendment right to attorney, his fifth amendment right to procedural due process—” 

“That’s not important right now,” Aaron says your name, “there’s a prison break happening. The team.” 

Shit. You checked your phone — twelve missed calls and so many messages from Garcia, “We need to leave here immediately.” 

“He is not—” 

“Should I actually start mentally preparing that report for the subcommittee?” and you cross your arms as well, raising an eyebrow. 

“Maybe I’ll join him and start preparing a complaint to file against your entire office and specifically you,” and you see him pale further, his brow furrowed in a scowl, “Your name was again?” 

~~~

You don’t touch him until you leave that horrible office. But once you’re both through the double doors, the pretense of professionalism drops and he pulls you immediately to him, burying your face in his chest, “I was—” 

“I know,” he breathes back, his face buried in the crook of your neck, “I was—” 

“I know,” you smile, leaning back to cup his cheek, “Jack is at the BAU, I should get back. And you—” 

“I have to go,” and you chuckle, “but you knew that already.” 

“There are very few things I don’t know about you, Aaron Hotchner,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, "but everyday I look forward to learning some of them." 

He kisses you again, full mouthed and sweet, as if he was trying to show you just how much he loved you — how much he did that he could never truly express in words. 

"You'll tell Jack?" 

You kiss him one last time, running your thumb across the ridge of his cheekbone, "Promise."

~~~~ 

Aaron enters  , breathless, as if every breath he had taken from the moment he was arrested he released the moment he saw Jack. You hang back in the doorway as J.J. grabs Henry, “Hey,” 

Jack doesn’t look up from his drawing, continuing to color, the scratching of the color pencil filling the silence of the office, “Hey.” 

Aaron purses his lips, “What are you doing?” 

“Drawing,” Jack responds tersely, and you frown, leaning against the door, holding your tongue. This was between them. It wasn’t your place. 

“Can I take a look?” And Jack sets down his color pencil, flipping over the drawing decisively. 

“No,” he replied, before tucking it away in his binder. And you didn’t need to see Aaron’s face to know he was hurt — or what was worse, thinking he deserved it, “are you okay?” 

You bit back a chuckle, despite everything, he was still his father’s son, and his mother’s for that matter, “Yeah, I’m ok. How about you?” 

Jack looks up a moment, putting his things away, an inscrutable emotion flickering across his face, “I’m fine.” 

“You ready to go?” 

“Yeah,” Jack slings on his backpack, dejected, as he slips past his father without even a glance. Aaron watches him leave, his gaze cast downward, and Jack slips past you, Aaron following. You grab his hand, pulling him back a moment. 

You glance at Jack and back at him, and he shakes his head, “I’m fine.” 

~~~

It wasn’t fine. 

And all three of you knew that. On the car ride home, you spent it in relative silence, exchanging looks with Aaron, mouthing in silent conversation. 

‘You should talk to him.’

‘I will when we get home.’ 

‘Do you want me to be there?’ 

‘Always, Jack needs you too—’

 “I know you’re talking about me,” Jack speaks up from behind. 

You turn around, Aaron’s eyes flickering to the rear view mirror — caught in the act, “what do you mean, bud?” 

“I’m not stupid, I can tell when you two are talking about me,” Jack crosses his arms, his backpack by his side. 

“Jack,” Aaron chides gently, “we talked about language—” 

Jack huffs, his voice rising, “Dad, you were arrested today—” 

“Let’s talk about this when we get home?” you interrupt, looking between father and son, “Okay?” 

God. You were only looking forward to the teenage years after this. 

~~~

“Jack, a man I arrested framed me today,” Jack sat beside Aaron, while you sat across from them, “that’s why I was arrested. He was trying to cover up something else he was trying to do. Something bigger,” Jack doesn’t say anything, only staring downward, “But I’m okay. I’m sorry you had to see that, buddy. I didn’t want you to. I’m so—” 

“Why didn’t you come back?” Jack peers up at him, as Aaron blinks, “why didn’t you come see me right after you got out?” 

“Jack, I came—” 

“You always have to go to work. You always leave. I was worried, Dad,” his voice broke, as his father pulled him into his arms, “And you got out, but you didn’t come see me.” 

“Jack, people needed help, I’m—” 

“I needed you, Daddy,” Jack fists his hands in Aaron’s shirt, “I need you.” 

Aaron breaks in that moment, tears slipping down his cheeks, shaking his head, “I know, I know,” he wraps his arms around him, tugging him close, he presses a kiss to the top of his head, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jack. I should’ve come to see you first before going. I didn’t think. I should have thought about you first. I love you. I love you more than anything.” 

“But your dad did send me to check on you,” you piped up, walking over and sliding beside Jack,  “you were the first thing on his mind when he got out, Jack, even with everything else going on. Even when he went to help the team, he was thinking about going home to you. He always is. Every case.” and his glassy eyes meet yours, before you add, “He should have come, you’re right, but he loves you, so much.” you brushed his hand, and he intertwined his smaller fingers with yours, “and I do too.” 

He sniffs, “Did you kick a lot of butts to get Dad out?” 

Aaron chuckles, and you grin, blinking back tears, “I sure did. I might be hearing from several other people’s lawyers who might be suing me for emotional distress — but I was mad. No one likes it when I’m mad.” 

“We know,” Jack and Aaron said together, and you huffed, open mouthed. 

“I’m not that bad!” 

“Debatable,” He shrugs. 

“I guess I’ll see you in court,” before clapping Jack on the arm, “come on, go get ready for bed, and I’ll tell you about all the yelling I did today to get your dad out—” Aaron raises his eyebrows, “what? I won’t work blue — it’ll be kid appropriate.” 

“I’d like to hear this myself,” He gives Jack a kiss, “I’ll see in a few, buddy. I love you.” 

Jack pauses, before hugging his dad again, arms thrown around his shoulders, “I love you too, Dad.” 

He throws his arms around you too, his tiny arms squeezing around your neck,  “I love you too,” he mumbles, before scurrying off without another word. 

You both watch him run off to his bedroom to get ready for bed, as Aaron slumps against the couch, slinging his arm over your shoulders, “I think we could all use a vacation after this,” you run your fingers through his hair, “don’t you think?” 

“Somewhere without cellphones,” and you scoff. 

“Maybe for you, I can use technology without someone calling me to work,” you lay against his shoulder, looking up at him, “I’m still going to sue you though,” and he chuckles, a smile on his lips, you cross your arms, closing your eyes, “and I won’t hesitate to bring up all the times I saved your butt by the way.” 

“Past acts don’t--” 

“This isn’t civil court — I’m going to file a criminal complaint. I do know the D.C. District attorney after all,” his fingers tilt your chin upwards, warm touch making your eyes open to find him staring at you, his love so easily and clearly written there that it makes you smile, “past acts contribute to pattern, remember?” 

“What are the charges?” he breaths, leaning closer, noses bumping, lips only brushing as you can’t stop smiling long enough to kiss him. 

“Theft,” you murmurs, as his lips finally meet yours, your fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his neck, “you stole my heart after all.” 

He hums, as his teeth graze your bottom lip,  “Are you this corny in court?” 

“Shut up,” you murmur, fingers brushing his jaw, “do I need to remind you who saved your ass today?” 

A frown pulls at his lips, pulling away a moment, “Thank you,” 

“You don’t have—” he shakes his head, bringing your knuckles to his lips. 

“Not just for that,” he kisses each one, “for everything.” 

And you smile, before tugging him close again, “I meant what I almost said — you don’t need to thank me for that,” your lips find his again, smiling against him, “but you’re welcome.” 

~~~

“Is this your card?” Spencer pulls the card from Penelope’s hair, Henry and Jack gaping at him, wide grins across their faces. 

“How did you do that?” Garcia squeals, gaping at Spencer. 

“How did you do that?” you repeat, tone flat and brow furrowed. 

“There’s always a skeptic,” Reid says, shuffling his cards. 

“You’re the skeptic. You are quite literally always one,” you cross your arms, glaring at him, “how did you do that?” 

You and Spencer continue to bicker, as Aaron watches, shaking his head, “I had a hard time putting both boys down last night,” 

“They couldn’t sleep,” J.J. gives a short chuckle, shaking her head. 

“Other way around,” her gaze turning back to the boys, “I didn’t want to leave them.” 

“How are things on your end?” Aaron sighs, shaking his head. It had been some time since that day, but Jack was having nightmares still. There had been multiple days where he crawled into bed with you and him. It wasn’t like it was any better for him — Aaron kept having dreams about the gunmen at his door, Scratch, whatever other nightmare waiting for him. He was afraid. 

Like anyone would be. 

“You know, fortunately Jack doesn’t remember a lot about Haley’s death. He knows the story,” he adds, the memory a weight on his chest, recounting to his son about how his mother died protecting him, and she died because of his job, the job he kept, “But he was young.” 

“That’s a good thing,”

“That’s a very good thing,” he affirms, flashes of the other day still fresh in his mind, the tears in Jack’s eyes, the fear — the same fear that will stay with him, “But he’s not going to forget seeing me at gunpoint. I just don’t want this job to take anything else away from him.” 

He already had lost enough. Too much. More than he ever deserved to. More than he ever wanted his son to lose. 

“Well, maybe it gives him something too,” he meets J.J.’s gaze, a wide smile on her lips, “You’re his hero. Not a pretend hero, a real hero.” 

And he thought of the other night, I needed you, Dad. “Well he’s growing up. He’s not going to feel that way for too much longer,” a smile tugs at his lips as he watches him with Reid. 

“Nah, you can worry about that later,” J.J. adds, “Just be his dad. Enjoy that,” He watches Jack and Henry hide behind you as Reid pelts you with streamers, “they are great together aren’t they?” 

“Really great,” he smiles softly, before excusing himself to walk over to you, laughing at Reid’s antics, his hand easily finding yours, “Hi.” 

“Hi, did you see—” He presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet and smooth, your eyelids flutter, lips parted, “What was that for?” 

He pulls you aside slyly, fingers intertwined as he tugged you along, “I didn’t thank you for everything you’ve done,” 

“You already did, Aaron,” you wave him off, but he shakes his head. 

“I love you so much, and you were so strong, for me, for Jack,” he wraps his arms around your waist, “I can’t ever thank you enough for that.” 

“I love both my Hotchner men more than anything — you don’t need thank me,” you press chaste kiss to his lips, tasting the alcohol on his lips, you hold up your hand, shiny band barely glinting in the low light, “that’s why we have these don’t we? Wouldn’t have married a grandpa if I didn’t love him,” he tilts his head, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “and I always will.” 

“Promise?” he asks, pressing his forehead against yours, your breath warming his lips, as he tugs you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. And for once, he felt like this was a promise that would be kept without question. 

“Promise.” 

~~

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