#putting them next to each other on my profile gives me so much joy

[gachaparadise]

Got Wriothesley! Not quite a smooth as my Neuv pulls but I had enough Primos for a guarantee soo.... he was coming home whether he wanted to or not.

I lost my 50/50 to Deh/ya. Again. And not quickly either. So. She's back on my shit list. It's over between us we are going to be mortal enemies for a while. The crime of not being Nari can never be forgiven.

Wrio himself took his sweet time afterwards, but not too much. Like 50ish pulls. nowhere near a hard pity but not as quick as Neuv. But it's fine. He did still leave me with juuuust barely a guarantee so the next fellow who catches my eye is in the bag (I'm think Kazuha to go with Neuv)

[maleyanderecafe]

A Double Sided Mirror (Visual Novel)

Created by: Glass Berry Studios

Genre: Horror/Romance

This r18 game is very well put together, especially in the quality of it's assets. This game is entirely voice acted, though in Spanish and it is a joy to play through. I think between the two "forms" I like Charlie a lot better than I like Charles since I really love softer and shyer boys. If you like this game you can check out more of them at @adoublesided

The story starts out with a call between Charlie and his sister, Lucy. Lucy seems to have had a nightmare while Charlie assures her that it's not her fault. Lucy seems to feel guilty that if she had not done what she did, Charlie wouldn't have to deal with such horrible things. Lucy apologizes for calling Charlie late at night, with Charlie mentioning that he has a date in the morning, causing Lucy to freak out a bit, stating that he's not ready to go on dates. A myserious voice explains that it's the reason why Charlie didn't tell her, with Lucy responding negatively.

We cut to the MC the next day wondering about their date. It seems that they have broken up at least fairly recently. They end up meeting up at the mall and wait for their date, however, after a while, it seems that he is never coming. Out of annoyance and anger, the MC ends up going to a cafe nearby and ordering something to drink. After waiting and talking to a scary barista named Cameron, she walks up to them and gives them cake, along with a note. It seems that the cake was bought by someone in the cafe, as Cameron ends up pointing at and it's the person that the MC was supposed to be on a date with, with the note apologizing for being too shy to talk to them.From there, the MC can either decide to talk to him or be creeped out.

If the MC decides to meet up with him, they'll huff about how late the date is and goes to talk to him. He is, first and foremost extremely nervous to see the MC, even telling them that he was trying to get the courage to apologize.

If the MC reassures him, he will start getting happily flustered before the MC starts eating the cake. The MC expresses their appreciation and offers to give some to him as well. He gets flustered as there's only one spoon and gets even more so when the MC feeds him suddenly. He basically gets so nervous he has to eat some drugs to calm down, though when the MC apologizes, he mentions that the drugs are for a condition he's had for a while. The MC wonders why he didn't tell them about his condition, with him stating that he didn't want to think that he was weak and not want to go out with him (which sidenote, that would make me want to go more out with him because bulliable and I like weakness in my men, anyways), which the MC reassures him about. He thanks them as no one has ever said that before, before the MC offers to go on another date with him. They also ended up eating all the cake much to their surprise. Before leaving, he has a big outburst wanting to exchange numbers. They also don't know each other's name as the app makes the two of them exchange nicknames for safety reasons (which seems weird but what do I know about dating apps), and the two introduce each other, with him introducing himself as Charlie. The MC rides the subway back, but while there sits next to someone who is very creepy. The MC feels extremely uncomfortable and panicked and leaves as soon as it hits their stop. When getting back, they are spooked by the sudden notification from Charlie before going to check the fridge, seeing that it's empty. After wishing that they had some more of that cake, the world seems to glitch before the MC notices that a cake did seem to be in the fridge the entire time. They end up eating it before bed and texting Charlie before going to sleep.

If they feel instead off about the situation, they'll talk more sternly to him, not even sure if he is the date at all. He will prove it by showing them their profile, but as they wonder about how they knew where they were after the date, he will then transform into a more confident version of himself. The MC seems to not remember what happened, but as he flirts with them, they realize they didn't tell him that they're not really interested in dating at the moment but rather just meeting new people. When they do tell him, he seems to be amused at the fact that they would think that's bad. When the MC does ask him on another date, he goes back to his shy version again. The story then continues as above.

If the MC is creeped out, they'll realize that it's very strange that he'd know where they were, considering that the cafe was pretty far away from their original meeting place. The MC becomes paranoid that he's been following them around and feels fear of what he could do. They end up throwing away the cake and confronting him, talking about how they waited for a long time and that a cake isn't enough to fix this issue. The guy starts shaking before the MC basically tells him that they never want to see him or interact with him again. The MC then leaves, becoming increasingly paranoid that he is following them and rushes into a nearby bookstore. Once there, someone mistaken them as a bookshop employee before coming back and asking if they are alright. The MC can then decide if they want to tell him or not.

If they decide not to, he will leave, leading to the MC bumping into someone else (who looks kind of like Charlie). He apologizes and notes the MC's behavior. To bring their mind off of their other date, he offers to buy them something near the food court. The MC seems to reject sweets at the moment as it reminds them of Charlie, so instead opts into eating something spicy. The guy ends up buying some spicy wings for them instead. After eating, the guy tells the MC that he actually did seem them in the bookstore and wanted to talk to them, but ended up bumping into them before actually figuring out a way to do that. He introduces himself as Charles and the MC asks for their number, to which he hesitantly says the he left his phone at home, asking for them to instead write down their number so that they can call them later. When getting back, they are trapped in a downpour, but Charles ends up bumping into them and offering them his umbrella for them to both be under. The two of them end up talking, with Charles mentioning that he was using this an excuse to not go to his family's gathering and to hang out with the MC. After some more light flirting, the MC ends up in their apartment, texting Charles before bed and going to sleep.

If they do tell him, the guy will help try to get them away from Charlie and even offers to walk them home. He introduces himself as Jeremy and promises to keep the MC safe. While doing so, we are interrupted by a not very happy creature (presumably Charlie) before going back to normal. As the two of them walk out of the mall, the MC and Jeremy hold hands (out of safety). The MC is able to arrive at their apartment safely and gets a text from Jeremy who asks if they are safe. After this, they notice that they've forgotten to buy food as the fridge is empty and goes to sleep hungry. Before falling asleep they notice that someone (Charlie) seems to be crawling up from the foot of their bed.

I just have to say first of all that this game is really well made for a demo, from the voice acting to the cameos in the backgrounds, to the UI and sprites, everything looks very polished. The more jump scary horror scenes are really good too, with the one where Charlie at the foot of the bed actually making me flinch because I wasn't expecting it. One of the more minor issues I do have is with the trigger warning screen and only because having to open up the game over and over again and having to wait a minute for the trigger warning to finish is pretty tiring. I would have liked it better if perhaps there was a way to skip it on second viewing by clicking on it. This is a pretty minor thing compared to the rest of the story going on.

In this game there are seemingly two yanderes, Charlie and Charles, who are the same person, but are able to change appearance and personality. From what I can tell, Charlie/Charles are closer to being an entity that is trying to become human that is attached onto Charlie. Charlie seems to be the dominant personality of the two as he's not only the first version we see in all routes but also the one we see calling Lucy in the beginning. From what I can tell, the personality/appearence tends to change into Charles when Charlie becomes majorly uncomfortable, as seen when he does turn into a more confident version of himself as well as when we end up seeing Charles after rejecting Charlie. It's likely related to the pulls that Charlie ends up eating in one of the routes after he starts shaking really badly. It does make me wonder if the Charles personality can suddenly appear if something happens, or if Charlie's personality would basically be gone for good. It would also explain the sudden change in his eye color and general appearance as his clothes also change pretty drastically (at least in terms of style, not so much clothing colors).

To no one's surprise, I like Charlie more than Charles because god he's so cute when he's shy. I actually streamed this game to @meo-eiru and we both agree that while he needs to get an outfit change he is way too adorable. The voice actor did a good job making him very shy and changing into Charles or when Charlie becomes a more confident person. From what we can tell Charlie seems to have stalked the MC for a while, even knowing that they went to cafe, but too shy to have actually talked to them, even knowing what kind of cake that they would like. He seems to have some sort of power as well that's shared with Charles, being able to change reality in some sort of way, either by changing his appearance/ personality, but also manifesting items as well, like when the MC wished to eat the cake that Charlie had gotten them only to find it glitched into their fridge. Like I said, Charlie seems to be the "base" personality of the character, likely affected heavily by whatever Lucy did to make him this way and seems to change under stress. So it could be possible that this is some sort of DID, however, it doesn't explain the glitches in reality that tends to happen in the game when it does happen. Most of the time though, we were both like go back to Charlie every time he became Charles. Stay Charlie, you're really cute.

Charles on the other hand is more closer to standard yandere love interests in these types of vns, being a lot more open and flirty with the player and confident. He does have his cuter side to him as well though like when he was spreading his arms excitedly when talking to the MC. Much like Charlie, we do know that Charles does follow the MC around as when he coincidentally was near their apartment when they go home in the rain as well as just bumping into them into the bookstore, though we don't know to what extent Charles and Charlie know of each other. He is at least aware enough that the MC does not want to see Charlie again, thus has to pretend that he's left his phone at home as to not let them know that they actually matched on the dating app. Apart from that, we don't really know too much of the extent of his yandere actions, at least not in the game, since we don't know exactly how much of it intersects with Charlie. We also learn from him that he's not on best terms with his family as he has been avoiding his family reunion, which does sort of make sense considering the interaction we see in the beginning where Lucy (from what I can tell) doesn't react too happily with Charles's response.

Conceptually in the game, there are a lot of mysteries that have been set up already, from Lucy and Charlie/Charles's relationship to who exactly Charlie and Charles are, to what's going on with all the glitches in the story to who if Cameron is going to get killed or not, so we'll have to see what will happen in the future. I do like the concept of yanderes that change depending on the player's actions (because I'm not biased at all as my game, Perfect Love, also does something similar) since that leads to a lot of possibilities. It's already pretty well made from what we see in the demo, so I'm sure it'll be something great to see whenever the full game is finished.

Overall, good game, with an intriguing mystery and well made. Charlie is the best boy and I hope I get an ending where I can kill him with my bare hands (lovingly or otherwise). I would recommend playing this game if you are interested in it.

As a bonus, have a meme that @meo-eir made after playing the game.

[cal-writes]

train au snippet number 2! this time it's namis pov. it takes place after chapter 3 and i think that wraps up train au for now! that's all she wrote™ thanks so much everyone for your love and excitement for this story it was a joy to write and share. if you have questions about the universe that i didnt get into in the main story feel free to shoot me an ask bc i probably thought about it. here is the other snippet and heres the full fic!

-

Nami turns on the bed. Despite sharing it, she and Zoro are miles apart on the king sized mattress. It doesn't even creak in the slightest, only the fabric rustles softly. She loves staying over at Kaya's. Everything is lush and extravagant, like staying at a hotel for free and without strangers. A vacation from real life which is what they sorely needed after tonight. Her dress is draped over one of the chairs next to the bed. In the dim light of the night the wine stain at the hem looks black. She'll have to remember to take it to a different dry cleaners than the one she stole it from. 

She looks over, pulling her hair out from under her head. With the moonlight falling in from the window she can see Zoro's profile in the dark. His eyes are closed, chest falling and rising slowly. 

"You okay?" Nami asks, loud enough to wake Zoro up should he already be asleep. He shuffles around with his eyes closed.

"Yeah. Didn't even hit me." He replies, nonchalant. Wide awake. 

She scowls at him. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Zoro sighs and moves his arms until he can cross them behind his head. He opens his eyes and glares at the ceiling. He shrugs half heartedly with one shoulder. "Was only a matter of time, so."

Nami sits up in bed so she can put her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?" She demands.

Zoro narrows his eye at her. “We both know what.”

“You’re a catch.” She tells him and gives her a look. 

“Right." He huffs, angrily adjusting the duvet around him. "I’ve been sleeping on my friends’ couches for months when I’m not sleeping on a train.”

"So what?" She says petulantly.

"Not to mention 'a hopeless wreck and pathetic child'." He tells her pointedly and Nami scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I said that when I was mad at you, you can't hold that against me." She says and Zoro shakes his head, closing his eyes to deem the conversation over with. Nami pouts. "Even if-," She says and Zoro opens one eye, the vein on his forehead announcing his irritation. "He's a much bigger loser than you. You're perfect for each other."

Zoro groans. "You hate him, what do you care?" One of his hands pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"I don't hate him. He doesn't deserve you. There's a difference."

Zoro sits up, throwing the blanket off of him and his hands into the air. "Yes, of course. The accomplished doctor with his own apartment, obviously the teenage dropout criminal is much too good for him." Zoro's voice says, dripping in sarcasm so she stabs him in the ribs with her nails.

He lets her, rubbing his side afterwards. "This guy paid me 50 bucks to know if you're still alive. He's a mess." She tells him. 

Zoro gets off the bed in a huff. "Doesn't matter who's more pathetic. It's not up to me."

"So you're not even gonna fight?" She says and he glares at her.

Something builds up in him, a tidal wave sweeping in, but it crashes against the shore before he can let it lose. She sees it in the rise and fall of his shoulders. His breath leaves him in a short and violent burst. He shakes his head, shrugging. 

"What's there to fight for?" He asks, letting himself fall on the couch underneath the giant window. The sheer curtains are open, bathing the entire room in the light of the full moon. He pulls his legs up and pops his elbow on the back of the couch, gaze through the glass. "As you said, he got something out of it. I had a good time. Whatever." 

Nami sighs deeply. "Zoro-" 

"Wouldn't have lasted anyway." He tells her sharply. "Nothing ever does." He mutters into his hand and exhales heavily. The brief stint in the holding cell making him all melodramatic. Nami purses her lips. Zoro had been looking forward to tonight, even if he hadn’t said it in so many words. 

The blanket rustles as Nami gets up and her feet pad softly over the carpeted floors. "Come on now." She says, softly chiding. He folds his legs to make room for her on the couch as she joins him, grabbing a pillow to put on her lap in lieu of a blanket. 

Zoro glances over. "Let's be honest. He can do better." He says with misplaced humor, avoiding Nami's indignant gaze. 

She exhales loudly. "Okay, you want to feel sorry for yourself tonight. Fine. I'll let it slide." She tells him before reaching out to grab his chin with her sharp fingers and turn it to face her. "But he would be so lucky to have you. And if he doesn't see that he's an idiot. Don't argue with me, we both know I'm always right." 

Zoro sighs softly, resignation on his face. He knows she won't take any rebuttal so he stays silent, cheeks squished in her hold. She releases him. Shuffling closer until he has to put his legs over her lap. 

She lets her hands fall on his knees. "I know things suck right now." 

"Not more than usual." Zoro says, looking out into the dark. Their view stretches out across the gardens. Out here where Kaya's mansion sits, there are even a few stars visible at night. "Been way worse." He adds. 

Nami sighs again and sinks further down until the upholstery. "True." She admits. 

"I miss Luffy." Zoro mutters into the night. A rare admission. The ache and weight of the night has crushed him underfoot and revealed his mushy center. Nami puts her chin on his propped up knee and wraps her arms around his legs. 

"Me too." She says miserably. Only a little while longer now. She should check when Luffy’s flight is scheduled for again. "He's gonna be so mad at you that you didn't tell him." She says with a small smirk. 

Zoro huffs. "He would have come back early if he knew." And Zoro has been doing just about everything to avoid that. Luffy had been excited about this trip for months. One of the reasons Zoro hadn't wanted to tell Chopper about his situation was because Chopper wouldn't have been able to keep a secret. They both knew Luffy would have dropped everything, helped him, maybe even fought for him against that stupid parent and the police. Zoro would only have to ask but he never would have done that. It had taken weeks for him to even consider crashing at Nami's place. She probably wouldn't even know about it if Franky hadn't told Robin who had told her. And Franky only knew because he had nagged Zoro on the train for days until he spilled the beans. 

It was infuriating, the way he insisted he didn't need help. He was going to figure his own shit out. He always did. 

If she weren't wired exactly the same, she would have throttled him already. 

Nami hums. "Heard back from Kidd yet?" She asks. 

"No. Next week they said." Zoro mutters. She clicks her tongue grumbling under her breath. How long did Kidd need to decide to hire someone when he was desperate for any help in the bar? Bastard. 

Zoro sighs, looking up at the moon above. "Let's go to sleep." 

Nami blows out a breath. "Yeah." She says and neither of them move. Outside the moon makes its way across the sky.

[kevin-the-bruyne]

Nani, I gotta tell you that after the epic highs and lows of ep. 7, I feel like reading your 3 fics about FK's really gay fanday would heal me.

I am so sorry for what im about to do to you. I realize that I have lulled you into the false security that I write fluffy FK from all that is my ao3 profile but there's nothing good that can come from episode 7 and FKs repressed gay desire for each other so uh just know that in some ways you did ask and so you're receiving:

Pairing: FirstKhao Rating: G

Firstkhao post GMM fanday concert

-----

There’s few ways to describe riding out another crescendo next to Khaotung, reaching new highs in his life knowing it’s only possible as his partner, next to him. Khaotung’s face is splotchy from the sweat and tears and the cake of makeup who’s durability he’s testing to its maximum. And he looks perfect, he feels perfect, he feels so much better than what First’s imagination could have ever come up with.

Khaotung takes his hand like he doesn’t have to think about it, and even though his heart rate picks up infinitesimally, fast as it was going already, he doesn’t either. Because this is who they are, always ready to support the other, that nothing is truly off-limits, nothing exactly forbidden.

Khaotung tugs him to the dressing room and doesn’t let go until the door is shut behind them, they’ve done this enough times to know that they both need this, First doesn’t know what call it other than aftercare, of just him and Khaotung coming back down into their bodies together after soaring somewhere beyond the capacity that mortal souls were made to contain.

But there’s an undercurrent of something different today, at least in First. It felt a little like he’d given away a little too much of himself, in his performance. Too many loving looks, too much honesty in the way he'd held Khaotung like he'd never let go. It felt like he’d indulged in his greed for Khaotung a little too much, maybe just a drop past what is durable.

But when Khaotung shines so bright, how can First love him with anything but the whole might of his being. Khaotung falls into him like he always does, like he loves First with all of his being and 

When Khaotung is like this, small and trembling from the drop in adrenaline, makeup smudged from where he’s finally been rubbing at it because it irritates his eyes, a smear of glitter and a cacophony of the stench his cologne and sweat, shirt loosened, looking almost debauched as he’s tucked in First’s arms how can First love him with anything less than everything he has to give.

“I love you, Fir.’ Khaotung whispers into his shoulder.

What can First do but hold him tighter and say it back.

“I love you too, TungTung. More than anything else.”

And it’s so easy and so simple, so sincere in the way that it’s absolute that he doesn’t feel the need to add, “maybe more than I should” because what’s the point in that. What’s the point in qualifying it beyond the joy of having Khaotung right here, right next to him. 

Khaotung looks up at him, his eyes glistening, playful like on stage, holding magnitudes in the way that he shouldn’t. What does it matter when Khaotung closes his eyes when First puts his hand on his cheek, fingers tangling into the cold grime of hair gel pooling at Khaotung’s hair to pull him close. What does it matter when Khaotung shivers and exhales like he’s slotting into place, when First pushes their foreheads together and loves him with a greed that cannot be satiated until he’s consumed Khaotung whole.

What does it matter when he gets to have this, Khaotung pulling him close and loving him back with a sincerity that shatters his heart.

What does it matter, when even if it’s just in this moment, he feels that Khaotung is his and it fills him with a contentment so deep that he can spend lifetimes basking in it.

[autumntouched]

Hello lovely, thank you so much for your honesty. I am guilty of 'likes' without making any other comments and I'm ashamed to say I thought I was showing my appreciation but I can see that it's not enough. I've had SO many thoughts about Talk To Me but for some reason I've always felt embarrassed about sharing them as though I'm maybe overthinking??? You have given us an absolute gift with your writing. At a time when life seems generally hard with no light at the end of the tunnel I love to disappear into the world of hannix. Put yourself first but remember that there are people out there who let out a little 'squee!' when they see you've posted an update.

I’m so sorry that this medium (lol and sometimes just my emotions) means communicating in a way that makes anyone feel shame 😭 Thank you to my mutual who talked me down from the spiral 😅 I agree with Brené Brown that shame isn’t a great place to start a conversation or to address how we interact with one another. Some of you have mentioned being new here, and I’m also sorry if my post made you feel unwelcome while you’re learning a new platform ❤️ Please always feel free to drop into my messages if that’s easier/ more comfortable

It meant so much to me that you took the time to introduce yourself! Your ask came with such consideration and appreciation bb. And I’m so excited for it. I just wanted to find the joy in the Football Rivalry again so I give you the same thing every other answer has received ❤️ I hope that’s okay

Please share all the thoughts!! No one is EVER overthinking something they love. I learn so much from what people share. Talk to Me is what it IS because of the thoughts and analysis people contributed. It is SO much better because of them and everything that I wrote since is so much better because of them. On my end, I will say the way I respond to comments is by incorporating them into the way I think about what comes next. I do my best to respond to everything on tumblr but sometimes, time constraints means focusing on the writing and answering that way. I hope people understand that. Another work is a long form response to the shares and comments. Also, if you’re sharing or commenting on something old, you are still contributing to the writer’s current and future work! Please “overthink” away and don’t feel embarrassed. I spent hours (days, weeks) on each chapter of Talk to Me doing my best to carefully thread the story and themes, to plant the character pivots, to explore their psychology and choices. Even my daily one-shots can take 8 to 10 hours to write to build out who the character is in that moment, their relationships, the people around them. Even my recurring OCs have character profiles 😂 Then there’s hours of research and working through things that need tweaking. And I don’t have a beta so it’s also the time spent doing my best to trim and edit my own work so I can get it out as fast as possible. Maybe with that context it won’t feel like overthinking 😅

I’m so glad Hannix is your “squee”!!! We all do need a lot of that now, don’t we ❤️ I think it’s…writers aren’t always writing from the best place in their lives. I overdrew my well here. My life was a disaster, writing was a distraction and I didn’t know how to ask for a refuel before I ran out of gas. I’m still learning how to do that. I wrote a happy post because that seemed easier for people to understand and more acceptable than the truth that I was sad and hurt and withdrawing. It’s true, I’ll need more time for the reasons stated. But I get my squee from knowing you all get your squee. So I came back to see if maybe we could all get our squee? I want to keep giving what joy I can ❤️

[smallestapplin]

Hi, I love reading your works, they are honestly the highlight of my day and are so cute!

May I have Ingo, Professor Sycamore, Piers, and Adaman who loves to draw them? But they do it secretly and one day they come across the sketchbook with draws of them and think it’s cute.

Ahhh comments like yours are the highlight of mine!

-

-

🔲Ingo🔲

- he’s probably seen you a couple of times carrying around a sketch book, but never questioned it.

- He is very much a ‘if they wanted to share it, they would’ kind of person. But he thinks your concentrated face is adorable, you look so focused.

- Now Ingo would never snoop a day in his life. Especially with your things, he views that as a huge trust violation.

- He was cleaning up the house a bit. You were at work while he had the day off. And Ingo wouldn’t to clean up, less things to do when you got back.

- Your sketch book was open when he found it, like you had gotten up in a rush and forgot to close it.

- The subway boss stares in awe at your work. It’s a detailed side profile of him making dinner, everything from the lighting, the shading, the colors of his apron, just everything.

- The subway boss is almost in tears he is so flattered and in love with it. He doesn’t flip through it but he does confess to seeing it when cleaning.

- “I’m deeply sorry for seeing it, I didn’t flip through it but the page I shall was beautifully done, you’re very talented! I adored every detail. I understand if you are upset with me.”

-

✨Sycamore✨

- Curious as ever as to what you have in your sketch book but never pries after you say no.

- Though jokingly he will pose stupidly on his desk “draw me like one of your Kalosian girls!” Which does give you a good laugh, but that’s what he was going for.

- He found it in his office and didn’t recognize the cover so he flipped through it.

- His assistants and the receptionist all looked confused when his squeals echo in the building.

- He is blushing and cooing at every last drawing.

- His favorites are ones where you draw him interacting with his Pokémon. The amount of joy and love he feels is unreal.

- So much joy is he hugging you the next time he sees you.

- “I’m sorry for looking, but oh my dear sweet flower those are works of art! Such beauty! And exquisite detail! Oh I could feel the amount of love and hard work you put into each piece!”

- Feel free to whack him for looking, he expects it, but that’s not stopping him from praising you and your work till the end of time.

-

🎸Piers🎸

- A lover of expressive art forms! He loves seeing your art, he straight up forcibly paid you for a drawing of his Obstagoon.

- A reverse robbery if you will.

- A little bummed you don’t show him much else, cause he sees you sketching all the time and he’d love to just sit down behind you and watch. But you’re so secretive.

- His Skuntank brought the book to him. The rockstar recognized it immediately.

- “Don’t ya know it’s rude to touch other peoples stuff, bud?”

- Well….maybe on peek at your latest project wouldn’t hurt.

- Completely caught off guard and flushed at the sight of all your doodles of him. All the love being poured into each sketch.

- And like that he’s falling in love all over again.

- You actually found Piers sitting on the couch, gazing oh so lovingly at the pictures in your sketch book.

- “Love I..this all so wonderful, I’m at a lost for word, you really think of me as your muse? I’m honored.”

- He is as bashful as the day he asked you out. He does apologize for looking though, he won’t do it again.

-

⏳Adaman⌛️

- Nosey nosey man.

- You’re being constantly asked “what are you drawing? Can I see?” You’ll likely only show him the sketches that aren’t of him to try and get him off your back. It only fuels him to ask more.

- Of course he saw your sketch book unattended, he tried being strong, he wanted YOU to show him, not see for himself.

- And it’s an invasion of privacy! You’d be so mad if he snooped through your things. That and he wanted you to show him, it would be like you fully trusting him.

- The clan leader takes this seriously.

- Fifteen minutes past before he caved.

- Just one little peek, then he’ll act like nothing happened.

- Instantly flipping through and ‘ooo’ing and ‘aawww’ing at everything.

- You find him on his bed with your sketch book fighting tears. He is extremely honored, so touched, he feels so loved.

- “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t…well I did, and I’m sorry I did, but these are amazing! You view me like this? I’m so honored! I adore this so much, I can’t begin to describe how happy this makes me, you find inspiration in me? That means the world to me.”

- Adaman gives you the go ahead to hit him for his snooping, but he gushed about your own work to you.

[aliwritesss]

~ Labyrinth

Pairings: Eric x reader

Genre: Fuckboy au!, angst

Summary: “How did I end up being like this?”

You were laying in your bed trying to remember when was the exact moment you knew you were in trouble, when you knew that there was no going back.

But you couldn’t.

You couldn’t remember when was the moment you let your walls down and let him enter your heart. And you were starting to think it happened the first moment he laid his eyes on you.

When a pair of deep brown eyes looked at you and made you feel everything.

They warned you so many times, that he wasn’t the right boy, that you could be friends with him but that’s it.

To not fall in love with him.

And if you could have a time machine you would go back in time and not go to that party.

Where everything started.

Kevin kept saying he wanted to go and that it wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t going, so he ended up convincing you to go to his fraternity, TBZ frat.

You were expecting the unexpected like always, but you wouldn’t have thought in a million years that night was going to start one of the best and worst moments of your life.

You walked in ready to have a good time, greeting your friends and classmates and ready to dance and relieve all stress you’ve been under for the past few weeks.

But you felt something was off, and you couldn’t catch why.

And then he appeared, like he was the owner of the whole universe. Once he entered your eyes were glued to him, he had this power every time he was in the same room as you. He attracted you like a magnet, and you could fight all you want but that wouldn’t change anything.

But something changed that night, something made him look at you, go to where you were standing, take your drink and sip without breaking eye contact. You lied to everyone and said that it didn’t affect you, but he made you feel weak.

You couldn’t say anything for a hot second, too shocked to say something but if you knew something is that you weren’t going to let him go so easily, he was hot and all, but you weren’t going to let anyone, not even Eric Sohn, treat you like an easy girl.

“ Are you thirsty?” You asked him with your most sensual voice.

“ I’ve been dying to take a sip since I came.”

“ Let me help you with that.” And the next thing you did was to throw your drink on his shirt.

“ Next time ask, asshole.” You replied to him. He was too shocked to even notice the way you were shaking, but someone needs to put him in his place.

And now that you think about it, maybe that is what you did wrong, you caught his attention.

He kept his distance from you at the party but the next day he had this superior smile again in his face.

“ I hope you know what you did last night was a little bit messed up, love.” He said.

“ And I hope you learnt that you can’t go around taking sips from other people's drinks.”

“ Seems like we learned a lesson yesterday, Y/N.”

And since that moment he started going with you more. You were acquaintances since both of you shared the same group of friends, but the only conversations you had with him were superficial.

He started to wait with you for Kevin or Jacob, talking to you more and opening slowly. And suddenly you were texting each other lame things late at night and you couldn’t stop smiling.

He made you smile and that was dangerous.

Everytime you locked eyes with him, you’d feel this warm feeling spreading around your stomach, making you feel like no one did before. He had the power to make you feel like you were the only one in the room. But still, you thought you had everything under control. And you did.

Till one night he texted you he needed to see you.

You were worried, you didn’t expect from the cool Eric to actually need someone so you took some things and went to his dorm.

You remember perfectly the image you saw the moment you entered his room, an Eric crying on the sofa, not being able even to look at you straight in the eyes.

“ What’s wrong Eric? What happened?” You told him worriedly. Once he heard your voice he lifted his head up and went to hug you.

“ Don’t leave me Y/N. If you do, there's nothing left.” He says quietly on your neck. You didn’t know what was wrong at the moment but one thing you knew is that he needed you and you were never going to leave his side.

And that's how you stayed the whole night, hugging each other and running your hands through his hair till he fell asleep. You don’t know how long you kept staring at his profile, the curve of his nose, his lips, how soft they looked, his eyelashes, how short they were but still so thick. You traced the letters of his tattoos delicately while smiling softly. Even though they were small, he always bragged about them.

And days started to pass and you felt how Eric attracted you more and more, how you started to care about what he was doing, if you were going to see him on the weekend or if he would text you the next day. He entered your heart without knocking and there wasn’t a way back now.

He came to stay and you didn’t know when he’d leave you without telling first. But deep down you knew, you knew that this game was going to end one day. That you’d wake up one day he wouldn't be next to you.

Despite everything, you still hoped that he’d stay forever with you, and maybe in another life he would have but the universe can be sarcastic sometimes.

He had the power to light you up like Venus, to break you down into tiny pieces and putting it all together again. And he told you, one night he told you he was up to no good, that you deserved better but he couldn’t let you go. He was addicted to you and that he was sorry for being so selfish.

You want to laugh out loud now, because he was right.

He was being selfish. But still, you needed his touch, to hear him laugh, his hugs.. You needed him. And even though you had a million reasons why you should give him up, you didn’t.

The boys told you a million times to stop this game, that the one that would end up getting hurt was going to be you, he cared about you but he wasn’t going to make you his first priority. But it’s funny how blind you can be when you are in love with someone.

You thought he was bringing joy to your boring life but he wasn’t, he was sucking the life out of you. And the worst of it, it’s that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He truly cared about you, but you weren’t the only one.

And one day you woke up crying, you looked at yourself in the mirror and saw a broken and addicted girl.

You had a fight for a stupid thing again and that ended up no talking for 10 days.

Yes, you were counting them.

But you had enough.

You weren’t going to keep playing this game anymore.

And that’s how you ended up laying in your bed now. One month later and still recovering. Everyone told you that you made the right decision but you still think that you should’ve reached him and talked to him and made him choose.

But you were afraid he wasn’t going to pick you.

So you ran away, since that’s the only thing you can do perfectly.

You stopped checking what he was doing everyday and tried to stop thinking of him. Key word, tried.

You still cared a lot about him.

The worst of it was that you knew he was in pain.

You saw him one day on campus with Sunwoo and he looked devastated, he didn’t have that superior smile anymore, there were bags under his eyes and Changmin told you he wasn’t even sleeping in his room anymore. He couldn’t when you weren’t there to hug him, he said.

You can’t understand why two people who were madly in love couldn’t be together, but sometimes not everything is about being in love.

You almost reached to him one day, but then you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t have this spark in your eyes anymore, the one he always lit.

But you also saw that you gained a little bit of weight, that you were starting to sleep better, that you were actually getting your shit together and that you weren’t dependent on anyone anymore. And that made you feel good for the first time in a while.

You grabbed your things and made your way to class thinking “who knows, maybe one day he’ll realise what he lost and comes back, ready to love me but in the right way”.

A/N: Hey guys!! Here’s my little AU of Eric. I’m going to do a series for this one, but I’d like to know if you prefer if it’s before this takes place or after? Like how was getting to know him, falling in love... lots of fluff scenarios but also a lot of angst. Or after the break up, it’ll be have fluff scenarios since you two get back but will not have that much of angst like the first option.

Let me know what you’d like to see in the comments!! ❤️❤️

[sequinsmile-x]

Bait

In which Aaron looks like the victims of the case they are on, and Emily does not like Dave's suggestion that they use her boyfriend as bait.

This was originally meant to be a mini fic for here, but in a way that is very on brand I got carried away and now its a full on one shot.

Words: 4k 

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence 

Read on AO3 via this link, or below the cut

Let me know what you think! 

Emily wakes to the sounds of a phone ringing. She groans when the arm that had been wrapped around her waist moves, leaving the chill from the air to hit her skin.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rough with the early morning, and it was clear he’d had very limited sleep. She settles down further into the bed, trying to claim the last few moments of rest before they have to leave. “Ok thanks, Garcia. Call the others and tell them to go straight to the jet.”

He hangs up and lays back down behind her. He closes the gap between them, pressing his naked chest up against her back. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer, nudging hair away from her neck with his nose so he can kiss her throat.

“Morning.” He says, nuzzling her neck. “We’ve got a case in Colorado. We’re meeting on the jet and Garcia is going to brief us in full once we’re wheels up.” He kisses the side of her head. “She’ll call you soon.”

“It’s way too early.” She grumbles, opening one eye to see it was only just 4am. She bats at him when he laughs into her neck. He grabs her hand and kisses her knuckles, laughing when she grumbles again, curse words whispered at him under her breath.

The longer they had been together, now 6 months since his fumbled attempt at asking her out on their first date, the more she felt uncomfortable that they were keeping this from the team. It was starting to feel like a dirty secret, when it was anything but. They loved each other, they’d had a serious conversation about their future. Discussions of a house, a wedding and children whilst laying in the dark together. But they still hadn’t taken that step, still hadn’t told the people they considered their family that they were a couple. Emily knows it’s because they were in too deep now, too far into this secret to claw their way out without there being some uncomfortable conversations.

She knew they’d be happy for them, but it would open their relationship that had been almost exclusively just for them up to scrutiny. The others would watch them, try to observe their behaviour around each other. Their relationship meant too much to her for it to be profiled like the criminals they chased.

She was surprised they hadn’t caught it at JJ’s wedding. Her and Aaron had danced together, his hand a little too low on her back for it to be considered friendly. How they had both disappeared into Dave’s house at the same time, gone for 30 minutes with poor excuses for their absence upon their return. She still couldn’t go into Dave’s first floor bathroom without blushing, memories of her pushed up against the door with Aaron’s hand over her mouth. His joy at her decision to stay, to turn down Clyde’s offer of a job across an ocean, was too great for them to wait until they got back to his home or hers.

Her phone rings and she sighs as she extracts herself from his embrace just enough to pick up her cell phone from the nightstand. “Hey, Pen.”

Emily tries to listen to Penelope as she gives her the same basic details she had given Aaron only moments before, but she is distracted by his lips against her neck, his hand drifting down her abdomen. She manages to catch it with her spare hand, gripping a little harder than necessary when she links their fingers, throwing him a look over her shoulder.

She hangs up the phone with a goodbye to Penelope, hoping the other woman hadn’t heard Aaron’s laugh he had attempted to press into her skin. “That was mean.”

“It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

Emily turns over and kisses him, anchoring her hand to the back of his head. She pulls back enough to smile at him. “Do you have a suit here?”

Aaron nods, kissing her gently. “Yes. And my go-bag is in my car.”

She smiles. “Perfect.” Another kiss. “That means we have time for a shower before you have to go.” _____________

When she steps onto the jet the only seat left is next to Aaron. He looks at her, an eyebrow raised as she sits next to him.

“You’re late, Prentiss.”

She looks at him pointedly, a subtle narrowing of her eyes that she knows he catches.

“Sorry, sir.” She says, biting back the temptation to say it was his fault she was late in the first place, their joint shower lasting twice as long as it should have done. He’d left her at her place less than half an hour ago, a kiss pressed to her lips as she was drying her hair, a promise that he would see her soon. “It won’t happen again.”

Emily fights a smirk at the brief sparkle in his eye. This had become part of their game, pushing the boundaries a little further each time, wondering when the team would catch on to what was going on between them.

They all make small talk as the jet takes off, pointless conversation over cups of coffee. Once they reach altitude Penelope calls and they start to go over the case. Emily freezes when she looks at the pictures of the victims. They are all male. Handsome. White, tall and broad with dark hair.

They all looked like Aaron.

And these men were being viciously beaten to death. She looked up and everyone was still listening to Penelope as she told them the details. It gave her a second to recover, forcing herself to tune back into the conversation around her. ____________

They were struggling to build a profile. The men who were being killed had little in common apart from how they looked and where they were being killed. The only bar in town, a dingy place that reminded Emily too much of her misspent youth.

On the second day they were in town another man was found dead in the alley behind the bar, his face beaten almost beyond recognition. Emily went and delivered the news to his widow, and desperately tried to ignore how much the man in the pictures displayed on the walls looked like Aaron.

She barely sleeps that night. They were good on cases, rarely sneaking into each other's rooms. She knew he had to have seen it too, that she wasn’t imagining how similar the victims looked to him, so she didn’t want to burden him with it. She didn’t want to make this about how it was making her feel. So she stayed in her room, and eventually drifted off to sleep in a bed she wished he was in too.

Emily wakes up gasping, images of Aaron’s dead body in that alley burned into her eyelids.

She doesn’t sleep again that night, and is grateful when he presses a coffee into her hands in the morning, his thumb discreetly skating over her knuckles. ____________

“What shall we do now?” JJ asks. There were concerns that the unsubs, because they had figured there must be more than one person given the size of the men being killed, would strike again that night. The devolution of their actions indicated that there would be an attack a night until they were caught.

“We just so happen to have someone on the team that matches the victim profile.” Dave says, acknowledging what none of them had said out loud in the three days they had been in Colorado. Everyone looks at Aaron expectantly, and Emily thinks she has never been closer to killing David Rossi. “We could plant you at the bar where the victims have gone missing from, see if we can draw the unsub in.”

“And what?” Emily says, somehow keeping her voice even. “Use Hotch as bait?”

“It’s our only option.” Aaron says, a flash of apology across his face as he briefly looks at her. “I can’t exactly wear this to a club.” He says gesturing to his suit. “I very clearly look like an FBI agent.”

Derek and Dave laugh at his attempt at humour, Emily does not.

“Hotch.” She says evenly, her voice not betraying the emotions that were tumbling around in her chest. He turns to look at her, his face neutral. “Can I have a quick word?” She tilts her head towards an empty office and he nods and follows. If the others think it's odd that she wants to speak to him alone they don’t say anything.

“I don’t like this, Aaron.” She says as soon as the door closes behind them, her voice a rushed whisper, not wanting anyone to potentially overhear if they walked past the tiny office. He opens his mouth to speak, but she talks again, cutting him off before he can even start. “We don’t know enough how the unsubs are doing this. Or why they are doing it. It’s too risky.”

“Emily.” Aaron says, his voice soft in a way he only usually used with her when they were alone, tangled up in his sheets or hers, or snuggled together on one of their couches. It makes her sigh, and she closes her eyes to briefly break eye contact with him, knowing he is about to convince her exactly why he had to do this despite her reservations. “We have no other choice. I fit the victimology and we can’t risk them killing someone else.”

“What if this was the other way around?” She asks, crossing her arms across her chest as she tries to reason with him. “Are you seriously telling me that you’d be fine with me going in there? That you’d be ok with me being used as bait after you’d spent the last few days looking at pictures of bodies of people who looked exactly like me?”

Aaron opens his mouth to disagree with her, but a simple raise of her eyebrows stops him. “No, I wouldn’t be ok. But we have no other choice.”

“I don’t like it.” She repeats, defeat making her voice shake slightly.

Aaron turns to look out of the window of the office they are in, and when the coast is still clear he grabs her hand, running his thumb back and forth over her wrist. “It will be fine, sweetheart.”

Emily nods, the protest that he doesn’t know everything would be fine dying in her throat. All she could do was sit back and watch as he put himself at risk. Her love for him stuffed into a box in her head where no one else could see it, the privilege JJ had of breaking down publicly when Will was in the bank not afforded to her. She squeezes his hand back, and wishes more than anything that she could kiss him.

“If anything happens to you, even just a scratch, I’m teaching Spencer just enough Italian to piss Dave off.”

That makes him laugh, a brief flash of his dimples settling her nerves in her stomach. “I would expect nothing less.”

“We should get back.” Emily says, extracting her hand from his. She grasps the lapels of his jacket. “And you’re right, you need to change. You look like a fed.” ____________

Emily keeps staring at the monitor, the CCTV from the bar displayed for the team to watch in the back room they were in. She keeps her eyes on Aaron, her thumbnail in between her teeth, as they waited for any sign that the unsubs were around. That someone besides them was watching him.

“You ok there, princess?” Derek asks, drawing her attention towards him. He is eyeing her curiously. “Worried about the boss?”

She can feel Dave and JJ’s eyes on her too, she pulls her thumb out of her mouth and clears her throat. “I’m just not comfortable with this idea.”

“And why is that? Hotch can hold his own.” He replies, an edge to his voice she doesn’t like.

“It’s because Emily and Hotch are sleeping together.” Spencer says without looking away from the monitors, his eyes still on Aaron.

“What?” Derek asks, snapping his head in Spencer’s direction.

“How the hell did you know, Reid?” Emily says, turning to Spencer. She always figured that it would be Dave who would have figured it out. His meddling tendencies well known.

Spencer turns to look at her, taking his attention off of the CCTV footage. “You’re both happier but trying to hide it. Jack said your name 9 times the last time we were all together, indicating that he is spending more time with you in a personal capacity, and you and Hotch both came to work this morning smelling of the same soap.” He explains, Emily’s blush deepening as he spoke. “Not to mention I saw you kissing in the parking garage last month.”

“You’ve known for a month?” JJ says, smacking his shoulder lightly. “Why didn’t you say anything?

Spencer shrugs, looking back at Emily. “I figured they weren’t telling us for a reason.”

“You are a terrible gossip.” Dave says before looking back at Emily. “So how long has this been going on?”

Emily sighs and rolls her eyes, wishing that this wasn’t happening now of all times, that she could at least have Aaron with her for back up.

“6 months.”

“6 months.”

She says at the same time as Spencer. She looks at him again, unable to cover her surprise at the fact he had apparently known all along.

“6 months?” Derek exclaims, genuine surprise on his face. “Why did you keep it from us that long?”

“Guys.” Spencer says, trying to interrupt the conversation but failing.

“We just did, ok?” She says, crossing her arms across her chest. “We were going to tell you.”

“Guys.” Spencer says again, firmer this time interrupting whatever Derek was about to say. They all look at him, varying degrees of annoyance on their faces. “Where is Hotch?”

Emily felt like ice water had been poured over her, fear flooding her veins as her head snapped back towards the screens. Her eyes flicked across each image displayed and she couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Derek.” She chokes out, her voice not quite sounding like her own.

“Shit.” Derek exclaimed, already striding out of the room, Emily and the rest of the team on his heels. ____________

They find him in the alley behind the bar, two men holding him down as they punch him, one of them managing to kick his ribs. There’s no time to figure it out, no time to wonder how the hell they got Aaron out of the bar in the two minutes they had been distracted.

“FBI.” Derek yells, his gun drawn and pointing at them, local cops right behind him with their guns raised too. The unsubs try to make a break for it, but don’t manage it. Derek being a little too hard with the takedown of one of them.

Emily doesn’t even think about what she does as soon as they are apprehended. She’s naturally drawn to Aaron’s side, helping him sit up.

“What the hell happened?” She asks, wincing as she takes in the blood on his face. His nose was bleeding, and his left eye was already bruising. She cups his face in her hands, thumbs gently moving over tender flesh.

He tries to shy away from her touch, his eyes on JJ and Spencer standing behind her. She turns to look at them and raises an eyebrow, both of them averting their gazes. She turns back to look at Aaron, a shy smile on her face.

“Everyone knows.”

He furrows his brow at her. “How?”

“That’s not important right now.” She says, cupping his face, wiping some of the blood that had gathered at the bottom of his nose away with her sleeve. “What happened? We had our eyes off of you for two minutes and you were gone.”

“I spotted them, they fit the partial profile we had.” He explains, as if it was obvious. “So I followed them.”

“What were you thinking?” She exclaims, smacking him in the shoulder, hard, before grabbing his face again and kissing him. “That was so stupid, Aaron.” She kisses him again.

Emily wraps her arms around him tightly, pulling him into a hug that makes him wince. She lets go instantly, her hands on his shoulders as she looks him over for any other obvious injuries.

“Shit, sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok.” He gets out, his face screwed up in pain despite his attempt at assuring her. “They just got a few good kicks to my ribs.”

She looks around, sees a paramedic standing back waiting for the scene to be cleared. “We need to get you looked at.”

“Em, I’m fine.” He protests, his breathlessness at the act of standing up giving him away as he pushes himself up off the ground.

She glares at him. “You are not fine, Aaron. You just had the shit kicked out of you by two men who wanted to kill you.” She holds his hand, links her fingers through his and gently tugs him towards where the ambulance is parked. “Let the nice paramedic look at you before I kill you myself.” ____________

He needed to get x-rays done. The paramedic was concerned that his ribs could be broken, and therefore insisted he went to the hospital to get checked out. Aaron tried to talk him out of it. He’d had broken ribs before, and claimed he knew how to handle them, but then he had looked at Emily’s face, how concerned she was, and he stopped resisting.

Emily was sitting nervously next to the gurney he was on whilst they waited for the results of the scans he had on arrival.

“Em.” Aaron says, making her look up at him from the spot she was staring at on the floor. “I’m ok.”

“You’re ok because we found you when we did.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “If we’d been only a couple minutes later…”

“But you weren’t.” He reaches out for her hand and she accepts it, fiercely holding his one hand between both of hers. “I’m ok.” He repeats, pulling their joint hands to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles.

“I love you.” She says, a sad smile on her face as she has to stop herself from looking at the dried blood on his shirt, or at how his eye was now swollen shut. She interrupts him before he can reciprocate, repeat the words back to her that they had only said out loud for the first time a few weeks ago, even though their actions had shown it long before. “You put yourself in unnecessary danger today.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Aaron.” She says, moving so she was sat on the edge of the gurney. She leans down and presses her forehead to his, not caring how ridiculous she would look to anyone who walked in. Her FBI bullet proof vest is still on over her sweater, her gun on her hip. “You can’t do that.” She pulls back to look at him. “You can’t, ok?”

“Em, our jobs are dangerous.”

“I know that.” She replies through slightly gritted teeth. “We both have scars to prove it. But today didn’t need to happen.”

“It was a measured risk.”

“A measured risk that could have cost me you.” She says, her voice finally wavering. “I can’t lose you.” He opens his mouth to talk but she presses a finger to his lips. “And you can’t say that I won’t, love. We both know you can’t promise that. But you don’t have to offer yourself up to unsubs like a lamb to slaughter, ok?”

He clearly disagrees with her, she can see it written all over his face, and on some level she knows she isn’t being reasonable. That the emotion of the day is clouding her judgement, in a way she usually wouldn’t let it. He nods though, presses a kiss to the finger still against his lips and it makes her laugh.

“Ok.” ____________

He has three fractured ribs and several bruised ones. He initially refuses painkillers but Emily convinces him to take them, memories of how painful take off on the jet had been after her beating at the hands of Cyrus all those years ago.

Aaron falls asleep against her. He is sitting slightly slumped in his seat, his head leaning on her shoulder. His breath makes her hair tickle against her neck and it calms her, reminds her that he was still there, that he was still alive.

Emily looks up from her paperwork to the sound of a throat clearing, and she sees Derek sliding into the chair opposite her, a curious look on his face. The team had met them back at the jet. Dave explained that the unsubs were brothers, finding men who reminded them of their father who had all but drank himself to death in that very bar when they were young. It seemed so banal, so stereotypical to Emily it infuriated her.

The team clearly had questions about what they had discovered about her and Aaron, but they were silent about it. Emily wondered how long that would last, if they would at least wait until Aaron could see out of his left eye again before they started asking about their relationship.

“Can the Spanish inquisition wait at least until tomorrow, Derek? I’m tired.” She asks, a quirk to her smile.

He holds his hands up, mock surrender on his face. “I’ll leave it for now, Princess. But if you think for one second that our beloved technical analyst will do the same, you are kidding yourself.”

Emily laughs at that, before groaning. “She’s going to be delighted.” She says, looking briefly at Aaron before looking back at Derek. “She’s been trying to tell me to give this a chance for years.”

“Really?” Derek asks, his eyebrow raised.

“Oh yeah.” She replies, a smile on her face. “It’s a common topic on ladies night.”

Derek smiles and looks at her curiously. “You love him?”

Emily bites her lip “Yeah.” She nods. “I love him.”

“I’m happy for you, Emily. For both of you.” He stands, heads back to where he had been trying to nap before he had walked over, but he turns back to her. “You owe us all dinner. Somewhere fancy.”

Emily barks out a laugh, briefly disturbing Aaron from his slumber on her shoulder. “Whatever you say, Morgan.” _______________

She takes him back to her place. It was too late to get Jack from Jessica’s, and she figured he’d want some time to prepare his son for his injuries anyway.

He’s pretty out of it from the pain and the medication, but she gets him into her bed, managing to get him down to just his briefs and under her covers. She quickly gets ready for bed herself, forgoing her usual skincare routine with just a swipe of a makeup wipe over her face.

She climbs into bed next to him, careful to put more distance between the two of them than she usually would. She turns the lamp off and settles into her pillows, ready to try and get some sleep.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” He asks, his words thick with sleep.

Emily rolls onto her side and reaches out for him, stroking her fingers over his shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You never could.”

Emily suppresses a smile in the darkness. His inhibitions were always lowered at night in one of their bedrooms, his affection for her blowing over her like a warm breeze. “Baby, you have broken ribs.”

“Come here.” He reaches out for her and she moves towards him, not wanting him to hurt himself any further by dragging her across the bed. He shifts, grimacing as he does, and rests his head on her shoulder. “That’s better.”

She laughs. “We can’t sleep like this. It won’t do either of our backs any good.”

“Just 5 minutes.”

“Ok, honey.” She says, kissing the top of his head. “5 minutes.”

“Love you, Emily.”

“I love you, too.”

[donaidk]

Looking at me - Arthur Leclerc

Thank you so much for requesting! I already had an idea in my head for something like this and you just gave that last push! It was my first time writing in third person, and I really-really need the practice. Still I hope you will enjoy this 😀🧡 Have a great weekend everyone!

Inspiration song

Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

Getting a chance to walk a well known fashion show at the age of 19 was a huge step in her career. She had jobs and photoshoots all the time, but everyone knew that you’re becoming a name in the industry when well known brands ask you to model for them. She already had a photoshoot with one of them a year ago, but having that break since then and now made her think she probably wouldn’t make it into the real fashion world. However, after Alpha Tauri gave her a chance thanks to Pierre, she was contacted by a well known brand just days after the release of the pictures and they asked her to attend their show at the end of the year. Having the promise of such a big show got her through every harder moment throughout the year and she felt like December couldn’t turn up quick enough.

Luckily as it was well after the end of the season for Pierre he could attend with their parents and siblings. She couldn’t even imagine going through something like this without them. Y/N used her last two guest seats to invite both Charles and Arthur. They were friends of their family and she knew Charles was into fashion and would always take the opportunity to attend shows. He probably could have bought tickets to it himself, but it wasn’t the same as being invited by someone who worked for the company that time. It was also probably the only way to make it seem less strange that Y/N would have liked Arthur to attend. No one asked questions why he was there if he came with his brother. There’s no easier way to do it.

The two of them were quite good friends, as they spent most of their childhood together and later could connect over being younger siblings to well known athletes. It was probably easier for her as she at least went her own way while Arthur was following in Charles’ footsteps, exactly. He was a talented driver, but people and the media always loved to compare the brothers, always bringing down at least one of them even though they were never really in the same championship or position at the same time. They usually talked at least weekly, but after harder races or attacks from the media either Y/N reached out to him or the other way around. It was just easy to support each other as they understood each other’s challenges and hardships. They couldn’t complain though, as both had family and other friends who supported them in their careers and personal lives also.

“ They’re outside. ” Pierre’s voice got her to jump in her chair a little before Y/N took in what he said. “ I’ll get them to the seats and we will meet after the show, yeah? ” He asked, taking the passes from the table next to her. She knew they wouldn’t have time for her to greet their friends and get back here in time.

“ Yeah, thank you. Enjoy. ” Y/N nodded with a grin before getting a kiss on her cheek from him. “ I’m gonna try not to trip. ” She added with a chuckle before he left, watching as he closed the door after himself while she could still hear him laugh. She leaned back in her seat as everything was already done for the show, and it was now just minutes until the start of the show.

She finally chose a photo from the morning when we arrived at the avenue, to share it on her story. Making sure it uploaded fine she could see Arthur’s profile picture in the bottom left, telling her that he already saw it, making her smile immediately. Y/N sent him a quick selfie with her eyes closed and holding up a peace sign as the grin still didn’t leave her face. She was just about to put her phone down when he sent one back, mimicking her pose and making her laugh out loud. He did look silly and seeing Pierre so confused in the background of it just made it even better. She wanted to respond but then had to leave when they were calling her name from the hallway. With one last deep breath she fixed her hair in the mirror before leaving the dressing room and following all the girls to the backstage.

She felt like an anxious mess right until it was her turn and had to step out onto the stage as they counted down for her from the sideline. She made sure her dress wasn’t in the way of her steps, although knew they practiced for any possible outcome and knew she would manage even in a dodgy situation. Her heart was beating so loud Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if the people watching the show could hear it over all the music and talking. She still tried to look cool on the outside, her grin not faltering for one bit as she walked down the length of the stage stopping at the end and turning for the cameras. Her way back was a bit more relaxed already, knowing she did her job and just had to get back from where they started. She had one more dress at the end of the show but that seemed a lot easier after such a smooth sailing first appearance. The second one felt like a treat for a job well done and she was ecstatic as she changed into her outfit for the after party. Her body felt sore from all the excitement and then adrenaline that already left. However, her mind was still running and looking forward to the night as she went to the lobby where she knew the others would be waiting for her.

“ You looked stunning out there, Y/N! ” Charles greeted her with a tight hug, making her chuckle quietly. Stepping back from his embrace the next ones were Pierre and her family before Y/N could finally turn to Arthur, not forgetting about him in any way.

“ Thank you for coming. ” Y/N said before hugging him, although it was something that was for his brother too, not just him. “ Hope you’re not too tired yet. We have a long night ahead of us. ” She let out another laugh after letting go of him but she didn’t even get to step away too much before he held up a bouquet of blooming flowers.

“ Just a little congratulatory present. Wanted to give it to you prior to the show, but that didn’t really work out. ” He said with a little blush creeping up onto his cheeks, as she took the flowers from his hands, immediately smelling them.

“ Thank you, they’re beautiful. ” Her eyes were still fixed on the bunch of them, taking in how sweet it was of Arthur. It was made from all of her favourite types of flowers, not missing any from the short list she could make up in her head. “ I’ll make sure they get home safe. Wouldn’t want to kill them at the club. ” Y/N let out a little laugh, turning to her mum while they exited the building together.

Luckily her family offered to take her things back home while they went straight to the venue of the after party. Her other siblings went home too after some last minute hugs, leaving the four of them to be the only ones to attend. There were cars that took the guests to the rooftop bar that was decorated perfectly for the occasion. The moon was shining onto the balcony, but there were also lights running over them, making sure everything was visible and people wouldn’t trip over each other or the few steps around the bar and dancefloor. It was the perfect setting for a party that was relaxed but at the same time a true after party, where everyone could let out their pent up energy and adrenaline from the show.

Minutes after they left the elevator, that took them to the floor of the balcony, they were already standing next to a table with their drinks on it. They were watching the crowd dancing just inches away from them while discussing the day. Pierre and Charles were deep into  one of their usual disagreements about their past season, making Y/N shake her head. It wouldn’t have been them if they got through a day spent together without a silly argument. That would have been too easy. She has been watching the crowd blocking out the bickering coming from next to her, gathering courage to join the dancing even though she never backed off being the center of attention it wasn’t the same with strangers. She knew just a few people from here, almost half of it being the ones she invited herself.

“ A dance? ” She turned to Arthur in the end when she could see that his glass was empty. He froze for a second, looking around them. “ You don’t have to, but I would rather turn deaf from the loud music than them roasting each other. ” She chuckled, cocking her head towards her brother and Charles standing across them. She took the last sip of her drink and was about to get into the crowd when Arthur nodded and putting down the glass from his hand was ready to follow her.

“ I’m not a big dancer, I’m warning you. ” Arthur sighed, but wouldn’t have denied himself the chance to spend some time with her in a more private setting. They never mentioned anything about stepping up their friendship, but that didn’t mean they never thought about separately, in their own heads. 

Y/N took his hand with a grin, pulling him towards the dance floor, weaving through the people standing close, leaving them a sliver of space to navigate their way. They had to stop a few times people stumbling in their way or bumping into them while they were getting closer to their destination. Y/N saw two of the girls she knew a bit better, and decided it will be better to be with friends than alone. Arthur greeted them, quickly introducing himself and even though they were already safe, standing in a less crowded space, in the moment Y/N didn’t let go of his hand while they enjoyed the music and the company. Arthur did take part in the dancing, although several of his moves ended up making them laugh and him blush a little although it never made him stop. He was happy to be the source of their joy for the night.

A few songs later Arthur excused himself from the group to get a drink for himself, while the girls stayed in the same position. Y/N spotted a few guys just seconds after he left, watching them, and approaching their group as soon as Arthur was out of the view. They were quite rude, not caring about how the girls tried to ignore them and get them to leave finally. Y/N was about to just leave and not even look back when she felt a hand come around her waist. Without looking up at the owner of the hand she got to know who was standing behind her by just the voice.

“ I think you should search for another company. The ladies aren’t interested. ” Arthur informed the intruders and by knowing him for years, Y/N could tell he was really focusing on the pronunciation. He seemed serious, like never before and it did the trick, getting the guys to turn around and leave mumbling some swears in his way.

“ Thank you! For both. ” Y/N smiled up at their saviour, taking the half full glass from his hand as he held it out for her. Arthur just shrugged his shoulders, relaxing his shoulders and taking a sip from his drink.

What they didn’t see was Pierre and Charles paying close attention to their group from afar. Her brother still had his fists clenched but he was slowly letting up as the situation got resolved and the younger ones could continue enjoying the party and drinks. Looking at each other they agreed with a sigh at being glad Arthur was there with them and helped them get out of a sticky situation. From the outside they did see how the younger Leclerc and Y/N were around each other, although neither of them wanted to push them towards a goal. It seemed simple, inevitable, but they wanted them to find their own way. It wasn’t rare that the only possible way wasn’t the best way in the end. Meaning, even if they looked compatible for an outsider, it was possible that a relationship between them wouldn’t be long-lived.

They stayed until their legs felt sore from dancing and standing around, and their minds were in a comfortable fuzzy state from the few drinks they got. The night wasn’t young anymore when they got into a taxi, heading for Pierre’s apartment that had enough space for all four of them. They all took turns in the shower and decided on who will sleep and where. There was only one guest bedroom and in the end Charles gladly gave it up to Y/N saying she was the one who worked today, taking the couch with a duvet and a pillow. She was about to just go and finally get a chance to fall asleep, when Arthur stepped out of the bathroom now in his pajamas. For a second she debated if she should just let him sleep on the other couch or maybe act on her idea.

“ We can share the bed if you would like. It's big enough for two people. ” She offered in the end, with a shy smile, pointing towards the bedroom down the hallway. “ I promise I won’t snore. Unlike Charl. ” Y/N let out a quiet laugh, making sure the mentioned brother didn’t hear it and wouldn’t try to get back at her for it.

Arthur had to agree with a sigh that sleeping in the same room as her brother, would have been on the same level as some late torture methods. He couldn’t really deny the offer, taking his things as they wished goodnight to the others and walked down to the bedroom. Within seconds they were both under the duvet, managing to share it and not pull it off the other one. They did start out quite far away from each other, but Y/N couldn’t be fed up when she woke up in the middle of the night to an arm draping over her waist. It grounded her while she had to get used to her surroundings and helped her get back to her dream right until the delicious smell of lunch got them back to reality around midday. They shared a moment, gazes locking, before getting out of bed with grins on their faces, both deciding to push the conversation to another time. At least until lunch, as Y/N’s stomach grumbled as soon as she was standing next to the bed.

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Composed of the Elements

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:  When a case takes the team to (Y/N)'s home town, her best friend Spencer helps her leave all the baggage behind.

Title Song: Sweet as Whole, Sara Bareilles

Word Count: 2705

Warnings: high school bullying, brief mentions of a case, smoking

“Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.” -Oscar Wilde

~

You walked into the bullpen with a coffee in one hand and your phone in the other.

“Morning, (Y/N),” your best friend, Spencer, called from his desk.

“Morning, Spence.” You sat down at your desk. Before you could get settled, JJ announced a case.

“We’ve been called in to a small town in Indiana,” JJ said, clicking on the slide projector.

“Wait. When you say small town…” you said, feeling your body tense.

“We’re going to (L/N)’s hometown,” Hotch confirmed. After going over the details of the case, he said, “Wheels up in thirty.”

Spencer reached for your arm, but you were up and moving to the bullpen before he could catch you. He watched as you grabbed your bag from your desk, ignoring Morgan’s attempts at conversation. Your usual peppy, outgoing self was gone, replaced with a stranger.

When the team gathered on the jet, they discussed the case together. You sat at the back of the cabin, staring out at the clouds, tapping on the table in front of you.

“Hey.” You looked up to see Gideon sitting in front of you. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “I never thought I’d be going back there. I thought I could leave and never look back.”

“Hey, I know it isn’t easy, but we need your help. You know this town and the people in it. That can help us.”

You sighed and stood up. “Fine.” Walking over to the team, you said, “One thing you need to know about these people: they don’t like outsiders. At all.”

“What do you mean by outsiders?” Hotch asked.

You scoffed. “Anyone who isn’t born and raised in the town. Even if you’ve lived there for years, if you weren’t born in Newton, you’re not to be trusted. You’ll see first-hand when we meet with the local PD.”

“What about the victims?” Derek asked you.

“I knew both of them in high school,” you said, flicking through the file. “But I don’t know what anyone has been doing with their lives.”

Spencer couldn’t help but notice the sadness in your eyes. Despite his aversion to touch, he reached out and rested his hand on top of yours. You were his safety net. He loved you, as more than just his best friend.

~

When the team got to the police station, you stuck to the back of the group while JJ and Hotch made introductions.

“Detective Miller,” Hotch said, holding his hand out. “I’m Agent Hotchner. You’ve already spoken to Agent Jareau. This is SSA Gideon, Dr. Reid, SSA Morgan, and SSA (L/N).”

“Wait. Little nerdy (Y/N) (L/N)?” the detective said, finally noticing you. “Wow, who would have thought you’d come back to Newton?” You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes down.

“Do you have a place we can set up a case board?” Spencer asked, noticing your unease.

“Sure.”

“Did you know the victims well?” JJ asked him.

The detective nodded. “We all do. Kelly’s my son’s teacher. Julia and I dated in high school. Our kids are friends.”

“Does everyone in town know each other well?” JJ asked as she helped you pin the crime scene photos to the board.

“Of course. We’re like a family. When your town only has 300 people, you have to look out for each other.” You couldn’t hold back your scoff. “You have something to say there, (Y/N)?”

“She’s Agent (L/N) to you,” Gideon interrupted. “JJ, Julia Coleman’s family is here.”

~

“You look different,” Detective Miller said to you as you worked late to help nail down the profile. “You look good.”

“Detective Miller-”

“Come on, you can call me Tim.” He stepped closer to you. “You don’t have to be so professional.”

“Excuse me,” you said, though it was no more than a whisper. You slipped out of the room and stood outside the precinct, leaning against the wall. You pulled a small box out of your jacket pocket.

“Since when do you smoke?” Spencer asked you, coming up next to you.

You lit a cigarette and took a drag before saying, “Since high school.” Seeing Spencer’s concern, you said, “Relax, I haven’t for a while. It’s only when I get really stressed.”

“You know, each cigarette takes about seven minutes off your life.”

“If it’s seven minutes I don’t have to spend with Timothy Miller or anyone else from this damn town, then I don’t care.”

“What did he do to you?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, (Y/N), it’s me. Talk to me. Please?”

You looked at your best friend’s pleading eyes and sighed. You put out your cigarette and said, “You know I didn’t have a good high school experience. After my mom died, my dad moved us to his childhood home. I moved schools halfway through the first semester. I was the weird new kid who wore all black with braces and clunky glasses and was way too into Stephen King books. I was an easy target.” You cleared your throat. “Julia and Tim were my biggest tormentors. When they dated, it was worse.”

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked.

You chewed your lip. “Tim asked me to the prom when he and Julie were on an off period of their relationship. I got so excited, like an idiot. I mean, I knew he didn’t like me in that way. After all, why would he?” You laughed, but there was no joy behind it. Spencer felt his heart clench at how you saw yourself. He thought you were the most beautiful, amazing woman to ever exist.

“But I thought at least I’d have a friend, you know? I rented a dress and did my hair, all that stuff. Tim said he was going to pick me up. He never came.” Your eyes burned with tears at the memory. “The worst part was, my dad didn’t know there was anything going on. After-after my mom died, he gave up. When he wasn’t working, he was drinking and smoking.” You shook your head. “Tim just brought all those feelings back.”

Spencer reached out and wiped the tears off your cheek. “You didn’t deserve any of that. No one deserves that.”

“Carrie was my favorite book in high school. I wonder what that says about me.”

“Why don’t we head back to the hotel?” Spencer offered, holding his hand out to you. “Rest might help us with the case.”

~

The next morning, the team discovered there was another murder. Misty Lincoln had been killed in the same way as the other two victims. Spencer was graphing the geographical profile while you sat at the table, staring at the crime scene photos.

“You see something?” Hotch asked you.

“I’m not sure. Uh, could I- could I take like two hours? I think there might be something that’ll help us in my dad’s old things.”

“Sure. But you’re not going alone. Take Reid with you.”

You knew better than to argue with your boss. “Yes, sir.”

When you and Spencer got into the SUV, your fingers started tapping the steering wheel as you drove, letting muscle memory guide you. You pulled into the parking lot of a storage facility. Spencer followed behind you as you passed row after row of storage units. When you finally stopped, you flipped through your keychain until you found one you were looking for. You hadn’t spoken to Spencer since getting in the car back at the station, and he was starting to worry.

After you opened the door to the unit, you looked at Spencer. “After my dad died, I moved all his stuff here. I got rid of some stuff, of course. What would I ever do with an old couch that had more cigarette burns than upholstery?” You ran your hand over a white garment bag. The golden lettering was faded, but Spencer could still make out the word bridal, and what he could infer was the word boutique from the few remaining letters. “Some things I just couldn’t get rid of.”

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Spencer asked you, picking up a picture at the top of an open box. You were between who he could only assume were your parents, and you all looked happy. You looked just like your mother. The small you, who couldn’t be much older than 8, clung to the woman’s side. Your father had his arm around your mother’s waist. It all looked very domestic.

“Sure,” you said, digging through a box at the back of the unit.

“Why have you been acting so different since we got here? I mean, you’ve been acting so meek and timid, which isn’t you. I once heard you threaten a cop that you would, and I quote, ‘shove your foot so far up his ass that he would taste the mud on your shoe.’ What’s going on?” He set the frame back on the top of the box.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess… I spent so long trying to distance myself from this place and when I came back, I was back to being a scared little 15-year-old.”

“But, you’re not, (Y/N). You’re strong and confident.” It was then Spencer heard you sniffle and noticed you were crying. “(Y/N)?”

You wiped your face. “Sorry. It’s just… I worked so hard for the image of me that you all see and-and I’m just so afraid that being here is going to erase all that. I worked so hard at the Academy to form an identity that wasn’t this and-”

“(Y/N), (Y/N), hey,” he said, taking your hands in his. “Breathe. Our image of you is not going to change just because your old tormentors are here. I- uh, we, the team, we love you. You’re our family. I think Garcia would riot if Hotch ever tried to get rid of you.” You chuckled at that and it made him smile. “Now, how about we get out of here and work more on our profile?”

~

When you got back to the precinct, Hotch asked you, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah.” You pulled an old yearbook out of your bag. “All the victims are from the same graduating class, and they were all in the same extracurriculars. Look.”

“We’re ready to give the profile,” Gideon said after flipping through the book.

Your team gathered the police department to deliver your preliminary profile.

“We’ve come to the conclusion that our unsub can only be a local,” Spencer said. “He-”

“There’s no way,” Officer Miller interrupted. “No one in this town would do that. Besides, why would I trust this walking stick insect over the people I’ve known my whole life? You’re wrong, Stick-Bug.”

“How dare you,” you said, stepping forward. The rest of your team stepped away. They knew what was coming. No one would say it, but they all knew how you and Spencer felt about each other. “How dare you talk to Spencer that way. Captain Bell invited us here to help you find out who’s murdering members of your community. You have no right to talk to my family that way.”

“Your family? These people are your family?”

“A family is anyone who makes you feel loved, and by that definition, yes. These people are my family. And if you ever talk to any of them like that again, I will bring your life crashing down around you with one simple phone call.”

“Oh, look who’s finally got a backbone,” Tim laughed. “Little (Y/N) thinks she sounds all big and threatening.”

“It’s not a threat, Timothy, it’s a promise,” you said. “And I’m sure Captain Bell would take you off this case if I told him you have a conflict of interest. I’m sure he’d love to know you’d had an affair with one of the victims. You and Julia never could stay away from each other, could you?”

Spencer fought a smile at seeing you return to yourself, as well as seeing Timothy’s face pale. He chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a way to thank you.

~

The case was finally over. Like always, Spencer had been right. The unsub was a guy from your graduating class who felt the women from your class shunned and mistreated him. Thankfully, you were able to sympathize with him and get him to come in without any extra violence.

Hotch was giving the team the night in the hotel before heading back to Quantico in the morning. You were flipping through the channels on the hotel’s TV, already in your pajamas by 8:30. You finally settled on some old reruns of Friends when there was a knock at your door. You groaned and extracted yourself from your blanket cocoon and trudged over to the door.

“Spence? What are you doing here?” you asked after opening your door to reveal Spencer, still in his work clothes.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.”

“Spencer, I’m in my pajamas-”

“That doesn’t matter. Just, come with me. Please?”

You tugged your old sweatshirt on and followed Spencer down the hallway, to the elevator.

“Where are we going?” you asked him.

“It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

“You trust me, right?”

“Of course, I do, Spence. You know that.”

“Okay well,” he covered your eyes with his hands and guided you forward. He dropped his hands and said, “surprise.”

You were standing on the patio of the hotel’s restaurant, the tables had been pushed to the side and lights were strung up all around.

“Spence, what’s all this?” you asked as he gently pulled you to the center of the patio.

“A way to say thank you,” he said. When he saw the confusion on your face, he said, “For sticking up for me at the precinct. I know it must have been hard to stand up to Detective Miller. And-and I remember you telling me that you don’t have many good memories here, and then I thought about your prom story, so…” He held his hand out to you as music started playing. “May I have this dance?”

You smiled and took Spencer’s hand. He rested his free hand on your waist, and your free hand rested on his shoulder as the two of you gently swayed to the soft music coming from the patio’s speakers.

“How’d you pull this off?” you asked him.

His smile was a bit sheepish. “Morgan and Garcia helped me pull some strings.”

“Of course they did. Garcia is the all-powerful puppet master.”

Spencer laughed as the two of you continued to dance. When Spencer heard you sniffle, he stopped and pulled away.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He brushed a tear off your cheek. “Did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head and smiled at him. “No. It’s happy tears.” When you saw that Spencer still looked confused, you explained, “I never thought I’d have someone in my life who cares about me this much. I mean, look at all this. You did this just to make me happy.” You rested your forehead against Spencer’s and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. Spencer’s arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Of course I did. I love you. I-I mean, I care about you. Because you’re my best friend and-”

“Spence,” you said, stopping his rambling. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering for just a moment.

Spencer’s brain, which usually worked at three times the speed of the average person, slowed to practically a halt. You had just kissed him. The girl he’s been longing for just kissed him. She kissed him . You were about to say something to him when his brain finally caught up and he kissed you back.

When the two of you pulled apart, you said, “Well, I guess my prom was worth the wait.”

Spencer smiled at you and kissed your forehead before continuing to dance with you.

~

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." -Anais Nin

[writinglizards]

someone wanted us to kiss for a picture and i thought you were gonna stage kiss me w/ your thumbs in the middle buT NO OH MY GOD THATS……………..THATS A REAL KISS WOW OK au -- another writing prompt I lost the link to 💖

Okay, so this got WAY out of hand, but here you go! <3

Title: A Portrait of the Artist in Love

Summary:  Jaskier's senior exhibition requires he present a sequence of cohesive photos representing a theme of his choosing. Geralt, after seeing the photos in person, notices one's missing.

Read on Ao3

"So what's the matter?" Geralt finally asks when Jaskier stomps through the living room for the third time in under twenty minutes, his eyes still firmly trained on the tv set. He can't look like he cares too much or Jaskier will shut down on him, he knows.

"What's the matter is I've got my senior exhibition in two months and I still haven't settled on a fucking theme, that's the matter," he bites out, back to the sofa and hands threaded firmly through his hair, tugging hard.

Geralt sighs. All of Jaskier's problems seem to circle back to his senior exhibition. "I thought you had some photos?"

"I did," he says, tone venomous, "and then Valdo decided he was going to do a series on music and I refuse to compete with that pompous arse." Geralt bites his tongue against the 'why does what Valdo's doing matter?' He knows better.

"So? What are your ideas?" Jaskier shifts as if to speak, "and don't tell me you don't have any, I know you do." He clicks the tv off and shifts around to face Jaskier's back as he sighs, shoulders going slack.

"I want to do something personal," he says, and Geralt can hear the frustration in his voice, "something important. Not--" he can picture the way his face is scrunched up just from his tone, "--not something predictable, something trite. I want to do something meaningful."

"Okay. So make it personal. What's important to you, Jaskier?" he asks, voice soft, and watches as Jaskier's shoulders gradually go taunt again.

"Oh. Oh I could--" he cuts off, whirls around, and the nearly manic light in his eyes makes Geralt smile.

"There you go," he says, and Jaskier beams. The look on his face steals Geralt’s breath, tightens his chest. Jaskier crosses the room, headed for his bedroom slash photo studio and presumably his camera, but he pauses at the couch to squeeze Geralt's shoulder tightly.

"Thank you, darling." Geralt just rolls his eyes and clicks the tv back on.

* * * *

Jaskier never does share what idea he settled on, even after Geralt had asked, a few days later. He'd ducked his head, blushing, and told Geralt not to worry about it, it was fine, he'd get to see when it was done, and Geralt had let it go. Jaskier tends to hold his projects close to his chest until he's done with them anyway. It’s not personal.

They're seated at a cafe waiting for Yen to drop off Ciri for their afternoon trip to the zoo and Jaskier is, predicably, fiddling with his camera.

"Do you have to bring that everywhere?" he asks, tone light and teasing, and Jaskier only sticks his tongue out at him.

"Yes, you oaf, I do. I'm working," he snips, and then he lifts the camera and in a quick movement snaps a picture of Geralt's face.

"Jaskier."

"Just a test photo, love," he grins, not at all apologetic. Before Geralt can pitch anything close to a fit about Jaskier taking more photos of him (and out in public, no less), Yen and Ciri are stepping through the door. Ciri gives a delighted little shriek the way only children under five seem to do and throws herself at her father. Geralt catches her around the waist and hauls her into his lap, both of them laughing, and the photo is promptly forgotten about after that.

* * * *

"Can I come with you?"

"Why?" Geralt asks again, frowning at Jaskier where he stands next to their couch, shifting nervously with his camera clutched to his chest, "you don't like the barn."

"No, but I like Roach," he insists, "and I want to get some pictures of her. I haven't in a while." Geralt narrows his eyes.

"Is this about your project?" he asks, and the way Jaskier splutters is answer enough.

"Can't I just want to take nice photos of my best friend's lovely horse? Come on Geralt, I don't always have a reason." The color high on his cheeks says otherwise.

"Hm." He hefts his supply bag over his shoulder, "come on, then."

Jaskier practically beams the entire trip to the barn, even after he nearly slips in a spot of mud when they get there. His pure, simple joy is infectious, leaves Geralt grinning right alongside him. And if Jaskier takes pictures of him the entire time? Well, he's always taking pictures anyway.

* * * *

"Jask, my guy, must you always bring that stupid camera?" Lambert asks, "it's beer night," he says, as if beer should preclude Jaskier taking pictures.

"Yes, and? Your point?" He raises the camera to snap a blatant picture of Lambert. Aiden leans over to throw up a pair of bunny ears behind his boyfriend as if they're primary schoolers. Eskel laughs.

"Jaskier's exhibition's coming up, leave off," Geralt growls, reprimanding, and Jaskier grins all the brighter.

"Yes, thank you, darling!"

"Doesn't mean he needs to take pictures of us," Lambert grouches, but Aiden wraps his arm around his neck and pulls him into a gentle headlock.

"Be nice," Aiden admonishes, and Lambert grumbles, but subsides. After enough alcohol, no one really thinks about Jaskier's pictures.

* * * *

Catching Jaskier around their apartment snapping photos isn't strictly unusual. It's not even strictly unusual for Jaskier to be snapping photos of him, but--

"Must you take pictures while I'm trying to meditate?"

"Yeah," Jaskier answers, sunny and quick. Geralt gives a huff. The camera clicks again. "Just pretend I'm not here." Geralt hums an affirmative even though he knows it's an impossible task. He could never forget Jaskier was in a room with him.

* * * *

"Didn't know you were picking me up today," Geralt says, wandering over from his post by the medieval art exhibit to where Jaskier stands near the circulation desk, fiddling with his camera.

"Oh, well, you know," he grins brightly up at him, cheeks a little pink--maybe he's getting sick, "I was in the area and thought we could walk home together. I know you’ve got a little still but I can swing by Starbucks; I'll get you that fruity tea you like."

"Hm."

When he gets off his shift forty-five minutes later, Jaskier's waiting for him out front with the Starbucks already in hand, a radiant smile on his face, and Geralt’s chest clenches just looking at him.

* * * *

"Hey, so I know you're busy--" Jaskier starts over dinner one night, eyes focused down on his pasta, "and I don't know if you wanted to come or not, but the exhibition's next week and I--" he sneaks a glance up at Geralt from under his eyelashes, ducks his head, "--I'd like for you to be there."

Geralt can't help the smile that tugs at his lips, can't help the way affection swells in his chest. "Of course I'll go, Jask." It really is as simple as that.

* * * *

Geralt arrives in the midst of the opening hubbub. He knows Jaskier has to linger around his exhibit for at least the first hour or so and from what he understands it's tucked away somewhere toward the back, so Geralt takes a leisurely path in that general direction, stopping to look at the work Jaskier's classmates have done as he goes.

"Oh, Geralt!" Valdo's grinning as he waves him over and reluctantly he lets himself be lured in. "Good to see you here, my man. Jaskier's been a basketcase all day," he winks. Geralt rolls his eyes.

"I'm sure. Your work's good," he says, nodding back towards the row of photos behind them, all different instruments either alone or being played, the close up of hands on strings and keys.

"Don't let Jask hear you say that," he laughs, even as he preens at the praise. "And don't let him catch you over here, either. He'll be accusing infidelity in a heartbeat." Valdo winks again. Geralt doesn't even go to the effort of correcting the fact they're not together. Valdo never seems to remember anyway.

"Yeah. Have a good night, Valdo," he says before ducking out of the way of a shorter blonde woman who throws herself past him and into Valdo's arms, proclaiming her love for him and his photography. Another blonde follows behind her friend, smiling. Geralt hurries away before Priscilla and Essi can realize who Valdo had been talking to and rope him back into the conversation.

It's not that he dislikes Jaskier's friends it's just...they seem to assume things about the two of them. Yes, Geralt loves Jaskier, but Jaskier…he doesn’t know what Jaskier feels for him beyond a deep friendship.

He wanders a bit while he tries not to think about that, stopping to look at some of the other photos--landscapes, pets, significant others, children--until he spots Jaskier, all done up in the suit he'd picked out for the occasion months ago, the gold tie that Geralt had done for him this morning a beautiful contrast to the baby blue of his suit. And the pictures--

Geralt's breath catches. They're all of him; a photo of Geralt and Ciri from the zoo, Ciri seated on his shoulders, one tiny fist in his hair as she gestures wildly at the monkeys. Geralt astride Roach as he puts her through her paces at the barn, and later, Roach out in the pasture, Geralt leading her in a gentle cool down, the both of them in profile. Geralt and his brothers over beers, Geralt grinning, Eskel telling a story, hands spread wide, Lambert and Aiden leaning on each other across the table, smiles indulgent. Geralt meditating in their living room, the ghost of a smile on his face. Geralt at the museum, explaining the history of medieval art to a gaggle of tourists.

They're all him.

"Oh, thank fuck, Geralt, I--" Jaskier breaks off as he gets closer, takes in Geralt's expression, "Geralt?"

His mouth is dry and he has to clear his throat twice before he can get any words to work. "They're all of...me?" Jaskier flushes immediately.

"Well I mean--yes? I wanted it to be something important and personal and, uh, what's more personal than everything my best friend loves?" he explains rapidly, as if he's worried Geralt will cut him off, not let him explain.

"Oh," he says, because it's the only thing he can get out. And then as it dawns on him, "wait, if this is about--" he has to clear his throat again, uncharacteristically embarrassed, "--about what I love...why aren't you in any of them?"

"What, I--" Jaskier chokes off, that flush going a little darker, "I, I didn't--we weren't allowed to be the subjects of our own photos," he lies, and Geralt just raises a brow. He's seen his classmate's work--he knows it's a bullshit answer and Jaskier knows he knows.

"I didn't want to presume," he mumbles, then, a little firmer, "and it would have had to been staged. "I don't--staged photos are terrible, Geralt, you know how I feel about that." He does, but it doesn't change the fact Jaskier's collection is incomplete without him.

"Hm."

* * * *

He thinks about it for the rest of the exhibition and once he starts, it's like he can't stop. Jaskier has a collection of photos of things Geralt loves, and Jaskier's not in any of them.

It takes him almost a week to set it right.

"Geralt," Jaskier calls as the front door clicks open, Jaskier home from class. "Geralt darling, I'm famished, what--" he cuts off abruptly when he steps into the living room, gaze catching on the camera set on the tripod set up on the coffee table. Geralt stands in front of the lens, between the camera and the large bay window overlooking the distant park.

"Jaskier." Geralt's a little bit of a nervous wreck about it, but it's fine. Probably. After all, Jaskier spent months taking photos of Geralt and the things he loved. What's one more?

"Geralt, what--"

"Come here." Jaskier swallows roughly, adams apple bobbing, before he puts his bag down and steps up beside him. "Check the camera," Geralt says softly, "make sure I did it right."

Jaskier does, quick. "It's set on the ten second timer. Should I--?"

"Yeah," he says, stomach clenching in some horrible mix of fear and anticipation, "and come here."

"Geralt, if you'd wanted to take a picture together, I could have--" he says, setting the camera and starting over. He cuts off abruptly when Geralt loops an arm around his waist and tugs him in close until they're chest to chest, his other hand at Jaskier's jaw, thumb sweeping back and forth across his cheek.

"I know," he says, voice pitched low, "but you're missing a picture." And then he dips his head and kisses him.

Jaskier makes a small, wounded noise and then his arms are around Geralt's neck, fingers tight in his hair as he presses up into Geralt's grip, surges against him. Geralt cups his jaw and nips at his lower lip, revels in the quiet gasp that leaves Jaskier open for him to lick into his mouth, deepen the kiss. Distantly he's aware of the camera going off, but it's inconsequential to the way Jaskier feels in his arms.

The kiss only breaks when Jaskier pulls away to hide his face in Geralt's throat, gasping for air. Geralt chuckles, a little breathless.

"Now I'm not complaining," Jaskier says, sounding a little dazed, "but what did I do to deserve that? Because I'd like to keep doing it. Repeatedly, if possible." Geralt laughs.

"You were missing a picture," Geralt says again, and the look on Jaskier's face when he pulls back is so confused it makes his chest constrict. "The things I love," Geralt reminds, and Jaskier flushes bright red.

"Geralt--" he stammers out, flustered, before he returns to hiding his face in Geralt's shoulder. "Melitele help me," He presses his lips to the fabric of Geralt's shirt, a warm, fleeting pressure, "you really are going to be the death of me."

"Don't see how," he hums, tips his head to rest his cheek against Jaskier's head.

"Thought you wanted a friendly picture and then you just--! You just wrapped your arm around my waist like you've done it a hundred times before and I thought, oh, he's going to pretend to kiss me, for the photo, because of course you would and you, you just--" he makes a tiny, outraged noise. Geralt chuckles again. "Don't laugh at me, Geralt, I almost died."

"Mmhm," he rubs his cheek where it rests, mussing Jaskier's hair. Jaskier just huffs. "How'd the picture come out?"

Reluctantly, Jaskier peels himself away to check the photo, and Geralt can already tell from the face he's making it didn't come out well. "You moved," Jaskier admonishes, eyes glued to the tiny viewer. He fiddles with a few settings before putting it back down on the tripod. "Alright," he presses his way back into Geralt's arms, "we'll just have to try again."

"Yeah," Geralt grins, and he kisses him again.

[spencers-dria]

Lost at Sea

Single Dad Spencer x fem reader

Summary: This is kind of a little Christmas-adjacent fluff peice where Spencer is a single dad, completely clueless while Christmas shopping for his daughter. Reader sees him struggling and decides to help, completely unaware of where it will lead them. I imagined him sometime after the show ended, kinda with his somewhat longer curly hair and glasses. This story is completely fluff and I make no apologies.

Well, that was about the third loud huff from the man standing down the isle from me. This one was so loud it blew his hair around a bit, making it even messier. I try to focus on the task at hand, finding the perfect gift for my best friend’s little girl.

Diana was the closest thing I had to a daughter of my own. Despite Anne’s protesting, I took every opportunity to spoil her daughter rotten. The adorable and precocious little girl had me absolutely wrapped around her finger. I have to fight the urge to buy everything I thought would put a smile on her face, my favorite sight in the world.

But now, I was repeatedly distracted by the clearly frustrated man standing next to me, eyeing the girls toy section like it was an enigma. I decide to approach him, but he’s still to lost in his thoughts to notice.

I clear my throat while giving him a light tap on the shoulder.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh I didn’t realized you worked here.”

“I don’t.” I smile sweetly at him. “You just look like you’re trying to solve the worlds most challenging puzzle over here.”

He meets my eyes with a sheepish smile, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. I try my best to ignore just how attractive this man is. He’s definitely not available.

“I guess in a way I am. I’m trying to buy a Christmas gift for my daughter. It’s safe to say that I know absolutely nothing about girls. I want it to be absolutely perfect, and I just know whatever I get won’t be half of what she deserves.”

“Well I can help with that. How old is she and what does she like?”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, giving me a moment to ogle just how attractive his hands are.

“Her name is Alice, she’s 5. I know she loves Disney princesses. Ariel is her favorite I think... but even once I narrow it down to that, there is still just so much. Who knew shopping for little girls could be so overwhelming.”

I can’t help but giggle a bit at his helplessness. He starts to laugh along with me.

“I’m Spencer by the way.” I see him hesitate a moment before slowly extending a hand. I look at his extended hand with a slight feeling of guilt, knowing he’ll most likely judge me based on my response.

“Oh I’m sorry I hope you don’t think I’m rude but... I don’t really shake hands. It’s not personal it’s just all the germs. I don’t deal so well with them.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but I can’t imagine why. Is he actually laughing at me? Seems a bit rude.

“You know I used to be the exact same way. I suppose having a kid has changed me more than I realize sometimes.”

I nod, quietly, knowing I can’t really relate.

“I’m sorry you’re probably really busy. Are you shopping for your daughter too?”

Unsure as to the reason why, I’m suddenly embarrassed to admit that I’m not actually a parent. Just a single loner in their mid-thirties, living vicariously through their best friend and their.

“Oh no, just a friend. I’m more than happy to help you out with Alice. If you want my best ideas though, I’ve got to be honest, a lot of it is online. I can show you the links real quick, I’d you’d like?”

“I feel like this would be easier if we just... Would you like to grab coffee? I know a great place just around the corner. You can show me all your ideas and hopefully we can pick out something for her together.”

Up until this point I didn’t want to make assumptions, but it’s becoming more clear that Spencer is most likely a single dad. I don’t want pry, but I can’t help but wonder what happened to her mom.

I try to hide my excitement at his offer.

“You had me at coffee. And I almost forgot, I’m Y/N!”

————————————————

Three hours and several cups of coffee later, I knew a small part of the life story belonging to Spencer Reid. He was an FBI agent, part of a team who hunts down serial killers. A profiler. Or former profiler? He used to work in the field, until he had to raise his daughter alone. He had been fallen hard and fast for someone who left him as soon as another opportunity, or person rather, had presented themselves. They left him a single dad, all alone with his 2 year old daughter, Alice.

Being a single parent, he knew he couldn’t continue a job that put him in harms way on a regular basis. He never had a problem putting his life on the line for others, but Alice had become his number one priority, without question. Switching to a desk job had allowed him to continue as a consult for the team while also teaching at the University.

As I looked over his attire, I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t quite give off professor vibes at first glance. His cozy maroon sweater and glasses, perhaps. But his curly mop of disheveled hair and goofy grin made him look more like a cuddly muppet character. The more I listen to him talk the more I notice his intelligence. I should have known, given his professions. It didn’t take long to realize he was well out of my league, but he was kind enough to give me the time of day for whatever reason.

I keep drowining in his eyes or getting pulled in by the movement of his hands as he speaks. Listening to his voice is like gently floating down like a river. I don’t even notice when he’s stopped talking.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?” I pull myself out of my daze, trying not to look as enchanted by him as I feel.

“Oh uhh, nothing to tell really.” I shrug, picking up my coffe, hoping he’ll change the subject while I sip on my caramel latte.

“I find that hard to believe. What do you do?”

“I just run a small cafe in town.”

I feel as though hearing about my life is about as interesting as watching water boil, but Spencer could have fooled me. He looks genuinely invested as I tell him about how I earned my bachelors and masters in business management, eventually opening up The Cottage. I didn’t have any experience in the food industry, but my friend Nicole had immediately been on board with the idea of coming on as my cook.

“It sounds wonderful. I’ll definitely have to stop by sometime.” He smiles at me before sipping on the last of his second cup of coffee.

“You’re welcome to bring Alice, only if you want to. And Nicole makes a killer risotto!”

“Of course! ...Oh! I knew we were forgetting something. Alice!”

“The entire reason you asked me here, just a minor detail.” I can’t help but snicker at our absent mindedness, how easy it was to be completely swept away in the tide that was Spencer Reid.

His face fades a bit, though I’m not sure why. He simply nods, folding his hands in his lap.

“Sorry if this is weird but umm... can I see a picture of her? It’s just, well, it might help me to get a better idea. You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh yeah!”He pulls out his wallet, unfolding a long strand of small photos, most of just his daughter, a few featuring him as well.

She was beautiful, brown eyed girl with soft, brown locks. She clearly had her fathers curly hair and soft, doe eyes. If it wasn’t obvious from the way he spoke about her, the pictures made it incredibly apparent that this girl was his whole world. Pure joy radiated from the photo of the two of them. I look up to to see the exact same look on his face, with a smile so big that his eyes crinkle.

That is the moment I knew he had me. I would follow this man anywhere, this adorable dad I had met on the toy isle only hours ago. The photos made it evident that she was just as crazy about him. It was almost too adorable for my heart to handle.

I take a deep breath before meeting his gaze, which is much closer now as we lean in over the table to look at the pictures.

“She’s beautiful.”

He looks down at the photos again with glassy eyes. “I know.”

He clears his throat and scoots back into his seat.

“So what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I have seen this online story that makes really pretty hand-made dresses that mimic the ones of each Disney Princess. Maybe a couple of her favorites? They also make knit blankets that look like mermaid tales. Or maybe a stuffed animal of one of her favorite characters? What little kid doesn’t like stuffed animals, right?”

Spencer nods along, absorbing all the suggestions I throw his way. After awhile, I help him settle on ordering a few we both like.

“I can’t wait to give these to her! She always loves Christmas morning. We open presents together and eat the cookies we made the night before while binging as many Christmas movies as possible.”

There was that smile again, the one he got when he talked about her. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is to have a dad that cares so much.

I can’t help but smile as well at the thought, which he quickly interrupted with “So what are your Christmas plans?”

I feel myself turning slightly red at the embarrassment of having to admit that I have none. Nothing much that is.

I shrug, hoping he won’t ask any more about it.

“Do you get to see your family?”

And there it was. The question I was desperately hoping to avoid. I know my inability to meet his gaze and consistent pulling at my fingers would be a dead give away of my uncertainty about speaking on the subject. I search for the best way to answer without seeming like I’m overcome with self pity. To be fair, I wasn’t. I didn’t mind spending the holidays alone. Not anymore. I had grown comfortable with the silence and comfort that comes from living alone.

The soft crackling of the fire, a fuzzy blanket, and a warm cup of hot chocolate had become my closest companions of each winter season. I spent many evenings curled up by the window, watching the snow dust the city as soft music flowed through my drafty, top floor apartment. Sometimes I’d dance and twirl around in my pajamas and socks, slipping and sliding on the wood floors. So yes, it was safe to say I truly enjoyed the time I spent getting to know myself.

“I uh, they’re not really around anymore. I was adopted by my parents when I was still a baby. They didn’t have any family but each other and then, well, me. I lost them to a car crash a few years back.”

I can tell he’s listening, but the one thing I always expect to see isn’t there. Pity. Instead I see kindness and understanding, and my heart welcomes it fully.

“Nicole is on vacation with her family for the holidays so it’s just me. I’m pretty used to it though, I make my own fun.” I give him smile to reinforce my point.

His eyes glaze over and I can tell I’ve lost him to a deep thought, as I see the gears turning in his head. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, and finally spouting out: “Come have dinner with us. On Christmas Eve.”

I had half expected a pity invite. A “why don’t you”. A “would you like to”. But Spencer hadn’t asked me. He had told me, in a way that left no room for arguing. I could tell he wasn’t going to budge on the matter. Whether it was the insistent but kind tone or the seriousness in his eyes, I don’t know. But I knew there was no use in fighting it. Not just the invitation, but the feelings quickly flooding my heart. Spencer Reid was like a fast approaching storm, but I didn’t want to outrun the rain. I wanted to dance in it, drenched in the downpour.

And that’s exactly what I did. As soon as I saw the look on his face when I said yes, it crashed over me like a wave, leaving me breathless and lost in the sea of my emotions.

[spenciegoob]

The Fifteenth

A/N: I’m so sorry in advance.

Pairing: Spencer!POV x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst/Fluff

Content Warning: death of a major character, talk of drug abuse, mentions of blood/cases (usual criminal minds terminology), mentions of panic attack/depression

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,163

____

As I sat down with the woman that made me feel whole, I felt the familiar serenity of her presence fill my senses even as the rain around us poured down in sheets. The pressure felt like sharp, cold glass sinking into my skin, but with her in front of me, I couldn’t find myself to care because her warmth held me like it was always meant to do.

“Hi, sweet girl. Do you remember the day you told me I was your world for the first time? I think about it everyday. I wish I could go back and just-”

She laid her head on my bare chest, her hair spreading out to tickle my sides, and her arms tucked securely around my back. Usually, a position so intimate would cause me a great deal of discomfort, but with her it felt natural; peaceful; perfect.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” She asked out of the blue. Even as a whisper, the question startled me. Before, in the moments of serene quiet, her breathing evened out, and I thought she was fast asleep. I was about to allow myself the relief of saying everything I couldn’t find the perfect words for when she was awake, looking at me with those loving eyes I fell in love with.

“I love you, too, Y/n.” But that answer did not satisfy her. She pulled her head from it’s previous position to look at me directly, and while I love to look at those eyes, the tears that welled there were gut twisting: soul crushing; heart wrenching.

“I mean it, Spence. You are my whole world.” A tear escaped when the words left her mouth, the ones that caused my own eyes to water, threatening to join hers.

I brushed my thumb across her cheek, catching the fallen drop before it finalized on my chest.

“And you are mine, sweet girl.”

“But what I meant to say was you’re not mine. Y/N, you are bigger than my world. You are the sun, the one that I rotate, the light that I need to survive, the power source that keeps me habitable.”

I had to clear my throat before continuing. 

“The first day I met you, you unknowingly saved my life, and to this day, I regret not telling you until now. It was the day I quit. I didn’t understand it then, how my mind changed so suddenly, but now I do. It was that smile, it was always that smile-”

I need a fix. Just one. It was one of the worst cases I’ve ever worked. I deserved a fix. I would say it was out of my control once I set that text message, but it was long before that. The second the jet landed my mind had been made, and once that happens, not even me could stop it. 

So I walked out of my apartment into the night that held too many unknowns, pulling myself further into my jacket and keeping my head down. I know that no one knew me to judge, but if I were to look at the very few strangers as they walked past me to live their own equally as destructive lives, I would’ve felt daggers piercing my skin instead of a needle that night.

But then I turned a corner, and from my position with locked eyes on the concrete, I could see a head come into my vision, hit my chest, and fall to the ground.

“Oh my g- I’m so sorry I wasn’t loo-” I had started to explain myself before a giggle interrupted my plan. I allowed my eyes to forget the laser vision on the sidewalk, and meet the eyes of the source.

My god was she beautiful. Her eyes so full, looking up at me from the hard ground with something that could only be described as pure, unadulterated joy. 

“It’s quite alright, I wanted to be on the ground tonight, anyway.” I titled my head, peculiar with the beautiful strange woman on the ground, but when she let out another giggle at my confusion, I couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle.

And then she held her hand up, silently asking for help from the position I so rudely shoved her into. While I would usually politely decline hand-to-hand contact, it didn’t feel right to refuse to help her stand after I all but tackled her.

So I took her hand, and the warmth generating from her in the cool night was like a breath of fresh air after drowning for so long.

When she regained her balance in front of me, she asked the question I least expected her to.

“I was just on my way to get coffee. Would you like to join me?”

“Wha.. I um- I’m a stranger on the street that just pushed you to the ground, and you’re asking if I want to get coffee?” When she nodded, I asked her another question, hoping to be able to teach her a lesson in stranger danger she so obviously lacked.

“How do you know I’m not a murderer?”

“With kind eyes like yours? I find that highly unlikely.”

“How could I say no to you? Y/N, you were my guardian angel that night. I didn’t look back when you linked your arm with mine, and led me to your favorite coffee shop. I still go there, you know? I don’t even have to order anymore, they just silently start making my coffee when I make my presence known-”

“Can I have an iced french vanilla with 3 pumps of liquid sugar?” She asked the barista Sam who had already started punching in her order before Y/N started speaking.

“What the hell did you just order?” I couldn’t stop the question from leaving my lips. Whatever concoction the barista was making was quite possibly the weirdest coffee order I’ve ever heard.

“Hey, Sam, can you make it two?” She ordered another instead of answering my question. “Trust me, stranger on the street. It’ll change your life.”

“Oh, um, my name’s Spencer by the way.”

“Well, stranger on the street named Spencer, I’m Y/N, and it looks like our coffee’s ready,” she said to me with the most beautiful smile. That smile can cause grown men to drop to their knees. Quite frankly, I almost did. She was the most peculiar and intriguing woman I had ever met.

She grabbed the two cold drinks and sat on one of the many different couches around the tiny shop. I just watched, my eyes following her lead without my control as she put me in a trance her presence induced.

“You coming?”

“Oh, uh, yeah sorry.” She only giggled as I quickly shuffled my way to her. We were the only people in the cafe, not surprisingly so as it was 10:42 pm on January 15th, a Tuesday night.

“You, Spencer, are infatuating.”

“Me? Why me?”

“It has to be something in those eyes.” We stared deeply at each other for what felt like an eternity, even if it was merely a second too long. She was the one to pull away as if she was done studying whatever she found. 

With a deep inhale, she shook her head and handed me my beverage.

“Allow me to change your life?” She asked like I wouldn’t let her if she continued to beam at me the way she did.

But instead of freaking her out and saying that, I took the coffee from her hand, and hesitantly took a sip.

It was so sickeningly sweet, like drinking melted candy with the amount of sugar to send someone into sugar shock. It was perfect.

She was perfect.

“When I first started showing up to work with a large iced coffee that was basically cream with a dash of coffee bean, I got weird looks. Derek even made a couple comments, but I didn’t care. It was a part of you you decided to share with a stranger that night. Eventually I told them the story, and now when I walk into the bullpen with the same coffee like clockwork, they give me solemn looks, but no comments.”

“The day you met them was one of the best days of my life, even if it was by accident-”

“Reid and Morgan, I want you two to go down to the dump site. The woman who found the body is there, I want you to interview her.” Hotch’s voice boomed. It was a local case, and while no case is the end goal, the locality was enough.

I got to go home to lay in her arms.

Derek and I drove to the site, bouncing off theories to each other to fill the time. When we got there, news vans had already taken up most of the space, and a sea of reported crowded behind the barricade. 

We shuffled our way through, avoiding eye contact and the “dire” questions from the press. When we made it to the front and flashed our badges, one of the officers led us to the body.

A prostitute in an alley. Easy profile, not so easy scene. There was major overkill, the blood from the body deep in the hallway trailed all the way to the sidewalk. It was only 7 am, my theory being a morning jogger found the trail and followed it to the horror show.

“Do we know where the person who found the body is?” I asked the officer who was next to me.

“We tried to ask her questions, but she got too worked up and couldn’t breathe. She’s on the back of the ambulance now I believe.” A panic attack.

It wasn’t uncommon for an unready participate in a criminal investigation to have a panic attack. Not everybody was made to see such things.

Derek and I made our way over to the ambulance when we started to hear a very heated argument.

“I AM FINE! There’s no reason for thi-”

“Y/N?” There she was, sitting in the ambulance, fighting with the EMT who was just trying to do his job. I don’t know who I felt bad for more in this situation. She knew how to win an argument, trust me.

“Oh Spence, thank god.” She quickly got up to crash her body into mine. I don’t think there was a speed that would be sufficient when it came to how quickly I squeezed her back. “It was so scary.”

Her body started to shake with tears she was probably holding in. She didn’t like to cry in front of me for the longest time, let alone hundreds of cops, reporters and pedestrians. 

“I know, sweet girl. I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m so sorry.” I ran my fingers through her hair. It aways calmed her down.

And it seemed to partially work, because she pulled her head from my chest to look up at me with wet cheeks and terrified eyes.

“I just... I was runni... She’s d-”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s over now, okay?” Slowly she nodded, her eyes trailing down to her feet. That was until Derek spoke up. In the midst of my concern, I had completely forgotten he was there.

“Uh... what?”

“Oh Derek, this is Y/N. My uh, my girlfriend. Y/N this is Derek.” She looked up to find my baffled coworker looking between me and her and smiled. Hey, his stupidity got her to smile!

“So you’re the lady’s man he tells me about?” Shit.

“Hey now wait a minu-”

“Maybe we should go back to Quantico. You’ll be safe, and we can ask you questions when you’re ready, yeah?” I had to deflect quick, but Derek would rip me a new one for this.

We all piled into the SUV. I got in the back knowing that she gets car sick back there ever since she was a little girl.

“So, you and Spencer, huh?” Maybe that was a mistake.

“They loved you so much. I loved you so much. I still love you so much. I miss you every day of my life, but it doesn’t hurt to think about you anymore. Life gave us all the time it could spare, and I am so grateful I literally ran into you that Tuesday night 8 years ago. Sometimes I hate my mind, my eidetic memory is a curse on it’s own, but when it comes to you? The memories we shared I will never forget are the ones that keep me fighting. You still keep me going, sweet girl. You always will.”

With that, I got up and placed the sunflowers on top of her headstone, brushing off the dirt and leaves that accumulated during the fall season.

The rain stopped pouring then, and the sun shone down on me. On us.

My sun.

____

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[therealvalkyrie]

What Could’ve Been Without the War

Pairing/setting: Jean Kirschtein x Female!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls, set after the War; canon divergent w/ modern tech

Summary: You and Jean embark on your weekly trip to the grocery store.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: equal parts angst and fluff, idiots to idiots, mutual pining, unsatisfying ending (i’m so sorry)

AN: Surprise Jean! I hope you are all having a wonderful Friday evening and that I don’t ruin it too much with angst. This piece started out as a super fluffy drabble involving grocery store shenanigans and kinda....uh....got away from me. Ahem. It was also originally intended as a 157 follower cool prime number thank you! I think we’re up to 180-something now, but we can still count it. Big thanks yet again to the love of my life @ghostlightprincess for her edits and encouragements:) Please come let me know what you think in my DMs/askbox/comments!!  ~valkyrie

Jean opens on the third knock on his apartment door, already shrugging on a jacket. He greets you with a short “hi” and receives the kiss you plant on his cheek out of habit.

“You ready?” You’re practically bouncing on the balls of your feet, car keys jingling off of the magenta key ring looped around your finger. It’s cute, and he finds himself matching your enthusiasm with a grin of his own.

“Almost,” he replies, reaching back to his coat rack to grab a scarf. “Honestly, I still don’t understand why you’re always so excited for the grocery store.”

He looks back to catch you rolling your eyes. “I don’t understand why you’re not. A grocery store is a magical place, with all of the cheesecake and ice cream you could ever wish for!”

He chuckles and joins you in the hallway, leaning down to lock his door behind him. “Need I remind you that you’re lactose intolerant?”

“That’s what Lactaid is for, stupid. Come on!” He lets you pull him down the hall, your small gloved hand in his big one. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Croft!” you greet his elderly neighbor as you pass her open door, sticking your head in with a wide smile. “You need anything from the store? Jean and I are just on our way.”

Jean stands beside you awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with his shrewd neighbor. You haven’t let go of his hand and he can feel a blush working its way up his neck. 

“No, that’s alright, honey, I just went this morning.”

“Okay! Well, let us know if you think of anything!”

“Thank you, dear.”

“Have a good afternoon, ma’am,” Jean chips in as you wave. 

“You kids have fun.”

The next second, you’re pulling him away again and he misses the way Mrs. Croft chuckles knowingly and looks back to her knitting. 

—

“What’s next on the list?” Your voice drifts down the aisle back to him, and Jean pauses in pushing the cart to shuffle the papers in his hands. 

“Umm… AP flour, vanilla extract,” shuffle, shuffle, “brown sugar, olive oil, yeast.”

You hum in acknowledgment and he watches as you flit from shelf to shelf, gathering items in your arms. He pushes the cart up to join you.

You dump everything in haphazardly, and he sighs, leaning down to straighten it all out into categories.

“What’s next?” You’re already halfway down the rest of the aisle again, gazing up longingly at the Oreos on the top shelf.

God, she’s cute.

He joins you, reaches up to pluck a pack of Double Stuf off of the shelf, and wordlessly places it in your section of the cart, suppressing a smile of his own as you grin up at him.

“You sure know how to treat a girl right, Jean-bo.” You reach up to ruffle his mullet. 

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbles, ducking away and flushing red like a smitten schoolboy. “Next is the frozen aisle.”

—

“Was it the lasagna that she liked last time? Or the shepherd’s pie?”

“The lasagna.” He accepts three frozen dinners as you pass them over from where you’re leaning past the glass freezer door.

“Hey,” he looks up sharply at your soft call to see you staring down the aisle like you’ve seen a ghost, hand still holding the glass door open. He follows your gaze and sees him just as you say, “It’s Erwin.”

It’s not, but Jean’s heart twists all the same at the resemblance the stranger carries. Same neatly parted blonde hair, broad shoulders. But he’s shorter, still has both arms. And he’s alive. 

“It’s not, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reaching to wrap an arm around your shoulders.

“It is, look he—” you insist until the man turns and instead of the Commander’s piercing blue gaze you’re met with brown eyes that flick between you and Jean in confusion. “Oh.” Your face falls and you allow the door to close, turning into Jean’s side.

“You alright?” He tilts his head to catch your expression. It’s pure pain, mouth twitching into a frown and eyes unfocused. Your hand comes up to grip the bottom of his jacket, and after a second he can see you physically force your face back to neutral. 

“Fine,” you nod. He knows you’re faking, that it’s a survival tactic, so he lets it go for now, only steps back to let you in between his body and the cart. 

“Up you go,” he prompts you to step up, feet on the bottom shelf and hands clutching the bar. He starts to push as you ride, walking first then running down the aisle until you finally throw your head back and laugh genuinely. 

He misses the exasperated look an employee gives him as the pair of you whizz past, too preoccupied with your smile.

—

“What do you need three dozen eggs for, anyway?” you ask incredulously, nevertheless opening each carton to inspect before handing them over. 

“They’re a good source of protein,” he defends. “Plus, you always end up running out and coming to me to complain. Ran me dry last time.”

Another playful eye roll. “It’s only ‘cause I messed up my brownies! And I needed them to entice the landlord to finally fix my heater.”

“Your heater’s been broken?”

“Well, it’s not anymore. Espresso brownies work wonders, I’ll have you know.”

You’re trying to brush it off as you normally do when he worries, but the thought of you shivering and blue-lipped keeps him pushing. “How long did you not have heat for? It’s February!”

“Not the point, Jean-bo!” You poke at his cheek and twirl away towards the cheese. 

“It definitely is the point. Come to me next time and I’ll fix it.”

“And lose my deposit?” You scoff, reaching for mozzarella. “Fat chance.”

“Freeze, then.”

You grin back at him. “Why d’you think I came over so much last weekend?”

“Is that all I am to you? A hot water bottle in your time of need?” He feigns hurt, but some pride swells in his chest that he kept you warm, after all. 

“And a cute one, at that. Think fast!”

His hand flashes up to catch the mozzarella you toss deftly. 

“You wound me.”

“Eh, builds character. What’s next?”

Shuffle, shuffle. “Wine and flowers.”

—

Jean watches as you bounce in the driver’s seat, hands almost dainty on the wheel, leaning forward to stare resolutely out the windshield at the darkening road. You’re singing along to some song he doesn’t know that’s playing from the stereo.

It’s so familiar, this Saturday evening ritual with you, and it wraps Jean up like the softest blanket. He knows why you’re always so excited about grocery shopping, and it’s not the cheesecake — it’s the way this routine has centered itself in both your lives. He feels it too, the semblance of normalcy, of domesticity, that you’ve cobbled together with him in between hard weeks and harder nights.

You navigate the bends and odd intersections of his old suburban neighborhood with ease, having driven to his house maybe thousands of times since you were teens. The elementary school passes, then the vet clinic, until finally, your old black sedan pulls into his mom’s driveway alongside her silver minivan.

You shift to neutral and yank on the parking brake habitually, then turn off the car and settle back into your seat.

You’re both quiet for a moment: you staring out the window lost in thought, Jean checking the time on his phone.

“Jean?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever regret enlisting so young?” This catches his attention, turning sharply to look at your contemplative profile.

“Never. It was the right thing to do.” He’s resolute in this conviction, always. The War had seemed to be at its worst when you’d joined up, driven by the promise of Wall Maria’s reclamation and impassioned by your comrades’ fury. It had been the only choice, in his view.

“I do, sometimes,” you admit quietly, eyes downcast to where your fingers twist in your lap. “Maybe then my head wouldn’t be so messed up,” you laugh dryly and tap your temple, then shoot him a sideways glance. “And maybe—” you cut yourself off.

“Maybe what?”

“Never mind.” You’re out of the car so fast Jean almost questions if you moved at all. It reminds him of your natural grace on the ODM gear, how you’d whoop and holler as you hurtled past him among the trees during training. He wonders for a moment when your agility turned from a source of joy to an escape mechanism, then stops himself. He knows exactly when that happened.

—

The grocery store tulips thankfully survived their ordeal in the trunk of your car, bright against Ma Kirschtein’s tile kitchen backsplash as you arrange them in her favorite vase. After a minute of fussing, you take a step back, give a nod of satisfaction, and scoop up the trimmed stems off the counter. The rest of the groceries are already put away, organized so she can reach them without trouble.

It’s as you’re stepping on the trash can pedal to open its lid that the voices from the living room catch your ear. You pause, smiling as mother and son converse.

“Have you been eating enough, Jean-bo? You look so skinny….”

“Ma, I—”

“What am I saying, of course you haven’t. You’d waste away to nothing if you were left to your own devices. I’m so glad that darling girl is there to look after you.”

“Ma, she’s not my keeper—”

“When are you two getting married, again? I could’ve sworn I wrote it down in my book, but I looked the other day and couldn’t find the date anywhere.” She sounds serious. Confused, even, not a hint of teasing in her tone. Must be an off day. A symptom of her early-onset dementia.

“Ma, we’re not even together.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been together since high school.” She’s so convinced, so sure, and you squeeze your eyes tight against the reality that you and Jean have only ever been friends. In the adolescent insecurity of high school, in the intensity of military training, in the fucking heat of battle, all you’ve ever shared is friendship.

“Ma, I don’t think… I don’t even think she—” He pauses and your ears strain in the silence to catch his last quiet phrase. “She doesn’t think of me that way.”

You just know, you can tell, he only says it like that to ease her confusion. It’s the opposite, really, he doesn’t think of you that way. Before you can hear more sideways rejection, you toss the flower stems and make a beeline for the bathroom.

—

“What was that movie you were telling me to watch, again?” You ask around a mouthful of spaghetti with sauce fresh from the jar, covering your mouth with one hand.

The pair of you are eating shoulder-to-shoulder on the floor of your apartment two floors above Jean’s. It’s got the decidedly better view out your picture window, complete with the perfect Eastern perspective of the river that cuts through Trost and its famous bridges. It’s this, the third leg of your traditional Saturday evenings together, that makes you feel the most warm.

Jean has the manners to chew and swallow before replying. “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood? Connie, Sasha, and I went to see it when they visited last month—”

Your snicker cuts him off and he raises his eyebrows as you roll your eyes and take a sip of wine. “The feet movie? Sasha said it was pretentious.”

“Really? I thought she was too preoccupied with the fact that the theater sold chili fries to pay attention.” He teases back, twirling more pasta onto his fork.

“I’m telling her you said that,” you warn with a jab of your own fork in his direction.

“Snitch.”

“Hey!”

He ducks to avoid your swat to the back of his head, grinning at your pout. “No, but seriously, apart from the feet it’s a good movie.”

“Hmm. I’ll consider putting it on the roster for next week.”

You take a moment to relish the comfortable silence, looking out at the city lights as you chew thoughtfully. His thigh is heavy and warm against yours under the thick knitted blanket his mom gave you last Yule. Your belly is warm and full, your shoulders relaxed in the company of your closest friend, your lungs breathing easily.

Jean says your name quietly and you turn to see him staring pensively down at the plate in his lap. “About what you asked earlier… in the car?”

You nod, eyes wide and mouth serious.

“Sometimes… I do regret it.” He grits the words out through his teeth, like it’s difficult to force the truth into the world. “Not because I regret what we did in the War. But because sometimes I wonder,” his eyes cut to yours for a split second, “I wonder what could’ve been. Without the War.”

You don’t say anything, don’t say you understand, because you know he knows. Instead, you loop your arm into his and lean your head against his shoulder. It takes a moment, a release of breath and the fall of his chest, but eventually he closes his eyes, turns his face into your hair, and allows himself to sink into the what could’ve been. Just for now.

[jawabear]

Online Match (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: this was suggested but the lovely @bensolobutterflies who suggested about Marcus falling for Missy’s teacher. And this is such a Marcus trope so I had to do it! I hope this is acceptable. I got a little political about teacher somewhere in the middle but hopefully it’s not too bad. The messaging parts might be laid out a little weirdly. I didn’t really know how else to lay it out but I tired to make it decent? Again, I used Spanish but I don’t speak it so it may be wrong. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, Marcus being a soft boy, Missy and Anita being match makers, nerves, just whole lotta fluff

Summary: When Missy signs him up for online dating, Marcus wonders whether the girl he really likes will be on there too...

The first time he had met her, it was her first week. She had hosted a parents meeting, not just do discuss the wellbeing of the children she taught but to introduce herself to the parents.

Now Marcus wasn’t one who believed his love at first sight. He had always said that you don’t fall in love with someone before you even know them. But when he first saw (Y/N), he fell deeper than he ever had before.

Perhaps it was just his want to be with some that was lurking deep deep inside him that caused him to fall for her so quickly. Or maybe it was because she just seemed so...perfect. Everything about her was just perfect. Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her smile, the way she spoke, the way she dressed. All of it was just perfect. And he liked her. A lot.

But he thought it would be complicated. Dating his daughters teacher was sure to come with complications. No doubt there was a rule against it somewhere. Most likely he would come out okay, but he didn’t want to risk her possibly loosing her job. Not that he would ever admit his feelings for her. He wasn’t brave enough to jump back into the dating pool. Although both Missy and his mother had been hounding him about it for months now.

They had both noticed how lonely he seemed. Of course he would always say that he didn’t need anyone so long as he had them, but they both knew he needed someone. He needed to start dating again. Missy was making that very clear to him.

“So Dad, I was thinking that we sign you up for online dating” she said nonchalantly as she munched on her dinner. Marcus nearly chocked on his coffee at her words.

“Missy” he said, wiping his mouth to ensure no coffee had spilled “have you and Abuela been discussing this again?”

“We’re just trying to make sure your happy, Dad. You deserve someone to love and someone who loves you back”

“I have you, honey” he smiled “I love you”

“I love you too. But seriously. You deserve someone. You’ve had to be both dad and mum. It would be good to split it” Marcus didn’t respond to this, so Missy carried on “so, we signed you up for online dating”

“You what?” He almost yelled.

“We signed you up for online dating” she repeated. “Here” she grabbed his phone from his hand and went about downloading the dating app do his phone. He watched in interest as she signed him in. “See”

“Why would you do that?”

“Maybe this will be a bit easier for you to get back into dating instead of doing it the old fashioned way of actually going out and talking to people. I mean, get with the times dad”

“The last time I dated someone, going out and talking to people were the times” he chuckled as he took his phone back. “It’s getting late Missy” he said looking at the time on his phone “hurry and finish your food” he told her. He stood and took his now empty coffee mug over to the sink and washed it out before placing it on the side.

It wasn’t long before she had finished and brought her plate over to the sink, he could clean it tomorrow. “Up to bed” he told her whilst rustling her hair. She sighed and dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom.

Marcus headed upstairs a short while later and peaked his head into her room to see she was just getting into her bed “you got everything you need?” He asked her. She nodded in response “okay. Night Missy”

“Night Dad” she yawned before rolling over and pulling the covers over her. He pulled her door shut and made his way to his own room, where he stripped off his shirt and jeans and grabbed his pyjamas bottoms and slipped those in before climbing into his bed.

Try as he might, sleep never seemed to come easy to Marcus. He tossed and turned for ages and still sleep didn’t come. Even when it would, it would last long. He was a light sleeper thanks to his job as a Heroic. He was quick to give up on trying to get to sleep and reached for his phone instead. Hoping that somehow that could make his tired.

Marcus lay in bed holding his phone staring at his profile on this dating app that he had been signed up too. He had to admit, they did a good job at making it. It definitely did show his best features, but it wasn’t like people didn’t know who he was. But it showed perhaps a more unknown side of him.

Even so, most of the people who messaged him only really did because he was the Leader of the Heroics. He wasn’t about that. He didn’t want to be with someone just because of his title. As cheesy as it sounds, he wanted someone who would like him for him.

Marcus bit his lip as he thought. He wondered. Wondered if (Y/N) would be on there. It wouldn’t hurt to check right? There’s no harm in just seeing if she was in there. But he hesitated. He thought it was a little weird. But it wasn’t like he would have to message her if she were on there.

He bit the bullet and searched her name. Surprisingly to him, there were actually quite a few on there. He scrolled down and down looking at each profile for her. He wasn’t holding on to much hope that she was on there, but she was. The second to last profile was her. He clicked on it and was put into a trance by her profile picture. It was a sweet picture of her with what he guessed was her dog. He didn’t know she had a dog. Not that that was a problem. He loved dogs.

His thumb hovered over the chat icon on his screen. He debated with himself for a solid minute about whether he should message her. Would it be weird? It was late, she would probably be asleep. But he could say hi. Right?

So he did. He wasn’t exactly sure how he managed to do it. The few seconds it took him to type out his message of ‘Hi (Y/N)’ and send it just seemed to be a moment of black in his memory.

“Shit” he swore audibly. He messed about trying to figure out how to delete the message but he couldn’t. “Shit shit shit” he whispered sharply as he sat up and threw his phone to the foot of his bed in embarrassment.

He buried his head in his hands, filled with instant regret. How would he be able to face her now? Surely she would hate him. Think he was weird. Now he would never have a chance with her.

A soft ding came from his phone to indicate he had a notification. To be honest, at first, he didn’t twig that it could’ve been from her. He just assumed it was from something else. But when he looked at his phone he saw it was a notification from the dating app.

She had replied.

(Y/N): Hi Marcus. This is a surprise

What did that mean? Was she happy he messaged her? Was she just being nice? Was he looking too deep into this? Yes, probably.

Marcus: a good surprise?

(Y/N): Yes. A good surprise :)

Marcus smiled at her message.

Marcus: it’s pretty late. Why are you still up?

(Y/N): I’m lesson planning

Marcus: lesson planning at 10:30?

(Y/N): a usual night for me. Why are you still up?

Marcus: I’m used to not sleeping. My job often required all nighters.

He felt like such a teenager. Staying up late talking to the girl he liked. They spoke all through the night. It was nice. He didn’t feel obliged to say anything particularly to her. They were just talking. Getting to know each other better from what they already did.

Marcus was smiling throughout the whole of their interaction and was wondering if she was doing the same. He wondered if she was as happy to be talking to him as he was talking to her.

She was.

She had completely abandoned her laptop for her phone. The lesson planning being forgotten. He was all she was thinking about. He was all she wanted to think about. Because he had reached out to her, she began to wonder if maybe he liked her back. Surly he must’ve right? Other wise he wouldn’t have messaged her in the first place.

Then she thought that he must’ve looked for her. She thought it was unlikely that she would just happen to pop up on his app. This made her heart flutter and she smiled brighter. Even though it was over messages, she hadn’t had as nice a conversation as that one in a very long time. She wasn’t the most sociable person, which made any one who knew her question as to why she became a teacher. She didn’t really have much of a life outside the classroom (so she matched the classics idea that students had about teachers).

They talked until gone midnight and Marcus decided to call it there for the night. He knew that she probably needed to rest before having to teach the next day. But he didn’t want to stop talking to her. He was really enjoying himself. But he had to be fair to her. Just because he couldn’t sleep, didn’t mean he had to stop her from sleeping too.

Marcus: it’s really late (Y/N). You should go to sleep.

(Y/N): I didn’t realise that was the time!

There was a slight pause before she messaged him again.

(Y/N): I really enjoyed talking to you Marcus. Like...really enjoyed it. It was nice to just talk.

He smiled brightly at this, knowing she felt the same about their conversation as he did made him happy.

Marcus: I’ve enjoyed it too (Y/N). I don’t really get the chance to just talk to people now really

There was another pause. This one was longer than the last and it made him a little anxious.

(Y/N): can we talk again tomorrow?

He had to hold back his cheer. His heart leapt with joy in his chest at her words. It didn’t seem anything extravagant really, but it meant she wanted to talk to him. Maybe she did like him back. It was now that he was kind of thankful that they weren’t talking face to face. He could hide his initial reaction from her.

Marcus: of course. I’d like that

(Y/N): I’d like that too. I better get some sleep. Goodnight Marcus.

Marcus: goodnight (Y/N)

Marcus dropped his phone to his chest and beamed up at the ceiling. He hadn’t felt that happy in a very very long time.

Over the next few week, they continued to talk. They got closer and closer. And they learnt more about each other with every message. And with every message, they feel more for each other. But if they saw each other in person, because of the school setting, they didn’t show that they had been talking.

But Missy was becoming suspicious of Marcus. He was on his phone a lot more often than usual. But any time she tried to ask what he was doing, he would always just say nothing and put his phone down.

And then the fateful day came where he finally asked her out. They had been talking throughout the day but Marcus thought it was time they actually move the growing relationship further. After all, that’s what the site was for.

Marcus: (Y/N). I’ve been thinking...

(Y/N): about what?

Marcus: well...This is a dating site. So would you want to go on a date with me? An actual date?

There was a long pause. A very long pause. Marcus’s heart sank. Maybe she didn’t want to go any further than a friendship. Had he made things awkward now? Had he completely ruined his chance with her?

(Y/N): Absolutely!! I’d love to go on a date with you Marcus! xx

The two kisses at the end made his cheeks burn slightly. He felt relief in his heard and went about making plans with her for their date. They decided on dinner. A classic first date. It wasn’t to anywhere overly fancy, god knows teachers don’t get paid enough to eat in fancy restaurants. They set a day and a time and Marcus couldn’t contain his excitement.

He couldn’t hide it from Missy anymore.

“Okay” she said annoyed, filing her arms as she stood in the kitchen door way as he leant on the counter next to the sink. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird. You’re way happier than normal. Tell me Dad”

Marcus turned to look at his daughter and set his phone down. “You really want to know?” He asked.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed.

“Alright. Fine” he drew in a deep breath and pushed himself up so he was standing up straight “I’ve...met someone”

“What?!” She beamed “you have? This is amazing! Is she nice? Is she pretty? Are you going on a day with her?”

“Yes, yes and yes” he said quietly “Friday. At 6. Will you be okay is Grandma comes and looks after you while I’m out?”

“Only if I get to meet your new girlfriend!”

“I wouldn’t say she’s my girlfriend just yet” Marcus laughed nervously “but she’s coming here first before we go, so yes, you will get to meet her. Just...don’t be...disappointed or weirded out by who it is”

“I won’t be! She must be something to make you keep smiling all the time! This is so awesome! I have to go tell Abuelita!”

“Wait you don’t have to-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence before she had run off upstairs to call her grandma.

Marcus shook his head and looked back at his phone.

Marcus: Missy seemed pretty excited that I’ve got a date

(Y/N): did you tell her who it was? xx

Marcus: no. I wanted it to be a surprise. Do you want me to tell her?

(Y/N): I don’t mind. If you want to wait, it doesn’t bother me. I’m just excited for Friday!! xx

Marcus: I’m excited too. I’m so excited. I know it doesn’t really seem like it. But I’m still it very good at the whole technology thing

(Y/N): oh Marcus! You make yourself out to be so much older than you are! But I can tell you’re excited. Xx

(Y/N): I’ve got to go. But I’ll try and talk to you a little later xx

Marcus: okay x

The days between then and Friday seemed to drag on. The world just wanted to make them wait it seemed. They talked their nights away when they could, in hopes that would speed up the time. And then finally Friday evening rolled around. And Marcus was freaking out.

“You’ll be fine, mijo” Anita told her son in a knowing voice as she held up her hand to try and calm him as he messed with the sleeves of his shirt “when you see your beautiful date all your worries will fade away”

Marcus glanced up at her but then looked back down at his sleeves “Espero que tengas razón Mamá” (I hope you’re right, mama) he muttered.

“por supuesto que tengo razón! He estado mal antes” (of course I’m right! I’ve never been wrong before) Anita said almost proudly making Missy laugh quietly. This is turn cause Marcus to smile. But that smile fell when the doorbell rang.

Marcus’ face paled. Was it 6 already?

“Dad!” Missy called to him, pulling him from his trance. He looked at her and she motioned for him to head for the door. He stood abruptly and walked towards the door. He took in a deep breath before pulling it open to reveal (Y/N). She flashed him a bright smile and he looked her up at down to see she was wearing a long light blue dress. It wasn’t overly fancy but it looked beautiful.

“Hi Marcus” she said quietly.

“Hi...(Y/N)” he said slowly trying to regain his composure (not that he ever had it in the first place). “Y-You look amazing!”

“Thank you. I’m not too over dressed am I?” She asked looked down at the dress she had chosen.

“No, you’re fine. More than fine. Beautiful actually” he said quickly.

She blushed slightly at his compliment and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear “thank you Marcus” she said “you look nice too. Very handsome”

He couldn’t really say anything. He was too flustered. He let out a small noise and stepped to the side “come in. I um..I need to grab my jacket” she nodded and stepped inside his house, awkwardly following him as he walked into the kitchen.

She stumbled backwards a little when she saw Missy and his mother sat there. She had met Anita on a few occasions, she came to pick Missy up from school a few times. They both looked a little in shock to see her stood there whilst Marcus rooted around for his jacket.

“Miss (L/N)?!” Missy exclaimed.

“Hey Missy” (Y/N) said. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so nervous. It was just weird to be seeing her out of the school setting.

“It’s you? You’re the one my Dad is going on a date with?” She asked.

“Um...yes. I am” (Y/N) said. She looked over to Marcus who had managed to locate his jacket, slipping it on. “It’s not...weird...is it?”

“No!” Missy smiled “this is great! This is awesome! I knew it would be you!”

Both (Y/N) and Marcus let out quiet breaths of relief “she’s a beautiful girl Marcus. And I know she has a kind heart” Anita said with a gentle smile. (Y/N) felt Marcus’ hand on her lower back. The small action spread a comforting warmth through her body “now go! Have fun!”

Marcus briefly left (Y/N)’s side to kiss Missy’s head before walking (Y/N) back to the door. They left the house and he walked her to his car “well I think that went well” she said with a nervous laugh.

“It went better than I expected” he said “I thought she would be a little bit weirded out”

“Me too. But I’m glad she wasn’t. And I’m glad your mum took a liking to me too”

“I doubt anyone could not like you (Y/N)” she got in the passenger side of his car whilst he got in the drivers seat. “I, for one, like you. A lot”

“I like you too Marcus. A lot” she leaned over with the intention of kissing his cheek, but he turned at the last second making her lips land on his. That had to have been a scripted event. But neither of them was complaining. They both smiled into the kiss before she pulled back and pulled on her seatbelt.

“Shall we go?” He asked, an ear to ear grin on his face.

“Definitely”

10/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade

[winterscaptain]

anyway we could get a worried!hotch blurb when you’re in the hospital after getting injured? i’m a sucker for anything fluffy with hotch

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

i LOVE worried!hotch. i am always happy to oblige, anon! this is.........not a drabble lmao i got excited. its a little angsty but then its really cute i promise 

i hope you like it!! it’s a common scenario with a widely accepted structure, so i was excited to put my own spin on it :)

words: 1939 warnings: swearing, canon-typical injury, medical setting, a very worried hotch

masterlist | requests closed

+++

You weren’t sure how this case slipped from the team’s control so quickly, but somehow you were alone, on the floor with two black eyes and at least three broken ribs. It was hard to breathe, and something really didn’t feel right. 

The unsub was unconscious beside you, felled by a well-placed kick to the jaw. You crawled to your cell phone. Slowly. Painfully. 

The coughs that shuddered from your lungs were wet and heavy and you could barely see. You turned your phone on and called Penelope, falling unconscious before you could say anything. With any luck, she would be able to find you with just that much. 

+++

Hotch’s knuckles were white where his fingers strangled the steering wheel. His only focus was the coordinates he just received. Ignored was Emily’s death grip on the handle above the door. Ignored was JJ leaning into the front over the center console, getting more tactical information from Derek, who was still at the precinct. Ignored was the ache in his clenched jaw. 

The door to the house nearly fell off its hinges when Hotch kicked it open, the SUV forgotten on the lawn behind him. Emily followed, striding through the house and clearing every room before moving on. 

Hotch made a beeline for the basement, the door carelessly left open. The lack of sound acutely disturbed him, and he pushed away images of Haley’s body, laying silent on the floor of their guest room. 

Silence, he knew, often meant unpleasant surprises. 

JJ’s light footsteps followed behind him as he descended. He saw the unsub right away, stirring at the foot of the stairs. JJ branched off, checking the unsub’s pulse before rolling him over and cuffing him. She called for Emily, but the rushing in Hotch’s ears made it hard to hear anything. 

He knelt beside you, finding a pulse and rattling, labored breathing. There was blood weeping from wounds laced across your side, arm, and thigh. He put pressure on the worst of it, his white button-down a lost cause. stained red to the elbow.

Images of Haley and Kate flashed before his eyes, and blinked them away, violently shaking his head. 

“Call medics! Now!” He lifted your head, supporting it in the crook of his arm as he did his best to cover your wounds with his bare hands.

You coughed, your consciousness returning for a moment, “Aaron.” and there was blood. “Aaron...” 

“You’re okay, honey. It’s okay. I’m here. Medics are on their way, I promise. I love you. You’re okay. I love you.” He wanted that to be what you heard, so you weren’t scared, so you stayed awake. 

So much blood. 

+++

The waiting room was quiet. Hotch sat with his elbows on his knees, blood still spattered on his shirt, staining his hands, streaked across his face. He’d done his best to give the paramedics the space they needed to work, but it was hard to watch as you struggled for breath. 

One of your ribs had punctured a lung, collapsing it. They said surgery would be a couple hours, but there was a good chance you’d make it. “A simple patch,” the nurse said. 

Aaron stared into nothing, his eyes close to crossing as the tiles blurred in front of him. Belatedly, he realized the blur was tears. 

A hand on his shoulder startled him. Dave. 

“It’ll be alright, Aaron.”

He barked a quiet, humorless laugh. His voice was raw when he replied. “How can you know that?” 

“Because I know you.” Dave paused. “And I know there’s more to it than what we all see in the office.”

A bag was dropped at Aaron’s feet, in front of a pair of boots. 

“Hotch, you need to get cleaned up.” Derek’s voice was shockingly gentle. 

Aaron looked up for the first time in what felt like hours. JJ, Spencer, and Emily stood a little off to the side. With a sigh, he heaved himself to his feet and snatched the bag from the floor. 

It was hard for him to wash your blood from his hands and face. It felt like a piece of you, washing down the drain. His hands shook as he washed them over and over, well above his elbows. 

As much as he hated to admit it, the soft grey cotton of his shirt felt much better against his skin than his sticky, stiff dress shirt. He mechanically slipped on a pair of worn jeans and sneakers, thankful he thought to pack them in the extra compartment of his go bag.

One of your sweatshirts was at the bottom of the duffle, probably from the last time you spent an unsanctioned night in his hotel room. 

He held it to his face, your familiar smell overwhelming his senses. When he placed your sweatshirt back into his bag and packed away his soiled clothes, his hands weren’t shaking so much. His breath came easier. 

The air conditioning felt cool against his bare arms when he finally left the bathroom, returning to the huddle in the corner of the waiting room. JJ was doing her best not to pace. She was seated, her leg bouncing and the inside of her cheek firmly planted between her teeth. She looked ready to jump to her feet at any moment, which probably explained – 

Derek, sitting beside her, his arm looped through hers and his legs splayed out before him. 

Dave sat with his head bowed, and Hotch was near-certain he was praying. Emily sat beside him, her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping. Her brows were far too drawn for that, her mouth too tense. She was picking at her nails. Again. 

Spencer, of course, was reading, but he couldn’t sit still. He shifted and shuffled every few minutes. 

+++

“Goddamn it.”

Hotch smacked the vending machine with the heel of his hand. It had already eaten five dollars, and his patience was admittedly running thin. It was the fourth hour of your surgery, and he was feeling the weary weight of constant vigilance.  

“Hey. Hotch.” Emily trotted up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Let me.” 

She gently fed another bill into the machine, and a bag of chips met their match and landed at the bottom. She handed the bag to Aaron and guided him to a nearby bench.  

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you two, or should I take a guess?”

Aaron sighed and pulled a hand down his face. “Do we have to do this right now?”

“It’s as good a time as any. Neither one of us are going anywhere.” 

“Prentiss...” He trailed off, not sure where to start. He looked over at her. “Emily.”

She shuffled closer to him and mirrored his posture, her elbows resting on her knees, fingers loosely laced. “Just start from the beginning.” 

So he did. 

He told her about meeting you in the elevator for the first time. 

He told her about the way you tripped up the stairs just outside the entrance to the office the second time you saw each other, your files scattering on the snow-dusted concrete. 

He told her about the way you made him laugh. 

He told her about your first date a few months later, and how he couldn’t get you out of his head. 

He told her how you were with Jack, how often his son asked to see you and the way you always gave him your full attention.

He told her about your transfer into the unit, the dichotomy between the joy of having you beside him and the fear for your safety in the field. 

He told her that he loved you, in so many words. 

“I feel alive,” he said. “I can’t lose –“ He cut himself off and swallowed thickly. 

“That’s not gonna happen. It’s not. You’ll both go home at the end of this.” She bumped his shoulder playfully. “And I am the authority on near-death experiences, here.” 

Aaron gave her a small smile in spite of himself. 

Emily stood and brushed imaginary crumbs from her pants in an authoritative and decisive fashion. “Now, I’m getting you some coffee. Eat your chips, Hotch. Try to taste them, too.”

She’d only taken three steps, when - 

“Hey, Emily?”

She turned over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

+++

You opened your eyes to the image of Derek sitting next to your bed, peering at you. 

“Jesus Christ, Morgan.” You couldn’t help but jump a little, and your ribs twinged. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

He grinned at you. “So. You and Hotch?”

You rolled your eyes, and even that hurt. “Seriously? How long have you been sitting there waiting to ask me that?”

“Three and a half hours.” 

You opened your mouth to retort, but Aaron stepped in before you could draw breath. You watched him as he crossed the room with purpose and set his coffee down. 

Ignoring Derek entirely, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips, then your forehead. He took your hands in his and pressed kisses to those, too. 

“Feeling better?” He asked. The transformation of the man who walked through the door and the man that held your hands was stark. His eyes were softer, brighter, his shoulders lower. 

You nodded, smiling fondly at him. “Much better, now.”

A noisy sigh erupted behind you. “Guys...c’mon.”

You looked back over at Derek with a smile, the shadow of Aaron looming over your shoulder.

+++

At the end of it, you were fine. Your lung was repaired (for the most part), your wounds mended. The hardest part was taking time off, and the physical therapy. 

Physical therapy sucked. 

Most afternoons found you spending time with Jack at the apartment. As soon as your arm was strong enough to manage a controller again, you spent hours playing his favorite games with him while the team was away on cases. 

Your office at home had become essentially a satellite BAU hub. The team phoned you in to almost every case, and you took a great amount of joy curating maps and profiles from your office. The display was rather beautiful, at the end of it. Notes and photos and maps all over the walls. 

There were footsteps behind you as you finished pinning a post it to the board. “Hi, jet-setter.” You turned around and quirked a smile at him, admiring him in one of his new suits. He walked toward you, leaving his briefcase at the door. 

He framed your face with his hands and you leaned into him. He kissed you gently, and you slid your hands under his suit jacket. The light, spicy scent of his cologne hit your nose and you smiled against his mouth. 

“I missed you out there,” he said, his lips traveling down your neck and jaw. 

You huffed a laugh, and you planted your hands in his hair. “I was on video with Penelope the whole time.” 

He hummed into your skin. “Not the same and you know it.” He pulled back, running his hands over your upper arms. 

You watched him take stock of you, his eyes tracing over the scars on your forearm, your pinkie that wouldn’t quite sit straight anymore, and the nebulizer on your desk behind you. “I’m alright, Aaron.”

He kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around you, holding you to his chest. “I know.” Your hands curled around the fabric of his dress shirt at his sides. He tucked his head and pressed his lips to your skin. “I know.”

+++

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