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cheapshrimpysheep · 10 months

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You Will Stop the Wedding! - Jamil Viper

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

CHARACTERS: Jamil Viper x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: 1.260 words

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim

COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.

Jamil was not present at the Housewarden's meeting, since he isn't one. But it didn't take long for Kalim to tell him, especially because he was panicking. He starts saying loose sentences about ghosts, kidnapping, marriage and especially your name. Jamil gets very serious and asks Kalim to stop for a few seconds, calm down a little and explain things clearly. And if that doesn't work, he has a plan B: ask one of the other Housewardens. Riddle would be an excellent choice.

After fully understanding what is happening, he himself panics for a moment. But then he clears his throat and calms himself down. He asks, no, he orders Kalim to stay safe in Scarabia while he joins the others in the rescue groups. When Kalim tries to convince Jamil to let him help them, Jamil gets straight to the point and says it's dangerous, both for him and for you. Does he really want to risk ruining everything? It's your life that's at stake here! Jamil was being harsher than usual, but Kalim knew why, and promised that he would stay in Scarabia hoping that everything would go well. He would behave well for Jamil and for you.

However Jamil is too cautious to simply believe him. So most likely, without Kalim noticing, Jamil will put him to sleep or something with some spell or with his Snake Wisper. You know, just in case.

Jamil asked to be in the last group. A little like Azul, he is the type to first analyse all angles of the situation before forming a more appropriate plan.

When it's the last group's turn, whenever someone needs to stay behind to tie up the ghosts, Jamil tells one of the others to do it. He always managed to show himself as a good strategist and someone who conveys the confidence of a leader, so the others just followed this order without questioning much. His behavior showed that he seemed to have a plan in place. He ends up being the only one to arrive at the ceremony hall.

He could follow the plan, but he knew himself well in this regard. He is good at hiding his true feelings, but he is not good at showing feelings that are antagonistic to his true ones. The princess would definitely notice this as she noticed some of the others' strategies. For these reasons he had a plan B, but still wanted to try the original plan.

“Your majesty, you must stop this wedding. You are taking with you someone who doesn't want to be with you. If you don't marry someone who loves you back, both of your lives... afterlives? will be miserable. And that's why I'm here. Please accept me as your husband and I promise to do everything in my power to make your afterlife wonderful.” Everything was going well, until he proposed to her husband.

The princess said out loud the same thing that you also noticed. In these sentences his emotion almost disappeared, showing that he was lying. And she accused him of trying to deceive her.

Jamil sighed. He was now forced to follow plan B, which he never really likes to follow. Be honest.“You are correct, your majesty. I was lying. But-” Before he could continue speaking the princess ordered the guards to catch him. And he had a plan for that too.

He managed to dodge all the ghost guards and was heading towards the altar where you and the princess were. But one thing wasn't part of his plan: One of the guards turning into a giant ghost. Obviously he still tried to fight and did his best, but he still lost against the guard. As soon as the guard caught him, the princess wasted no time in slapping him, she didn't want to hear his excuses.

However, Jamil remained able to move. Everyone gasps, including the princess. When the guards ask what's going on, the princess says it can only mean one thing. The thing is that her slap is capable of petrifying anyone, except those who have already found their true love. The reaction from all NRC students is like "What the F-?!" And Jamil’s reaction was to lower his head to try to make his hair hide his face.

Then he lifted it again, with an upset and slightly obscured expression on his face. He really hated exposing himself like that, but at that moment, it was his last shot to save you. “Do you want the truth? I'm here for someone, yes, but not for you. I'm here for the person you kidnapped to force to be your partner.” She starts to say that she didn't kidnap or force anyone. “Your delusion disgusts me.” The guard shakes him, threatening him not to insult the princess.

But now the princess is interested. He was there for you? So why did he ask to marry her? “Because we had a plan.” Jamil admits, as if he's had enough and just wants to resolve everything once and for all. “Making you accept one of us as a husband to put a ring on your finger that would send you to the afterlife.” The princess is offended and feels attacked by that. And while she and the guard start to say how outrageous that is, Jamil looks at the princess again, but this time with a condescending look.

“If you're going to take someone with you, take me then. Let (Y/N) go. Let me go in their place. From a young age I learned that part of my job would be to be willing to give my life for someone. Let me give my life for someone I lo... care about, then.” He couldn't fake something like this that well.

And, out of nowhere, the princess started to feel sorry for herself and jealous of you. Having someone willing to give their life for you like that. This was the greatest proof of love anyone could give. How she wished she had someone like that for herself too. And this was the opportunity that the guard who was in love with her found to declare himself and say that he would give his life for her, after all, technically, he had already done so. And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.

As soon as the guard releases Jamil, he runs to you. “Are you well? Are you hurt?” You were petrified, but shortly afterwards you could move again. Jamil never left your side until the ghosts left.

After everything and while the first-years were getting ready to tidy up and clean the cafeteria, you asked Jamil to wait a bit. You leave the room so you can talk alone. He couldn't look at you, and he was trying to hide his face with his hands or his hair. He had practically already declared himself to you during all that madness. So you decide it's your turn to tell him that you feel the same way about him. He looks at you in surprise and you can see how flattered he was.

Knowing now that your feelings were mutual, he becomes kind of smug. “Does that mean you would give your life for me too? That you would serve me if necessary? *chuckle* Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. Unless you don't mind.” You say you would, at least, kiss him right there and then. He holds you by the waist. “Be my guest.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Ghost Marriage #The Phantom Bride: Love at First Fright #Jamil Viper #Jamil Viper x Reader #Jamil x Reader

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nelkcats · 1 year

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Fenton Street Food

"You know what's better than being a superhero? A street food vendor! Yes, superheroes can save the day, stop villains and receive hatred or admiration as the case may be, but a street vendor? They are at the heart of the action, fulfilling their dreams! They traveled the world feeding the masses, and even met superheroes, feeding them to keep them doing their duty, food carts are the centerpiece of keeping the heroes alive, they are the heroes..."

Maybe if Danny repeated it enough times he'd start to believe it, though seeing the monstrosity that was the Fenton food cart he highly doubted it. More so because it had fucking guns hidden next to the mutant and very alive Hot dogs (which by the way were not sellable, they were the mascots of the brand).

It all started when Jack Fenton talked about his dream of delivering his favorite food around the world, that fueled Maddie Fenton's idea, and since Jazz was in college and Danny was on vacation no one could stop them.

Soon Danny became a victim of his parents' eccentricities. Although the halfa had to admit that selling in Gotham was a lot of fun, thieves didn't think it was worth mugging him and the Rogues themselves bought his food of dubious origins.

It was almost a shame to have to change cities because Batman was getting too suspicious but Metropolis was waiting for him. And he would be back eventually; some bats who had enjoyed his strange roving food stall had waved him off with handkerchiefs, wiping away fake tears. Danny appreciated it.

Besides, Red Robin affirmed to him that he would recommend him to Superboy, so he wouldn't run out of customers anytime soon. He wondered if he should stop by Central City, the Flash Family ate a lot didn't they?

#dpxdc #The Fentons create another dubious business #Danny is the victim #technically Danny is a good chef #he learned from Jazz to cook as well as possible with the little they had available #which was very useful to survive at the Fenton house #And apparently it's also useful for being the face of the Fenton food cart #His parents tried to help at first but he kicked them out and took over the car #Danny didn't want dead customers #the Fenton food cart travels all over the world #offering food at low prices #dp x dc #dc x dp #Danny wonders what he's doing with his life at this point #his parents got bored of the food cart and left him alone while they went back to the lab #Danny doesn't know whether to be grateful or cry in frustration #maybe he will do both

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directdogman · 2 months

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Dogman, how do you write SO WELL!?!? I love all your characters and I need to know what/where you find inspo from...

Ha. Every writer is just someone who apes the creative processes of their inspirations. For video game writing specifically, there's two answers for me.

Toby Fox is always gonna be a huge inspiration for me. I've written plots and characters before and had to abandon ideas after realizing I'd accidentally written part of UT again. Even some of the ideas I used were undeniably inspired by UT in a subconscious way and ofc, I included several explicit references to UT in my last series. Toby's a very clever guy who likely pays very close attention to the art he consumes and tries to figure out how to maximize how much his work connects with his audience. Whatever his process is, it works.

The other answer is a lil funnier: Scott Cawthon, but specifically the legend, not the man. For context: Back in the earlier days of the FNaF fandom, people had a hyper-inflated view of Scott Cawthon's writing skills that largely came from how little of a presence he had back in those days. In the vacuum of Scott actually explaining his own process in detail, people got caught up in his genuinely creative way of hiding exposition in his games using cryptid and (then) unexpected methods, and a narrative formed (one that he's since refuted.)

While he never implied it tmk, fans broadly believed that he constructed these sweeping and complex narratives with tons of cohesive moving parts, with the games essentially acting like the mere tip of his lore iceberg. People even thought he wrote so much that he had whole games worth of lore outlined from the beginning! In the first Dawko interview he gave, he clarified that this wasn't the case and explained roughly what his process was (basically just outlining rough theme ideas + aesthetics for future titles.)

However, that legend made younger-me's mind run wild and any time I wrote a story, it became very difficult for me to not keep writing down ideas while completing the grunt work that followed me finishing my scripts. When I finished DSaF 1, I already had DSaF 2's draft written and by the time 2 was done, I had enough lore for a 3rd game on paper (and a lot more stuff that I didn't use.) By the time three was out, I had pages upon pages of unused concepts/story ideas and more or less just had to decide to call it quits or else I'd be pumping out entries forever!

That's why if you go back to those older games, there's references that directly refer to future plot-points in pretty casual/easy to miss ways. (Like Henry's mention in DSaF 1, Dave being heartless in DSaF 2, Jack being soulless in 1, and even Blackjack being Jack's soul in 2. Most of 3's major plotpoints are implied somewhere in 2 and some of 2's in 1.)

DT is much the same. By the time I finished writing it, I had fairly detailed drafts for arcs for each of the characters, some early material ended up getting completely recontextualized (and even modified in small ways to not conflict with the wider ideas I came up with.)

I get really into writing my stories/characters and I always wonder exactly how things ended up where they are, what characters think about but don't say, etc etc. This is why I have an obscene amount of Crown lore that I have very little to do with rn (since he impacted the whole world so deeply.)

This extra stuff also includes plenty of sequel material ideas, though I didn't think I'd even get a chance to use them since DT performed pretty meagerly before the big release and I was expecting to have to move onto something new. Though it turned out that Scott didn't actually write his games this way (by his own admission), it's the correct answer for what my core writing inspiration for writing game narratives is.

Hope this helps!

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rhey-007 · 1 year

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*+:｡.｡ 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝕸𝖆𝖟𝖊 ｡.｡:+*

FP Jones x reader | 18+ SMUT

Summary: after saving your brothers ass from serpents, you get a pleasant surprise from FP

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (f receiving), slight age gap (reader is 20, FP in his late 20's), outdoors sex

Author's note: it's my first time writing smut 🫣 so I apologise in advance (just in case) 😅 enjoy!

It was 31st October 1995, Halloween.

Your first Halloween as an adult.

Your father was a farmer known for his halloween corn mazes so it was obvious that you would help him prepare it for halloween. You would go inside and place various decorations, starting from jack-o'-lanters through scarecrows, finishing at bedsheet ghosts. That was a standard, but this year you also decided to hire your friends to dress up as monsters, hide in the corn and scare people. Of course you weren't an exception either. You dressed up as a blood thirsty nun that greeted children, teens and adults by the entrance, and later joined your friends inside the maze, while your father sold the tickets dressed as a murderous clown.

You found scaring people fun, especially the kids. But your enjoyment came to an end later that evening when you had to come back to the reception and replace your father for a while. That's when a scarecrow like creature came running in your direction. Though it didn't take you long to figure out it was your older brother Ben, who must have gotten himself in some shit again, followed by a couple of furious serpents.

You didn't say a word, just shook your head disapprovingly and shoved Ben into the maze. As you later found out, your brother angried the serpents by stealing from them, it wasn't a lot but you knew each gram of heroin was worth the anger. Ben quickly left but managed to shout you a short thanks and sorry.

Now you just had to deal with the serpents...

When they made their way to you, you would finally see who it actually was, and of course it couldn't be anyone esle than Forsythe Pendleton Jones II with his two sidekicks. In that moment you knew you'll have a hard job to do. You didn't know FP personally, but you heard a lot about him, mostly bad things, and you started to worry you wouldn't be able to handle them.

''What do you want here FP''

You stood in front of the gateway and looked the man up and down, just as he did to you.

''Move. Kid.''

He hissed, but you just furrowed your brows and crossed your arms. No one's gonna call you a kid, especially not that douchebag. You stood there in silence for a while, neither of you planning on moving, so you finally spoke up.

''I don't care what he did, but I'm sure you're not pleased with that. But instead of chasing him and trying to beat his ass maybe you should try to think of a way to prevent more situations like that, huh? ... Oh wait! You can't, you're too dumb''

You smiled at him sweetly after your short speech. FP curled his hands into fists angrily, a vein about to pop on his forehead. He had enough of the bratty girl so he just shoved her to the ground and run into the maze. The girl took too much of their time already.

After getting up from the ground and dusting yourself off, you looked at your watch wondering how much time it would take the three to come back. In fact it didn't take them a lot as just after few turns they were lost. Good thing one of them memorised the way, so they came back the same way they went it. You smirked triumphally seeing three slumped figures leave the maze, you knew well they wouldn't make it far.

At night you sneaked into Ben's room to retrieve the stolen goods, you couldn't let him take it after all.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨��˚ 🎃 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next day was time to clean the maze and gather the corn. You and your best friend Ashley cleaned it from the early hours of the day and just by accident FP knew about it. In reality he met one of your friends he's seen you once with in the town and forced that information out of him. He came to the attraction early enough to already find you inside. The man sneaked in without Ashley noticing and found you quite qickly as you weren't far away.

''You already finished Ashley?''

You asked as you heard someone move behind you, but you couldn't care enought to turn around. Well... not until you heared his voice.

''It ain't her''

He said as he came closer to you. You gulped softly not expecting to see FP there.

''The attraction is closed, come back next year''

You huffed, trying to stay calm and not show the slight fear that boiled inside of you. Why you were so scared suddenly? Because you had nothing to defend yourself with and the look in his eyes made you feel uneasy. FP looked at you as a predator would look at his prey. He moved closer and closer until he had you squished in a corner.

''If the attracion is closed then why are you still here, sugar?''

The nickname made you feel sick, which you couldn't say about his cologne that weirdly calmed you down. FP put his hands on your hips and squeezed them gently.

''Not a lot of people stand up against me... Yet you...''

He licked his lips while looking down at you.

''You did it without a second thought just to defend your stupid brother. And you know what?... That turns me on''

FP didn't even give you a chance to say something before he smashed his lips on yours. You had to admit you were pleasantly surprised, which sounds weird considering the fact that you didn't even know him. But he was handsome... really handsome, and you always had a thing for him that you never admited out loud, even though he was older than you and it felt a little inappropriate. So when he kissed you, it just took you a few second to kiss him back, which surely satisfied and exctied the older man.

You pulled away when you felt breathless and looked down not wanting to make eye contact with FP, a dark blush appearing on your pale face.

„You've just kissed me as if your life depended on it and now you're all shy?"

The man mocked, his hand reaching up to capture your chin and lift it up so you would look back at him, a wicked smirk was painted on his face. It really suited him. Soon FP's hand wandered back to your hip to then grab your ass. You squeaked when he picked you up, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck. He put you down on hay bales stacked together then started his unholy ministrations on your neck, earning quiet moans from you every now and then. If that wasn't enough, one of his hands rubbed your thigh up and down, each time coming closer to your aching core, while the other creeped under your shirt, slowly making it's way to your breasts.

„Fp... „

You moaned out, your hands gripping his mucled arm and burgundy T-shirt. The man took it as a sing to proceed further, his hand slipped under your bra and started to massage your breast. Your palm slid down his clothed torso to meet his semi hard member and grip it gently. He groaned into your ear when you did that and bit it softly then captured your lips into another, more aggressive but still passionate kiss.

„God dammit sweetheart... „

FP couldn’t wait anymore, he unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down then did the same to your shorts and panties. You looked down, your mouth in slight agape. He was huge, at least he seemed like it, you didn’t think you'd be able to take him all but you were wrong. With one swift thrust he was balls deep inside of you. A juicy moan escaped your lips which made FP slam his hand on top of them.

„Shh... We don't want anyone to find out, do we?"

He whispered and tilted his head softly. You just nodded obediently and let him fuck you. His hips moved with an agonizing yet sweetly pleasuring pace. You never thought sex could be that good, and it wasn't your first time.

„Shit... Ya feel so good... „

He groaned out. His palm moved from your lips to your neck to grip it softly, your own hand quickly following it signaling your worry about the act.

„Don't worry... Don't wanna loose such great pussy so quickly... "

The man breathed out between grunts. You decided to trust him so you moved your hands to his cheeks to pull his face down for a kiss. In meanwhile FP started to circle his thumb on your clit, giving you even more pleasure and almost immediately making you reach your orgasm. He groaned dissatisfied into your lips and mumbled.

„Thought you'll last longer... Now you gotta gimmie another one sugar...”

He sped up his movement both on your clit and inside of you.

„I... I-I can't take it... Anymore... "

You've managed to say between moans, but it didn't seem to affect the man in any way, he just kept fucking you relentlessly.

„You on the pill? „

He asked suddenly when he felt the two of you were about to finish. You just nodded and soon another wave of pleasure hit you alongside the warmth of FP's seed spilling out inside of you. You both breathed heavily, neither of you going to say anything, just indulging in pleasure and silence. Soon FP pulled his member out of you, his semen slowly spilling out.

„Look at you...”

The man smirked triumphantly after tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants back up.

„Wouldn’t thought Ben's sister's pussy could be that good of a fuck”

You just rolled your eyes, you were kind of annoyed that you've let him fuck you but also really satisfied. You cleaned yourself with a tissue then put your underwear and shorts on.

"And I wanted to give you this back"

You said as you wiggled the bag of heroin in front of his face and shook your head with a smirk. FP smiled back at you and snatched the bag away to then hide it in the pocket of his jacket.

„When's next session? ”

You soon blurted out earning a little confused look from FP at first but his expression changed rather fast, as now he was smiling from ear to ear.

„I'll pick you up at 7. Now lemme help you get this maze cleaned”

After a some time, what seemed like a few quickies and fuck sessions turned into something more.

#fp jones x reader #fp jones #riverdale fp jones #riverdale #riverdale smut #smut #18+ fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #halloween

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cloudcountry · 1 year

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nrc students reading aloud

SUMMARY: Pick your favorite NRC boy(s) and have them read out loud to you! What could go wrong?

CHARACTERS: All NRC Students.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: i was working on this for a while and ultimately decided to just publish all of them together since i finished them all!! i've been yearning for azul to read to me because im really tired so here we are. also hey epel you want to read to me in your country accent hahah???? hahahaa.a......asking for a friend lol......................haha.

Heartslabyul

Riddle reads it all perfectly. I don’t know what you were expecting, but his mother probably drilled reading out loud into his head. Also, he’s amazing at public speaking and probably didn’t fumble once. He’ll be as rigid as a board so if you want to rest your head on him good luck.

Trey is much more entertaining. He makes funny voices to go along with the characters and sometimes he’ll throw in hand gestures. He’ll let you rest your head on his shoulder and snuggle as close to him as you want. He doesn’t stumble either, but it’s because he’s so used to reading bedtime stories to his siblings.

Cater thinks he’s got it but he ends up stumbling occasionally. He’s not horrible, but you can see his face turning pink when he tries to pronounce something and fails. He’ll also let you rest on his shoulder, but his voice is so nice to listen to that you might fall asleep (he wouldn’t mind.)

Deuce is so precious but there’s no way he’d be able to read out loud. He’s shaking at the mere mention of it, even though it’s only you. His face is beet red after a few seconds, the occasion “uh-” or “um-” breaking the sentences. He’ll get even more nervous if you lay your head on his shoulder, sweating nervously at your close proximity and mind blanking. Was he reading? What book is this? is it upside down? Help!

Ace is another one who thinks he’s got it. He does moderately okay, except for the fact that whenever he doesn’t know how to pronounce a word he purposefully says it in the most incorrect way possible. He’ll also make funny voices, but his are so outlandish and disturbing that your laughter will slowly turn into crying. Don’t rest your head on his shoulder, he’ll do the opposite of Deuce and tease the heck out of you.

Savanaclaw

Leona refuses. If you beg, he may read you one sentence. It’s just not worth it to him, plus he knows you’re trying to embarrass him. You could read to him though, he says, because your voice is soothing. He’ll keep going until you’re so flustered you stop bothering him.

Ruggie is going to tease you. There’s no getting around it. He’ll ask if you want him to read you bedtime stories, but the second you pull out a snack for you two to share he’s sitting down and grabbing the book. He insists that you feed him, since he can’t possibly eat the food when he’s holding the book, and uses the break you two take to eat together to add commentary to the stories. It’s very much a “character a was so stupid what was that” discussion.

Jack is really sweet, so he’d agree immediately. Quietly mumbles to himself under his breath when he doesn’t know how to pronounce a word because he doesn’t want to disturb you by asking what it means. If you end up falling asleep he’s going to wake you up as gently as possible, and now he’s concerned about your sleep schedule.

Octavinelle

Azul will not read to you for free unless it’s lesson materials. Lucky for you, you two regularly study together. He’s going to turn bright red if he messes up a single word, so be patient with him if he suddenly goes quiet. He’d prefer if you read some parts to him too, and may wordlessly push the book towards you if that’s the case. Thankfully, he rarely messes up so you won’t have to deal with your study buddy running out of the Lounge.

Jade wouldn’t mess it up. Ever. It makes you wonder if there’s anything this man can’t do (besides handle heights during flight lessons, not take a picture of every mushroom he sees, etc.) He’ll be flattered by your praise, brushing you off with his normal demeanor. He will let you rest on his shoulder, and if he likes you enough he’ll rest on you as well.

Floyd is almost impossible to make read. If you ask him that at all, he’s likely to throw the book and say he doesn’t want to if he’s in a sour mood. If you catch him in a good mood, he’ll refuse if he thinks it’s not interesting. You have to find the right book and get him on the right day, and even then you wouldn’t be able to rest on his shoulder because he’d squeal and squeeze the heck out of you.

Scarabia

Kalim would be wonderful at reading aloud. He has a nice voice and is naturally entertaining, so you can count on character voices and hand gestures. He’ll look up from the book sometimes to see if you’re enjoying it. He’d totally let you rest on his shoulder too, clacking it up to you just being tired and needing a break from everything. He’s happy to be your sanctuary!

Jamil also wouldn’t mess up a single word. His voice is so nice too, if you fall asleep I wouldn’t blame you. He’ll let you rest on his shoulder, but he acts like you’re not even there. He’s focused on the reading while subconsciously acknowledging your presence, which is nothing new to you.

Pomfiore

Vil doesn’t know why you want to hear him read a story of all things, but he will not refuse. He reads a bit slowly, but his voice makes every word sound beautiful. You suppose it’s to be expected, since Vil constantly conducts himself with pure beauty in mind. He’ll let you rest on his shoulder for a bit, but will wake you up if you fall asleep.

Rook would much rather listen to you read, but who is he to deny your request! The words that fly from his mouth are nothing short of dramatic. He makes everything sound like poetry, and it’s like the writing is swirling around you like a tornado. It’s amazing how Rook can see the beauty in everything, and share that view with you just by speaking.

Epel immediately thinks about Vil and what he told Epel to do about his accent. Epel tries his best to tone it down, and he really doesn't want to get yelled at by Vil again over reading something to you. But when you confess that the entire reason you want Epel to read to you is so you can hear his accent, he flushes. Fine, he thinks, he’ll do it for you. And he does. Hesitantly at first, but slowly getting more confident, he slips into the sound of his voice that says apples and strength and hard work, instead of using the one forced upon him by a man who wanted to turn him into something he didn’t want to be.

Ignihyde

Idia is going to have a heart attack. He’ll type the story to you in a text to speech thingy if you want to hear it so bad! Idia lovers already knew how this one was going to turn out…you are not getting him to read out loud. And if, on the off chance, you did, he’d throw the book and hide away in his room for weeks if he got one word wrong.

Ortho is a sweetheart and would read to you without hesitation. Well, maybe with a little bit of hesitation because he doesn’t quite understand why you want him to read it out loud. Once you explain your reasoning, no matter whether it's logical or emotional, Ortho will nod in understanding and begin reading. It’s weirdly soothing, while also being a bit unnerving because he doesn’t mess up a single word. He won’t let you rest on his shoulder though, because he knows it’ll be uncomfortable and you may get a neck cramp!

Diasomnia

Malleus takes your request seriously. You want him to read to you? He’s visiting late as per usual, so he might as well help you to bed, right? He tucks you in and pats your head, making sure Grim is comfortable too. Then he stands right above you and begins to read, his voice so monotone you'd think you were a lecture. It’s not boring, it’s quite the opposite, and both you and Grim sleep very well because of it.

Lilia is used to reading bedtime stories since he’s adopted like three children, so he’s got the funny voices and hand gestures down. If you want to rest on him for a little while, he’ll rest you. If you’re good he may even give you One (1) Single Headpat. But only if you listen to his story all the way through and don’t fall asleep!

Sebek loves to read. He thinks you made the right choice, coming to someone like him to read you something. His voice is very intense as he’s reading, proof of how focused he is on the material. He doesn’t mess up once, and his tone is as dynamic as the writing itself. You hear it when he gets angry or when he’s beginning to get excited, and it’s the most wholesome thing you’ll probably ever get out of him.

Silver will try for you. He really will. He’ll probably fall asleep on your shoulder in the middle of reading to you. If you fall asleep before him, you’ll wake up with his jacket draped over you. If you fall asleep after, you can just use him as a pillow. He won’t complain. He’s probably doing the same anyway.

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a-pups-writing · 26 days

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Hi beautifullll💋🩷 got super excited when I saw ur ok with writing suicide, so can I ask for twst headcanons with first years + riddle when they learn that reader(gn) had a failed suicide attempt at ramshackle? Platonic or romantic, though I don't think it would matter much in this particular scenario. Thanks in advance, love ur writing💖

A/N; love this, and thank you for the kind words dear pink princess. No specification on what kind of suicide, so I'm going with an OD (overdose) hope that's okay. Also I have faves, I think its noticeable..

P.S.: if you ever deal with suicidal thoughts, you can and deserve to get help! Either from friends or a specialist, as someone who has the same problems it may feel like there isn't another out but there is. Life can be worth living. <3

CW; GN!reader, angst/fluff, suicide/mental health themes, some Sanders vibes(??)

Chars.; Riddle Rosehearts, Ace Trappola/Deuce (??), Epel Felmier, Jack Howl

Riddle Rosehearts; Romantic

first thinks its a joke, albeit not a very funny one, when he's told you're in the infirmary from an apparent overdose. He even collars those who told him, unable to believe such lies and rumors.

still, he goes to the infirmary, just to see if there's any proof of you..having done something, maybe you just hurt yourself accidentally- his heart almost stops when he sees you lying there, on an IV drop.

you just look so frail on that moment, pale skin and shaky breaths - he's grateful for the heart monitor standing besides you, showing him your heartbeat.

he cries, while holding your hand and just waiting for you to wake up and come back to him. He's gonna have to be forced to leave (Trey comes to get him, only able to convince him with tarts and promises of returning the next day, he even leaves one of those tarts for you..just in case you wake up.)

during classes/when he's not with you he's more irritable then normal and he sometimes reverts back into his snappy behavior - he just worries so much, and everyone seems to be breaking more rules.

as soon as you wake up he's by your side, holding your hand while his own is shaking in pure happiness. He might even cry again, tho he tries not to let you see that part of him.

definitely gets you help as soon as you're discharged, you can talk to him (or Trey) but he'll also search for an actual therapist/psychiatrist.

depending on the problem he'll do his best to help you, like studying with you, talking to those who were rude, etc.

he starts treating you more carefully, not that he really means to but you just got so much more fragile in his eyes.

Ace/Deuce; Platonic

pure unfiltered panic and chaos. Ace slaps Deuce to get him to work again, and then Deuce has to slap Ace to do it in return.

they run to the infirmary, almost getting kicked out my one of the medics, but they're allowed to stay..as long as they don't start to make loud noises again or something similar.

Ace jut stares at you while Deuce actually started to shed a few tears - seeing you so lifeless is new, definitely blame themselves for not having noticed it earlier and thinking they're bad friends because of it.

they'll be more down in general/less energetic, and mostly try to stay by your side (tho it can get to Mich for Deuce, he just can't take seeing you like that.)

both start to ask you questions the moment you wake up, the most prominent one; WHY?! Was it them? Someone else?-

they only calm down after a little while, but don't worry it'll happen..soon..maybe..

as soon as you get discharged try to help you with everything, chores, homework, people. It'll get overwhelming, and you'll have to tell them to calm down, after a few times they lay off a little.

Epel Felmier; ?

what?..his little apple? Doing something like that? He can't believe it, but runs out of the lesson as soon as he caught wind of the rumor. (Much to Vil's dismay)

cries a little when he sees you, but does his best to hold it back for his own sake.

starts wondering why you did it, is it because of him? Is he not strong/manly enough? Was he to weak for you to feel comfortable coming to him? He just becomes an insecure mess.

looses some of his spark, and even while Rook tries to cheer him up it doesn't help. Even Vil lays off a little during that time, stress causes wrinkles after all.

as soon as he sees you awake its like a dam breaks and he can't stop crying and hugging you.

he's definitely the type to demand answers. He wants them, to help you, and he wants them now!

it'll take some talking to get the point of mental health across, how its not just something that can be put aside. But he'll listen and do his best to learn.

asks you how you're doing everyday, and might even ask Rook to look after you when he gets worried..just for your safety of course.

Jack Howl; platonic, kinda sire/cub (y'all want an romantic version?)

wolf boy is worried about his little cub, he believes it when he hears it and mentally prepares for the worst while jogging to the infirmary.

is calm..on the outside, the only tell is his tail being down and his ears flat against his head. On the inside he's a mess, thinking of what could have prevented this and how he can help you when you wake up.

stays mostly by your side, and gets more aggressive when he can't - actually growled at Leona when the man pissed him off, he's just constantly stressed and hoping you wake up - takes a toll on him.

sees you as soon as you wake up, he might not have a smile on but his tail sags and starts to wag quite a bit. He might even hugs you, but would mostly likely wait for you to open your arms/ask him.

much more protective of you, talks with you once a day about your mental health and even gets you a support plush. Its a little wolf, to help you in times of need.

Sebek; so sorry for the Sebek fans, I've never written for him before and am scared of just writing something completely OOC (out of character), I'm still practising how's to write him and until I feel confident enough I won't. I ask for your understanding.

#twst x reader #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #ace x reader #deuce x reader #twst wonderland #first years #jack x reader

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johnwickb1tsch · 4 months

Text

break me, softly

When your ex Jack Traven pays you a late night visit after a tough case, you can’t turn him away. Jack Traven x Fem!Reader ficlet

warnings: smut. angst. brief mention of hostage situation/death. slight inebriation. fluff. ❤❤❤

For @treedaddymcpuffpuff who whispered in my ear "hey you should watch Speed" and sent me down this rabbit hole (i luv u girl, you're our Keanuverse Guide & Tastemaker!) 😘😘😘 and @scarlettspectra who requested some fluff fic 😘😘😘.

It’s late at night, when you hear the soft knock on your apartment door. Usually, you wouldn’t dream of answering such a thing–a woman living alone, in this city? You’re not looking to get murdered. But something, some feeling from deep in your gut, pulls you out of bed. You walk on bare feet in just your nightie and look through the peephole. Nothing.

You know it’s probably a bad idea, but that uneasiness nags at you still. Not that you’re in danger. That someone needs you. You have a sense about that, after so many years as a nurse. Or maybe, you just always have.

You undo the deadbolts and stick your head out, to see the tall figure of a man retreating down the hall.

You would know that backside anywhere. Those broad shoulders, that trim waist, those long legs…and by the way he’s walking, you can tell he’s a little drunk.

“Jack?”

He freezes in his tracks, clearly debating with himself. Probably wondering what the fuck he’s doing here, and if you’ll tell him to go to hell, after the way he pushed you away three months ago after dating for two whole years.

He turns to face you slowly. You can say a lot of things about Officer Jack Traven–but never that he’s a coward.

“Hey, y/n.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him, since the day he shattered your world when he broke things off with you. It feels about precisely like being punched in the gut. He’s still so handsome it hurts; those soulful dark eyes, cheekbones to make a fashion model weep, a manly-man’s jawline softened by such a full, sweet mouth. Immediately, upon looking at that face you still love so well, you know something is wrong.

“Are you ok?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it. Takes a deep breath, tries again. Nothing. It’s as good as a five page report, to you. To you, who knows his every gesture, his every tell. For all it’s worth, now.

You already knew, in the back of your mind, that you were still in love with this man. It was like a fine buzzing in your heart you’d managed to push into the background of your day to day. But seeing him again makes it all surge up with a vengeance. You know that being near him again will be like feeding your heart through a paper shredder–slowly. You also know that something terrible must have happened at his work, for him to show up here like this, and so you open the door wider, laying your heart on the sacrificial altar, the way you always do.

“Come on,” you say gently, waving him in. “I’ll take care of you.”

He gives so much of himself, always trying to help everyone else in this big, mean, city. You know he forgets to leave a little fuel in the tank for himself. It’s maybe something the two of you have in common.

You watch as he fights a war within himself, teetering on the balls of his feet, undecided between staying or leaving. In the end, he takes a step towards you, then another. You try not to read too much into that. He’s just here because he’s drunk and feeling vulnerable. It doesn’t really have anything to do with you.

You’re not really sure how this will go. Probably he’ll just come sit on your couch with a beer–you still have his favorite in the fridge–and talk a little. Not about what’s actually bothering him. No, heaven forbid. But circular small talk, to get his mind off the bad thing. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before.

And yet, when you are standing toe to toe, and he has to crane his neck to look down at you–there’s a dark fire in his eyes, and with a little thrill you feel the urge to flee before his big hands engulf the sides of your face, and his mouth is on yours.

Oh. That’s what you’re doing.

You can’t say you forgot what it’s like to kiss Jack Traven–but maybe the intensity of the memory had faded a little, if for anything out of pure self defense. How could a woman keep her sanity, if she remembered how good he was, if she knew she’d never taste him again? You stand on tiptoe to throw your arms around his neck as he devours you, and he easily picks you up with an arm around your waist, walking the two of you back into your apartment and slamming the door shut with his booted heel.

This. This had never been a problem for the two of you. Passion. It was everything else that got in the way. Most of all, his dangerous job, which though it wore on you, you had never complained about. But he’d seen the way you worried about him, the way it absolutely chewed on your nerves when there was a situation on the news and you didn’t know if he would be coming home that night. You’d been willing to weather that storm for him, but the guilt of demanding that of you ate at his conscience.

He’d broken things off with you, in your own hospital, after he’d taken a bullet in the chest and you didn’t leave his side or really even sleep until he came to. I can’t ask you to keep doing this for me. You deserve better.

You’d protested, of course, but he’d made up his mind.

Until now, apparently, where he is walking you backwards towards your bedroom, half carrying you in the ardor of his embrace. You recognize this need for life-affirming intimacy. You’d gotten to know it well, over the years, and you surrender to the storm, letting him take what he needs. Letting him fist the fabric of your cotton nightie in his big hands, drawing it up over your head before falling on you again, pushing your panties down the curves of your bottom and your thighs.

You always marveled that despite his strength and the things he knows how to do with those hands, he never ever hurt you, not even when he was like this, desperate for your softness, frantic to lose himself inside the momentary bliss your body could bring. He barely has the patience to let you pull off his white t-shirt, or to enjoy the swathes of toned flesh beneath. His belt is flung forgotten to the floor from the moment you pull it from its loops and he picks you up by your thighs, walking you the rest of the way to the bed. Boots are kicked away as his mouth is attached to yours, pants and boxers shed with a sharp push.

You might have been embarrassed, by how ready you are for him, how sopping fucking wet you were for him from the moment you saw him, if you could have formed a coherent thought as his thick tip kisses your entrance, before he absolutely plunges himself inside you. The delicious shock of it steals the breath from you, your soul escaping with a moan, only to be reclaimed with his mouth on yours. He takes you like the ocean, relentless and rolling, filling you with every thrust. It’s gratifying, the animalistic sounds of abandon he makes as he fucks you. If you didn’t know any better–you might have swore you were making love, despite his hedonistic frenzy.

The same way you knew something was wrong in the first second of seeing him in the hallway, you know he’s close to finishing already, his breathing frantic in the bend of your neck, his grip just this side of bruising. He seems to remember that he’s done very little to see to your pleasure, amidst the haze of chasing his own gratification. He sits up on trembling elbows, making to reach between you. “Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. You feel so good.” Maybe it’s ridiculous, that it brings tears to your eyes to hear the endearment. You find you don’t even want to cum, as much as you just want to make this haunted man feel better.

“It’s ok,” you pant in answer, catching his hand to place it on your breast. “Cum for me, Jack. I know you need it.”

He buries his face in the bend of your neck; you’re not sure if the sound he makes is a moan or a sob, as he thrusts as deep as he can inside you, bathing your cervix with the hot flood of his seed. He continues to hold on to you as though you are the last sane thing on this earth, and you let him, your legs still wrapped around his narrow hips, your hands smoothing across the muscles of his broad shoulders.

Only much, much later, does it seem to dawn on him what he’s done–and maybe just who he did it with. He draws back to look at you with concern written in those big brown puppy eyes, smoothing your hair away from your face. You can’t help but close your own lids; jesus, how you missed his touch. You feel utterly breakable in that moment, but he’s the one who needs healing right now, so you get your shit together, gather it all back up tight and shove it down in your lockbox of a heart.

Before he can apologize or say something stupid, you pull him down to rest on your breast, the way you’ve done a hundred times before. Surely the muscle memory of it is as comforting for him as the act in the moment itself. “It’s ok, Jack. Just rest. I’ve got you.”

He sags against you, curling that powerful body around yours–and falls asleep.

You were right, of course. Your heart feels exactly like it’s been fed through a grinder, as you hold this beautiful manchild in your arms, your thighs deliciously sticky with his cum. A part of you hopes that he’ll just sneak out in the morning without waking you. It would almost hurt less, than any excuse he’ll have to offer you, when the sun comes streaming through your window.

***

But when next you wake, it’s not to the sun, or the shift of weight on the mattress while a large man tries to slip out without a sound. It’s to wet kisses upon your neck, and an agonizingly gentle touch sliding down your torso, tracing the ladder of your ribcage and the swell of your belly, before making his way up again.

“You know,” he says softly against your cheek, “you really shouldn’t open the door to anyone in the middle of the night.”

You wonder if he can see you rolling your eyes in the dark. But then his lips touch yours, and the urge to argue with him for argument’s sake dissipates into thin air. Instead you opt for honesty, the spell of intimacy not yet broken in the shadows of what must be early early morning.

“I think…I knew it was you.”

He lets out a shuddering sigh, kissing your jaw, then lower.

“Baby…” It feels so good, to hear him say it like that against your skin. You can almost forget it isn’t true anymore. You’re not his baby. You’re not his anything, even though he’s here in your bed, and his big hand is sliding down your belly again, his fingers combing through your curls. “Let me touch you?”

You really should say no.

“You don’t have to.”

He ducks to suck the soft skin of your breast lightly, then kisses it to soothe the burn. That luscious mouth…god it curls your toes. “I want to. I promise you.”

There’s so much you want to ask him. Things like why? And I thought you didn’t love me anymore? You’ve since reasoned that it’s the only way he could truly bear to break things off, the way he did. You certainly hadn’t had the strength to give him up, no matter what the stress of his occupation wreaked on you.

You don’t have the strength to say no. You do manage not to beg, like the needy little thing you are, with his big body curled over yours. You’ve always felt like nothing could touch you, with him by your side. As it turned out the only thing that could hurt you all along, was him.

You nod your assent before catching his mouth, sliding your tongue against his as his thick fingers explore your puffy slit, still wet from both of your juices. He makes a sound in the back of his throat that lifts every hair on your body, a delicious shudder running through your spine. His strong fingers circle your aching clit, just the way he knows drives you wild. Not too hard, not too soft. Fuck, this man has your number still.

You haven’t been with anyone, since the last time you were with him, despite your well-meaning girlfriends dragging you out to bars and trying to get you to forget this man who left your heart shredded like bomb shrapnel. Because deep down, you knew, you just knew this man ruined you, utterly fucking ruined you for anyone else. Who the fuck could compare? Not some asshole hoping for a one night stand down at TJ’s, that was for sure.

You realize you have tears running down your cheeks, you don’t know how it’s possible for it to be so good and hurt so much all at the same time.

Unfortunately when he moves to kiss your cheek, he notices. “Hey, hey,” he says, his hand stilling between your legs, making your hips writhe with frustration. “You ok?”

“No,” you answer honestly, reaching for him. He has you cradled in those big arms, and you can feel his manhood so firm and silky smooth against your hip. You are not ok, without him inside you right now. “Will you make love to me again?”

He pays you a ghost of that usual blinding smile, a thing a woman would sell her soul for, and it just breaks your heart all over again.

He never really answers you with words. The two of you move with pure magnetism, your leg hooking over his hip, pulling him close, inviting him inside. Without a condom, again, you think as he settles between your thighs, sinking inside you so smoothly. Maybe not smart, even though you're on birth control, but it’s the way you’re meant to be together, raw and no barriers between you. As usual, he fucks you and makes love to you all at the same time, looking into your soul while he does it, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever known. This time you cum together, and maybe it’s a little pathetic, the way you cling to each other in the darkness of your bedroom, like you really can stave off the misery of the outside world with this bit of human intimacy, your bodies inextricably entwined.

You fall asleep together, this time with your head on his chest, and as you drift you decide you’ll wake up and make him breakfast, and you won’t ask him any painful questions about what this means or if he wants you back, or if this is just a comfort fuck and you won’t see him again until the weight of the world gets too much–or maybe never, because this man is bound to find someone to settle down with. Someone he can’t bring himself to let go, the way he did you.

So you are so surprised, when you wake up, and you smell eggs and bacon and something sweet cooking. You stumble into the kitchen to find him in his blue plaid boxers, flipping a pancake, singing under his breath to R.E.M. on the radio playing low. He’s so beautiful it hurts, and it’s like your heart is gripped in an unforgiving fist.

He turns to see you in the doorway and offers you a smile. It’s still not quite the usual 100 watt Jack Traven special–he’s not feeling well enough for that. This man hides nothing, he’s so true, he wears it all on his sleeve for you. You love that so much about him, and it hurts like a knife between the ribs.

“Hey.”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

You shouldn’t feel so shy about walking into your own kitchen.

But you aren’t sure where you stand. Do you kiss him, hug him, the way you want to, the way you used to? Or are you operating under one-night-stand-protocol? Play it cool, act like you barely even like the guy? It’s so fucked up, and you never wanted to be in this position again.

Sensing your hesitance, he crosses the floor to you, engulfing the side of your face in his big hand as he kisses you good morning, like nothing ever changed. “Hey,” he says again, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Jack.”

“Yeah, baby.”

You told yourself you weren’t going to ask painful questions. Remember? Remember that? So you just sigh, and close your eyes, and absorb this moment for what it is. “Do you feel better?” you ask. Another important question.

“Yes and no.”

You sigh again through your nose. The corners of his mouth twitch, because he knows you so well, and that one little gesture conveys a novel to him too.

“Thank you,” he says, for last night, and whatever else, you don’t really know.

“Any time.” You mean it, when you say it.

“Yeah?” There is a hint of his usual sparkle in his eyes as he asks this. And a part of you wants to pick a fight, to say I’m not the one who left. But maybe you have grown up a little, because you bite your tongue for now.

“Yeah.” You reach up to touch his hair, the soft spikes of his buzzcut like velvet beneath your fingers. You know he would have beautiful hair if he grew it out. You’d seen his high-school pictures. He had the potential for hair to make a grown woman weep.

Later, with your mouth full of pancake, you ask gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He flexes his jaw, looking out the window. He always bottled things up, before. He didn’t want to burden you with the hard things he saw at work. You didn’t want him to carry it alone. Usually you had to pry it out of him, because of course he refused to see the shrink at work.

You realize you are gobsmack surprised when he actually volunteers, “We had a hostage situation. A woman…died. The bank robber shot her. It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. It was the criminal’s fault. He brought a gun to a bank with the intention to steal money by any means necessary. You did your best.”

Once upon a time, he would have argued with you on that too. His jaw clenches as he thinks about it, argues with you in his mind, at least.

But this time in the end, he closes his eyes, nods. Reaches for your hand across the table. You take it, holding on to him. Those warm, strong fingers wrapped around yours feel like home, and you try not to start crying because you’ve missed him so much.

“Y/n…?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For pushing you away.”

Once upon a time, you would have said something inane, like that’s ok. You’ve grown as a person too, and this time, you nod, because he does owe you an apology. “Thanks for that.”

“I know…I don’t deserve it. But maybe…if you’d let me…I could make it up to you?”

You close your eyes at hearing that, light headed. You might have fallen out of your chair, if not for his hand anchoring you.

“I would like that,” you admit, giving yourself points for not sounding too pathetic, and crawling across the table through the breakfast dishes to sit in his lap.

Then, he does flash you the 1000 watt Jack Traven smile, and the circuits in your brain melt.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you big idiot.” You’re really not sure if he pulls you, or if you get up and walk, but you find yourself in his lap with your lips on his, his strong arms wrapped around you and his lips on yours. He rocks you like a child, smiling against your mouth between stealing kisses.

“I love you.”

You feel as though the desert of your heart has suddenly undergone a superbloom, the ferocity of your love making you lightheaded.

“Jack…”

“Yeah?” He really is smiling now, in between kissing you, cute little snatches of sweetness all over your face. With hands on his cheeks you catch his lips, smiling against his mouth after a long smooch.

“I love you too. But if you ever break up with me for any reason other than you don’t love me anymore, I might maim you.”

This wins you that radiant smile that curls your toes again. “So much for the Florence Nightingale oath.”

“Leave her out of it, this is between you and me.” He chuckles, and squeezes you again in his big arms.

“Alright. Consider me warned.”

“Good.”

His big hand runs up your thigh, that dark sparkle in his eyes that never fails to take your breath away. “I feel like I should start that making up I have to do here.” Suddenly you find yourself seated on your kitchen table, Jack smiling up at you from between your legs. He reaches for the syrup, and you can’t help but throw your head back with laughter, certain he’s teasing you. “You are going to make such a mess!”

“Honey, you’re the one going to be making the mess.” He has the nerve to smirk up at you before stealing your panties, and smearing syrup up your thighs.

#jack traven #jack traven x you #jack traven x y/n #jack traven x reader #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #speed #keanuverse #speed 1994

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blackcherryvelvet0909 · 1 year

Text

Morning Surf (Jack x GN!Reader)

You yawned again as your feet hit the sand, arms stretched above your head, a sigh to follow as your back softly popped. Your hands came down to wipe the remaining crusts from your eyes, still partly drooped as you tried to wake up. Honestly, you could only remember half the trek down here - really didn’t remember dressing yourself, either. Your consciousness finally awakened to the sound of the waves ahead of you. The sky was dusted with a few thin clouds, the sun hung high enough to be just past daybreak. Aside from yourself, there was nary a soul on the beach.

“Do you need a break?” Ah, yes, in your sleepy haze you almost forgot your companions behind you. While Jamil brushed past, Jack remained at your side, surfboard tucked under his large bicep. “We’ve been walking for a while now. There’s a bench over there - you can rest if you need to.”

“No, it’s okay,” you assured with a tired smile. “I can make it to one of the lounge chairs. I’ll set up there to rest.”

“If you’re sure.” As you began to walk again, Jack remained beside you. “I’ll walk with you, just in case. I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.”

“Geez, just carry them at this rate.” You glanced over to Ace, who just finished rolling his eyes. “What’re you, some wolf in shining armor?”

“Lay off, Ace,” Jack grumbled with an eyeroll of his own.

“Your attitude towards such chivalry shows just how less of a gentleman you are, Ace.” Sebek appeared from behind the redhead, a smug smile upon his face as he peered down at the boy. “Not to mention your maturity.”

“And what do you know, Mr. Loudmouth, Killer of Eardrums?” To anticipate a fight between the two this early wouldn’t be so brash, you thought. You watched Ace develop a smirk of his own as he eyed Sebek’s own board. “Why do you have a board, anyway? Don’t tell me you’re going to try and surf?”

Sebek scoffed. “I’ll have you know that I have ‘surfed’ many times in my life - since I was a boy, in fact!”

“Oh really?” Ace challenged. “What did you do, huh? Use one of those baby paddle boards to float down a stream?”

“No.” That arrogance came back full force as Sebek puffed out his chest. “Master Lilia escorted Silver and I to Briar Valley’s coast multiple times a year. Not only would he have us swim against the most violent of currents, but also taught us how to balance above them on wooden boards. Why, I recall many times where we would engage in combat atop those rickety wooden planks! Not every trip was met with calm weather, either.”

“That must have been really hard to do,” you commented.

“Indeed, but it was worth the effort.” Sebek almost resembled a little boy that had just been praised for a job well done. “Thanks to Master Lilia, I am stronger than any mere human.”

“Even with the hardship, it must have been nice to spend time with him and Silver like that.” You wondered if Malleus ever went with them on those trips. “The view from the coastline must have been beautiful.”

“I’m afraid I scarcely recall,” Sebek admitted with a sigh. He looked out towards the waves you approached. “We often took up such training at night to better our senses; I only gazed upon the morning light briefly before we departed.”

Oh.

“Would you like to set up here?” Jack asked, interrupting your thoughts that tried to fathom just what Lilia put Sebek and Silver through. You answered with a small ‘hm?’ before you looked down at the wooden lounge chair beside you. Oh, you were here already. “Or do you want one of the others?”

“This one will be fine.” You smiled up at Jack, now more awake then you’d been before. “Thank you - I might’ve passed it if you hadn’t pointed it out.”

“No problem.” Jack wore a small smile as he adjusted the surfboard under his arm. “I’ll be out there with the guys. If you need anything, just call.”

“I’m sure I won’t need anything,” you assured, “but thank you!”

Jack gave a nod as his reply before he turned around and jogged over to another wooden chaise. He placed his towel and bag down neatly, along with his shoes and necklace, before he made his way out to the sea. If you squint, you could make out the figure of Jamil already there, sitting on his board as he waited for a good wave. You never knew he was into surfing…honestly, that went for most of the people present. You were a little less nervous about Sebek going out now, but Ace? Yeah, that was a wipeout waiting to happen - more than one. If Epel had joined you instead of sleeping in, you’d be making bets on how many times Ace would fall off his board.

When the three finally joined Jamil out in the water (he’d specifically stated he would not be responsible for any injury they sustained), you busied yourself with setting up your spot on the beach. Unintentionally or no, Jack actually led you to the perfect spot. The sun was not in your direct line of vision (not yet, at least), the chair was located at the perfect middle point between the shore, and it came with its own little table! You would surely have no problem organizing your things this time around. You’d have to thank Jack later. For now though, you simply sat back, relaxed, and let the boys put on a show for you. Hopefully without any injury or squabble in-between.

***

“Hey hey!” You glanced up at the man who suddenly appeared next to you: Cater. He was dressed in his usual beach ensemble, large bag in hand; in addition to that, Cater had a surfboard under his arm. Cater must have seen you eye it, for he said, “I heard there would be some great waves out this morning! I thought I’d come out and catch a few.”

“I didn’t know you surfed.” You wondered just how many hidden talents your classmates were hiding.

“Mmn, a few times, yeah,” Cater affirmed. “Wouldn’t call myself an expert, but hey!” He pointed out to the water - you could see another large wave coming, and the four figures of your friends were readying to meet it. “Looks like I got some boys to give me a few pointers.”

“I’m sure Jack would be happy to give you some advice.” You let out a giggle as, when the wave just began to crest, Ace fell off his board with a yelp - again, for the fourth time that day. “I’m not so sure about the others, though.”

Cater let out a laugh of his own. “Yeah, Deuce mentioned Ace went out with you three when I passed him in the breakfast hall earlier. Not…the most graceful, is he?”

“Nope,” you said with a little laugh.

“Well, hey, gotta start somewhere!” Cater laid his things on the lounge chair next to you. He glanced over his shoulder as he fished a bottle of sunblock out of his bag. “Looks like Sebek’s got it going pretty good! And Jamil - man! Where’d he learn to do tricks like that?!”

You quickly turned your head just in time to see Jamil finish his spin on the board. Though you could barely make it out from the distance, you saw the grin spread across his face. “He’s certainly full of surprises,” you muttered.

“But you’re right: Jack’s probably my best option.” Cater lifted his heart-shaped sunglasses atop his head to rub some sunscreen on his face. “Nice guy, y’know? Not much of a talker, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders!” Cater sat down on the chair, now facing you. “Jack’s pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, he is.” You spared a glance back at the waves. The big wave was gone, remnants now crashing onto shore. Jack was the closest in your line of vision - enough to make out the way his tail wagged, the way he smiled and threw up his fists in joy as water dripped from his torso. That wide, toothy grin…it was contagious. “He really is…”

At first, you couldn’t see the sly smile that spread across Cater’s conniving face. He stalled in his application of sun protection as he leaned over on his knees, a little closer to you now as he teased, “Really nice to look at, too, huh?~”

“Yeah…” Your words came out in a hush, gaze laser focused on Jack. The way his muscles flexed as he splashed some water at Ace, how his ears twitched in amusement as the redhead shot back at him with a splash of his own. Jack was really, really good looking…wait. Suddenly, you snapped out of your thoughts as you registered what Cater just said. To try and save yourself from embarrassment, you added, “H-He’s worked really hard to get where he is with his body! Jack’s really proud of himself.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Cater’s green orbs glinted with mischief - he could put Leona to shame with that look. “And you know that I know what you meant.”

“I, uh, I-”

Cater let out another laugh. “Look at you! All cute and stuttering - no wonder he thinks you’re adorable!”

“W-Who thinks I’m adorable?” you asked, trying to ignore the red that slowly crept up your cheeks.

“Aw, c’mon, [Y/n]!” Cater gave a playful nudge to your shoulder. “You really don’t know who I’m implying?”

You were about to say no…then it hit you. No, no! “Jack?!” Your voice came out louder than you wanted it to.

“Mmhmm~” Cater cooed. He rested his chin on his palm as he continued with, “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way he looks at you; he treats you so sweetly, too~”

“N-No, y-you’re just mistaken!” you protested. “Jack, he…he treats me like everyone else! Like our other friends!”

“Yeah, okay,” Cater chuckled as he leaned back. He went back to rubbing himself over with sunblock as he said, “I’m sure he also carries bags and other heavy things for Ace and Deuce, too. Even little Epel and big ol’ Sebek. Does he make sure they’re always hydrated, that they’ve eaten? Has he ever carried them when they were tired?”

“I…” No, no he didn’t, not to your knowledge. You’d seen him do little things to care for his friends, even acquaintances, but…nothing like the things he did for you. You mind searched for an excuse, yet couldn’t find one. You, to Jack, adorable? Cater…he must be teasing! “Wha…what proof do you have anyway?!”

“He told me,” Cater stated with a shrug. “Don’t think he meant to - just kinda slipped out when he was talking about you with Deuce. I just happened to overhear.” Cater glanced back over at the sea, then let out something between a laugh and a chuckle. “Oopsie! Looks like your little yell got his attention.”

You followed Cater’s gaze and, sure enough, Jack was staring at you both. His ears were perked up, alert, those keen golden orbs glued onto you. You remembered his words from earlier: ‘If you need anything, just call.’ Oh no… You glimpsed Cater stand up and pick up his board, just as he tossed his sunglasses, shirt, and other accessories onto his seat.

“Well, I’m off!” Cater waved at you as he turned to tell you goodbye. That cheery expression was briefly interchanged with a devious one as he added, “I’ll send Jackie boy right over~”

“Cater, no!” But he was already gone, practically skipping over to the shoreline. As his feet touched the water, you heard him call out to Jack - then pointed back in your direction. You didn’t know exactly what he said, but it was enough for Jack to begin wading back to shore with his board. “Dammit, Cater…” you cursed under your breath. You just wanted to bury your head in the sand…

In no time, the beastman was at your side. Water droplets dripped down his skin and fell to the sand, right along with the ones that dropped from his surfboard. His fingers brushed hair away from his face as he spoke, “What’s wrong? Cater said you needed something.”

“Did he now?” You glared daggers in Cater’s direction for a brief moment. He wasn’t too far from shore yet, so he was able to see your face. The third year simply smiled wide and waved at you. You were going to kill him.

“Yeah,” Jack reaffirmed. He dug the tip of his surfboard into the sand to balance it better under his forearm. “Did you not bring anything to drink? I’ve got some water in my bag, you’re welcome to it.”

“N-No, I have my water bottle here.” You held up the thick bottle of [favorite color] hard plastic up for him to see. You forced a smile and commented, “That was some great surfing out there!”

“Thanks!” The large grin that spread across his face was a bit uncharacteristic for his usual stoic demeanor, but it was…cute, you thought. “I think I’ve gotten better than I was last year. All that practice over the summer did me good!” That grin faded to a smile as he asked again, “So, what was it you needed?”

“Um…” Well, he was here - Cater was so nice to direct him to you. Might as well bite the bullet. “Cater mentioned something you called me a while ago, and I was wanting to know if it was true.”

“Hm?” That smile was gone in an instant as Jack feared the worst. “Was it something bad? If it is, I didn’t say it. If I had a problem with you, I’d say it to your face; I’m no coward.”

“I know you’re not,” you reassured. “And it wasn’t anything bad! It just…well, it surprised me.” Jack looked at you expectantly - here goes nothing. “Cater said he overheard you tell Deuce I was adorable.”

Those big wolf ears quickly flattened against his head, expression one of shock. He was clearly flustered, that was for sure; Jack was so taken aback he nearly dropped his board! Either Cater just told you a blatant lie to rile you up (which you’d definitely kill him for), he misheard Deuce and Jack’s conversation, or…It was your turn to wait in anticipation for Jack’s answer. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, eyes glued to you. Then, in the next, he looked anywhere but you. Finally, after a long pause, lost in his own head, Jack rubbed the back of his neck, eyes glued to the sand below.

A clear sign he was embarrassed - shy, even.

“Uh…y-yeah, I did.”

The air was knocked from your lungs. For a few seconds, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. When your brain fog cleared, only one thought was there to greet you: Jack thought you were adorable. “R…Really?” you muttered, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Mmph.” You supposed that noise meant ‘yes’. Now it was time for your heart to rattle in your chest. That fluttering increased as Jack went on. “I…I didn’t wanna tell you, not till later. I just didn’t think it was the right time. I talked to Deuce about it; I guess that’s when Cater-senpai heard me say it.”

You simply nodded your head in reply. Your hands gripped the wood of the chair, as if for dear life.

“Well…I’ve got no excuse now.” Jack’s hand fell to his side, posture straightened again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; after five seconds, he released it in one long exhale before opening his eyes again. When they did, they looked directly into your own. “Can I take you out to dinner?”

Your mouth felt as though it were full of cotton. Blood pumped in your ears, nearly overpowering the sound of crashing waves - and of a certain someone wiping out once again. You paid no mind to the three different laughs that followed. Really, you had no idea how to reply, what to say. Jack Howl, your friend, was asking you on a date. You promised yourself you wouldn’t catch feelings for him; when they began to surface, you pushed them way down into the confines of your soul. You didn’t want to ruin things…apparently those fears were for naught.

“W-We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” It was so odd to hear Jack stutter, nervous and unsure of himself. “There’s no pressure - you don’t even have to give me an answer. I know this is all sudden, and I-”

“I’d love to.” The words left your lips before you could even think. It was instinct, you guessed. Jack seemed to jolt at your reply, ears once again pointing straight up at the sky. It was cute…you finally let yourself smile as wide as your cheeks would allow. “Nothing would make me happier, Jack.”

For another moment, there was silence between you. Then, slowly, Jack’s tail began to wag. It gained speed more and more until it was almost hard to make out. You wondered if Jack even noticed - likely not for the way he almost seemed to beam. “You would?” Those words were nearly a breath, inaudible, but you caught them. You nodded enthusiastically, now grinning.

Like the one he wore before out in those waves, yours was contagious. You watched that toothy grin slowly reappear as he seemed to let out a breath of relief. “Good…good, that’s good! I-um, sorry, I’m not myself.” On the contrary, you thought Jack was currently more of himself than he let on. For now, though, you let it slide in favor of witnessing this rare slip of composure. Jack tried to regain that tough image of his as he took another quick deep breath, the exhale much quicker. He no longer grinned, but his smile showed all the confidence in the world.

“When would you like to go out?” he asked.

“Would tonight be okay?” you asked in response.

“Yeah!” Jack nearly resembled an excited puppy. Though his tail no longer wagged at the speed of light, it was still pretty fast. “Is it alright if I pick you up at six?”

“That sounds wonderful.” You could feel yourself slowly begin to melt under his golden gaze - which you could now only describe as loving. “I’ll get someone to watch Grim while I’m gone.” Your smile must have sent Jack’s heart into flips for the way his cheeks turned pink. It looked pretty against his tan skin. “I can’t wait for tonight.”

“Me too…” He simply looked down at you for a moment, as though the world had just fallen into place before him. Then, he recomposed himself once more and said, “Oh, and don’t worry about dressing up or anything! I know a place we can go. It’s not too fancy - I think you’ll like it.”

“You always know what I like,” you chuckled.

“I like to…” Jack trailed off once again; you wondered if he could ever get tired of staring at you. It didn’t seem like he would…come to think of it, he’d looked at you that way before. Many times before, actually, for the past several months. Was that…was that what Cater meant earlier? You understood now…it was nice.

“Well, what do we have here?”

The both of you jumped at the sudden voice behind you. The two of you whipped your heads around to look at the source: Vil. Rook was beside him, in his arms two large bags, over his shoulder an even larger umbrella and a pair of long, fluffy towels. Both smirked from ear to ear as they eyed you both: they knew. You knew they knew from the glint in their eyes, the same as Cater’s before (eesh, Leona had nothing on them). How many people knew? Was it that obvious?!

“Don’t mind us,” Vil said with a wave of his hand. He walked past your chair with Rook in tow, though he glanced over his shoulder as he pulled down his expensive shades enough to reveal those lavender, knowing eyes. “We won’t intervene. Certainly don’t stop on our account~”

With that, the two walked away without another word. Jack seemed to shrink on the spot, clearly mortified. You followed along with him as you practically curled up in your chair, knees tucked under your chin and hot face pressed into the crevice between. You groaned to yourself - so embarrassing! Then you heard something shuffle next to you. When you peeked out from your knees, all you saw was Jack. His fingers came to brush a strand of hair away from your cheek; you practically shivered at his soft touch.

“If you’ll wait for me, I’ll walk you back to the hotel later.”

You wanted to, but… “I-I can’t,” you mumbled, clearly disappointed. “I promised Malleus I would go with him and Lilia out to lunch. I don’t want to cancel at the last minute - and Grim would kill me! I need to get back at least an hour before.”

Jack made a small noise as he nodded to himself. Instead of dismay, however, he smiled at you again. “That’s okay. You go and have fun, alright?” His knuckle softly grazed your cheek as he retracted his hand. You almost wished he kept it there a bit longer. “I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Mhm,” you hummed with a shy little smile. “I’ll see you then.”

For how close he was, you thought Jack might kiss you…but he didn’t. You recalled when he said minutes ago that he thought it wasn’t the right time to ask you out before - was that what he felt now? Maybe. Even so, you hoped it would be soon. You…wanted to. Really bad. He smiled as he departed back for the sea, tail wagging all the way.

You really tried to ignore the knowing smiles that were sent your way, both from the sea and sand. Cater, Vil, Rook…you really hoped Lilia didn’t know. If he did, it was going to be a very long lunch. You hoped Malleus would be a little better - but for the way you could picture that smirk in your mind, you doubted it. Oh, the things you just did and would do…but you didn’t regret it one bit.

187 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 2 months

Note

hello! I'm in looove with your writing!! 🥰❤️ I was wondering if you ever thought about writing something about Hotch watching Emily sleep? like a 5+1 thing or something like that? maybe it's a weird request but I thought I'd ask hahaha

Thank you so much <3 and not a weird request at all, I love it and I LOVE writing 5+1 format fics.

Sorry for kind of teasing you all about this fic for over a week. But I hope it was worth the wait, please let me know what you think <3

This fic is a real rollercoaster of emotions and I hope you enjoy the ride!

-x-

These Pages Must Show

Everything else had come later. Her obvious intelligence, her unending kindness, her sense of humour. It all slowly chipped away his armour until he found himself standing on her doorstep asking her to come on just more case, well aware by that point that she was someone he could trust, the ashes of his marriage still clinging to his suit.

Five times Aaron watches Emily sleep, and one time she watches him.

-x-

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Angst, grief, pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut:

One

Everyone except Aaron falls asleep almost the moment the jet takes off.

It had been a long, hard, case. They’d barely had time to sleep, their hotel rooms more a place to freshen up and keep their things rather than rest. He was tired too, exhaustion settling deep in his bones, but he drinks a coffee to keep himself awake - desperate to get as much paperwork done as possible on the journey home to free up some of his weekend to spend time with his son. His time with Jack had been limited since the divorce and he made the most of it where he could, pleased that, despite everything, he and Haley were making things work for their son so he would grow up knowing both his parents loved him.

Aaron is pulled out of his concentration when he hears a soft snore from across the table, and he’s unable to stop himself from smiling when he looks at Emily, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly, her grip on the book she’d been reading loosening. She’d been the last to fall asleep out of everyone. They’d spoken for a little while, conversation flowing between them in a way that was easier now than ever before, the case in Milwaukee that had almost been the last for both of them fraying any final strands of mistrust.

She snores again and he suppresses a smile even though she’s fast asleep. There’s something endearing about the fact she snores. It was a piece of information about her that he’d store away, something that made her seem human, a reminder he sometimes needed to tell himself she wasn’t perfect.

He’d noticed her beauty the moment they met. He wasn’t blind, despite his mistrust of her, and it had taken him aback, the stirring deep in his gut, the flip of his stomach that he hadn’t had looking at another woman since he’d married Haley quickly chased away by guilt. He didn’t have to be good at his job to know that’s why he’d been so harsh on her, aiming his frustration outwards because it was easier than wondering why just looking at her made him feel more than he’d felt in months.

She snores again and shifts in her seat, her grip on her book loosening even further, and he sees it start to slip to the ground. He stands up and catches it before it hits the floor, grabbing it as it slips out of her lap, his thumb pressed on the inside of the spine to keep it open on its spot. He looks around for a bookmark to hold where she’d got to, but can’t see one on the table in front of her. The outside of the book may have been worn, the cracked spine and faded edges giving away just how many times she’d read it, but none of the pages are dog-eared. He doesn’t want to cause any damage to something she clearly values, so he digs through his pocket for a receipt, smiling in victory when he finds the one from when he’d bought everyone coffee that morning. He slips the thin piece of paper into the book and closes it before placing it on the table next to her half-drunk cup of tea.

He smiles when she mutters something under her breath as she sleeps, her eyebrows furrowed as she shifts slightly in her seat, and he sits back down, content to carry on with his paperwork in silence.

When she eventually wakes up from her nap, shaken out of it by a small pocket of turbulence, he’s in the kitchenette, so he misses how she looks curiously at her book. How she smiles when she opens it and looks back and forth between his empty seat and the receipt detailing everyone’s coffee order that morning, the coffee order she knows he bought.

As he steps into the main cabin past the curtain he smiles at her, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

She shakes her head, suppressing a yawn, covering her mouth with her hand, “I’ll never sleep when I get home if I do.”

“Tea?” He asks, placing his cup of coffee on the table, “There’s chamomile.”

She hesitates for a moment, not wanting to inconvenience him, to make him go back into the kitchenette just for her, but then her gaze drops to her book, the slip of paper sticking out of each end of it, and she presses her lips together to capture her smile. The simple act of kindness warming her from the inside out, the crush on him she’d been desperately trying to ignore tearing itself out of the box she’d locked it away in.

“Yeah,” she replies, smiling at him, keeping her voice low so she doesn’t wake the others, finding herself chasing just a few minutes alone with him, “That would be nice, thank you.”

He smiles and nods, turning back and disappearing behind the curtain. She blows out a slow breath the moment he’s no longer in sight, desperate to gather herself as her breath puffs out her cheeks. She’s barely able to chastise herself for something as pedestrian as having a crush on her boss, when he’s placing the cup of tea in front of her, his smile soft as he sits down again.

“Here you go, Emily.”

It’s just her first name, something the rest of the team uses outside of work all the time, but she knows it’s the first sign that something between them has changed. That a bookmark made of a receipt and a cup of tea have somehow shifted them into something different. She wraps her hand around the mug, warming her palms with it, letting herself feel the slight burn so she can think of anything other than how fast her heart is beating against her ribcage.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

___

Two

His shoulders slump the moment he steps into his apartment, the weight of the day finally pressing down on him. He dumps his briefcase on the side table before he checks the locks behind him, jiggling the chain to double-check it is secure.

It’s only when he turns around and faces his apartment he realises just how quiet it is. He frowns, the anxiety that had never quite gone away since Foyet had attacked him here in his home licking at his insides. If circumstances were different, if his son hadn’t lost almost everything that was once familiar to him, Aaron is sure he would have moved. That he would have found somewhere else to call home, a place where he wouldn’t sit on the couch, his eyes fixed on the piece of carpet where he’d once almost died. But he wanted Jack to have something to hang on to, one thing that felt normal in the new life they were living, and this apartment was safe to him, so Aaron stayed.

He’d rather fight his own demons head-on than create any more for his son, especially since he cost him his mother.

He’s quiet as he opens Jack’s bedroom door, the only light in the room the nightlight in the corner, and any anxiety disappears the moment he spots his little boy fast asleep in his twin bed, the woman sleeping next to him, her cheek pressed against the boy’s sandy hair, answering the other question Aaron had.

Emily had offered to babysit at the last minute. Jessica was sick so couldn’t pick Jack up from school like she usually would, and that combined with an emergency meeting with Strauss had left him in a tough spot. Emily was with him when he took the call from Jessica, had watched as his grip had tightened on his phone, and she was already offering to look after Jack before he’d even hung up.

Ever since Haley’s death, she’d become a semi-permanent feature in the Hotchner household. She brought them meals and her company, and occasionally Sergio once Jack found out that the cat existed and decided they’d be fast friends. She looked after them and never expected anything in return, her smile endlessly kind as she assured him it was no bother to her, that she loved spending time with the two of them.

When he allowed himself to look ahead, when the heavy, hazy, grief that had settled around him cleared just enough for him to see what he wanted in the future, she was in it. She was it. He’d long accepted that the feelings he had for her were deeper than friendship, a four-letter word he kept locked in his chest, the key of the cage he kept it in lodged in his throat, because he knew now wasn’t the time. He had to put Jack first, to make sure he was okay, and he had to make sure he was okay himself too.

He didn’t want to enter into anything broken, didn’t want to fracture what he’s sure would be something precious if he looked after it properly.

He allows himself a moment to simply look at them. Jack looked as peaceful as he ever did these days, his face slack and half pressed against Emily’s chest, his small hand around the neckline of her shirt. Emily is lying next to him, on top of the covers her arms secure around him with an open storybook abandoned in her lap.

Aaron knows from experience that sleeping like she is for too long would hurt her back, a lesson he’d learnt the hard way when Jack first started sleeping in his own room again just a few weeks ago. The victory that he was no longer in Aaron’s bed with him not dampened by the fact they were both squished together in a smaller bed. He walks over and reaches out, his hand hesitating for a moment before he touches her, careful to make sure he’s only touching her arm before he gently shakes her, stopping the moment he sees her eyelashes flutter.

“Emily.”

She grumbles, her voice rough and adorable as her eyebrows knit together as she peels her eyes open, “Aaron?”

“It’s me,” he says quietly, smiling softly when she blinks, her eyes briefly wide as she realises where she is, her grip on Jack tightening, “I just got home.”

“Oh,” she says, looking down at Jack, “I didn’t realise I’d fallen asleep.”

He hates that she sounds apologetic, like there should be anything to be ashamed of for feeling comfortable enough around his little boy to drift off, “That’s okay, if I didn’t think your back would hate you in the morning I’d have left you to it.”

There’s something about the admission that makes her blush, and she’s immediately grateful that the only light in the room is the nightlight in the corner, “Well, thank you,” she says, kissing Jack’s forehead as she disentangles herself from him, smiling shyly at Aaron as she stands up straight, “I’ll leave you to say goodnight.”

He smiles gratefully at her and nods as she steps out into the hallway. He retucks the bedding around his son and sits on the edge of the bed, taking a couple of minutes to watch him, to soak in everything he’d missed so many months of, everything he’d make sure he’d spend the rest of his life protecting. Eventually, he kisses his forehead and whispers his love against his soft skin before he leaves the room.

When he walks back to the living room, Emily already has her jacket and shoes on, her car keys in hand and a soft smile on her face.

“Thank you for looking after him.”

She waves him off, shaking her head as she rebukes the gratitude, as if it would never occur to her to do anything else, “It’s my pleasure. He’s a great kid.”

He nods, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stares at her. He wants her to stay, wants to bask in her company as easily as his son does, but he finds himself stuck, one foot firmly in his past as he tries to take a shaky step into his future, the path unsteady and unsure.

“I should get going,” she says softly, stepping towards him, her arms crossed over her chest, her smile still endlessly kind, “I’ll see you two tomorrow for his soccer game?”

He can see everything in her eyes that she hasn’t said, can see the assurance in her smile, the way she leans forward for a hug steadying the foundations for what was to come. He hugs her back, lets himself feel the weight of her against him for a second longer than he should, and then he lets her go, and he hopes she can hear everything he can’t say yet too.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Emily.”

I’ll be ready soon.

She smiles softly, “See you tomorrow, Aaron.”

I’ll be waiting.

___

Three

He ignores the sympathetic look the nurse on the desk gives him.

He’s almost tempted to chastise her for not checking his credentials, to remind her that this was the secure wing, but he recognises her as well as she recognises him.

He’d been here every day for over a week.

The journey to Emily’s room is familiar, the click of his shoes on the laminate floor echoing around the hallway, playing a tune that turns his stomach as it mixes in with the repetitive beep of the machines in every patient room. She’s asleep when he walks in. She almost always was as her body recovered from the injuries that should have killed her, the injuries that had killed her.

He knows it’s stupid to visit her every day, that if JJ knew where he was she’d tell him off, but he can’t help himself. Especially today when some of the dirt he’d thrown in on top of her coffin was still lingering on the cuff of his pants.

He sits next to her bed, his hand automatically wrapping around hers, their once strong embargo on not touching each other except for hugs goodbye long gone. There had been a moment, just before the day when he now knew Sean McCallister had called her, when he thought they’d finally made it to the moment he’d been waiting for, his reasons for not asking her out on a date no longer outweighing his reasons for asking her out. He’d kissed her, her smile soft as she pulled back from it, her fingers running through his hair as she promised she’d see him tomorrow.

She’d pulled back from him overnight, the one kiss they’d shared still making his lips tingle as she suddenly had excuses to not spend any time with him and Jack. He’d assumed she’d changed her mind, or that he’d misread all the signs somehow, and it was only when it was too late, when she’d already put herself in danger to protect the team, to protect him and his son, when he realised what was happening.

Aaron wished she’d told him what was happening. Wished that she’d given him a chance to help, but he knew she’d done what she thought was right, and he couldn’t bring himself to hold that against her.

Not when he was about to send her away.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, his eyes fixed on her bruised face and his hand around hers, before she slowly wakes up, a small groan escaping her as the pain that came with being awake washes over her.

“Aar…” she trails off, his name stuck in her throat as she tries to fight off the sleep that was always threatening to drag her back under, and he squeezes her hand, lifting it to his lips to kiss her knuckles before he even thinks about it.

“It’s me, Emily,” he assures her, “It’s Aaron.” He smiles when she finally opens her eyes, the love he felt for her swirling in his gut as she looks him up and down.

“You look smart,” she says, her blinks slow, her eyelids drawn down by medication and pain, “This is nicer than your normal suits.”

He squeezes her hand, his jaw tight as he clears his throat, “I came straight from the cemetery.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else, even in the state she was in she understood, her weak grip on his hand briefly tighter, “Oh,” she says, her lips pressed together, “That was today.”

He nods, “Yes,” he replies, “I made an excuse and left the wake. I had to come to see you.”

He can’t bring himself to tell her that he needed to see her because he needed to remind himself that it is all fake. That the weight to the coffin he’d carried wasn’t her body but sandbags they’d put in the casket to make it seem real, that the gravestone with her name etched onto it stood at a grave that was empty apart from the weighted casket. It was too real, everyone else's grief weighing down on him, the guilt that he'd done this, that he’d taken her life from her filling his lungs.

“Hey,” she whispers, dragging his attention to her, “Don’t do that.”

He smiles wryly, his thumb tracing over her pulse point, a much needed reminder that she’d somehow survived, that she was still here even if no one else knew it, “Don’t do what?”

“Blame yourself,” she says, her smile weak, “You did what you had to do to protect me.”

He hums, not quite sure that he believes her, self-hatred so familiar to him, such a cornerstone of his life, that it was easier to feel than everything else. “Yeah, I just wish it hadn’t come to this.”

“Me too,” she replies, the apology she’d given him a thousand times since she’d first woken up dying on her tongue, “I heard the doctor talking. He said I’ll be stable enough to move soon. Will you be told when it happens?”

He shakes his head and watches the slightly hopeful smile slip off her face. Every time he’d come here there had been the possibility that she’d already be gone, her room empty, the smell of disinfectant in the air removing the final traces of her from his life. “It’s safer that no one knows.”

She swallows thickly, the knowledge that this could be their goodbye, that it could truly be the end of the thing between them that never had a chance to get started weighing heavily in the room. She can’t bring herself to think about it, much less talk about it, but she knows she wants him here with her as long as possible. She forces a smile and squeezes his hand, making him look up at her.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he replies immediately, and they both know he’d do it. That if he could spare her any of this he would.

Her smile turns genuine, the love that would feel cruel to admit to now flooding through her, “Can you read to me for a little while?” She asks, nodding towards a book on the side table, “I keep trying but with all the meds they’ve got me on I can’t concentrate.”

He reaches for the book, raising his eyebrow as looks back to her, the pristine cover and perfect spine giving away that it was new and had never been read, “I didn’t take you for a Dickens fan.”

She narrows her eyes, “One of the nurses gave it to me,” she says, “I didn’t exactly have time to pack a bag.”

He smiles and opens the books with one hand, the other still wrapped around hers, “From the start?” He asks and she nods. He smiles at her before he turns his attention back to the book, “Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.”

___

Four

He wakes up early, drawn from sleep by the sun streaming in through an unfamiliar window, his face in the direct line of the gap in the curtains.

It was rare that he got to wake up slowly, so he takes advantage of it. Lets his senses return one by one, each one of them reminding him where he is before his brain kicks into gear. The sound of her soft snores. The smell of her hair from where her head was tucked under his chin. The feel of her tangled around him, their limbs wrapped together like a vine. The taste of her still lingering on his lips, something he chases with his tongue as he wets his lower lip. When he opens his eyes and looks at her, tilting his head just enough to see the profile of her face, a sense of peace he thought he’d never experience again washes over him.

They’d taken things slowly.

When she came home, a shell of the person she’d once been, he’d wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms and protect her. He’d stopped himself, his palms itching with it as he reminded himself she needed to do this how she saw fit. She’d had so much of her freedom stripped away, some of it by him, and she needed to claw it back, needed to try and find her footing again in a world that had shattered around her. The first step back towards where they’d been before was when they came to their agreement that she’d tell him about her bad days. He’d tried, and failed, to remain detached. The lie that he only cared as her boss obvious to both of them, but he knows that it had contributed to her keeping her promise to come to him on that very same case.

After that, there were times when it felt like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t died to protect him and he hadn’t buried her and they were as close to becoming something more as they had been before. He still let her take the lead. Would say goodbye at his front door or hers every evening with a hug that lingered a little too long and a promise to see each other tomorrow.

When she kissed him it was a reflection of the last time she had. A perfect parallel that somehow spoke of everything they’d been through and everything yet to come all at once. As soon as the kiss ended he asked her out, a question that had prompted laughter from her, her agreement to go out with him lost in between more kisses and her teasing of just how long have you been waiting to ask, as if she didn’t already have the answer.

She let him pick the restaurant, a glint in her eye he knew spelt trouble when she found out he’d chosen a French place she’d mentioned to him once. The moment she orders their food in French, switching easily between it and English as she asks him questions between listing items to the waiter, he knows he has lost the last piece of his self-control, his obsession with her exactly as she already was, every part of her perfect to him, bone-deep.

She’d taken him to her place afterwards, her smile uncharacteristically shy as she wrapped her hand around his and dragged him into her apartment. They barely made it inside before they were on each other, knocking into walls and counters as they finally gave in to everything they’d denied themselves for years, her belongings falling to the floor and left there, unimportant as they finally found each other. They’d explored each other slowly, taking time to learn the bodies they knew had changed since anyone else had last seen them, and when he fell asleep with her pressed up against him, her skin warm and sticky against his, he knew this had been his last first date.

“Are you watching me sleep?”

His eyes meet hers and he clears his throat, suppressing a smile as his cheeks burn with embarrassment at being caught out, “No.”

She smiles at him, her eyes still bleary from sleep, her hand uncoordinated as she pushes it against his cheek, forcing his head to move so she can kiss him, “Yes you are,” she says, kissing him again, “Creep.”

She presses herself closer to him, her face buried against his neck as she curls up on his chest, sighing contentedly as he runs his hand up and down her bare back, “Good morning, by the way.”

He feels her smile against his chest, something she chases with a kiss against the scar under her cheek, “Morning.”

He kisses the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo as his nose settles against her hair, and he lets his eyes drift shut. He makes sure that he takes it in, that he allows himself to enjoy this moment he’d wanted for years, something that, until recently, he thought he’d missed out on.

“What do you want to do today?” He asks, his breath skipping across her forehead, and she sighs contently, placing her hands on his chest and resting her chin on them, her smile soft as she looks up at him.

“Let you cook me breakfast,” she says, “Have sex. Sleep. Let you make me lunch. Have sex,” she smiles when he laughs, “Have a nap, let you cook me dinner, have sex-”

“I’m seeing a pattern emerging here,” he says, his touch turning insistent on her back, his palm slipping down to the globe of her ass.

She hums as she moves so she’s straddling his waist, her elbows on either side of his head as her face hovers over his, “This is one of the many reasons I find you so hot,” she says, her smile pressed against his, “You’re so smart.”

He pulls her into a kiss, swallowing her yelp when he rolls them, pressing her into the mattress before he sits up, “I’d better get started on your list of demands.”

She bites her lower lip as she sits up in bed, unashamedly letting the covers fall to her waist, “I bought what you need to make pancakes especially.”

He fakes outrage as he pulls on his boxers, “How did you know I’d put out on the first date?”

She winks at him, “I had a feeling,” she says, “Now go make some food. I’m starving.”

He leans down to kiss her one more time, “Yes sweetheart.”

As he walks to the kitchen, as relaxed as he’d ever been, he almost trips over something on the ground. He frowns curiously, the expression slowly giving way to a smile as he picks it up, a copy of David Copperfield, the cover of it far more worn than it had been the last time he’d seen it in her hospital room. His heart skips a beat as he imagines her in a nondescript apartment in Paris, the one connection she had left to him in her hands, reading it again and again until she felt somewhere close to home. He places it carefully on the side table it had clearly fallen from, his fingers lingering on the torn edges of the front cover, before he continues his journey to the kitchen.

He had pancakes to make.

___

Five

“I am far too tired for this shit.”

Aaron has to stop himself from laughing at his wife, knowing he’d be in trouble if she caught him. He presses his lips together to contain his smile before he turns to look at her, his efforts pointless as soon as he spots her on their newly delivered couch, half-laying, half-sitting on top of the plastic they still hadn’t removed from it, the box of books she was meant to be unpacking abandoned at her feet.

“We can take a break, sweetheart,” he says, walking over and joining her, the plastic crinkling under him as wraps his arm around her and drags her into his side, his hand resting on her bump, “Moving is hard even when you aren’t 6 months pregnant.”

She hums something he thinks is an agreement under her breath and she turns her head to press her face against his neck, “I’d go upstairs and nap but the bed frame isn’t coming until later,” she’s close to pouting when she pulls back to look at him, “And I think sleeping on the mattress on the floor is a little beyond me these days.”

He leans in and kisses her cheek before he does the same with her bump, laughing when their daughter kicks in response, and he comes up with a plan. He stands up and offers her his hand, “Stand up for a minute.”

She huffs, “Honey-”

“Just a minute okay,” he says, taking both of her hands and helping her up, “Then you can have your nap.”

She nods, her hands on her belly as she chases the movement of their little girl. She watches as Aaron makes quick work of pulling the plastic off the couch, her lips pressed together to cover a laugh as he curses under his breath when a piece of it is particularly stubborn. He disappears from the room for a few seconds to grab a couple of throw cushions and a blanket from where they were piled up in the foyer, and he smiles when he walks back in, almost tripping over a box in the entryway. The house was a mess, their belongings strewn everywhere as they tried to make it a home, and he was grateful that Jack was with Jessica as they tried to get the bulk of it done.

“Here we are,” he says, placing two cushions down on the couch before he grabs her hand, guiding her over, “Now you can nap.”

She shakes her head lovingly as he helps arrange one of the cushions under her head and the other under her bump, providing the support she now couldn’t sleep without. He’s about to step away when she grabs his hand, her smile sleepy and soft and impossible to say no to as she looks up at him.

“Sit with us for a little bit?”

He nods and slips under her head as she sits up just enough for him to do so, the cushion on his lap and her head on the cushion as she resettles, She curls her hand around his knee, anchoring herself to him as she sighs contentedly, her thumb moving back and forth over the rough material of his jeans.

“Better?” He asks, his hand landing in her hair, his short nails scratching against her scalp.

“Much,” she replies, turning her head just enough to press a kiss to his clothed leg, “Baby girl and I sleep much better with you around.”

He smiles, the hand not tangled in her hair resting on her bump, feeling the almost constant movement of their little girl. Sometimes it hit him how close he’d come to having none of this, how close he’d come to missing out on her. His wife. The love of his life and mother of his children. It seemed impossible to think about and he shook it off every time he was haunted by the what-ifs of a different life he had no interest in.

“We really need to come up with a name,” he says, continuing the gentle scratching of her scalp, feeling her grip on his knee loosening already as she started to be lulled to sleep, “Even if baby girl was an option, Garcia and Morgan have ruined it for me.”

She laughs, the sound a huff as it escapes her, her words slightly slurred as they follow, “We have time.”

He leans down to kiss her cheek, not caring that the angle is awkward and his back twinges, “We have plenty of time, sweetheart,” he kisses her cheek again, “Get some sleep.”

He sits there for a while, his girls safe and relaxing in his arms, before he decides to carry on unpacking their things, wanting to have made some progress by the time she wakes up so she feels less overwhelmed when she does. He slips out from under her lap, smiling when she doesn’t even flinch. Her snores, which were louder these days because of her pregnancy, never stopping for a moment. He places the cushions under her head and adjusts the blanket around her before he gets back to making their house a home.

He’s halfway through putting some of her books on the inbuilt shelves she’d fallen in love with when they viewed the house when a piece of paper flutters out from the pages of one of them. He bends down, his back twinging again from a long day of lifting boxes, and he pauses before he touches it, a laugh of disbelief as he picks up the receipt he’d slipped in between the very pages of the book in his other hand years ago. He’d had no idea she’d kept it, or how it had survived this long, the ink from the years old coffee order almost faded to the point where it was unreadable, but he finds himself falling all the more in love with her, something that always seemed impossible until it happened.

He looks over at her, his chest tight with love as he watches her sleep for a moment before he carefully slips the receipt back into the book and places it on the shelf. He knew if he mentioned it, if he brought up the sentimentality she only ever let him see, she’d be embarrassed.

He carries on unpacking their things, his future bright and clear and as beautiful as it had ever been.

___

+ One

She feels nothing short of relief wash over her as she pulls into the driveway, her smile soft as she spots the lights on in the living room, her husband having waited up for her. Emily loved girl's nights, and loved spending time with her friends, even if she was on virgin cocktails these days, but there was nothing quite like coming home to her family. She sighs as she unclips her seatbelt, taking the opportunity to rub a circle on her bump before she opens the door, groaning as she gets out of the car.

“Come on, sweet boy,” she says, her smile getting wider as the baby rolls under her skin, “Let’s go see what your brother and sister put Daddy through whilst we were gone.”

When she steps into the house, it’s quiet. She slips off her shoes and goes in search of her husband, feeling ridiculous for how much she’d missed him and the kids in the few short hours she’d been gone. She finds him in the living room, fast asleep in the armchair with their 3-year-old asleep in his arms, her cheek squished against his chest as he held her close even in his slumber, her favourite book open on the arm of the chair.

It was a rare treat for Emily to watch Aaron sleep. He was always awake before her, his eyes already open as he watched her wake up. It was something he’d done for as long as they’d been together and she found comfort in it, in the repetitive pattern she was once sure would drive her crazy. There was something extra special about watching him with their little girl safe and asleep in his arms, the solace she found there just another thing Clara had inherited from her mother.

Clara had them, and Jack, wrapped around her little finger since before she was born. She was a sweet little girl, and wilful and just about everything Emily’s own mother had always claimed was a fault in her. She’d grown up thinking they were bad things too, Elizabeth’s warnings of just wait until your daughter is just like you ringing in her ears until she started to see her little girl’s personality develop. Until she realised everything that had supposedly made her so difficult were traits she loved in Clara.

She knows that Clara would have begged Aaron to read her a story, her dark eyes wide as she looked up at him, a copy of her favourite book, The Nutcracker and the Four Realms, in her hands. It was a book they’d bought for Jack, a version of the novel for children, but the toddler had commandeered it the moment she knew she shared a name with the main character. She didn’t care that it was too old for her, or too late or far too early to read a Christmas book. She didn’t care that her parents only read her the first chapter on repeat, never going any further into the story. She loved it, claiming in her sweet voice that it was her book because there was a character in it she shared a name with. Wholly unaware that she was named after a Clara from an entirely different book that held more meaning to her parents than she’d likely ever understand, their love for the name outweighing the traits of the character they’d make sure to raise their girl to surpass.

She stands and looks at them for a moment, letting herself enjoy it and the relative peace that was rare in their home, well aware it was about to get rarer when their son was born. Emily wished she could go back to speak to her old self, to tell the version of her that had sat in a dark apartment in Paris that she’d have this one day. That she’d have a husband she loved more than she thought possible, a little girl, a son and another on the way. There were times when it felt too good to be true, like a dream. A moment in time that she was caught in that she never wanted to be free from.

Sometimes it was hard to get away from the thought of it, the fear that she’d wake up and all of this would be gone, but she knew it was real because her dreams had never been this kind to her. A mantra she’d repeat to herself again and again when the bad days rolled around.

She steps towards them and eases Aaron’s hand from Clara’s back, grunting as quietly as she can when she lifts her daughter into her arms, resting her on top of her bump.

“Em?” Aaron rasps out, his eyes half open when she looks at his face.

“It’s me, honey,” she says, smiling when he looks at her, “I’ll take her up.”

“I can take her,” he says, rubbing his eyes as he sits up, “I don’t want you to hurt your back.”

“I’ve got her,” she assures him, kissing him quickly as he stands up, his hand ghosting on her lower back, “I’ll meet you in our room?”

He nods, rubbing his eyes again as he half stumbles towards the stairs, and she knows he’ll be asleep again by the time she joins him.

She almost makes it to Clara’s room before the little girl wakes up, her grip on her shoulder the first sign she’s awake.

“Mama?”

“Yes baby,” she says, kissing the side of her head as she steps into the bedroom, knocking the light on with her elbow, “It’s Mama,” she sits down on the bed, and pulls back to look at her little girl, smiling at the sleepy look in her eyes, “You need to go back to sleep, okay?”

Clara grumbles around a yawn, fighting sleep even though she is halfway there, and it makes Emily laugh as she lays her down, tucking the covers around her, “Missed you.”

“I missed you too, sweet girl,” she says, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, running her knuckles over her daughter’s soft cheek, a trick that had lulled her into sleep since she was a tiny newborn, “I’ll be home all day tomorrow. I promise.”

Clara smiles, her eyes drifting shut, “Love you, Mama.”

The tears that press at the back of her eyes don’t surprise her, they’d stopped doing so a long time ago. She felt safe to feel everything here, and wanted her children to feel the same way too. She kisses Clara’s forehead again and breathes her in, the sweet scent of her no tears shampoo filling her senses.

“I love you too,” she replies, her knuckles still trailing a pattern on the toddler's cheek until she’s sure she’s asleep.

Emily sneaks out of the room quietly and checks in on a sleeping Jack on her way by his room. She smiles as she steps into the master bedroom and finds her husband asleep as predicted, his hand on her pillow, ready and waiting for her to slip into his embrace. She gets ready for bed quickly, keen to join the rest of her family in sleep.

When she wakes up in the morning, Aaron is watching her just like he always did, and she starts her day with a smile.

-x-

NOTE: Because of the time consuming nature of it, and tumblr being tumblr, instead of a tag list, going forward I would just encourage those who want to know when I'm posting to turn on post notifications <3

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #emily prentiss #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfiction

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tinkerbelldetective · 7 months

Text

You're still not sure how this works. You're 99% sure Rafael Barba is your soulmate, but the clock hasn't hit zero. You've met him, talked to him, and slid papers under his door for him to almost step on in the mornings or retrieve on late nights. But if the clock is still ticking, then you haven't met them, right? So, why do you feel safer when he's close by?

It's confusing. And you have no time for confusion about anything. Jack has delegated you second chair, one you are happy to accept. The case load is growing, the indictments issued flying from the clerk's office with increasing speed. You're issuing subpoenas left and right, searching records that go back so far you think you may have found the mythical lost pen an intern took from Paul Robinette because they were too chicken to ask him out so they settled for something he touched (or so you heard).

And Barba has hardly looked at you.

Olivia Benson had reassured you it was because the man is fiercely independent, not because he thought little of you. And while it helped, you couldn't help but grow saddened and irritated by the fact every interaction you shared with him was passing papers while he barely spared a glance.

The record in front of you is the biggest find yet. Unshredded and non-digitized remands. You're not sure how long you've been in this dusty old room, but it's worth it. You hop over the file boxes- you'll be back to fix them soon - and rush upstairs, aware you probably look like you've been crawling underneath a bed in a messy room, but this is it. The clincher. And you don't even care if he sees you looking dishelved, because this file is the red bow, the Michael Cutter homerun swing.

There's no dignity as you cross the threshold of his office, his brows raising as he pours his cup of coffee, your hands holding the file with such a tight grip he wonders how you haven't bent the folder.

"Rafael Barba, may I present four different remands and secret indictments. Done under suspicious circumstances and-" you flip through the file, finding the bright pink post it, "the other dismissed without prejudice."

The room slows, his eyes meeting yours with intensity. The clock on your wrist hits zero with an echoed final tock. You take a step closer, fiddling with the random thread on your sweater.

"I hoped it would be you."

He's quiet, placing his cup on the table before he takes the file out of your hands, fingers gently resting on your wrist, wordlessly asking for consent. You nod, watching with bated breath as he pushes the sleeve up just enough to see the fading clock.

"She always said it was the first time they see you not the first time you look," he murmers, thumb caressing your skin.

Barba's watching intently when you approach the stand, the evidence you either found or helped lead the way to balanced eaily in your hands despite the amount. The room grows quiet as you lay the receipts, the texts, fax confirmations, and signed agreements in front of the man on the stand.

"You weren't going to say this was a one-time deal, were you?"

Barba's hand lands at the small of your back as you descend the steps.

"Rafael," you begin, his first name foreign on your lips, "can I see your wrist?"

"It's zero."

You wrinkle your nose, halting at the bottom step.

"How long?"

"The day you met me."

"And mine just stopped?"

He frowns, removing his hand from your back to face you.

"Your dedication to justice, your determination, those became clear the minute you spent hours doing what someone else could have been doing. I saw you, and I knew." His hand cups your cheek fondly, brown eyes meeting yours, as if asking for permission. He presses his forehead to yours, lips barely grazing your own.

#rafael barba #my law and order: svu imagines #td rafael barba #rafael barba x reader

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greg-montgomery · 1 year

Note

Obsessed with the idea of you dating Aaron (and you don’t work for the BAU). As your relationship naturally progresses, you take on a pretty big part in caring for Jack while Aaron is away.

Since you know that Aaron doesn’t always get to spend as much with you and Jack as he would like, you’ve taken it upon yourself to send him updates throughout the day. Pictures of the two do you at the park and little messages like “I think jack has been hanging around Morgan too much. When I asked him what he wanted for dinner he told me we should just to the store and see what the vibes are.” Along with a photo of what you ultimately did end up making for dinner that night.

Maybe you’ll even send him some photos of yourself. Little reminders about how much you love and miss him and you’re proud of him.

Aaron loves it. It improves his mood. Makes him a little lighter throughout the day. Because of the nature of his job and how often he’s out in the field, he can’t always respond right away. But the little messages, those little pieces of home are such a balm and comfort to the horrors he’s often subjected to in the day. When he does has a moment - while the team is eating or on the jet, he’ll catch up on all the little bits he missed. He often worries about missing out on jack’s life. Not just the big events like holidays and birthdays but also just the little stuff. Seeing his sense of humor evolve, finding out what he likes and dislikes, growing his own personality. So he loves the little bits he gets from you. It’s his daily affirmation that there’s more to life than just the sickness he sees all day long. Outside of being “hotch” and “unit chief” he’s also just Aaron. He’s a father to a sweet little boy that loves superheroes and soccer. He’s a boyfriend to a wonderful partner that he loves. it’s his little reminder that makes the hard days and the most grueling cases worth it. He’ll tell himself- You’re doing this for them. So the people you love can live In a safer world. You couldn’t make the world safer for Haley, but you can still do it for them.

But maybe one day - someone makes a quip to you about how often you’re messaging him. “He’s got a lot on his plate you know. Don’t you think that’s a distraction from his job? I’m just saying it seems pretty clingy to me.”

And it works it way into your brain and makes you self conscious. Are you being too clingy? Are you the desperate girlfriend that can’t tell when she’s overstayed her welcome? When you look back on your messages, you do have to admit that it seems like a lot.

So you back off.

Aaron has been zoned in on the case, working against the clock to save lives that he didn’t realize the lack of buzzing throughout the day. When he gets back to the hotel and doesn’t see a single message from you, it concerns him. Obviously, he worries for your safety. It’s not like you to not talk to him at all. What if you’re hurt? He sends a quick message, not wanting to cause alarm even though his heart rate has increased exponentially.

“Everything alright, honey?”

Your reply is short. “Yeah. We’re all good here!”

His brows furrow at this. It seems odd to him but he tries to calm himself down. No pictures. No little updates on what you did today. He figures if there’s anything truly wrong, any danger, you surely would say something. Maybe you and Jack are just really tired - maybe you went to the park or went swimming or something.

The next day, you send a photo of Jack on a Pokémon Go walk in the neighborhood, face scrunched in concentration while he tries to catch a mewtwo. It helps calm his nerves. This was a good sign, things were probably going back to normal.

But then the third day - it’s radio silence again. He can’t help his thoughts turning the whole situation inwardly on himself. Were you getting bored with him? Maybe you were getting frustrated with the fact that he was away and you seemed to play nanny to his kid more than being an actual girlfriend.

He calls you but you insist on everything is fine. You’re just a little tired or you and Jack didn��t really do anything interesting that day so there wasn’t much to share. Aaron slightly rolls his eyes at this. There isn’t anything that you could do that he wouldn’t find fascinating. He tells you this but you seem to just brush it off.

He’s good at what he does and he can tell there’s more than what you’re telling him but you keep insisting everything is fine and his own insecurities that he’s built up over the last couple cause him to drop the subject. He doesn’t want to push and potentially make anything worse.

When the case is finally wrapped and the team makes their way back home, they can tell something has gotten under hotch’s skin. Their normally stoic boss is wiggling around in his seat like his ass is on fire. It was a bad case and maybe he’s just on edge from the brunt of it all.

One thing they aren’t used to seeing though, is him there alongside the rest of them, going home at a normal hour. They can’t help but tease him about the whole affair, “I guess there’s a certain special someone that you can’t wait to get home to, huh hotch?” He chuckles along with them but secretly his only hope is that there still is a special someone waiting for him when he gets there.

When he does walk through the door, the first thing he notices is the emptiness and the quiet. His heart sinks. On autopilot, he moves to your shared bedroom and he instead of you, he finds all of the bedsheets missing, the closet door open and your suitcase missing from the spot on the top shelf.

No. No. No. he panics. You packed up. You left. He stumbles out of the bedroom, calling out your name, calling out jack’s. His voice cracking. He hears a door open down the hall and there’s his son. “Dad! Come here” he tried to brace himself for what he might find. Jack looks physically fine, no immediate signs of distress. When he finally makes it, he sees you huddled up under a blanket fort, popcorn and chocolate and stuffed animals tucked underneath the mountain of blankets. And your suitcase. With the handle extended to hold up the weight of the sheets above it. He breathes a sigh of relief. You haven’t left. You built a blanket fort with jack.

you finally do talk about it - after Jack has crashed from the sugar high. When he asks you what’s wrong, he’s not prepared when you say, “I’m a burden to you, Aaron.”

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?” He can’t hide his shock. So you’re blurting it all out to him. He’s Confused. Kinda pissed about the whole event. How dare someone make you feel like you and his son are an annoyance to him in any way? His sweet little family that he loves and adores. You have an understanding, especially after Haley, he doesn’t want to miss out on his life anymore and if that means 2,000 texts a day then he will hand his entire salary over to his phone company to make it happen. He loves that you don’t try to make him feel bad for being away, you understand how much he loves the team and you love seeing him work. But you also know that his family means the would to him too and the fact that you’re willing to accommodate that isn’t something you should ever feel ashamed of. He’ll spend the whole night proving it to you.

THE ANGST IN THIS IS DELICIOUS 😫

aaron loves your little texts and updates during the day 🥺 he loves seeing your face and his son’s light up the screen of his phone! it’s what keeps him going when a case gets too much. it’s what he looks at when he feels disappointed in the world :(

so when you stopped doing it, a weight was suddenly placed on his chest. tbh he probably got flashbacks from all the fights he had with haley about his job :(( so he’s terrified history will repeat itself :(

meanwhile you’re also very :(( bc you’re worried that this random person was right and maybe you did annoy aaron with all your texts and updates. you know he loves you but you’re worried that he doesn’t have the time or energy during his very important job to care about your silly messages.

and aaron coming home and freaking out you left 🥺 i know the tears were in the corners of his eyes ready to spill :((( all these coincidences were just too cruel.

but when he finds you and jack simply having the time of yours lives he feels such a sweet relief! bc you’re still there and you love him <333

when you talk about it you agree that the messages not only aren’t gonna stop they’re gonna be even more frequent now 🤭🤭 and you also promise you’ll never let another person affect you with words like these. aaron loves you more than anything!! and you should not believe anyone but the man you adore <3 so when he says he loves you and your little messages, it’s true 🥹💞

#anon i loved this :(( you basically wrote a fic in my inbox youre so iconic for that #thank you for sharing it with me!!!! i love this type of angst 🥰#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner #hotch 🪐#ask

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harlowsbby · 1 year

Text

Good Off You

You’ve been feeling empty within your relationship with Jack as of lately all it seemed like the two of you did was argue about the same things.

It was always about Mia she was one of his close friends from Atlanta he swore up and down like a sailor that she wasn’t someone you had to worry about but if that was the case how come you felt as if you needed to worry.

This relationship was starting to feel very much one sided or that there was a disconnect and that disconnect was coming from Jack, you weren’t sure how you were going to fix your relationship with Jack or if it was even worth saving at this point.

————————————————————————

“What’s going on with you two? According to Nemo, Jack’s been at his house all week.”

You called Neelam earlier that day telling her you needed to get out of the house you didn’t care where the two of you went you just needed time away from that house.

“Did he lie and say that I was the one that kicked him out the house?” Neelam was quiet you chuckled and rolled your eyes. “You see what I mean he’s always playing this pick me role and acting like I’m the problem when it’s really him.” You defended yourself.

“What’s even going on? I don’t even know the full story.” The last you wanted to do was bring everyone into your relationship you hated having people in your business but you trusted Neelam.

“You know Mia right?” She nodded her head. “Yeah I know Mia.”

You sighed heavily, “Lately I just don’t.. I don’t know he’s been talking to her a lot more and you know I’ve always had weird feelings about her from the start and Jack always told me I didn’t have to worry about her but now.” You paused. “I’m starting to worry about her.”

You didn’t want your relationship with Jack to end this way you didn’t want to be the one being cheated on. You thought he loved you at least that’s what he said and made you believe and feel. You always had this feeling that deep down Jack wasn’t really yours like that because he always had Mia.

“What was your last argument about? If you don’t mind me asking because he told Nemo that you kicked him out.” You huffed and looked at her. “About Mia.”

A few days ago

“Why is she texting you at Damn 2am in the morning huh? That’s all I want to know and you’re beating around the fucking bush with your answer dammit!” It was 2am in the morning and while you’d much rather be fast asleep in bed instead you were up arguing with Jack.

“I told you it’s nothing just drop it already would you.” He snapped back and snatched his phone from your grasp. “No I won’t just drop it because it doesn’t make sense as to why she’s calling you this fucking late.”

He ignored you and kept texting away on his phone probably responding back to Mia no doubt. “Are you even listening to me?” He scoffed and looked up at you his blue eyes that you once fell in love with were now filled with what seemed to be hatred and irritation. “You’re talking aren’t you? You know I can’t deal with this tonight Y/N.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together wondering where he was going. “Where are you going?” You watched as he got up and grabbed his keys and wallet. “Jack? Where are you going.” You walked over to him and grabbed his hand trying to pull him into you but he shook you off.

“I’m going to Nemo’s for a bit I think some time apart will do us some good.” He stated with no emotion whatsoever. “Are you kidding me right now?” You scoffed and shook your head at him.

“Honestly I can’t believe you right now you’d rather walk out than just tell me the truth.” He raised his eyebrows. “The truth on what? I told you nothing is going on better Mia and Myself, I’m sorry you’re just so insecure and can’t handle the fact that I have female friends.” He spat.

You were taken back by his response never in your entire time of being with Jack has he ever said something like that to you or even spoke to you that way. “Fine just go.” You whispered and hugged yourself and looked down at the ground, you knew if you were to make eye contact you’d break down crying instantly.

“I’ll see you around Y/N.” When the door was closed you finally let your tears fall you cried the entire night till you cried yourself to sleep.

Current time

“He said all that to you? I can’t even believe it.” Neelam was in disbelief she never thought in a million years would Jack ever talk to someone he claimed he loved like that.

“Yeah he said all of that and I haven’t heard from him since. I just hate the way I know he’s sleeping with her but he won’t admit it.” You just wanted him to be honest with you even if the truth hurt.

The two of you decided to sit at the park you on one swing and Neelam on the other, the two of you sat on the swings just watching the sunset.

“What should I do? Do I just break up with him or do I stay with him.” You mumbled and fiddled with the hem of your hoodie.

“I’d hate to see the two of you break up but you know what sometimes you gotta make a decision that breaks your heart but gives you peace.” Neelam told you.

You knew this wasn’t going to be easy because you loved Jack you were honestly afraid to find a new love after Jack because you felt as if all guys were going to be the same.

————————————————————————

“Let’s go Y/N the Uber is already outside waiting on us!” Neelam yelled from the bottom of the stairs the two of you were going to Ace’s rooftop party he was celebrating the release of his newest solo project, you knew Jack was going to be there so you decided to dress up a bit tonight just to show him what he was missing.

You twirled around a few times making sure your outfit looked good. You grabbed your purse and headed downstairs where Neelam stood. “It’s about damn time the guy was threatening to leave.” You put your hands up in defense. “Sorry I had to make sure I looked good.”

“Whatever let’s just get going before Urban and Sunni eat up all the food.” The car ride to the hotel was fairly short so you made it under 10 minutes.

When you made it to the top of the roof you immediately when to the edge of the building and took in the beauty of Downtown Louisville at night, there was a few fireworks going off in the distance and a few people down below just laughing and having a good time but the moon is what caught your eye.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You rolled your eyes open hearing that familiar voice. “It is beautiful now what do you want.”

“Can you at least look at me.” You took a second trying your best to prepare yourself you turned around slowly and was met face to face with Jack. He licked his lips as he looked you up and down. “You look good as always baby.”

“Thanks.” You both stood there awkwardly you didn’t really know what to say I mean the last time the two of you tried talking it resulted in a argument. “Look I’m sorry for what I said what I said was wrong.” “You think? You hurt my feelings Jack.”

He licked his lips and sighed. “I know I did and I’m sorry baby I don’t wanna lose you I promise I’m done talking to Mia.” You raised your eyebrow at him. “Oh really? And what made you stop taking to her.”

“Because I’d rather have a life with you than live a life without you.” He stated. “Really?” You whispered and sniffled which made Jack laugh.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting all soft and shit now.” He stuck his arms out and you quickly ran into his arms, he grinned and wrapped his arms around you tight and started swinging the two of you back and forth.

“I love you so much baby.” “I love you too Jack.”

You both pulled away from each other and Jack looped his hands with yours. “Let’s go enjoy tonight yeah?” You smiled and nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Halfway through the party a majority of the people there ended up passing out on some of the chairs or couches Ace had gotten for the event. Jack was a bit tipsy himself he laid on the couch with a drunken Urban laying next to him, you couldn’t find your phone at all so you needed to use Jack’s.

The music was still going though considering a good majority of people were still dancing and eating.

“Jack, let me see your phone I need to call my phone.” You rushed him he took his phone out his pocket and handed it to you. “Here babe you know the password yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah I know it I’ll be right back.” He nodded and you stepped off to the side and unlocked his phone you went to press the call button next to your contact when you noticed Jack had about 25 missed texts and 3 missed calls.

You looked behind you making sure he was still on the couch before clicking onto the messages.

“What the hell.” You frowned seeing all the messages were from Mia, all of them saying how she misses him and wonders when he’s leaving the party soon.

“So he wasn’t with Nemo.” You mumbled to yourself you looked back over at Jack who was now dozing off on the couch you shook your head and bit your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, you looked back down at the phone when it buzzed again.

Mia 💘

‘Did you tell her you’re breaking up with her yet? She needs to know the truth’

You knew texting her back and making her believe that you were Jack was wrong but you needed to know what truth she was talking about.

Jack 🩵

‘What do I even say’

Your heart started beating when you saw the three little dots appearing on the screen but then they disappeared again.

“Fuck I knew she wasn’t gon-.” You stopped talking mid sentence when she texted back.

Mia 💘

‘Just tell her straight up that I’m pregnant and that you’re leaving her to raise a family with me obviously, your kid needs you Jack.’

You knew it even though you knew that he was cheating on you with her it still hurt it hurt even more that she was having a baby with a man you once loved, with the man you swore you were going to spend forever with, with the man who told you that she wasn’t anybody to worry about but turns out she was somebody to worry about.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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donnabenevientosimpingzone · 7 months

Note

Could we get a little Beneviento sisters x reader fic please? A little treat

- simp anon

Ahaha I should change this blog to just Beneviento simping zone, I’ve made so many people love Bernadette and Claudia, and I’m so glad they’re getting so much love<3

How about a little dinner time with them?

Dinner time was always the highlight of the day. After a morning of waking up- watching all three of your girlfriends practically tripping over themselves to get to work and joining whichever you were scheduled to be with that day to the very end- coming home to that relief of spending time together as a family was always worth every bitter bead of sweat that rolled down your face. It also helped that cooking dinner together was a major love language for the Benevientos, and while you could never match up to their culinary mastery, you could help out.

This evening, though, you were standing aside while Donna attended to the stove and Claudia set the oven. Bernadette was expertly cutting sheets of pasta, and everyone seemed to be so in sync to the unspoken agreement that lasagna was for dinner. There seemed to be little room for you to lend a helping hand, however, that didn’t stop you from hovering around just in case.

“How was helping Bernadette in the garden today?” The question came from Donna’s lips as she passed by you, pausing just long enough to press her cheek into your shoulder like a cat marking her territory.

“Hot.” You replied without thinking, earning a loud snort from Claudia, reminding you of her gutter-mind. You roll your eyes despite the forming grin across your lips. “Temperature hot, Claudia.”

“Sure.” Claudia replies with a smirk after sticking out her tongue at you. She lets out a few snickers as you give her a wink, earning an audible sigh from the oldest sister. Bernadette shares a look with Donna as the youngest sister is cutting carrots to add to the vegetable stir-fry still in progress on the stove.

“They were wonderful help.” Bernadette states as she steps aside, letting Claudia take over layering the lasagna and putting it into the oven. Her hands find an abandoned hand towel, and the fingers hook on the fabric to wipe off whatever edible debris clung to their pores. “Got a little too distracted with the hose though.”

“To be fair, you were flexing.” You counter, earning a Cheshire smile from the oldest sister as she leans back on her elbows against the counter.

“I was using the wheelbarrow, dolcezza.”

A hot blush starts to form across your cheeks as the Italian rolls along Bernadette’s deep voice like melted metal in a mold. No matter how often the Benevientos spoke their mother tongue to you, it still had you rather frazzled hearing it every damn time.

“You didn’t drown the tulips, did you?” Donna’s voice breaks you out of it, and you frantically shake your head to deny the idea.

“No!” You chirp, your blush darkening now in embarrassment as the dollmaker quirks a brow at you. “I just- uh…”

“Lemme guess.” Claudia says, shutting the oven to emphasize her voice. “You made another pond in the middle of some random plot of dirt Bernadette was preparing to plant.”

Now your face is scolding, and you groan- hiding the hue in your hands- unable to escape the situation now. A round of endearing giggles go around the kitchen as the sisters coo at your adorable display, making it easy to accept your embarrassment and giggle, raising your head from the grasps of your fingers. It’s true that you weren’t as skilled as the sisters in their respective fields. Compared to them, you were decent at things, but knew a lot of skills- a bit of a jack-of-all-trades- but the trade-off was that you didn’t have astonishing knowledge in anything. Well, at least the things the Beneviento sisters were into.

Bernadette was the easiest to work with. You liked days with her a lot, even if it was going to be physically demanding. The oldest sister with her psychology background and job as a therapist meant that she almost always seemed to know what was spiraling in your head, with the patience of a thousand gods, and her choice words always made your chest burst with warmth and eyes explode with grateful tears. If the two of you weren’t labouring away in the gardens around the manor, you were venting your woes to each other somewhere in the forest.

Claudia was the next easiest to work with. She worked as the village doctor and was overflowing with altruism. She fortunately had the energy to match such a demanding job, and most of the time you were basically there to deliver supplies and check inventory, on rare occasions you would help with treatments. Due to the nature of her job, Claudia has a pretty no-bullshit attitude during work, which tends to give you whiplash compared to her silly personality at home. Just another quirky facet of her that you’ve fallen in love with over the years.

Unfortunately, as much as you simply adored spending time with Donna, you were pretty useless when it came to helping her make dolls. Much of the time you were there to parallel work together, or to keep Angie entertained. Nevertheless, the system you both figured out is one that you look forward to each time, and if things get done sooner… well-

“Hey.” Claudia’s voice snaps you out of your wandering thoughts, and you blink back to reality to see her waving a hand in your face. “Back to Earth, idiota.”

She snaps her fingers at you, throwing her arm in various directions as she does so, making you laugh.

“Okay, okay! Back to Earth, I’m back to Earth-” You reassure, raising your hands in surrender as Claudia chuckles, flicking your forehead.

“I’m surprised the gravity can hold down your air head.” Claudia jests, giving your cheek a quick peck before slinking away down the halls. You watch her go, rubbing the spot where her lips graced your skin with a dreamy smile, turning your attention back to the other two.

Donna had finished her dish and was helping Bernadette set the table. The dollmaker gestures for you to sit down and begin eating while the lasagna cooks in the oven, and you happily stride over to the chair. Bernadette takes a seat across from you, sipping her tea while Donna pours your cup.

“Thank you, beautiful.” You praise, raising a hand to cup the dollmaker’s cheek. She leans into the touch with a smile, almost purring as she soaked in your affection like a sponge. The moment doesn’t last long, as Donna pulls away quickly to pour tea for herself, but little moments like that feel so much longer. They replay in your head often. Gosh her smile really did things to your brain chemistry.

The three of you begin treating the vegetable dish and cups of tea while making small talk. It starts with a simple discussion on what the plans were for tomorrow, and derailed into various other topics that somehow managed to come up. Sometimes Bernadette and Donna would exchange words in Italian, bits and pieces you’d recognize, but not enough to piece together what they were talking about. One time, Donna said something that made Bernadette laugh, and you laughed at Donna’s shocked expression. You had said something to affectionately tease her, and Donna stopped chewing her food to stare daggers at you. It would have been scary, if one of her cheeks wasn’t swollen with food like a little chipmunk, making you laugh harder.

The moment is broken when there’s a sudden loud crash in the distance. All conversation comes to a screeching halt as the thud echoes vaguely in the large manor. A moment of silence passes before a loud “DONNNNNNNNNNNNNNA!!” howls across the estate in Claudia’s voice. On cue, Donna sets down her tea and stands up from her chair- the back of her knees pushing it back with a sound of wood scraping on wood- flattening her dress with a brisk few brushes of her hands.

“I’ll be excusing myself.” She says with a huge, shit-eating grin, walking away with a fast clop-clop of her heeled boots.

You and Bernadette share smiles as there’s the sound of approaching footsteps, only a moment later with Claudia bursting into the kitchen, torso soaked.

“Where’d she go?!” The middle child demands, moving wet strands of hair out of her eyes.

“She excused herself.” Bernadette states while taking a sip of her tea. You reaffirm the statement with a nod of your head. Claudia growls and stomps through the room in the direction Donna disappeared down, plotting her prank to get back at the youngest sister.

Once all was silent again, Bernadette took another sip of tea.

“You got plans tonight?” She pipes up towards you, and you shake your head in response. “Donna was asking me if she could have time with you tonight, before you go with Claudia tomorrow.”

“Hm? Oh sure, what for?” You inquire, shoving vegetables in your mouth. You had begun chewing them until Bernadette gave you a sultry smile, causing your mastication to slow until it stopped, paralyzed and unable to swallow.

Now you know what it was. Earlier Bernadette had taken you against a tree when the two of you were supposed to be trimming bushes, and earlier than that Claudia had to do the laundry in the morning after she woke you up with choice placement of her hands.

Right as you were thinking about the evening with Donna, the oven beeps, and Bernadette brightens out of her darkened gaze to an almost child-like grin.

“Be a dear and fetch the others for dinner.” She says, and you’ve finally found the strength to swallow, nodding as you stand up and head in the direction the other two did earlier. You also make a mental note to find Angie, who must still be napping after being continuously interrupted by a “busy” night.

#ask #resident evil village #resident evil #donna beneviento #claudia beneviento #bernadette beneviento #donna x reader #claudia x reader #bernadette x reader #fanfic

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