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kiwriteswords · 26 days ago

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Hi Ki! Could I get an Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Reader fic, where maybe she LOVES christmas and he's sorta grumpy about the whole thing and she really changes him!

A Season of Sunshine

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Female!Reader||Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: 5+1, Christmas, Sunshine Reader, fluff, mentions of grief, mentions of holiday sadness, mentions of alcohol in social setting, legit tooth-rotting fluff, slow burn, no use of Y/N.

Sypnosis: 5 times reader brought sunshine to Aaron Hotchner around the holidays, +1 time Hotch brought sunshine to her.

Aaron Hotchner observed you from across the bullpen, your laughter ringing out like a bright bell amidst the quiet hum of clicking keyboards and murmured conversations.

The first snow of December swirled gently outside the frosted windows, a backdrop to your seemingly boundless energy. You were leaning over a desk, cheerfully handing out small, festively wrapped candy canes to your teammates.

You looked so happy. That was the thought that lingered in Hotch’s mind as he watched you move from desk to desk, your smile contagious enough to soften even the usually stoic faces of Rossi and Morgan.

“You’re going to give me a cavity, Sunshine,” Morgan teased as you placed a candy cane on his keyboard.

“That’s what dentists are for,” you replied with a wink, earning a chuckle from him.

Hotch’s lips twitched, but the smile never fully formed. It was a rare thing for him these days, and while he appreciated your attempts to brighten the team’s spirits, he couldn’t help but question how someone who dealt with the kind of darkness their job revealed could remain so light—so...sunny.

The holidays were always difficult. For everyone. Suicide rates spiked, depression deepened, and grief—a familiar companion for Hotch—seemed sharper in the winter cold. He thought about Jack, about the guilt that came with knowing his son’s memories of Christmases past were punctuated by his absence, his work always pulling him away.

And then there was you. The newest member of the team. This was your first Christmas with the BAU, and you’d already brought in a small, sparkling tree to decorate the corner of the bullpen, strung colorful lights across your desk, and started an advent calendar that you insisted everyone participate in. You’d even convinced Penelope to wear a reindeer headband, complete with jingle bells that she delighted in shaking whenever someone passed her office.

“Hotch?”

Your voice startled him from his thoughts. He realized belatedly that you were standing in front of his desk, holding out a candy cane with a hopeful smile. Up close, you were radiant, your eyes sparkling with holiday cheer.

“For me?” he asked dryly, glancing at the candy cane as though it might be a trap.

“Of course. Everyone gets one,” you said, placing it neatly beside his coffee mug. “It’s peppermint. Good for focus.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. There’s research on it and everything,” you replied, as though your enthusiasm alone could make it true. You lingered a moment, tilting your head to study him. “You’re not much of a Christmas person, are you?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied carefully.

“But you wouldn’t say you are one, either,” you countered, your smile never faltering. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix that.”

And with that, you were gone, leaving him with the candy cane and a faint scent of pine and vanilla trailing in your wake. Hotch’s gaze followed you as you returned to your desk, now chatting animatedly with JJ about the best Christmas movies.

He shook his head slightly, turning back to the stack of case files in front of him. Fix that, you’d said. As if he were some project in need of holiday spirit. He supposed he should’ve been annoyed, but there was something about your relentless optimism that he found...endearing.

Over the next few days, your efforts to “fix” him grew more deliberate. A holiday playlist softly played in the background of the bullpen, courtesy of you and Garcia. You organized a Secret Santa exchange, somehow roping even the most reluctant members of the team into participating. When the team went out for an after-hours dinner, you’d insisted on ordering hot cocoa for everyone, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows.

It was infectious, your enthusiasm. Even Hotch, who prided himself on his unshakable focus, found himself humming along to a Christmas tune as he reviewed case notes late one evening. He stopped mid-hum, frowning. You’d gotten to him.

By the time the team’s annual holiday gathering rolled around, Hotch couldn’t deny the shift in the atmosphere. The bullpen felt lighter, more alive, and the credit undeniably belonged to you. Yet, he still struggled to reconcile how you could be so bright amidst the shadows they encountered daily.

That evening, after most of the team had left, Hotch found himself standing by the small tree you’d brought in. The lights twinkled warmly, and a single wrapped present with Jack’s name sat underneath. You’d insisted on helping him pick out something special for his son, your genuine excitement rivaling that of any child on Christmas morning.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He turned to find you standing beside him, your coat draped over your arm.

“It is,” he admitted quietly.

“I know this time of year can be hard,” you said softly, your voice losing some of its usual buoyancy. “But it can also be really beautiful, in its own way.”

Hotch studied you for a long moment, taking in the sincerity in your expression. “How do you do it?” he asked finally. “Stay so…”

“Happy?” you finished for him, smiling faintly. “I’m not always happy, Hotch. But I try to focus on the good things, especially when the world feels dark. It helps.”

“Focus on the good things,” he repeated, almost to himself. His gaze shifted back to the tree, the warm glow of the lights reflecting in his eyes.

“Exactly. Like candy canes and Christmas trees,” you teased gently, nudging his arm.

For the first time in a long while, Hotch allowed himself a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected gratitude. “For what?”

“For reminding me.”

You tilted your head, your smile widening as you replied, “Anytime, Boss.”

And for the first time, Aaron Hotchner found himself looking forward to Christmas.

II.

Aaron Hotchner stood in the corner of David Rossi's cozy living room, a glass of sparkling water in hand. The house was warm and bright, filled with the soft glow of Christmas lights and the hum of cheerful conversation. Children’s laughter rang out from the area near the tree, where Jack, Henry, and Michael were busy examining their gifts while Savannah held baby Hank on her lap, cooing softly to him.

Hotch’s gaze drifted to you, as it often did these days. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor with Jack, helping him assemble a toy airplane with nimble fingers and endless patience. Jack’s face was lit with excitement as he explained the steps in his careful, deliberate way, and you listened with an encouraging smile. Occasionally, you glanced up to share a warm look or quick comment with the adults nearby, your laughter soft and genuine.

You looked so happy. And watching you, Hotch felt something he couldn’t quite name. Warmth, perhaps, or an ache just beneath it.

It had been over a year since you joined the team, and in that time, you’d become the one person who could cut through his carefully guarded exterior. You had a way of disarming him with your relentless optimism, your knack for seeing light in the darkest moments. He’d felt it most acutely during the holidays, when the weight of loss and responsibility pressed hardest against him. Somehow, you always managed to draw him out, to remind him that there was still beauty in the world.

“Dad!” Jack called, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Look at this!”

Hotch stepped closer to the group, bending down as Jack held up the half-assembled airplane. “That’s impressive,” he said, his voice warm. “You’ve got a good helper.”

“Your dad’s just saying that because I haven’t broken anything yet,” you teased, glancing up at Hotch with a grin. There was a faint blush on your cheeks—likely from the eggnog you’d been enjoying—and your eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Not yet,” Hotch replied, his lips twitching into a rare smile.

You gasped in mock offense, your laughter bubbling up. “I’ll have you know, I am an expert toy assembler. Just ask Henry.”

Henry, who was sitting nearby, nodded sagely. “She’s really good,” he said, earning a chuckle from the adults.

As the evening wore on, the children settled into a quieter rhythm, playing together under Savannah’s watchful eye. The adults moved to the kitchen, chatting over mulled wine and eggnog. You lingered by the doorway for a moment before making your way toward Hotch, who had retreated to the quieter edge of the room.

“You’re hiding,” you said, your tone light but teasing.

“Just taking a moment,” he replied, glancing down at you. You’d swapped your eggnog for water, but the slight sway in your stance betrayed your earlier indulgence.

“It’s Christmas,” you said softly. “No moments allowed. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” he said, and it surprised him how true it felt.

You studied him for a moment, your smile softening. “Good. You deserve it.”

The warmth in your voice unsettled him, and yet he couldn’t look away. You had a way of seeing him that no one else did, peeling back the layers he worked so hard to maintain. It was disarming, intoxicating, and he didn’t know whether to thank you or guard himself more fiercely.

“You’re good at this,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Bringing people together. Making them feel…better.”

You tilted your head, your expression turning thoughtful. “I try. It’s not always easy, though. Especially with you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you said, your eyes brightening again. “And you should also consider letting yourself enjoy things a little more. Just a thought.”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he replied, and the soft, teasing edge in his tone made your smile widen.

For a moment, it was just the two of you, the sounds of the party fading into the background. You looked up at him with an openness that made his chest tighten, and he found himself wondering—not for the first time—how someone like you had ended up here, in a world so often filled with darkness.

“Merry Christmas, Hotch,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that lingered long after you’d turned to rejoin the group.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. And for the first time in years, he meant it.

III.

Aaron Hotchner stared out the window of the small motel room, the cheap curtains drawn back to reveal the dim glow of Christmas lights strung up on a nearby house. It was the only reminder of the holiday, a faint glimmer of cheer amidst the grim reality of their current case. His reflection stared back at him in the glass, tired and drawn, the weight of the day etched into the lines of his face.

The case was bad—one of the worst. Children were involved, and they were short-staffed, with JJ staying behind to be with Henry and Michael. Hotch had insisted on it, even though it meant carrying the guilt of being away from Jack. Jack, who was now old enough to understand that his father’s work sometimes came before everything else. Old enough to feel the sting of his absence.

The thought gnawed at him, a sharp pang that had been with him all day. This was a Christmas Jack might remember—one of the few left before he stopped believing in the magic of the holiday. And Hotch wasn’t there. He should’ve been there.

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He turned, half expecting Morgan or Rossi, but it was you. You stood there with a small smile, a wrapped package tucked under one arm. Your presence alone was a balm, a brief respite from the heaviness that seemed to cling to him.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your voice quiet but warm. You weren’t your usual bubbly self tonight—the weight of the case had tempered your sunshine—but there was still a light in your eyes that seemed undimmed.

He nodded, stepping back to let you in. You placed the package on the small table near the window, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned to face him.

“I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend Christmas,” you said softly, your gaze steady on his. “But I thought maybe we could try to make it feel a little more like home.”

Hotch felt his throat tighten as you handed him the gift, your smile tinged with something tender. He unwrapped it carefully, his fingers brushing against the edges of the frame as he revealed the photo inside. It was a candid shot of him and Jack, taken during one of their rare moments of unguarded joy. Jack was laughing, his arms thrown around his father’s neck, and Hotch’s own smile was wide and genuine—a version of himself he hardly recognized anymore.

“Where did you…” His voice faltered as he looked up at you.

“I snuck a photo of you two over the summer at the get-together Penelope hosted,” you admitted, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “I thought you might want something to remind you of him. Especially tonight.”

He swallowed hard, the emotion catching him off guard. “Thank you,” he said finally, his voice rough. “This means a lot.”

You smiled, that warm, gentle smile that always seemed to soften the edges of his world. “I’m glad.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the faint hum of the heater. Then Hotch cleared his throat, his gaze shifting back to you. “Would you…stay for a while?” he asked, surprising even himself. “I…I think I could use the company.”

Your smile widened, and you nodded. “I’d like that.”

The two of you settled on the edge of the bed, a small laptop propped between you as you queued up an old Christmas movie. The screen cast a soft glow over the room, the sound of holiday music mingling with the rustle of case files as you both worked quietly. Occasionally, you’d make a comment about the movie, drawing a rare chuckle from him, or he’d ask for your input on a theory for the case, your perspective always sharper than you gave yourself credit for.

As the hours passed, the weight on his chest seemed to lift, just a little. Your presence was steady, grounding, and he found himself watching you more than the screen. The way your eyes lit up during certain scenes, the way your laughter softened the edges of his grief, the way you leaned just slightly toward him, as though drawn by some invisible force.

Eventually, the movie ended, and the case files lay forgotten on the nightstand. You’d curled up on your side of the bed, your head resting on the pillow as sleep claimed you. Hotch sat beside you for a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of your breathing, the peaceful expression on your face.

Carefully, he slid down beside you, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him. As his eyes closed, the photo of Jack on the nightstand caught his gaze one last time. For the first time that day, he felt a flicker of peace.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured softly, the words barely audible in the quiet room. And for the first time in years, he meant it.

IV.

Aaron Hotchner adjusted his tie as he stepped into the bustling bullpen, the hum of holiday cheer filling the space. Twinkling lights wrapped around cubicle dividers, and Penelope Garcia had outdone herself again, transforming the office into a festive wonderland. The annual Christmas gathering was in full swing, and the team��his family, as much as he’d allow himself to admit it—were mingling, laughing, and enjoying the break from their usual grim reality.

He scanned the room automatically, his eyes landing on you. You were by the snack table, laughing with Morgan and JJ, your smile radiant under the soft glow of the holiday lights. You wore a deep green sweater that somehow managed to be both festive and professional, and your laughter, as always, was the kind of sound that warmed even the coldest corners of his heart. Jack adored you, the team adored you, and though he’d never said it aloud, Hotch knew you were the brightest part of his life. The thought lingered, unspoken but ever-present.

“Hotch, my man,” Morgan called, clapping him on the back. “Looking sharp as always. You’ve got to come try Garcia’s infamous eggnog. It’s got a kick that’ll put hair on your chest.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll pass.”

Morgan smirked but said nothing, his eyes flicking briefly toward you. Hotch didn’t miss the knowing glance, but he chose not to comment. The team had been teasing him for months now, their thinly veiled remarks about how well you two complemented each other becoming harder to ignore. And the truth was, they weren’t wrong. You were the sunshine to his shadow, and no matter how hard he tried to maintain his stoic demeanor, you always found a way to break through.

“Hotch, come here for a sec!” Penelope called, waving him toward the breakroom with an exaggerated flourish. Her excitement was suspicious, but he indulged her, weaving through the crowd of colleagues.

You were already there, standing by the counter with a cup of cocoa in hand, your head tilting in curiosity when you saw him approach. “What’s going on?” you asked, glancing between him and Penelope.

Penelope’s grin was practically devious. “Oh, nothing,” she said innocently, gesturing upward. “Except...look up.”

Hotch followed her gaze, his stomach sinking slightly as he spotted the small sprig of mistletoe dangling above the two of you. He heard the team’s collective laughter and chatter outside the door, and when he looked back at you, he saw the faint flush that crept up your cheeks.

“Penelope,” he said, his tone even but edged with warning. “This seems highly inappropriate.”

“Oh, come on, Hotch,” Morgan’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Don’t be a Grinch. It’s tradition!”

The team’s voices joined in, a chorus of good-natured peer pressure that only made the situation more absurd. You laughed softly, glancing at him with a mixture of amusement and resignation. “Looks like we’re outnumbered,” you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Hotch’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile threatening to surface. “It seems that way.”

You stepped closer, your expression softening as you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. The warmth of your touch lingered, and when you pulled back, you gave the team an exaggerated shrug. “That’s all you’re getting. This seems like an HR nightmare waiting to happen.”

The team erupted in laughter and groans, their teasing echoing through the room as they slowly dispersed, leaving the two of you alone. Hotch stood there, momentarily stunned. He was rarely caught off guard, but something about the way you’d handled the moment—with grace, humor, and that unshakable light of yours—had left him uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“You’re quiet,” you remarked, breaking the silence. There was a hint of teasing in your tone, but your eyes held something deeper.

Before he could respond, you stepped closer again, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious note. “For the record,” you said, your gaze locking with his, “I’ve thought about doing this for a very long time.”

And then you kissed him. Fully, softly, your lips brushing his with a warmth that stole his breath. It wasn’t hurried or fleeting, but gentle and deliberate, a kiss that spoke volumes without a single word. When you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, but there was a quiet confidence in your expression.

“Merry Christmas, Aaron,” you said softly, your voice carrying that same warmth that always seemed to anchor him. And before he could find the words to respond, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there beneath the mistletoe, the faint taste of peppermint and cocoa lingering on his lips.

He stared after you, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t quite name. You’d left him stunned, questioning everything he’d been holding back for so long. And for the first time, he allowed himself to wonder—really wonder—what he was waiting for.

Aaron Hotchner stood frozen beneath the mistletoe, replaying the moment over in his mind. Your touch, the warmth of your lips, the quiet confidence in your voice as you walked away—it all lingered like a soft hum, reverberating through him. For a man who thrived on control, who prided himself on composure, he was suddenly untethered.

The sound of laughter and conversation from the bullpen drifted faintly into the breakroom, but Hotch barely registered it. His gaze had followed you as you disappeared through the doorway, the gentle sway of your steps a stark contrast to the rapid thrum of his pulse. He raised a hand to his cheek, where your earlier, teasing kiss still burned faintly, before letting it drop.

He should follow you. Say something. Do something. But what? His mind, usually so sharp and analytical, felt slow and uncertain. You’d left him with no doubt about your feelings, and yet he still found himself grappling with the implications, the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

The door creaked slightly, and Morgan’s head poked through, a smirk firmly in place. “Hey, Hotch, you coming back out? Or are you still processing?”

Hotch shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, his tone even but quieter than usual.

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Take your time, man. But don’t let her get too far ahead of you. She’s got a lot of sunshine to give, and you’ve been standing in the shade too long.”

With that, Morgan disappeared, leaving Hotch alone once more. He exhaled deeply, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. For all his teasing, Morgan wasn’t wrong. You were sunshine, the kind that warmed even the coldest, darkest parts of him. And maybe—just maybe—he was ready to step into that light.

With a resolute breath, he straightened his tie and stepped out of the breakroom, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. You were by the tree now, talking with JJ and Garcia, your laughter carrying softly over the hum of the party. For the first time, Hotch felt a clarity he hadn’t allowed himself before.

He wasn’t going to wait anymore.

Aaron Hotchner stood in the kitchen; his sleeves rolled up as he finished drying the last of the dishes. The faint sounds of Jack’s laughter drifted in from the living room, where you were sitting on the floor by the coffee table, sorting through the pieces of a puzzle you’d brought as a Christmas gift. Jack, now a teenager, had grown taller and lankier in the past year, but his laughter still carried the same unfiltered joy that made Hotch’s chest ache with pride and affection.

He glanced over his shoulder to see the two of you working together, your head bent close to Jack’s as you studied the image on the puzzle box. You wore a soft red sweater, simple but elegant, and jeans that hinted at your easygoing nature. The twinkling lights from the Christmas tree reflected in your eyes as you laughed softly at something Jack said. Hotch couldn’t help but marvel at the way you fit so seamlessly into his life, the way you made everything—even something as ordinary as a puzzle—feel special.

The evening had been everything he could have hoped for. You’d arrived earlier with a bright smile, carrying a bag of gifts and a small dish of your signature dessert. Jack had met you at the door with a quick hug and an eager grin, his awkward teenage reserve slipping away in your presence. You’d brought him a few thoughtful gifts, including a hardcover art book filled with sketches and techniques, knowing he’d taken up drawing. Jack had practically beamed as he flipped through the pages, his gratitude clear in the way he couldn’t stop thanking you.

For you, Hotch had chosen something more personal. When he’d handed you the small wrapped box after dinner, you’d looked at him curiously, your fingers carefully peeling back the paper. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet with a single charm—a tiny sun.

“It reminded me of you,” he’d said simply, his voice quiet but steady.

Your breath had caught, your eyes shining as you turned the bracelet over in your hands. “Aaron,” you’d murmured, your voice soft with emotion. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He’d watched as you fastened it around your wrist, the charm catching the light in a way that seemed fitting. You were his sunshine, after all—the bright spot in his darkest days.

You hadn’t come empty-handed either. You had given Hotch a new tie, one that followed a similar pattern to his others--it was very him. You’d slipped back to your bag and pulled out another box, this one wrapped in dark green paper with a neat silver bow. “This is for you,” you’d said, holding it out to him with a touch of nervousness in your smile.

Hotch had unwrapped it carefully, revealing an elegant, framed photo of himself and Jack. The picture was candid, taken during one of Jack’s soccer games earlier in the year. Jack was grinning, his arm slung casually around his father’s shoulders, and Hotch was mid-laugh, a rare moment of unguarded joy captured perfectly. These moments so far and few these days, Jack growing up before his eyes so fast. He couldn’t help but worry if he had missed too much, but this photo was a reminder he was present.

“I thought you could use an updated photo of the two of you,” you’d explained, watching him closely. “I thought it might be nice to have a reminder of how much Jack adores you.”

For a moment, Hotch hadn’t been able to speak. He’d traced the edge of the frame with his fingers, his throat tightening as he looked up at you. “It’s perfect,” he’d said simply, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you.”

Now, as he stepped into the living room, he saw Jack stretch and yawn dramatically, the puzzle only half-finished. “I’m heading to bed,” Jack announced, his voice carrying the exaggerated tone of a teenager.

“Goodnight, kiddo,” you said warmly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. Jack groaned in protest but didn’t pull away, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Goodnight, Dad,” Jack said, pausing by Hotch’s side before wishing you goodnight, “Thanks for the gifts; I loved them.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your smile softening as Jack disappeared upstairs.

Hotch settled beside you on the couch, the warmth of the fire casting a gentle glow over the room. You tucked your legs beneath you, leaning slightly into his side as he rested an arm along the back of the couch. The quiet filled the space like a comforting blanket, and for a moment, Hotch simply let himself savor it.

“I think he likes you more than he likes me,” he said, his tone teasing but tinged with sincerity.

You laughed softly, tilting your head to look up at him. “I’m just trying to win him over with gifts and puzzles. It’s all part of my master plan.”

Hotch chuckled, his thumb brushing idly against your arm. “It’s working.”

Your smile lingered, but your expression shifted slightly, growing more thoughtful. “Aaron,” you began, your voice softer now. “Can I tell you something?”

He nodded, his gaze steady as he turned to face you fully. “Of course.”

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers playing with the edge of the throw pillow beside you. Then you looked up, your eyes meeting his with an openness that made his chest tighten.

“This past year has been… incredible,” you said, your voice tinged with emotion. “Being with you, getting to know Jack, feeling like I’m part of something so special… I can’t even put it into words.”

He listened intently, his hand still resting on your arm, his thumb now tracing small, reassuring circles.

“What I’m trying to say is… I love you,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly on the last word. “And I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but tonight felt right.”

The room seemed to be still, the faint crackle of the fire the only sound as your words hung between you. Hotch felt his breath hitch, his chest swelling with an emotion so profound it left him momentarily speechless. He reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he leaned closer.

“I love you too,” he said finally, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “More than I can ever say.”

Your eyes filled with tears, but your smile was radiant as you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his. For a long moment, the two of you simply stayed like that; the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

Later, as the fire burned low and the room grew quieter still, Hotch held you close, his arm draped around your shoulders. He glanced at the bracelet on your wrist, the tiny sun catching the last flickers of light.

“You know,” you said softly, breaking the silence, “I’ve thought about telling you for so long, but I kept overthinking it. I was so nervous you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

Hotch’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, his voice quiet but firm. “You never had to worry about that,” he said. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into my life. I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it.”

You looked up at him, your smile soft but full of emotion. “We’re quite the pair, huh? Overthinking everything when it’s so obvious.”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against you. “Maybe. But I think we got it right in the end.”

Your hand brushed against his, your fingers intertwining. “The best kind of right,” you murmured.

Hotch pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the weight of your words and the warmth of your presence filling him with a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. As the fire flickered its last embers, he held you close, silently marveling at how you’d turned his world into something brighter than he’d ever thought possible.

Aaron Hotchner stood in the middle of the living room, adjusting the final string of twinkling lights around the small tree you and Jack had picked out together the week before. It was early Christmas morning, and the house was quiet save for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the faint sound of Jack’s laughter from the video game he was playing upstairs. Hotch had been up for hours, carefully setting everything into place for what he hoped would be the perfect day.

Living with you had changed him in ways he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just the warmth you brought to his home but the way you’d taught him to savor moments, to lean into the joy of life rather than keeping it at arm’s length. This Christmas, he wanted to return the favor.

The first part of his plan unfolded at the BAU’s holiday party earlier that week. For the first time, Hotch had embraced the festivities rather than standing on the sidelines. He’d worked with Penelope to set up a hot cocoa bar, complete with toppings and festive mugs, and even organized a Secret Santa exchange. When you’d arrived in your cozy sweater and bright smile, you’d lit up even more upon seeing what he’d done.

“You did all this?” you’d asked, looking around at the decorated conference room.

“I had help,” he admitted, his lips curving into a rare smile. “But I thought it might be nice to bring a little sunshine to the team. You’ve inspired me.”

Your cheeks had flushed at his words, your smile widening as you leaned into his side. “I think it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

Now, at home, he hoped to create something equally memorable. He’d waited until you were fast asleep the night before to finish wrapping the small but meaningful gifts he’d chosen for you. Among them was a leather-bound journal with your initials embossed in gold, a nod to the way you’d always jot down your thoughts or ideas. But the most significant gift was hidden beneath the tree, tucked inside a small box. It wasn’t extravagant—Hotch had never been one for grand gestures—but it was deeply personal.

When you came down the stairs later that morning, your hair still slightly mussed from sleep and a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, you froze at the sight of the living room. The tree glowed softly, surrounded by neatly wrapped presents, and the mantle was adorned with garland and stockings. On the coffee table sat a tray with freshly brewed coffee and your favorite pastries.

“Aaron,” you breathed, your voice thick with emotion. “Did you do all this?”

“Merry Christmas,” he said simply, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I wanted to make it special for you. For us.”

You looked at him, your eyes shining as you took it all in. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

The morning passed in a blur of laughter and warmth as you and Jack opened gifts together. The journal earned a quiet, heartfelt thank you, but it was the last box Hotch handed you that brought tears to your eyes. Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a tiny sun-shaped charm, a perfect match to the bracelet he’d given you the year before.

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, your fingers brushing over the charm. “I love it.”

“It reminded me of you,” he said, his voice low. “And of everything you’ve brought into my life.”

Later, as Jack retreated upstairs to play with his new gifts--mainly video games this year, you and Hotch curled up on the couch together. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room as you rested your head against his chest.

“You really outdid yourself this year,” you murmured, your voice filled with affection. “You’re like a whole new person.”

“Not new,” he corrected gently, his hand tracing slow, comforting circles on your back. “Just better. Because of you.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your smile soft but radiant. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner. And you’ve given me the best Christmas I could ever ask for.”

He leaned down to kiss you, his heart full in a way he hadn’t thought possible. “I love you too,” he said softly. And as he held you close, the warmth of the season and the light of your presence surrounding him, he knew that this—this life with you—was the greatest gift he could ever receive.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

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crusty-chronicles · 1 year ago

Note

is there any chance you could add killua for the airheaded but strong s/o headcanons? If not, then no worries, I just love how you write them!

Yeah, I don't mind but it's gonna be platonic because I'm a little iffy about writing for him romantically. He's just a boy 🥺🥺🥺 This is mostly a crack fic.

BONUS AIRHEADED S/O HEADCANNONS: Killua (HxH)

Honestly tried to kill you at one point

Oh you're strong huh?

Then proceeds to hit you with everything he's got, only to see that it hardly affected you. (Kinda like the way he first treated Zushi)

After that he's petty, but impressed.

Congratulations 🎉🎉🎉 You've earned his respect 🥳🥳🥳

You're basically Gon 2.0

And he hates it

Cannot take you two anywhere

"We should break the lock to get in." Gon suggested.

"Are you stupid?" You scoffed.

"What's the point of having a door if you're just gonna break it?"

And Killua is momentarily at peace that at least one of you has some sense. Until you open your mouth again.

"Obviously we should smash open a window."

And Gon is nodding along enthusiastically

"You're right! What would we do without you 🤩"

And Killua is just 😮‍💨.

He is the parent of the group and I will die on this hill

If Gon's the sun, you're a nuke

He's constantly dragging you away from Hisoka

Nope. Not today

Why do you insist on talking to strangers.

No scratch that.

Why do you insist on talking to creepy strangers????

It gives him a massive headache everytime you almost get abducted.

Honestly thought about putting a tracker on you to avoid this happening.

But then he remembers you're practically indestructible so he drops it.

Is afraid Illumi will come for you and hurt you.

He was never allowed to have friends, and after Illumi threatened you and Gon at the Hunter Exam, he's very protective.

But then he remembers something you said after Greed Island.

"The three of us are all gonna become the best of the best. We're gonna get all wrinkly and old together and still kick butt!!! We're gonna stick together no matter what!"

And it temporarily quells the fear of his brother.

It makes him look forward to that outcome and gives him something to fight a little harder for.

When it comes to fighting, he does get a little envious of how you and Gon just rush in without thinking.

And how you always manage to win despite the circumstance.

But he never feels left behind because of it.

Like with Gon, he won't baby you, just call you an idiot and move on.

You fell?

Get up loser.

You can't read?

Find somebody else to translate. Or he'll make you do it and be laughing nonstop while you struggle to pronounce the word "Apple"

"Gon what color's an orange?"

"An orange is the same color as it's name. Just like a lemon."

Please somebody take you two back to first grade.

Killua is begging.

Even though he won't baby you, he'll rush as fast as he can if you're in actual danger.

You got caught by the phantom troupe?

"Are you completely brain dead!?!!? Where are you!?!?"

Now he regrets not putting a tracker on you.

"This nice clown man gave me candy and told me to follow him." You tell him over CALL.

"HISOOKAAAAA!!!!"

He is screaming and panicking.

You trespassed into the mountains his family lives to see him.

"WHY???? DON'T YOU KNOW ABOUT MIKE!?!?"

And when he gets there he sees you rubbing the monstrous canine's tummy. Petting him and calling him a "Good Boy."

Names he has called you out of spite: Idiot, Moron, Dummy, Psycho, Airhead, Ditz, and probably Pea Brain

On the bright side, you are Alluka's favorite person.

"Give me your ribs."

"Oh, are you hungry? Let's see if we can't find you a smokehouse for those ribs."

And it baffles both souls so much that Nanika accepts that as fulfilling her command.

Plus you have endless amounts of energy that works to drain both girls out. Even when they've both already swapped twice.

Killua designates you her official babysitter when he's busy.

You are a complete lunatic and moron, but you're one of the people he trusts the most.

Even if he does complain about you a lot.

MASTERLIST

#killua x reader #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x y/n #hxh killua #killua zoldyck #hunter x hunter #airhead s/o #stronk s/o #crack fic #x reader #x y/n #platonic

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sorrowfulmuse · 1 year ago

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Can I request a OPLA sanji x fem!reader fluffy story please? If you don’t like writing for Sanji, I’d also be fine with OPLA Luffy or OPLA Buggy.

Please and thank you. :)

♡ :: "opla!sanji x fem!reader." short imagine!

mentions/warnings:: nothing, just two pirates being in love although others had misunderstandings about your relationship but.. watch out for typos and whatnot, i am writing this at 4am TT also this will be a simple imagine as i’m rusty and didn’t know what prompt i should’ve used. 😭

p.s im sorry it took me so long!!! i got caught with a few things and almost finished it last night

✧ soft secret kisses being shared, longing touches and love affirmations being whispered into each others ears. sanji was floating on cloud9 every time he was near y/n, no other person could amount to her. not even a Goddess could compare to her beauty and light. she was everything to him, his universe.

sanji relished in her presence every time he was near her, his heart drumming to every kiss she left on his lips and ‘i love yous’. she was his own personal paradise. she hung the stars for him and he worshiped her for it.

although, in love and happy.. they never stated in their relationship to others, were they both single? were they long time friends? ex lovers perhaps? sanji being a flirt again? people had only guessed and assumed they both spoken for by other people. today, was very different that from that spotlight cause well,

"my love, you have to keep your eyes closed!" sanji laughed as he tried his best to guide to this ‘gift’ he kept talking about for weeks. "oh cmon handsome! can’t i just take a little peak?" y/n.. trying to use her charms against him was to no avail, sanji wasn’t going to give up and continued to lead her to his gift. "i wanna see your reaction so no peaks!"

y/n's palms were sweating, when questioned? she could only blame it on the summers heat. she was nervous, nervous about what sanji could possibly gift her. were they running away from the culinary life? the overbearing thoughts had consumed her in the worst ways possible until,

"okay, we’re here." he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her back. she almost didn’t want the blindfold off soon as the bright lights were hard to adjust to. "why.." now she was left speechless, a little hidden spot on a island, sanji had decorated the nature around them with beautiful colorful lanterns, bouquets filled with many sweets of her favorite candies and flowers. petals laid on the ground, kissed by more roses after roses.

"sanji.. what is this?" it was unusual for him to be this quiet.

turning to find him down on knee with a small box in his one palm while the other still held hers. "my y/n, we’ve hip to hip since the moment we were both stuck on that rock with zeff. we stuck with each other as we discovered the same passion for food, owing our own restaurant together and many more.. but i want something more than that. no, i need more. i want you and i.. to be happy and healthy forever."

tears flooded against y/n's eyes, "i know it’s just a ring but it’ll symbolize something in the future, anything you want! i just.. i.." now sanji was close to tears himself. "y/n.. will you be my wife?" without a word, the girl before him tackled him to the ground crying her heart out. "of course i will sanji!" they both laid there, crying and kissing each other. "oh! i thought you’ll never ask!" y/n giggled, (she knew) throughout the night they celebrated their engagement, celebrating to spending eternity together.

#vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji #opla x reader #opla x y/n #opla scenarios #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #op sanji #sanji icons #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #sanji fluff #sanji angst #opla!sanji x reader #one piece #one piece live action

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turbulentscrawl · 7 months ago

Text

Modern Reader Shorts

This is just a couple little blurb ideas I had that can't really be used for anything else. No warnings, really, it's mostly humor.

Luchino

“Your socks are mis-matched,” the professor announces offhandedly, sorting his notes. You’re laid out on the cushy chair in his ‘office,’ shoes off and legs dangling from one arm. And it’s true, your socks are different colors.

“Yeah, I couldn’t be bothered to find an actual pair this morning,” you answer. Luchino pauses and looks pointedly over at you, through his lashes, and squints a bit. That’s his thinking face, you note. Like he’s working through an equation.

“You’re not concerned about being judged for the state of your attire?” he asks.

“Not really. It’s not like anyone really sees my socks anyway.”

“Well, I’m seeing them now. It’s a messy look,” he finally says. There’s the smallest of smirks on his face as he says it. This is some unspoken test, a probe of your reactions. He does a lot of those.

“Okay, but you already know I’m a mess so what the fuck difference does that make?”

Luchino snorts a laugh at your response, and then coos a casual “touché.”

Frederick

“Has anyone ever told you ‘you have a slutty little waist’?” You call out to Fred. His fingers slip on the piano keys and the song comes to a cacophonous halt. He’s frozen still with his back to you—his dorito-looking back with its broad shoulders and snatched waist. You know by experience the man is boney as hell, so how dare he have such a silhouette?

“N-“ Fred coughs, voice croaking. “No, I can’t say that they have.” You can’t see his face, so you wonder if it’s shock or humor that makes him stutter.

“Well, you do,” you reply. A long silence settles over the room. He never dares to look at you, but you think you see pink turning at the tip of his ear.

“Was there anything else?” he asks. His fingers hesitantly move to restart the song.

“Nope. I just thought you should know.” You suppress a giggle as Fred clears his throat and begins playing again.

Robbie (platonic, obviously)

“There’s…games on this?” the too-tall headless boy asked, holding your phone in his discolored hands. He’d been asking around for a playmate all evening, until he found you. You weren’t much of a hide-and-seek type of person, however, and thought this might entertain him a bit in the meantime.

“Sure is! I’ve got crosswords, sudoku, Candy Crush, plenty of stuff!” You reach and tap around on your phone’s screen, pulling up the list of games you’d downloaded to pass the time, when you still lived in a place where there was time to pass. Candy Crush springs to life on the screen and Robbie flinches, nearly dropping your phone.

“It’s so bright…and loud,” he muttered. It was half awe, and half distress, you thought. Too stimulating for the boy, perhaps. You tried sudoku instead—it was a dark screen with no music, but by the time you’d explained the rules to Robbie, he was limp and snoozing against your shoulder.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #luchino diruse x reader #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv professor #idv composer #multiple idv characters #turbulentscrawl

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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 7 months ago

Text

cumulus / nephos / “cloud” / ☁️

[plain text: cumulus / nephos / “cloud” / ☁️ cloud emoji]

[id: pastel fem looking person in pastel manual wheelchair looking down to slug in lap. there also slug on head n slug slide down skirt (don’t ask how). (all color pastel). person hair pink bangs, purple side hair, & blue low loose pigtails go below hips. purple eyes & medium-light ish skin. wearing bright turquoise ish color shirt collar with pink ruffles, & white shirt body with blue ruffles decorate, n green long sleeve cardigan over it also with ruffles. rainbow midi above knee skirt with white ruffles overflow from side of wheelchair. wear mismatch stockings, person’s left side rainbow stripes, n person right side turquoise blue with clouds on it. person not wearing shoes.

their wheelchair has yellow headrest, teal stroller push handle, green contoured backrest with supportive panels on two side lateral, teal to blue transition arm rest, orange big wheels with rainbow windmill candy swirl as cover & red push rim. frame is turquoise blue gradient to pink, has dump/slant, with yellow slug on one side’s turning point. purple fat caster wheels. attach to backrest is big white angel wings, & above arm rest has glowing yellow halo. their AAC device floating by them, has turquoise blue case with white cloud patterns. is saying “slug” icon. border of art lined with rainbow gradient lace. end id]

☁️.

(otherwise known as hate names terrible at decision)

VERY pastel n rainbow overload >:)

they level 3 autistic (“requiring very substantial support”) with high support needs—meaning they cannot independently do most adaptive functioning skills, needing other people physical help to do/do for them. they also need 24/7 supervision & physical help for all iADLs & bADLs.

they nonverbal & use AAC full time. their AAC is symbol based speech generating device.

their (most likely [<haven’t decided] partner who act as their) disability caretaker is hyacinthos shinya🪻🌌.

they also full time non-ambulatory wheelchair user with very specific posture & seating positioning needs so not out of it for long or really much at all.

angel wing on back of wheelchair is power assist! is magically powered by hyacinthos (who angel) & can be powered even remotely / far away. way control wheelchair & power assist part by intuitive / hand motions & gestures / etc, part by halo hover above armrest that act as joystick. can use it like traditional joystick or wear as bracelet n control that way! (gimme it i want one) (if you recognize this setting it may be because previous version)

they do mix of self propel, power assist, & caregiver push. their wheelchair have stroller style push handle instead traditional push handle for easier caregiver push, especially one handed.

is set in magical world & they do some magic (< haven’t decided]!

character not slug obsessed, artist the slug obsessed one

character sheet below cut!!

artfight character profile (VERY wip)

please do feel free draw them (with credit) n tag me!!!!!!

reblog welcome but please don’t repost

will fight you if debate about autism levels & support needs

hi under cut

[character sheet. functionally described below]

top left is full character clothing (with wheelchair translucent in background) because in original there some key parts blocked by wheelchair especially arm rest.

skirt around waist have purple band with blue small ruffles. center have rainbow bow with rainbow star on top.

n also have front n back of AAC device. what drawn here is 5x7 grid with various colored squares showing different parts of speech but grid size more so because like. is how much could fit comfortably. so even when redraw n isn’t exact 5x7 with colors exactly right where is right now, is okay. colors & where they are based on own AAC device >:) because of course

design of aac device case basically same as above. back side just have bigger clouds. oh also device has handles. tho it float around so handles get used less. float around so don’t have worry about how to carry it how to mount on wheelchair etc etc etc it follows you it automatic come to your hand when you wanna say something (kinda also acting as prompting bc sometimes think about say something but don’t actually say in device) it get out way when you don’t want it. if only like this irl lol

bottom left is info about character already said

bottom right is wheelchair design

parts covered up by person: rainbow gradient side guard, blue contoured cushion.

n also drawing of back of backrest: when not in use, wings power assist shrink to small decoration on back. not big there all time.

also have stickers! sticker of nessie, banana slug, sheep, cloud, star, rainbow, & an AAC symbol of “AAC”

wheelchair may also have magical tilt & recline & elevate. how? don’t know!!! why not just make full powerchair? uhhhh like manual chair look better

n picture of irl windmill candy

border of art also rainbow gradient lace.

yea that all please draw them 🥲

praise me put lots work into them

pls be nice to them

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hotyanderedaddies · 1 year ago

Note

you are legit my fav author on here your stories are amazing, could I possibly request yandere wolf daddy with a forced feminized male reader ( who secretly enjoys it)

and can I be 🪬 anon? :3

[Yandere! Werewolf Daddy x Male! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

"Princess, it's time to wake up," Daddy whispered into your ear as he tightened his hold on you, squeezing you in closer to his hairy chest. He leaned down and placed a large kiss onto your forehead, exaggerating his kissing noises.

You grunted in response, already rolling your eyes at the older werewolf's foolishness.

The big werewolf rolled out from under you and stood up from the bed, stretching his powerful arms over himself. He looked down at you and mock-frowned when he saw that you haven't budged, too tired to get out of bed at such an obscene hour (7 AM).

Daddy crossed his muscled arms over his beefy chest, tsking at you. "Princess," he warned, putting on an authoritative air, "it's time to get up so we can get ready for the day. Now be a good girl and listen to Daddy."

"Shut up..." you whined, shoving the bubblegum pink pillow over your head in frustration.

You heard Daddy utter out a low growl.

Before you knew it, Daddy threw your tiny body over his broad shoulder. He stomped over towards the bathroom, plopping you on your feet in front of the tub.

"I'll lay your clothes out on the bed," Daddy said as he reached over and turned on the hot water for the shower, steam already billowing out. "Unless, you want some of Daddy's help?"

"Pass," you muttered, slamming the bathroom door shut so that you had some semblance of privacy.

As you washed yourself under the hot water of the shower, you couldn't help but sigh as you lathered up your hair with the sickly sweet strawberry scented shampoo. It was such a girly smell and the bottle was even bright pink with flecks of glitter garnishing it- you wouldn't have been caught dead using it at the gym with all of your buddies around.

Still, even you had to admit that it did smell a little good. You couldn't resist taking a big whiff of the sweet strawberries as you lathered up your longer hair that Daddy forbade you to cut.

Normally, you opted for buzzcuts since it was an easier style to manage, but now your hair was shaggy and starting to cover up your ears due to its longer-than-normal length.

After rinsing out the suds from your hair, you grabbed your equally sweet smelling body wash (this one shaped like a red candied apple), and washed yourself.

It's been four months since Daddy stole you.

You'd been packing up your stuff to move out of your freshman dorm at college. You'd been all set to leave the next morning and had lied down to get some much needed sleep.

That'd been when Daddy had snuck in through your open window, and had snatched you out of bed.

He'd taken you to the cabin he calls "Home", where he'd claimed that you were soulmates and where he dotes on you hand and foot...

and where he insists on calling you "Princess", "Baby Girl", "Sweetiepie", et cetera.

Daddy dresses you up in the girliest clothes that he can find, and he keeps on giving you gifts that would traditionally belong on the more feminine side of the spectrum (roses, jewelry, vibrators).

It was mortifying for a manly athlete such as yourself... or at least, it used to be.

Despite your annoyance, even you had to admit that having such a strong, hunky, muscly wolf daddy pampering you constantly was sorta nice.

Ignoring your irritation for the time being, you stepped out of the shower and dried yourself off. You walked back into the bedroom and nearly wailed at the hot pink hoodie and light blue skinny jeans that Daddy had picked out for you to wear. It was a rather tame outfit considering that there were no frills or glitter this time; but you were never a big fan of pink to be honest.

Still, not wanting another spanking, you yanked on the clothes, surprised at how soft the fabric of the hoode was. Despite its garish color, the fabric was soft to the touch like fleece, and you could definitely smell Daddy's musk on it from when he absolutely rolled around on it to scent it.

As you examined yourself in the mirror, the bedroom door swung open and Daddy sauntered in, wearing tattered blue jeans and no shirt, allowing his buff chest muscles to be on display.

The split second his eyes landed on you, Daddy rushed forward and wrapped you up in his arms, nuzzling you lovingly.

"You look so cute, Princess," Daddy gushed happily. "You're Daddy's Baby Girl, right?"

The way Daddy looked at you with such love and adoration in his eyes, combined with the softness of the hoodie, the sweet scent of the strawberry shampoo, and the firmness of Daddy's large muscles caused you to completely melt into the wolf daddy's hold.

"Yeah, yeah," you mumbled, blushing slightly as you rested your head on Daddy's chest, hearing the deep rumble of contentment as he kissed your forehead.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #werewolf #yandere werewolf #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #Asks #Dom Daddy #Daddy x Reader #Male Reader #yandere x male darling #yandere x male reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 6 months ago

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Bakugou x male reader where Bakugou got a thing for lingerie so he buys some to try on but is a little self-conscious and kinda runs away to bathroom to hide so reader don't see him, reader comfortes/reassures him that ofc he's beautiful and pretty. after comes the fucking

Katsuki Bakugou x male reader

Headcanons

(Aged up characters, obviously)

Im not dead, how is everyone? Trying to get back into writing now that I have time. Not too smutty, more focused on the fluff, but I hope that’s still enjoyable.

Reader is based vaguely off Hiromi Higuruma from JJK, cuz im a sucker for tired lawyer type dudes.

Katsuki has always been the type of person to put on a tough front, that didn’t lessen after you two started dating. You met after he graduated UA and set up his own agency, when he needed the best legal help to set it all up.

He didn’t really know how to act around you in the beginning, with your dry humor and the fact that you didn’t take him too seriously. You had a quirk license, but you never once planned on being a hero, since the system was corrupt and broken in your eyes.

This also led to your guys first major argument, way before you started dating. But being forced to work together for months meant you guys grew closer. At this point Katsuki also learned about your quirk, which was the ability to see and use people’s karma against them.

This meant you could “see” when people were lying, but it was more of a sense than sight, but that’s the easiest way to explain it. it was also how you were able to point out quite early on that he was lying through his teeth when he snapped that he didn’t like you.

Being with somebody who could easily point out when he was bluffing or trying to hide how he really felt, was something Katsuki wouldn’t like in the beginning, since it meant he couldn’t use his usual defense mechanisms.

But as time passed, Katsuki was able to be himself more and more around you, seeing as you could always sense to some degree when he was hiding something, and all your court work meant you could easily tell when there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t get himself to do it.

It meant that Katsuki finally allowed himself to start exploring other parts of himself and his interests. Being soft and harmless has never been something the explosion hero had seen himself as, but with you it just came easy.

And if he imagined being your cute little househusband who would greet you when you get home form a difficult case, who would undo your tie for you and massage your shoulders, only to show you the silk pieces he wore in your favorite colors, then it was just for Katsuki.

Katsuki can’t explain what came over him when he bought the lingerie pieces he had been glancing at for months. Maybe it was the extra hours of hero work that left him loopy and exhausted, or it was that deep urge to be small, soft and pretty, instead of big, tough and strong,

He could deny ever having bought it, since you guys had your own personal finances. That was until it came in the mail, in a nondescriptive box that just looked like any other package. It had Katsuki thinking it was something random he had bought, until he opened it up and was met with soft pink tissue paper and a personalized “thank you for supporting my small business” card.

The stickers, raspberry candies, and a guide on how to wash and care for the lace, was shoved aside. Bakugou went bright red as he pulled the tissue paper open and saw with his own eyes the pieces custom made for his build, in the softest of pinks and whites.

Part of him wanted to just throw it away, even if hed spent way too much money on it. but another part of Katsuki was excited, a soft shudder run down his spine as he rubbed the material between his calloused fingers. Maybe he could just… try it on. That didn’t mean he had to use it for anything, right?

It didn’t take Katsuki long to move into the bathroom across from your shared bedroom. It was large enough for both of you to have your space, but most importantly, it had a large mirror where you could see yourself with ease.

In his nervous excitement, Katsuki didn’t realize the guide for caring about said lingerie had been brushed to the floor, just barely tucked under the kitchen table where hed dumped the other packages you guys had received.

The blonde was a blushing mess as he tucked the lingerie on, breathing shaky and uneven as he felt the soft delicate lace and fabrics brushing against his muscular scarred body. Hed always looked strong and dangerous, but like this he could almost see himself as… delicate.

The shape of the lingerie made his already small waist seem smaller, whilst also supporting his pecs and squeezing around his thighs in ways he knew would have your hands twitching with the urge to grab.

Katsuki was too distracted with admiring himself to notice you arriving home, your tired voice calling out to him as you knew he would be around. His silence had you raising a brow as you tucked off your coat and tie.

The pile of packages wasn’t anything new. Being a hero meant Katsuki got a lot of mail shipped directly to him, and you got things every now and then too, though it was normally thank you gifts from clients.

The soft pink paper under the table caught your attention, and after picking it up you could help but huff softly in interest. Was Katsuki trying to surprise you? How sweet. Better not keep him waiting then.

Your quirk allowed you to see vague splashes of color and waves, each color and swirl showing different feelings and intensities of said feelings. His embarrassment and arousal had you softly chuckling to yourself. The shame and fear mixed into it was worrying though.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was. If the light under the bathroom door wasn’t enough to tell you, then the intense swirls of colors radiating through the doors cracks was another sign. This truly made him feel good, you could tell. It also meant you felt bad that he hadn’t come to you with this before, as it clearly made him feel some type of way.

“Katsuki?” you pipe up, knocking softly on the door, eyes locked onto the swirls of color and waves that seemed to twist and turn, wanting to gauge his reactions and feelings. The flashes of new colors and erratic waving made you frown. Why was he scared? Self-conscious?

You didn’t say anything about what you had found in the kitchen, instead letting Katsuki take all the time he needed to answer. A gruff but meek “what?” snapping through the door.

Inside the bathroom Katsuki started to feel horrible, wrapping his arms around himself. Hed been so distracted oogling at his body and the lace that he hadn’t even noticed you coming home, what type of hero was he to not realize?

The self-conscious feelings welled up, the imperfections he couldn’t see before almost blowing up to a much larger, much more noticeable scale. Why would you find him attractive like this? All muscles, sharp edges and ugly scars?

“What are you doing, honey?” you hum, keeping patient and open. Sure, you were jittery with the want to see him in whatever he had bought, but it was clear Katsuki was uncomfortable, mostly with himself than anything.

“Just- fuck. Go away for a moment, ill be out” he snapped, voice raising a few octaves that told you he was starting to get distressed. Katsuki couldn’t figure out why his eyes were welling up, or why he felt so weak and vulnerable like this. But the very thought of you seeing him like this and rejecting him felt worse than any wound he had ever gotten.

“What if I want to see” you mumble, close enough to the door to know he would hear you. Your quirk let you see the rapid fluctuations in the colors and swirls. Shock, annoyance, depressive self-hate, self-consciousness, begrudging acceptance.

He clearly wanted to demand to know how you knew what he was wearing, but Katsuki grumbled a little to himself. Of course you knew, you knew everything, you weren’t heroes go-to lawyer for no reason.

You took a small step back as the door unlocked, and nothing could have prepared you for the sight that would meet you. A hot breath was puffed out your nose as Katsuki stood so meekly before you, scarred arms still protectively wrapped around himself.

The longer you went without speaking, the more distressed your lover seemed to get, his red eyes

flicking from your face to the wall to the floor as he worried at his lip.

Finally, your explosive lover seemed to snap, throwing his arms out in a frustrated “say something for fuck sake!”, his eyes wide but shiny in a way that spoke of tears. His usual posturing and loud tone didn’t really have the same effect when he was wearing that pretty lingerie, and he was flushed so prettily in the face.

“you’re so pretty…” you finally muster out, his still locked to his face and body, hands clenched at your sides as familiar heat bloomed inside you like hot syrup. It wasn’t the usual ravenous hunger that had you bending him over the kitchen counter, or shoving him under your desk in your office, but it was similar.

He scoffed at your words, but his redder face and the bright colors swirling around him made it clear he felt flattered and noticed, a soft whimpered noise leaving his clenched lips when you finally started to touch him.

It was strange to have your usually self-assured and decided lover shuddering and gasping weakly from your hands just running up and down his sides, brushing against the delicate lace and the different stitches and patterns.

“s-stop saying stupid shit” he mumbled, his voice even sounding softer and more vulnerable than Katsuki normally allowed himself to be. The tone of Katsuki’s voice jumped up into a yelp as your hands grasp at his pecs, petting at his nipples through the sheer fabric, already so hard and sensitive from all his self-admiration earlier.

“If you don’t believe me, let me show you” you grumble out, finally looking Katsuki in the eyes with the look of a wolf about to eat its prey. The explosion of bright colors around Katsuki was euphoric in your eyes, even as he yelped when you picked him up with ease. The bedroom was right across the hall, but that wouldn’t stop you from carrying him there.

Katsuki wrapped his arms around his chest again as you laid him carefully on your shared bed, too flustered to look you in the eye. But you knew he wanted too, he was just to shy to allow himself to feel this way, which just meant you had to show him.

The gasped yelp that left him as you slide his thighs apart brought a hungry smirk to your face, Katsuki’s wide red eyes finally snapping to your own as you slowly slide lower and lower between them. You would make sure Katsuki felt more confident before the night was over, that was a promise.

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gaypleasantview · 3 months ago

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⋆˖⁺‧₊☆ bathroom bliss, part I. // Autumn Drop Day 3 ☆₊‧⁺˖⋆

⋆ 2 decorative objects to grace your toilet!

⋆ 37 various swatches

⋆ files are compressed and uniquely named

Link, swatch, detailed credits and more info under the cut ♡

Hi everyone! There's no way to say this that isn't awkward, but I made something to decorate toilets specifically! I like to take inspiration from the real world, so I've been noticing little things that are present in our reality and have never been seen in the Sims before, at least not in my game. And I must say, I really enjoy those little flower stamps people keep putting into toilets in cleaning videos (I have one too, but it's a very ugly shape for no reason). I thought about it and realized I'd never seen anything of the kind for the game, so I went ahead and created my first ever finished mesh from scratch, which is just a plain surface, to be honest, but it goes well with the first mesh I've ever converted, which I'm pretty sure was a period painkiller box... Anyway! I know small stamps like this probably wouldn't actually color the water in the bowl, but whenever I see those things that do color it I find them really funny, so I decided to make something like that to go with the stamp. Yeah, today I'm sharing a toilet water colorant. I don't know what to say in my defence. Toilets can be fun now!

Also, yes, the Part I in the name is a threat.

So, let's dive in! (or rather not...)

♡ Overview

This set consist of two objects, a flower gel stamp and a colored water surface. They're modeled to work with Maxis toilets, but are supposed to be compatible with custom ones, too, as long as they follow the Maxis shape. You don't have to use moveobjects to position them! They can intersect any object, allowing to place them directly into the toilet. Sims don't mind having them in the way (or their own clothing, for that matter).

Both objects can be found in Plumbing/Miscellaneous and cost §2 each.

♡ Object 1: Toilet Gel Stamp

This is an object to attach to the back of your toilet bowl. It's supposed to be positioned as shown in the screenshots above, but maybe you could put it in other spots, I haven't checked!

The mesh is a whole lot of 2 polygons, and it uses 128x128 textures because the flower was very cute up close and I couldn't help myself. It's an actual image from the game, it comes from the interests section! I made it semi-transparent so that it would look like actual gel texture (shout out to my best friend for suggesting that). It comes in 10 ridiculously bright colors that I had fun naming like they're candy flavors. They are all supposed to smell nice, just trust me!

♡ Object 2: Toilet Water Enhancer

Maybe some of us just deserve to have pretty water inside our toilets. To achieve that, I took the mesh of actual water directly from the toilet and just put it a bit higher up, so it's basically like a cap. Because of that, you won't really be able to witness the animation of flushing water or see if the toilet is clogged while this object is present.

The mesh is 6 polygons and uses 128x128 textures. I made 27 recolors in various colors I think are pretty, because the whole point of this project is to add something to the bathroom that will take our minds away from its general purpose. The swatches actually use a mix of Maxis water textures.

All swatches are pictured below in alphabetical order (aside from the mesh one, ignore where it is in the picture).

Credits: Maxis for the water mesh and textures, @horusmenhosetix for Organized Extracted TS2 Icons where I found the flower, SaraMK and Richief on moreawesomethanyou for originally extracting them, HugeLunatic for the Object Intersection Tutorial.

♡ Download ♡

SFS | Mediafire

#s2cc #my cc #sims 2 cc #ts2cc #ts2

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otomiyaa · 3 months ago

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Day 26: Timer

Dr. Ratio x Aventurine | Nim's Lovely Tickletober

Word Count: 600

His shoulders were shaking. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips were curled up and his cheeks were already coloring bright red.

"You're not giving up already, are you? We haven't even started."

Ratio's fingers lazily climbed up and down Aventurine's torso.

"Thahat's because... Y-you can't even wahait one m-more second!"

"You're just not fast enough."

True, maybe Ratio had gotten a little impatient. His fingers were itching. He couldn't wait to get started. As soon as these 2 magical minutes got presented to him on a golden platter, he had been way too eager to start.

While he continued to hold back his laughter from Ratio's early tickles, Aventurine's fingers wrapped around the hourglass and finally turned it around.

"Ahahalright, g-go!" Aventurine gave the starting sign, and what had been some subtle pre-tickles turned into a full on attack in an instant.

Dr. Ratio was determined to make good use of the 2 minutes and dug his fingers into Aventurine's torso, and instead of making him whine and giggle he made him howl with such admirable volume.

"AHAHAAH! Hohohold ohohon! Ehehehee!"

"No, you hold on," Ratio responded dryly. It wasn't an everyday thing that Aventurine would be so bold and foolish to gamble 2 minutes of ticklishness. Thinking luck would be on his side and Dr. Ratio would be the one in this position, it was Aventurine himself who suggested that the one losing the bet would get tickled for 5 minutes.

Since he thought it was nonsense and not worth the hassle, Ratio managed to negotiate until that became just 2 minutes, which he kind of regretted now that he turned out to be the winner.

But oh well. Whether it was 5 minutes or 2 minutes, just the fact that Aventurine had to subject to that precious ticklishness because of his own stupid idea, well, it was truly entertaining and satisfying.

"Y-you're ohohoverdoing ihihit ahahah!" Aventurine cried when Ratio pinned him firmly against the couch and continued to tickle him by clawing mercilessly at those sensitive lower sides.

"I don't think I agree. Can't really overdo this," Ratio said while his fingers continued to explore those lovely tickle spots.

In all honesty, Aventurine's body was like a candy shop for children. So much to choose from, so much sweet treasure... Where to start? With only 2 short minutes, the number of options to torture him with was just overwhelming.

Soft scribbles up and down his neck? Play his ribcage like a piano out of tune? Poke his tummy until he was spasming as if he was being electrified?

Or.... Ratio hummed curiously and buried his fingers into Aventurine's underarms, digging experimentally for the gold he had managed to find several times before.

"NONONO AHAHaanything but that- Rhaahatio!"

Bingo. Ratio smirked and continued to tickle him there. He eyed the hourglass. Time was flying. Better make sure he wouldn't be able to breathe after those 2 short minutes.

The short distraction from the timer actually caused him to accidentally lose control over the very ticklish Aventurine, who managed to flip over on his side with flailing arms.

"Too muhuhuch ahahahah!" he squealed hysterically.

"Hey, keep still," Ratio warned, but Aventurine's wild arms already moved too much and too far and - crash.

Ratio stopped the tickling abruptly and they both stared in surprise at the shattered timer; the hourglass lay in miserable pieces on the floor.

"....." Aventurine panted tiredly. "T-that was 2 minutes, right?"

"Hm..." Ratio was aware he couldn't keep away his predator look as he eyed Aventurine hungrily.

"No. Too bad you broke it. Let's count again." Before Aventurine could argue, he began the tickling all over, and without a timer to properly guide him, he was going to tickle him until he sensed the 2 minutes were over. And maybe, well yes, maybe he could lose track of time, but only just a little...

#tickletober #tickletober2024 #lovelytickletober #ratiorine #honkai star rail #dr ratio #aventurine #tickling #tickle fic #otomiya!writes

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jiyascepter · 11 months ago

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A Carnival Serenade

Masterlist

Want to be added to my taglist? Here!

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Words: 915

Warnings/Content: pure fluff, grumpy x sunshine, cranky loki, teasing, reader is shorter than loki, est. relationship | lmk if there's more

Synopsis: A cheerful reader drags reluctant Loki into the chaos of a city carnival. Amidst cotton candy clouds, carnival games, and a spontaneous photo booth moment, unexpected sparks of affection and mischief intertwine, revealing that Loki has more to him under his stoic exterior.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this! Please pardon me, but this short is clichéd 😶‍🌫️

"Come on Loki!! Keep up with me!!" You shouted, turning back to see the grumpy God you had dragged with you to the city carnival that you absolutely loved to go to every year. Amazing food and games—why not?

Loki walked over to you with slow, reluctant steps to show his disinterest. He was judging—not you, but the people around him. His disgust for midgardians used to heighten whenever he used to go out with you. To his surprise, you take hold of his arm and start to drag him through the crowd. It was secretly funny to him to see such a little girl try to pull his tall, godly self.

"I fail to comprehend why you insist on subjecting me to this... spectacle," Loki grumbled, eyeing the vibrant chaos around you both.

"Come on, Loki! Lighten up a bit! Carnivals are all about fun and joy!" You chirped, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Loki sighed, resigned to his fate, as you practically skipped towards the entrance. The carnival was a riot of colors, with the scent of popcorn and cotton candy lingering in the air. His eyes squinted against the bright lights.

You stop at a cotton candy cart, where you buy an oversized, pink cloud of sugar. You draw up your hand near his lips. "Here, try some! It's like eating a piece of happiness!" Loki raises his eyebrow, his hands crossed, as he leans in to take a small bite.

"It's excessively sweet," he remarks. "Yeah, isn't it amazing?" you beam up at him, and Loki struggles to oppose a smile. You notice that, but decide not to tease the grumbling god for now. You both continued exploring the place, pulling Loki from one attraction to another. Loki glanced at you from time to time, secretly admiring how excited you became with every little thing.

"Let's get matching face paint, Loki! It'll be like a secret bonding ritual," she suggested with a wide grin.

He huffs. "I'm not getting that," he says, before you give him that sweet look of yours that was absolutely irresistible to him. He complies and you chuckle, admiring how he always used to impassively try new things with you.

"I look no less than a jester," he complains after the artist draws a small heart with an arrow on his face and yours. "You look absolutely sweet to me," you say, leaning in to place a soft peck on his cheek.

That's what drove his body to absolutely melt for you.

He won't show it, but he was almost enchanted by this small showcase of physical affection you displaced. And he wanted more, but he couldn't ask for a kiss in this rushed place.

The night progressed, filled with laughter, rides, and carnival games. You even won a stuffed animal at the ring toss, holding it up triumphantly. "And a little plushie for my God of Mischief," you teased, earning a faint smirk from him. He loved it whenever you used to address him by his title.

You both wandered through the carnival hand in hand, and you stopped in front of a photo booth. "What do you say Loki? Care for a picture?" And before he could even grumble about it being a childish endeavour, you ran inside the closed booth, giggling excitedly. He follows after you, scoffing as he takes a seat beside you, facing the camera.

"Ridiculous. I have no interest in such frivolous displays." You jokingly pout at him, "Come on, just one for me, okay? Now suggest a pose." He sighs and thinks for a moment, then it strikes him.

"How about...a...kiss on the cheek? I've seen youngsters do it..."

To your amazement, his voice sounded surprisingly shy. Of course he was shy; he rarely asked for physical affection. You raise an eyebrow and softly chuckle, "Really? Loki, the God of Mischief, suggesting a pose involving physical affection? This is a rare sight." Loki scowled, attempting to salvage his composure. "It's merely for the sake of a photograph. Don't read too much into it."

You chuckle again. "Sure, then let's go with your pose then. Who would've thought you were into these cute and sentimental gestures?" You lean in, but struggle a bit to reach Loki's elevated height while sitting.

"You're too short for me, darling," he says, a tease of mischief in his voice, and he was grinning. Dissatisfied with the lack of intimacy, he couldn't resist the urge to take matters into his own hands—quite literally. With an unexpected swiftness, he picks you up and places you on his lap, and you couldn't help but blush at this sudden turn of events.

"There, much better," Loki muttered, his stoic expression tinged with a rare hint of amusement. Now that you were comfortably settled on his lap, he tilted his head to the side, inviting the cheek kiss rather demandingly. You smile, wrap your arms around his neck, and press a rather sweet kiss on his cheek. A subtle warmth enveloped the god, contrasting with the usual cool facade he wore. In that fleeting moment, the touch of your lips sparked an unexpected sensation—a mixture of surprise and an unfamiliar tenderness. Loki, who was quick to dismiss such feelings, couldn't deny the subtle flutter in his chest. He felt an air of brief vulnerability.

The camera captures the sweet moment, which not only showcases your cute pose but also the playful dynamic of your unlikely pair.

#jiya writes #t: loki oneshots #loki #tom hiddleston #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki oneshots #loki imagine #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fluff #marvel #mcu

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jojosbizarrecandyland · 4 months ago

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Chapter 1: Joanne's Sweet Endeavor / A Sweeter Encounter

Pages: 5 Words: 1978 Summary: Joanne, a determined twelve-year-old, runs the Sweet Tooth Candy Shop while her parents are away. She expertly assists customers, helping a grandmother pick out the perfect gift for her granddaughter, and manages a group of mischievous kids attempting to steal candy. Joanne sternly confronts them, offering a small treat and a lesson in honesty. As the day winds down, a suspicious group of men loiter outside the shop. Joanne senses danger and prepares to defend the store using the magical abilities of her candy bear, vowing to protect her parents' business no matter what.

The Sweet Tooth Candy Shop was a beacon of color and joy in the heart of town, its windows lined with every kind of candy imaginable. From sugary rock candy to chewy licorice, the shop was a paradise for anyone with a sweet tooth. Today, however, the shop had a special charm—it was run by Joanne, a twelve-year-old with a knack for business.

As the bell above the door jingled, Joanne looked up from behind the counter, her brown curls bouncing with her movement. She adjusted her apron and greeted the new customer with a bright smile. “Welcome to Sweet Tooth! How can I help you today?”

The customer, a middle-aged woman with a fondness for bright scarves, smiled back. “Hello, dear. I’m looking for something special. It’s my granddaughter’s birthday, and I want to get her something sweet.”

Joanne’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “We’ve got just the thing! Follow me.” She led the woman to a display of colorful candy jars. “We’ve got some beautiful candy gift boxes that can be personalized. You can choose a selection of candies to fill them.”

The woman’s face lit up. “Oh, this looks perfect. I think she’ll love these gummy bears and the chocolate truffles. How much for a box like this?”

Joanne calculated the total quickly. “That’ll be twenty-five dollars for the box and the candies.”

The woman nodded and handed over the money. “Thank you, Joanne. You’re doing a great job here.”

“Thank you!” Joanne said, ringing up the sale and packing the box with care. “Have a sweet day!”

As the woman left, another customer entered—the local neighborhood kids. Joanne recognized them instantly; they were often found eyeing the candy jars with more interest than was strictly allowed.

“Hey, Joanne!” greeted Danny, a tall boy with an impish grin. “We’re just browsing.”

Joanne’s gaze was sharp, and she was ready. “Uh-huh. Browsing, right. Make sure you don’t touch anything without asking, okay?”

The kids exchanged glances, and Danny’s grin faltered a bit. “Sure, Joanne. We were just... um, looking for something.”

Joanne kept a close watch as the kids wandered the aisles. Her instinct proved correct when she saw them covertly trying to slip candy into their pockets. With a decisive motion, she grabbed the broom that was always at hand behind the counter and walked over to them.

“Alright, enough of that!” Joanne’s voice was commanding as she brandished the broom. The kids froze, wide-eyed. “You’ve been warned. Either pay for what you want or get out.”

One of the girls, a smaller kid with pigtails, looked particularly nervous. “We’re really sorry, Joanne. We didn’t mean to steal.”

Joanne’s expression softened slightly, though she kept her stance firm. “Well, if you’re sorry, I expect you to apologize properly. And if you’re still hungry for candy, here’s something on the house.”

She reached into a jar of sour taffy and handed them each a piece. “Now, scram. And don’t come back without paying.”

The kids mumbled their thanks and hurried out, the sour taffy already making their faces pucker in surprise. Joanne shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. She could be tough when she needed to be, but she had a soft spot for kids who made honest mistakes.

Later that afternoon, the shop was buzzing with the usual assortment of customers. Joanne’s attention was split between ringing up purchases and keeping an eye on the stock. She had just finished wrapping a box of chocolate-covered almonds when a group of older customers entered.

“Good afternoon!” Joanne called out brightly. “Can I help you find anything special today?”

A tall man with graying hair and glasses smiled warmly. “Yes, actually. We’re looking for some old-fashioned sweets. My wife and I are celebrating our anniversary, and we thought some classic candies would be perfect.”

Joanne’s eyes lit up. “You’ve come to the right place! We’ve got a great selection of vintage candies. Follow me.”

She led them to a display of nostalgic treats—root beer barrels, jawbreakers, and nougat bars. As the customers browsed, one of them, a woman with a gentle demeanor, asked, “Joanne, your parents must be proud of how well you’re running the shop.”

Joanne’s heart skipped a beat. She offered her rehearsed response with a casual air. “Oh, they’re on vacation. I’m holding down the fort while they’re away.”

The man raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Well, you’re doing a marvelous job. We’ll take some of these root beer barrels and a few of the nougat bars. How much do we owe you?”

Joanne quickly rang up their purchases and bagged the candies. “That’ll be thirty dollars.”

The man handed over the money, and Joanne gave him a receipt with a cheerful “Thank you for shopping at Sweet Tooth! Have a great day!”

As the last customer left and the shop quieted down, Joanne began her closing routine. She swept the floor, restocked the shelves, and prepared to lock up. The sky outside was turning dusky, the streetlights casting long shadows.

But as Joanne turned the “Closed” sign on the door, she noticed a group of men loitering nearby. Their presence was unsettling—there was something off about the way they hovered around the shop. Joanne’s instincts went on high alert.

She grabbed her trusty stuffed bear from her bookbag, her fingers brushing against its soft, comforting surface. With a quiet murmur, she activated its special magic, and the bear’s plush exterior shifted into a glossy candy material.

Joanne felt a surge of determination. She would protect the shop, no matter what. The men approached, their intentions clear. Joanne gripped her candy bear tightly, ready to defend her parents’ store with all the courage she could muster.

And so, as the evening shadows lengthened and the Sweet Tooth Candy Shop closed its doors for the night, Joanne prepared to face whatever challenge lay ahead with the same fearless resolve she brought to running her beloved shop.

The Sweet Tooth Candy Shop was buzzing with energy as Joanne prepared for a new day. She had been working tirelessly to set up a new display of lollipops, each one intricately shaped into stars, moons, hearts, and other delightful forms. These were not your average flat lollipops; they were grand creations, each one a piece of edible art propped up on sturdy sticks. Joanne meticulously arranged them on the counter, her excitement evident in the way she adjusted each display.

The morning sun was just beginning to shine through the shop's windows when the bell above the door chimed. Joanne turned to see a young boy about her age stepping in. He had tan skin, dark spiky hair, and was wearing goggles perched low on his forehead. His clothes were worn and somewhat shabby, giving him a rough-around-the-edges appearance.

Joanne offered her usual friendly greeting. “Good morning! Welcome to Sweet Tooth. Can I help you find something special today?”

The boy glanced around the shop with a dismissive air. “I don’t want to buy anything from you,” he said, his tone a mix of defiance and disdain. He looked Joanne up and down, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Though he tried to hide it, a faint blush colored his cheeks as he found himself captivated by her determination and spunk.

“I came here to take some candy,” he continued, folding his arms defiantly. “Those kids who came in yesterday? They were working for me. I’m here to take what I want.”

Joanne’s smile faded, replaced by a look of stern resolve. “If you’re here to steal, I won’t go easy on you. I’ve got a job to do, and I won’t let anyone mess it up.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he shrugged with a hardened expression. “I don’t care. I’m a thief, not a saint.”

Joanne’s frown deepened. She wasn’t about to let him walk away with her candy, not after everything she’d done to keep the shop running smoothly. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play it.”

Without warning, she grabbed a handful of the newly displayed lollipops and hurled them at him. The colorful confections flew through the air, but the boy was quick on his feet. With a flick of his wrist, he transformed his left hand into a large, bladed sword, blocking the incoming lollipops with ease.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” the boy taunted, his sword-hand slicing through the air as he deflected the candy missiles.

Joanne wasn’t deterred. She grabbed more lollipops and continued her barrage. “I’m not giving up so easily!”

The boy, who had been ready to steal the candy, now found himself engaged in a fierce battle of attrition. His ability to morph his body into mechanical constructs gave him a solid defense, while Joanne’s candy-throwing skills kept him on his toes. The shop was a flurry of colors and motion as the two clashed, the floor littered with shattered lollipop pieces.

Joanne’s eyes darted around the shop, searching for more lollipops to use as ammunition. Her focus was momentarily distracted when she noticed a giant candy sculpture on a precarious stand. It wobbled dangerously, tilting towards her.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Look out!” she shouted, but the boy’s attention was already drawn to the falling sculpture. Without hesitation, he dashed toward Joanne, tackling her out of harm’s way.

With a swift motion, he shifted his back into a deformed shield, his body morphing to absorb the impact of the falling sculpture. The candy crashed down onto the shield, and for a moment, everything went quiet. When the dust settled, the boy and Joanne were lying on the floor, safe and sound, though surrounded by candy debris.

Joanne looked up at him, astonished. “Why did you save me?”

The boy’s face was flushed, and he looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I didn’t want to kill you. I’m a thief, not a murderer.”

Joanne’s expression softened, and she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “You really mean that?”

The boy nodded, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah. I’m sorry for everything. My name’s Luke. I didn’t want to cause any more trouble. I’d like to make it up to you. If you’ll let me, I could work here at the shop and pay off any damages.”

Joanne’s initial hesitation melted away as she considered his offer. She could see the potential for redemption in his eyes. With a bright smile, she extended her hand. “Alright, Luke. Let’s start fresh. We’ll clean up this mess together, and you can work here to make things right.”

Luke took her hand, his expression a mix of relief and gratitude. “Thanks, Joanne. I promise I’ll work hard.”

Together, they began to clean up the shop, sweeping up the candy shards and resetting the displays. As they worked, Joanne could sense that Luke was genuinely remorseful and willing to make amends. The two of them worked side by side, their earlier conflict forgotten as they bonded over the shared task.

By the time the shop was cleaned up and ready to reopen, Joanne and Luke had formed an unexpected alliance. The Sweet Tooth Candy Shop was back to its cheerful self, and Joanne felt a new sense of camaraderie with her unlikely helper.

As they prepared to open the shop again, Joanne looked at Luke with a hopeful smile. “Let’s make today a great day, shall we?”

Luke nodded, a smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. “Absolutely. And thanks for giving me a second chance.”

With a fresh start and a new friend by her side, Joanne was ready for whatever the day might bring. The Sweet Tooth Candy Shop was once again a place of joy and sweetness, and Joanne couldn’t have been happier.

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oneforthemunny · 1 year ago

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I have an idea!! trick or treating w janitor!eddie & the kids maybe or even rockstar!eddie. honestly any and all the dads going trick or treating with their kids would be fun to see :))

it's tricky |dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!nepo baby! reader|

you can read janitor!eddie's version here and the rest of my spooky story series here!

October 31st, 1999- Hawkins, Indiana

"You got it, Kensie." You coo, grinning at her sweetly, pushing the twin's double stroller in a soothing stride over the dried, fallen leaves that littered the sidewalks.

The four year old looked back, both hands clutching the plastic orange bucket, brown eyes rounded in pure fear, horror- like she hadn't done this at least fifteen times tonight.

"Go up, Kens. Go up with Sephy." Eddie nodded, standing by the path, hands balled in his leather jacket. It was definitely different from Calabasas, that was for sure. Colder, not that Eddie minded- it felt more like Halloween.

The streets filled with kids screeching and darting around in store bought or handmade costumes, not decked in designer looking runway ready being paraded around by their parents on golf carts. It was for the kids, not a social event. Plastic bowls filled with real candy, not whatever the fuck fruit leather is. That had finalized his decision to spend Halloween in Hawkins this year- give the girls a real Halloween.

Persephone gave her sister a bored look, eyes rolling when they met Eddie's with an unamused expression- she looked just like you. "Daddy, she's not going. She's scared." Persephone huffed, five years old and full of sass.

Eddie bit back a smirk. "Go ahead." He nodded towards her. "Kens, if you're not gonna go up, then come stand back here with me."

"No." Kensington shook her head. "You come with me."

Eddie blinked. Every atom in his body screamed "no". He was back in his hometown, with all the fuckers who never left and used to make his life a living hell. Yeah, he'd done better than anyone ever expected, that was an understatement, but he was in their arena here. On their turf.

"Kens, just go with your sister." Eddie countered, crouching to her level. "I'm right here."

"But I want you to come with me." Kensie pouted, arms crossed over her Belle costume, curls slipping out of the bun. "I don't wanna go alone."

The little shake in her voice, eyes rounding nearly pitifully, Eddie knew he was done for, hand reaching to hers, walking up the cobbled steps. You smirked, adjusting the blankets over the twins. He was such a push over now.

Eddie grimaced, heart pounding with dread when Kensington jammed a gloved finger into the doorbell. The door opened, an older man with a bright, festive bowl opening the door.

"Oh, hello there! Look at you." He grinned down at Kensie, her body curling into Eddie's leg, shy at the attention and the stranger.

"What do you say, huh?" Eddie muttered, hand rubbing down her back sweetly.

"Trick-or-Treat." Kensie squeaked, holding her bucket out slightly.

"There you go." The man laughed, dropping a colorful wrapper into her plastic pumpkin. "Have a good- Munson?"

Eddie's eyes snapped, meeting the man's eyes, face falling slightly. "No shit." Eddie muttered, eyes snapping to Kensie carefully. "Principal Higgins?"

"So it is you?" Higgins hummed, lips pressed together, bowl hugged to his hip.

Eddie could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Suddenly, he was seventeen again, being told he wasn't graduating on time. "Yeah, yeah, it is."

"Thought you were in Hollywood?" Higgins' eyes narrowed.

"We live in Calabasas." Persephone chirped, head poking around Eddie's leg. "Not Hollywood."

Eddie cringed slightly, shoulders tense. Higgins didn't scoff, didn't snap at her, no back handed comment- no. He smiled. Laughed.

"I'm guessing these two are yours?" He grinned at Eddie.

"Yeah, and the other two in the stroller- twins." Eddie pointed behind him. "They're with my wife right now."

"Right. The film producer's daughter?" Higgins asked. Eddie nodded, chest boasting with pride.

"Well, gotta admit, I never thought the kid that flipped me off when he finally graduated would do that much in life," Higgins looked at Eddie, eyes crinkling slightly in a smile. "But looks like you did really good for yourself, Edward. Congratulations."

"Thank you. I have." Eddie nodded, hand smoothing down Kensie's curls. "Good to see you, Higgins."

"You too, Edward. Happy Halloween." Higgins waved, shutting the door behind him.

"What candy did you get?" You asked, eyes bright when you looked at Persephone.

"I got Skittles." Persephone grinned, tilting her basket so you could see.

"Oh, you know those are my favorite." You grinned, pushing the stroller down the path with one hand, your free one grabbing Persephone's gloved hand to hold. "Will you share with me?"

"I guess." Persephone shrugged. "Can I go?" She asked, looking at Kensie and Eddie trailing behind the two of you.

"Sure, go ahead. Make sure you say 'thank you.'" You nodded. Her bright pink costume stood out even in the night time. She had insisted on being the pink Power Ranger, so you had a custom costume made. Not as fancy as the other mothers in Calabasas did, but nicer- warmer too. Fleece lined and thick so she didn't have to wear a jacket. It kills the look.

"Kensie, are you going?" You asked, looking at the small girl who had made her way into Eddie's arms.

"No." Kensie shook her head, face rubbing into Eddie's neck sleepily. "Can I sit in the stroller, Mama?"

"The stroller?" You asked, tone light and playful, hoping to keep her crankiness away. "There's no room in there for you, silly girl."

"But I want to." Kensie whined, lip jutting dramatically.

"Hey, stop that." Eddie warned. "I'm holding you. You don't need to go in the stroller."

Kensie's face twisted, nose scrunching furiously. "I want Mama to hold me." She reached towards you.

"Ok," You hummed, taking her in your arms, ignoring Eddie's protests. "I think I need to take the twins back anyways before they wake up, so we'll go back to Grandpa Wayne's, and Daddy will stay with Sephy."

"You know how to get back?" Eddie asked.

"Do I know how to walk in a straight line back to the house?" You lifted a brow. "Yeah, I think I've got it." Your tone clipped, rolling your eyes.

Eddie's lips twisted, rolling his own eyes. "Alright, Princess. We won't be too long." He muttered, pressing a kiss to your cold cheek.

"C'mon, Kensie. Let's go show Grandpa all your candy you got." You hum, one hand cradling her, the other pushing the stroller.

You made it look too easy, Eddie thought, eyes shining in pure wonder, total adoration at you. His bratty Beverly Hills girl turned into a mom- a good mom.

"Daddy, look!" Persephone giggled, waving the bright orange wrapper in Eddie's face. "I got a pumpkin one." She grinned proudly, the Reese's held between her gloved hands.

"Ooh, this is the good house, huh? We gotta remember that for next year. Maybe bring a couple costumes so you can keep going back, you think that would work?" Eddie grinned at the laugh Persephone gave.

"No," Persephone giggled, taking Eddie's hand while they walked to the next house. "They would 'member."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Eddie smiled, squeezing her hand lightly. "I think Grandpa has some back at the house anyways. I bet if you ask real nice he'll give you one."

"He already gave me one last night." Persephone said smugly. "Before bed, but he said not to tell you or-or you'd eat them all."

Eddie feigned shock, like he didn't see the whole "sneaky" interaction. Wayne pulling open the Snoopy cookie jar filled with candy, sneaking her one with a wink, finger pressed over his lips.

"He did?" Eddie gasped, Persephone giggling and nodding. "And you didn't share with me?"

"No," Persephone shook her head at him dramatically. "Grandpa gave it to me. You-You woulda ate it all!" She pointed at him.

Eddie's heart swelled with warmth, dimpled creased smile on his face. "Yeah, you're probably right, kid." He shrugged. "Will you at least tell me where he hid them?"

"No." Persephone shook her head. "But I'll let you have one of mine... and the dots."

"The dots?" Eddie's nose scrunched dramatically. "You're giving me the bad candy?"

"Yeah." Persephone chirped. "You can have what I don't want."

Eddie snorted. She was such your kid sometimes. "Thanks, kid. Make sure you say thank you, alright?" He patted her back lightly, leaning against the fence while she darted away in a flash of neon pink.

Bonus:

"This shit is so gross." Eddie gagged, chewing the impossibly stale but somehow chewy candy. "Who the fuck eats this?" He looked at the bright yellow box of Dots.

"You apparently." You giggled, feet in his lap, a pile of wrappers between the two of you.

The girls had gone to bed hours ago. Persephone was true to her word, leaving you and Eddie her rejects and one Reese's pumpkin. Luckily, Kensie had a few better options you sifted through.

Hocus Pocus played on a loop on the TV in front of you, volume lowered to a hush in the guest room of the Hawkins' home. "Stop eating it." You laughed, slapping the box lightly out of Eddie's hand when he ate another, retching dramatically again.

"It's so bad," Eddie shook his head, face puckered in disgust. "And I can't stop eating them."

"Here," You tossed him a Snickers. "Cleanse your pallet with this, you freak."

Eddie grinned, finger gliding under your foot playfully, making you squeal. "How's the baby doing?"

"They're down still, I think. I haven't heard them-"

"-No," Eddie shook his head, nodding towards you.

"Oh," You hummed, hand gliding down your tummy. You hadn't even started to show yet. "They're good. Liking the candy."

"I think it's a boy this time." Eddie grinned wide and bright, it made your heart skip. "You're less sick this time. You're always sick with girls."

"Yeah, maybe." You nod, unwrapping a Skittles bag. "Could be triplets this time, knowing our luck."

Eddie snorted, nearly choking on his candy. "Can you imagine?"

"A nightmare." You roll your eyes. "The twins almost killed me. I was huge."

"Yeah," Eddie's eyes darkened, grin spreading wider and wider. "You looked so fuckin' hot."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You're sick, Munson."

"I've been told that a few times before." Eddie smirked. "Never heard you complain though. You like it when I'm a little sick, don't you, baby." Eddie growled, tossing the candy to the side, hand wrapped around your ankle to pull you closer.

You squealed, drug through the pile of candy playfully, Eddie's wild curls silhouetted by the glow of the screen. He crawled over you, knees on either side of your hips, straddling you, hands by your head- a familiar position. A dangerous position.

Eddie's head ducked down, bangs tickling your forehead, lips pressed to yours while your legs wrapped around his waist, hands tangling in his hair.

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amomentsescape · 1 year ago

Text

Slashers Creating a Personal Carnival for Reader

Background: Reader becomes overstimulated from loud noises, but still wants to experience what it's like to go to the carnival and have fun. The Slashers want to help make this dream a reality for them.

A/N: This was a personal request I received through my messages. They asked to remain anonymous for this, but I hope they and everyone else enjoys!

Freddy Krueger

This man can literally turn the world into whatever he wants

So the night before, when you expressed how disappointed you were that you couldn't go to the town carnival, Freddy knew what to do

He always wants to make you smile, so seeing that frown was a big no in his book

He took time to plan out what he wanted to do while you were awake during the day

But that night when you went to sleep, you were shocked to find yourself in your very own carnival

There was no one else around, but you could smell the cotton candy in the air and feel the grass beneath your feet

Freddy popped up beside you with a wide smile

"Surprise!"

He then took you through everything you wanted to do

The games had every plushie you adored in multiple sizes and colors

Every ball you threw and every pin you knocked down barely made a sound

He even took you on a rollercoaster and sat beside you

There was a little wind on your skin, but the coaster remained quiet and didn't jostle you around like a normal one would

It was like he knew exactly what you needed in that moment

The night ended with you sharing some fair food together on a bench, the bright lights still dazzling around you

Michael Myers

He didn't quite understand why you were so upset at first

He thought carnivals were overrated and never had a desire to go to one himself

But he could see that sad look in your eye when you expressed your disappointment

You were the only person he actually cared about, so he knew he needed to do something to help you

The next morning, you went downstairs to the smell of popcorn

You could see that things had been changed around in the living room once you were there

There was an old fashioned popcorn maker in the corner

And next to it was an even older skee ball machine

Michael was standing beside them, just looking at your reaction

A huge smile grew on your face at the sight

Michael wasn't one to be sentimental, so the fact that he went out of his way to get these things for you meant a lot

He watched you play skee ball a couple of times before you dragged him over to play with you

He was surprisingly good for having not played before

After a couple more rounds, he pulled out a plushie of your favorite animal

It was a little dirty, but you can tell he probably looked high and low for it

He then sat you down on the chair in front of the TV and put on one of those roller coaster videos from online

You laughed at the video, enjoying hearing all the sounds and seeing the sky

But then the chair started to move in unison to the video, Michael squatting down and shifting it back and forth beside you

You ended the day off sharing popcorn together on the couch, listening to fair music from the TV

Jason Voorhees

The child in him can understand where you are coming from

He also used to want to go to carnivals, but he never felt comfortable doing so because of everyone teasing him

So now knowing that also want to experience what a fair is like, Jason felt motivated to make it a reality

You and him spending time together alone? Perfection, in his eyes

Plus, the woods are the perfect place to do this

Later that afternoon, Jason came inside and ushered you out the door to your confusion

But once outside, you saw an old roller coaster seat, a couple bags of cotton candy, a few small plushies, and an old basketball hoop

You looked at Jason confused before he handed you a basketball, watching you intently

You took a few moments to think about what to do before throwing the ball at the hoop, making it in right away

Jason walked over quickly and picked up one of the plushies, handing it to you

You began to laugh when you realized what he was doing

He quickly sat you in the roller coaster seat and began to move it around, imitating turns and bumps

This made you laugh even harder as he worked so hard to make it feel like an actual ride

You eventually had him sit beside you as you ate some cotton candy, telling Jason how much fun you had and how much you loved what he did for you

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas has also never been to a carnival before

But you explaining what they're supposed to be like and everything made him want to go with you

But he understands how they can become sensory overload

They'd probably be too much for him to handle too

So why not bring the carnival to you instead?

You woke up in the morning to the backyard being all decked out

There were bags on candy and plushies on a table next to a balloon "popping" game

Thomas was super proud of himself for building the game just for you

He took your hand and led you over to everything

He watched you bounce a small ball on a few balloons, handing you a plushie afterwards

(Having the ball bounce was his way of popping the balloons without the loud sound)

He even managed to bounce a couple himself

He also shared some candy with you in between rounds of playing

Thomas eventually took you back inside to the living room where he had a basket and a fan hooked up

He sat you down inside and turned on the fan, letting it blow on you

He then began to push the basket around on the floor, leading you all over the place in the living room

All that could be heard were your giggles throughout the house

Bubba Sawyer

As fun as carnivals sounded, Bubba never really got to go to one either

But all he knew was that you wanted to go but was upset that you couldn't because of the sensory stimulation

So Bubba decided to stay up all night, building what he could out of scrap metal and wood he had around the house

He managed to rig up a game where you tried to knock glass bottles over

He also built a little wooden stand where you could "purchase" snacks and drinks

He even dug a small path in the ground for a small basket to follow

When he excitedly dragged you outside the next morning, you were shocked to see everything

He hurriedly gave you a ball and motioned for you to knock down the pins

He then rewarded you with a plushie even if you didn't get them all down

He offered you candy, gave you big hugs, and even tried to "win" you extra plushies

The day ended with him pushing you in the basket along the dug out path, winding around the yard and making you smile in delight

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms had been to his share of carnivals in the past, but he hates seeing that frown on your face since you haven't done the same

He doesn't like leaving the house of course, but he does the best that he can

He makes each piece of furniture in the house a different ride for you

He even raids the pantries for extra snacks and foods that he thinks you'll like

And his old stuffed animals? The perfect prizes for winning some games!

He waits until the night, waking you up from your sleep to take you downstairs

He adjusted the lighting so it was a little darker, but this made everything else stand out

He put on some music on the record player as he took you on all the rides, giving you hugs from behind

And although they weren't quite traditional fair games, he did the best he could with his parent's old pool table, setting up different plastic cups to knock down

And every plushie you won was a memory for Brahms, which made it even more special

Although a little selfish, he can be quite romantic when he wants to be

Norman Bates

He can't bear to see you cry like this

He'd love to go to the carnival with you, but he also wants to see you comfortable and happy

He decides to close the motel for the day- anything for you was worth it

And after breakfast, you were surprised to see that each motel room had been turned into something different

Some had different games in them

Others had sweets and fair food

And one even had your own little rollercoaster, the TV playing a ride POV for you

You about jumped in his arms when you saw everything

You excitedly grabbed his hand and pulled him along to each room, making sure that he played and ate alongside you the whole time

It wouldn't have been the same if he wasn't at the carnival with you

Your favorite was the rollercoaster though, loving how he stayed close to your side as he moved the "ride" around in unison to the TV

Everything was perfect

And Norman reserved the last room as a little resting area, cuddling up next to you on the bed and asking how you liked everything

He thinks that maybe he should do this again in the future

Billy Loomis

With the carnival coming to town, Billy could immediately tell that something was wrong

When you told him about your disappointment, he wiped away your tears and told you it would be okay

A couple days later, you were at the empty town fair with Billy

All it took were a couple threats from "Ghostface" to the police station for the residents to not show up that day to the carnival

He toured you around for a bit, showing you all the food and rides

And when you were ready, you guys ended up trying out some of the games

He let you pick out whatever plushie you wanted and he got it down for you

He also sat in the rollercoaster cart with you, letting you experience what it was like to be in one with him without all the loud noises and craziness that usually come with the ride

And he happily hopped into a couple different food trucks, pretending to be a worker and asking for your order

It was probably the best date you've had with Billy so far

Stu Macher

Stu despises seeing you upset about anything

He'd go to the lengths of the earth to keep you smiling

So when he told you to come over to his place for date night, you were shocked to see your own mini carnival inside his living room

All of your favorite foods and drink were set out on the table

And he even made his own version of the pin game you'd normally see at carnivals

He may have stolen some of the "winnable" plushies however

But it's the thought that counts in his book

The fact that he did all of this for you was enough to make you cry

He happily took your hand and led you over to everything, explaining what he did and how you both were going to have so much fun

He even made a couple cut outs in a large box he had, allowing both of you to fit in the "rollercoaster" ride

He tried mimicking the actual ride by making funny noises and putting his hands in the air, shaking the box around with you in it

He may have knocked you both over a couple of times, but it was still fun either way

Eric Draven

You're sad about not being able to go to the carnival?

Well lucky for you, Eric has access to his share of empty rooftops, giving you plenty of room to have fun

He spent a couple of nights piecing together different games and foods that he thought you would like

He even bought a few different strings lights to give off that colorful experience you'd see at an actual fair

He waited until the middle of the night once the city was asleep to take you onto the rooftop with him

It was honestly so pretty

The lights, the gentle music, and the cool feeling of the night air was perfect

Your carnival visit was very relaxing too

You played some games together, Eric insisting that he had to play a few rounds in order to win you a plushie

And to your surprise, he "won" you the stuffed animal you had been eyeing in the store a week ago

And any fair food you've wanted to try? Eric somehow has it for you

You both ended the night sharing cotton candy and looking out over the quiet city together, your head resting on his shoulder

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screamingintothestarss · 4 months ago

Text

winner!

summary: you go to an arcade with crosshair

pairing: crosshair x reader

rating: 16+

warnings: light swearing, banter, slightly suggestive content, crosshair being a gremlin, light fluff?

word count: 3.1k

notes: so sorry for the lack of content, school is eating up all of my time rn but we ball regardless. enjoy!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You coming?” A low voice drawls, its serpentine timbre rattling around in your ears.

A carton of mantell mix is plopped into your hands, and you flash the vendor a pretty smile before turning to the voice’s owner.

“Thought you weren’t excited,” you quip, popping a piece into your mouth.

“I’m never excited.” It comes out flat and lifeless, but you know him better than that. Like the popcorn crumbs on your shirt, you brush him off and head towards strobing lights and neon signs.

He’s like a shadow, you’d say: a silent protector–an assassin. He remained in the shadows so your light could shine. Wherever you went, rest assured he was somewhere nearby, keen eyes clear-cut and focused. You remained in his scope, and if someone else dared to come into the picture, he wouldn’t hesitate to take the shot. He took pride in it, silently puffing out his chest and putting on a show for you, and you loved it.

Deft fingers snake their way toward the carton, breaking the shadow, and you quickly pull the box close to your chest.

“Nuh-uh, you said you didn’t want any!”

“Well, I do now,” he counters, a playful lilt to his voice.

“Crosshair, you do this every time. You always say that you don’t want anything, and when I get something, then, and only then, do you want it!”

“Maybe I just like you,” he drawls, and you hate how it has you reeling, stripping your head of all logic and replacing it with cotton candy and heat. You sharpen your tongue, but before your words can spear him, the carton of mix is plucked from your hands, and you groan.

“Are you kriffing-”

A large hand digs in and pulls up a handful. He’s full of smug, lithe body craning down to your ear only to shovel it into his mouth, and then he’s crunching into your ear–loudly. Bleeding behind the eyes, you’re seeing red, and you shoot him a withering glare. He stares at you; your brows knit together and lips all pouty–he thinks he’s fallen in love for the fifth time today.

You’re not having it.

You shove his face away from your ear and try to retrieve your snack, but he’s dodging your attacks with infuriating finesse. You’re flailing around his lean form, arms swinging this way and that without avail. It’s almost like a game: you go left, and he’s going right; you step forward and he’s stepping back: going up? Well, he’s coming back down. Your simmering frustration boils over, and he laughs, the sound burrowing into your ears like a parasite.

This is the most fun he’s had all day, he thinks.

He activates his finisher: holding the mix in one hand and raising it straight into the air. You were done for.

“I swear I’m actually going to kill you!”

“Mhm.”

Then he’s staring at you, and he has to keep himself from getting lost in your colors. He figures red doesn’t suit you though, and sets the box into your hands with a dull thunk. He stalks off, dripping with audacity, and you try not to slip on the puddles.

“You’re such an asshole!” It’s venomous: slick and corrosive, but non-lethal. A part of you knows it’s all in good fun, but it doesn’t assuage the feeling of wanting to rip his head off. You stick an indignant hand into the mix, and your eyebrows shoot up.

It’s nearly empty.

“Your mother’s a droid!”

He ignores your insults, a sly smile smudged across his face. His arms are loosely folded across his torso as he uses his side to keep the door propped open for you. You smack his stomach as you brush past him, and he laughs through his nose, staring at your backside as you fade into bright lights.

A cacophony of strobing lights, sounds, and smells override your senses as you try to gauge where to go first. Familiar blue and white lights catch your eye, and you make your way over.

You stand before a skeeball machine, setting your snack down to run a hand over its console. You’re about to lay a heavy hand on the start button, but realization hits you.

“Kriff, I forgot the-”

“Tokens?” That slithering tone wraps itself around your ears again, and you swallow the annoyance bubbling up your throat. You lazily whirl your body around, and find that same smirk you wanted to wipe off of him earlier. He’s leaning against the body of a machine, little gold coins clinking in his palm as they shift. He’s devilishly alluring, and it's the effortlessness that has you perplexed. He’d be doing the most mundane of tasks, and it would have you fiending, your eyes tracing long fingers and even longer legs.

Cool brown eyes slide up and down your frame, stripping you bare on the arcade floor. You have half a mind to smack him, a staccato tch tch tch snapping off your tongue, but instead you redden, the tips of your ears ablaze.

“T-thanks.”

He slots a coin into the machine for you, and the start button blinks to life. You turn towards him, a question waiting behind your lips.

“You’re not going to-?” The words die in your throat as he gives you that look, and you huff.

“You’re such a buzzkill, you know that?”

He tuts. “You’d lose.”

Oh. Oh.

So that was the game he wanted to play.

Crosshair loved to goad you on, pushing your buttons to see what made you tick. You both were in a constant game of tug of war, and he wasn't cutting you any slack. If this was the hill he wanted to die on, fine: you just had to pull on the end of your rope a little harder.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and shrug. Fronting nonchalance, you lay your hand on the start button with a smack. Blue and white lights snap to strobes of rainbow, and balls dispense from the holder with a hiss.

It's on.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You're moving like a well-oiled machine, gracefully rolling smooth little balls up the lane into little holes.

75 points turn into 100, 100 quickly turns into 250, and 250 shoots up to 500.

Crosshair stands behind you with folded arms, feigning uninterest, but the way you're looking right now chips away at that mask as your points rack up.

The timer runs down, and you get a few more tosses in before flashing red lights put you to a stop. A cheeky grin lines your face, and you saunter over to him, tongue slick with audacity.

"Read it."

"What?"

"My score."

He stares at you for a moment and scoffs. That smug he'd been dripping with earlier was drying up, and you were loving it.

Wordlessly, he strides over to the machine and cranes his head to peek at the purple 8-bit font.

"25,000." The number rolls around uncomfortably on his tongue, and he isn't sure he likes the taste.

Then you're at his side, laying an insincere hand on a broad shoulder.

"Remember it when I wipe ass with you."

Your warm breath fans in his ear, igniting the sparks in his chest. His sharp eyes slide over to yours, oozing with challenge. He straightens, and the glow of the machine highlights that familiar glint in his eye.

He reaches into his pants pocket, retrieving two tokens, the cheap metal slotted between his pointer and middle finger.

"The bet?" And the way it rolls off his tongue has you short-circuiting.

You don't break eye contact though, keeping that grip on your rope. You pluck a token from his fingers and the number falls from your lips with an enviable coolness.

"One hundred."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Your balls were coming out faster."

"Well maybe if you focused on your own balls instead of mine, you'd have won," you snark.

"Don't have to, you give mine enough attention already."

"Crosshair!" you hiss, a confusing blend of heat and embarrassment settles at the base of your stomach, and you're unsure if you want more.

He's laughing again, and that bug in your ear buries itself even deeper, and you wish you could snatch it out.

He may have been down one hundred credits, but he'd gladly throw them to the wind if it meant he could keep drawing reactions like these from you.

But you didn’t need to know that just yet.

He was having too much fun right now.

Your annoyance dissipates as wide eyes lock onto your favorite fighting game: Star Fighters 6. His gaze follows yours, and that smirk plays across his features again. You turn to him, but he’s already staring back at you, and he feels that familiar fullness in his skull; those flowers you’d planted up there all those years ago were beginning to bloom.

He knows you feel it too, and he’s tempted to hook an arm around your waist and lug you through those doors, but you made a bet.

“Crosshair…” you say tentatively, debating giving in to that heady feeling in your gut.

He hums, your voice like a hook in his ear, and he’s being reeled in. He hears his name slip past your lips again, and he’s about to make a break for the surface until he feels something being shoved into his hands. He looks down, and you’d placed the mantell-mix-carton-turned-ticket-bucket into his hand, moving on to play your video game. Like the sun shifting behind a cloud, your warmth had disappeared, and he’d claw his way into the stratosphere to find it again.

You slip a coin into the slot and tinny theme music sounds. It’s balmy and familiar: a blast-to-the-past wave of nostalgia that swaddles your ears like a warm hug. You never held onto your credits for long, laying them in the hands of some moody teenager for tokens in a heartbeat. You made it your own little mission: rocketing up leaderboards, dismantling high scores, and leaving some poor kid in tears. Times were a lot simpler then, so you kept the memory tucked close to your heart, eventually giving him access to that little corner too.

“C’mon, let’s do this one!” You’re beaming, and Crosshair commits it to memory. He almost tells you to stop, wanting to cover your pretty face and lock that smile away for himself. Selfish–he’s selfish.

He nods and slots himself next to you, his frame brushing against your own. You pay it no mind, your head swimming in the bloody waters of combos and finishers. The character selection screen blinks up on the monitor, and you click-clack away at blue buttons; selecting your favorite character and adjusting her stats like it’s second nature.

Crosshair hesitates for a bit, the grip on his rope slipping. He’s like a fish out of water when it comes to stuff like this, flip-flopping around and mouth hanging open after you’ve knocked the air out of him. He was privy to what went on inside that pretty little head of yours: you had the advantage. He’d allow it, for now.

He selects a character and does whatever with the stats before pushing a slender finger down on the start button. You don’t even try to hide the snicker tickling your nose.

His expression is incredulous, a silent what the hell? that has you nearly keeling over, your knees knocking together.

“Nothing,” you sing, and the melody has him suspicious.

He’d picked the worst kriffing character, you thought.

You mash the start button and your characters blink into existence, standing across from each other in some type of natural arena. Their stances exude battle readiness and you lock in, colorful lights fading into black and gray.

You grip the joystick and jerk it to the left, mashing down on the buttons simultaneously, hitting Crosshair’s character with a lethal combo that has him floored. You’re merciless–decisive. If he liked to come at you with all teeth and fangs, then you wouldn’t hesitate to bite. Your moves are devastating; each one leaving his ego all bloodied and purple–but he’d patch himself up later. He wasn’t finished with you yet.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

To say you were shocked was an understatement. That tick tick ticking in your head comes to a full stop, a creaking and crackling of nerves that has you sick. You’re short-circuiting, a droid in disrepair, all of your bells and whistles are going off and Crosshair’s reveling in the chaos. The thought is like poison, something you’d use to silence some unruly senator.

He’d beat you. And he cheated!

“You’re such a-!”

“Winner?” You want to grab that serpentine tone of his by the tail, wrap it around his throat, and pull.

Your eyes flit to the monitor, its bright chromatic screen flashing winner, winner, winner! in the same shade of red you’re seeing right now.

“You pushed me over so you could get the power up! I had you!”

“You would have lost anyways, your health bar was too low,” he shrugs, loose and nonchalant like throwing credits at a dancer. He’s staring at you, feasting on your reaction, and he’s far from satisfied. He’d pulled you over to his side, your feet skidding in the mud, but you had no intention of falling over.

You didn’t want to admit that he’d picked up on the mechanics rather quickly; what took weeks of memorizing a myriad of move sets and tactics for you only took a few rounds for him. You let the salt in your head settle in on the fact that he was a super soldier, learning and adapting quickly was in his genetic code.

It didn’t make it sting any less, though.

“I want a kriffing rematch!”

“Fine.”

You kick his ass this time.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tickets spill from the bucket, the papery material stringing down the container like vines on a tree. They sit up high and bouncy, and you try to gauge where you’re even walking by peeping through the holes.

“You're sure you can carry all that?” He asks for the fourth time, and you have half a mind to chuck it at his handsome face.

“I told you, I got it-”

You collide with something firm and unmoving, and the bucket slips from your palms.

“...sorry,” you’re muttering into his back.

He turns and peers down at you with a pointed look. You don’t even need to meet his eyes to know that it’s there; you’ve seen it plenty. Whether you spilled something, tripped, or stumbled over your words, he’d either laugh or give you that look, a pointy silver brow and the pretty little corners of his mouth downturned ever so slightly. He’s steadfast; severe and unyielding, as Tech had once put it. He was stubborn, sure, but you’d grabbed him by the horns and steered him into your orbit. He was always there for you, like air to your lungs, he’d given you life. It didn’t matter how much shit you spilled or how many times you fell, he’d be there waiting, a rag in one hand and the other reaching out to you.

He’s taken the ticket bucket from you now, and you pretend you’re not grateful.

You shift in your shoes, that familiar ache bleeding into the soles of your feet. You’d both made a day of it, bouncing from game to game like that pinball machine Crosshair whooped you on. You both came to a draw, but the game was far from over. You’d pick it back up another day, you thought.

He feeds the tickets into the counter and that familiar crunch crunch crunching has your ears tingling. You peer over at him, your eyes rolling over the steep slopes and angles of his face, and you think maybe if you were some mathematician, he’d be a perfect object of study. He’s like your favorite meal, you think, you know what he looks like, feels like, tastes like, but you’d never grow tired of him. Never him.

“Take a holo, it’ll last longer,” he drawls, not even having to face you and your shamelessness.

You’re snickering, and he strolls up, handing you a coupon for 2,500 tickets.

“That’s all?” your voice is incredulous, dripping with suspicion. Surely you’d have more than that, considering how you both had nearly gutted the place.

“Mhm.”

You blow, laughing to yourself. You weren’t one for the prizes: a cornucopia of cheap plasticky gizmos and doodads that crumbled like Tatooine sand as soon as you forked over your fortune. You figured a special someone would appreciate the gesture, though.

“Maybe we can get Omega something?”

“We’d have to get Wrecker something too, you know how he is,” he says, and it’s that faux annoyance in his tone that has you chuckling.

“I know just the thing!”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Why’d you get two?” you prod at him, and he bats you away with a hip. Wordlessly, he extends an arm, holding out one of the cartons of mantell mix up to your face. Your eyes narrow, and you see a serpent tempting the unassuming, its tail wrapped around something forbidden and primed to strike.

“You’re screwing with me, aren’t you?” The question is cautious, wrapped in suspicion with a pretty little bow of skepticism on top. You weren’t exactly too keen on having an instant replay of today’s earlier events–served with a side of embarrassment and a bruised ego.

He shakes his head and a small smile splits his face; it should be something sacred, a rare jewel coveted by some royalty on a faraway planet, but instead, it has you narrowing your eyes even further.

You reach a tentative hand out, and ease the box from his hands, ready for him to attack at any moment.

He doesn’t, but instead waves a white flag of truce, and you delightedly munch away.

You both make your way towards the ship, the Mantellian sun making its final descent into the horizon, and Crosshair stops for a moment to watch you glow in its light.

You’re perfect, he thinks, and he feels his heart melt into putty. It was as if the galaxy had compressed itself into your form, lighting a path his gaze could always follow. He chuckles to himself, remembering when he’d first met you, all starry-eyed and pure mischief. He’d readily admit that he found you rather annoying and cumbersome at first; like a raging Wookiee in a cantina, you’d made a mess of his carefully crafted space–a mess he slowly grew fond of. Like ringed ripples in a pond, you created movement within the stillness of his heart, and one day he’d pluck one of those rings from the surface and place it on your finger.

“You coming?”

Lost in the weeds, your voice pulls him back out again.

“Mhm.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

#i swear i'll start adding more fics #i'll try and keep myself on a schedule lol #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clone x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb crosshair

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