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#I was like….four hours wasted and was it worth it?
ahalal-uralma · 2 years
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I am watching the junior bake off and the one child is yelling, “it’s red!” while the other yells back “no it’s pink!” and then, they’re yelling “it’s dark pink!” “dark pink IS red!!!!”
I am sorry, but it’s this energy. Kids really are taking after their elders on media:
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#personal#text#anyone else like watching baking competitions?#they just came out with the junior one and it’s entertaining to see the kids try to mirror the adults in the spin-off of the series#also what is it about red that makes people get unhinged in general#I remember working at picture people and listening to one of the other photographer’s there lose it over a set of photos#she couldn’t agree with another girl on the lighting of the backdrop and how it came out#actually made the family do a reshoot so she was confident it was red in the background to their liking#I was losing my mind at register trying not to laugh#especially when it came to ring up the sale#after all of that they only earned like $100 on the sale which means at best for commission they would get $20 on their paycheck for tip#I was like….four hours wasted and was it worth it?#also DO NOT work for picture people because you not only have no copyright claim to your photography#but they barely payout for commissions and your minimum wage will be garbage#and they don’t do it till you’ve made $100 on a sale#which is why if you’ve been a customer it seems like a battle to avoid being charged $300#your photographer is desperate to make a livable income#because the company is cheap and exploitive as shit#also don’t get me started on a rant about uniform#arbitrary nitpicking on how your shirt is tucked in and everything#and women are pressured to keep their hair up#makes no damn sense why that matters
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hey if im scrolling down your websites page and the text keeps jumping around to the point i cant fucking read the contents because of your stupid fucking ads and automatic playing videos keep getting in the fucking way im not going to stay on your crusty website for longer than it takes me to close the tab and also i hope you fucking choke
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areislol · 7 months
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“You really took care of us huh?”
►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader
►— warnings. nothing that i know of?
►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.
►— a/n. OMG IM SO SORRY FOR PUTTING THIS OUT LATER THAN EXPECTED 😭 instead of writing i was playing a game so that’s on me, i was also unbelievably tired this week, my fault! but it’s out now 🫶🏻
►— wordcount. 4.1k
✧ part one | ✧ part two | ✧ part three | ✧ part four | ✧ part five | more tba.. NAVIGATION
recommended to listen to: wave to earth - seasons or only - leehi
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You never expected, not even in a million years or like.. in a lifetime for the video game characters coming alive and appearing in your room.
And they were handsome too, like, drop-dead gorgeous and the fact that they all respect and love you… You were surely the luckiest person alive right now.
These men also made your bank account cry, the amount of money you had spent on them—pulling for them (and losing many 50/50’s) and their weapon, grinding for hours trying to get their materials to ascend them and for their weapons, artifacts (you’d rather not talk about it) skills and EVERYTHING.
You put more work into making sure they’re all fully taken care of and put to the best of their ability than compared to your work. It was a bit concerning yes but, this game—the characters, we’re so comforting to you than anything else. So of course you poured your whole soul into the game and their characters.
(Also the fact that you also read fanfics about them and now they’re suddenly in your room does not help with your infatuation with them)
And so this brings you to where you were now, showing off their showcase at 10 in the morning.
“Oh wow Y/n! You worked really hard to make us strong.. no wonder why I felt so strong all of the sudden in one day..”
Aether watched in awe and amazement as you showed him his artifacts and his weapons with Venti, Pierro, Diluc, Kaeya, Tighnari and a few others hovering and peeking out from behind your chair, watching as you showed Aether’s build to everybody.
The rest were in your living room, eating breakfast. You had decided to eat breakfast after showing the people who wanted to know their builds.
For some reason their characters were still in the game despite really being in your world. You would have to ask Albedo about this later.
“What about me?” Diluc grumbled, trying his best to ignore the states he got. “What? I can’t ask Y/n something so simple?” Everybody shook their heads “no”.
Smiling, you replied. “Of course! I remember when your skin first came out I was all over it, I made sure to buy it to, did you like it? I think it looked beautiful on you.”
Diluc blushed at your words and nodded his head. “Mhm. I loved it, Y/n, thank you.” He stated, smiling warmly down at you.
You began to stroll through your characters until you found Diluc. “There you are—look at you! So handsome..” you sighed dreamily before snapping out of your trance and cleared your throat and began to go through his build.
Once you had finished showing Diluc and everybody his showcase, more people wanted to know about theirs and obviously you couldn’t say no so that’s how you ended up showing nearly everybody’s build and showcasing their skills and whatnot.
“And yeah! I did spend a lot of money but it was.. I guess worth it? I mean I’m glad you guys felt strong and all!”
Tighnari sighed and rested his hand on your desk. “We are all thankful, but seriously you didn’t have to spend all of the days you worked so hard for..” he explained, Diluc agreed with him.
The rest, too, didn’t want you to waste your hard work but then again for you to work so hard on and take care of them ignited something inside of them, so they couldn’t complain.
Before you could respond, a knock was heard. “Come in!” You shouted, turning around in your chair to see who it was.
Lyney entered the room and smiled at you (ignoring the others) “are you done? Your breakfast may get cold you know..” his gaze wanders off to the guys beside you. “Oh, and yours too.”
You could hear the scoffs coming from Diluc and Pierro. “Yeah I’m pretty hungry right now, and was it (Vietnamese) broken rice I smelt?” You asked, getting up from your seat and walking towards Lyney. He nods his head.
“Yeah, Aether found the recipe in a book and found the ingredients for it, lucky huh?”
As you smiled at him and began to walk out of your room followed by the others as Lyney cocks his head to the side—ordering them to get a move on and out of your room. “Come on, I bet you all are starving right now!”
Making your way to living room, you found everybody already done with their breakfast, with only a few plates placed on the coffee table for you and the others.
“Ouuuuh it looks absolutely delicious? Who cooked it?” You asked, sitting down on a pillow beside Xiao and Wriothesley.
“Thoma did with the help of Neuvillette and Childe, surprisingly.” Cyno responded, eyeing Childe from the corner of his eyes.
“Hey… what’s that supposed to mean?!” Childe yelled, pouting at Cyno before looking at you, betrayed and defeated.
You shrug your shoulders and began to dig in your food with Diluc, Venti, Pierro and Tighnari mirroring your actions, sitting down and eating their breakfast.
Childe began to make his way towards you and pushed the other men away that were behind you, this obviously annoyed them but before they could yell at him (start world war 3*) he had wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck.
“You don’t think I poisoned your food, do you?” He mumbled, even though you couldn’t see his face you knew he was pouting.
You shake your head no, not even reacting to his affection—you were somewhat used to it. “‘Course not, I don’t think you could ever actually.”
Childe smiled on your skin and tightened his grip on you. “Mhm. Thanks snookums.”
Everybody cringed (some nearly gagged) at the corny pet name. “Snookums, really? Out of all the petnames.. and it’s not the first time he called them that.” Kaveh whispered to Al-haitham who was obviously disgusted by the pet name.
“Mhm, it truly is disgusting..” Al-haitham whispered back, looking away from the ginger.
Childe rolled his eyes at their reactions and continued to hold you in his arms, Xiao holding back his urge to tackle him right there and then but you were in his arms so he couldn’t, because if he did you would get harmed and he would rather die than hurt you.
While you were eating your breakfast, you grabbed the remote and began to go through the channels—animal documentary, no.. news, yes. Setting down the remote on the table you listened closely to the news.
You weren’t the type to listen to the news but today was an exception, because you just felt like it. “What’s that?” Ayato asked, eyes ogling at the news reporter in the middle addressing the weather.
“Oh-“ “how does she know the weather so precisely?”
“Because, she is a news reporter, she reports on the weather and gives us all of the latest news about whatever.”
The sounds of them “oooh”ing and “aah”ing could be heard from all around you. With Al-haitham and Dainsleif just giving a small “mhm.”
You spend the next few minutes just eating breakfast and watching them all eye the TV and listen closely to the woman. This was.. interesting to them, they had never experienced this before.
Finally you were done eating breakfast, you were the last one to finish so as you began to wash your dish, you looked back and found Neuvillette behind you.
“Oh- god!” Your body jolted as your heart rate spiked up. “You scared me!” You said, sort of breathless.
Neuvillette sends you an apologetic look and apologies. “I’m so sorry for scaring you like that.. I apologize. I should’ve told you beforehand..” his brows furrowed, he looked extremely guilty it was eating your heart away. You couldn’t just not forgive him!
“It’s really okay Neuvillette! I just got a little scare was all..” you laughed at his scared face and turned back around to wash your dish. “What did you want?”
There was silence at first, Neuvillette didn’t respond, there seemed to be a nervous and awkward tension between you two.
“Neuvillette..? Did you want something?” You repeated, placing your dish in the dish rack before washing the other utensils, still awaiting his response.
“I-..” Neuvillette pauses, cheeks slightly tinted with red. “I uhm. I wanted to..” all of the sudden Neuvillette suddenly pulls you in a hug from behind, his arms awkwardly wrapped around your waist.
You were caught off guard by his action but you already knew all of them were touch-deprived and or just wanted to be next to you all the time.
“What’s the matter?” You asked, letting him embrace you in his warm arms from behind. “When I saw Childe hugging you I just.. felt something weird. I wanted to, lord forbid, push him and take his place.”
His words caught you off guard causing you to laugh abruptly and drop the utensils in the sink, a loud "CLUNK!" could be heard. "Oh whoops.. any who uh- Neuvillette are you.." you turn around and raise your brow, smirking up at him.
"Am I what?"
"Are you jealous~" your teasing voice made his heart skip a beat, his eyes focused on you, brows furrowing. "Me? Jealous? I don't know what you mean." Neuvillette sighed, his grip on your waist tightened.
You eyed him and slowly nodded your head. "Mhm.. sure.." Neuvillette peeks his head to the side and spots the utensils still unwashed. "Would you like me to clean the rest? You could go rest and bond with the rest."
Turning your head back around to look at the utensils that laid in the sink. You hummed for a few seconds before responding—"why don't we both clean them? You wanted to be with me right?"
Neuvillette nods his head, offering you a smile. You two began to wash the dishes together with Neuvillette standing beside you, after a few minutes all the dishes were on the dish rack, water dripping off down into the sink.
"All done! Now let's go join the others" you excitedly hummed, grabbing a hold of Neuvillette's arm and walking over to where the rest were.
Kazuha smiled and waved his hand at the both of you, once spotting you with Neuvillette. "You're back! What do you want to do now?"
You sit down on the end of the couch and sighed. "I'm not sure.. I do need to clean my house though, its been a while since I last cleaned it." ever since the men appeared in your room your house has.. sort of been trashed.
Not entirely trashed (Thoma, Kazuha, Diluc, Tighnari and Al-haitham kept the house clean) but still, you really needed to do a deep clean—ever since you've bought a house it really has been a hassle to keep everything in place as you were still in college and had to multi-task.
The mention of cleaning your house definenetly perked some heads up. "Cleaning? I can help!" Thoma offers, eyes shining with excitement (yes he loves cleaning and cooking and everything domestic, he IS the male wife).
"Me too!" "me three, I can help as well!" others chimed in as well, Childe stood up and raised his hand. "I will be the biggest help, don't worry Y/n! What's the biggest job I can do?"
Everybody groaned at the ginger's words and shook their heads in disappointment. Giving his words a thought, you hummed and put on your thinking face.
"Hm.. well I would say cleaning every single crevice you know.. the nook and crannies." you replied, smiling at Childe. He immediately grabbed a duster and set off to clean single crevice.
"I'll wipe the surfaces and all." Al-haitham states, getting up and grabbing some wipes before doing his thing.
"I'll organize your clothes Y/n! Oh and ours too"
"I'll go mop the floors."
Soon, you pretty much gave everybody a role to do (or they just gave themselves the role) and they all set off to do their jobs. Honestly, this had to be one of the best days ever—your house was going to be squeaky clean and plus you get to see them doing domestic chores.
"If you guys need any help just ask me okay?" you mentioned, dusting the books on a shelf. A collective "yes ma'am!" could be heard. They were so respectful it made you fold.
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After what felt like hours of cleaning (it was, approximately 4 hours of cleaning) you flopped down on the couch along with a few others and heaved a great sight.
"Good job everybody!! the house looks so much cleaner now..." you sighed, chest heaving up and down. You were all tired, apart from Thoma, Tighnari, Al-haitham and Albedo, they still had energy left.
As you got up from the couch to fetch a glass of cold water, you got a fright from seeing Gorou sitting at your feet, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes.
"Gorou? What's wrong?" you asked, your heart melting at the sight of his ears pressing flat against his head. Gorou stared up at you—his eyes glistening.
He inches closer to you, his arms wrapping around your legs. "What. Is. He. Doing." Childe whispered to Pantalone, eyeing Gorou with... some disgust. Pantalone shrugs. "Lord knows what."
"Uhm, If I may ask Y/n.. Do you think I did a good job today? For uh.. cleaning the house."
Your brows furrowed in confusion as he asked the question. What does that even have to do with anything.. "Yes, you have, why?" you questioned, watching Gorou lower his gaze to the floor.
Everybody watches as the scene unfolds, they were confused, scared, worried, but more so confused.
"Could I get a head-pat?" Gorou asked quietly, his eyes still focused on the floor, his head lowered as if to invite you to pat your head. Was he asking for a head-pat (some kind of reward) for his hard work?
Nodding your head, you began to pat his head softly, enjoying how soft his hair was, your hands would occasionally caress his ears and my god were they super soft!! Heat rushed to Gorou's cheeks as he realized you had no intention of stopping. Not that he was complaining.
"Gorou.. did you know your hair is very soft? Like, unbelievably soft! I could touch it all day if I could.." you exclaimed, if Gorou allowed you, you would definenetly be running your fingers through his hair furiously because it was just way too soft.
You wondered if the other's hair were soft too, I mean, all of theirs's looks soft, Neuvillette and Ayato's looked soft and silky. You should go look for an excuse to touch their hair soon..
As everybody watched Gorou enjoy his head-pats, they all eyed him with jealousy (if you look closely you can clearly see fume coming out of their ears right now), wishing that they were in his position—receiving head-pats from you, what a dream. And they were sure to make it come true.
"Ahem, dearest Y/n, don't you think that I too, did a fantastic job in scrubbing the shower too?" Kaeya sighs dramatically, sliding down and sitting next to you, batting his pretty eyelashes at you.
You turned to face him, pursuing your lips. "Well.. I mean.. yeeeessss..?"
It was a bit confusing after that, Kaeya asked for you to pat his head as well, saying that he "deserved it" (which he did) but then after that the others started to ask for some head-pats too. So in the end you had to give everybody a head-pat, it was very time consuming.
Soon, it was 1 pm—it was time for lunch. Time has gone by so fast with them, you (unfortunately) stop petting Al-haitham's hair and stand up from the couch.
"I'll go make some lunch now okay? Something simple like maybe a sandwich or something, is anyone hungry?"
While a few replied with "I'm hungry" some replied saying that they weren't hungry and would eat a snack of some sort. You began to grab out the ingredients to make a simple grilled cheese sandwich.
You made sure that the men weren't allergic to anything beforehand, you would definenetly not be having beans around Itto at all, while you were busy making everybody sandwiches, Zhongli sat on the chair behind the kitchen counter, watching your every move.
It was sort of uncomfortable, yes, but you didn't really mind at all. You were used to their curious stares after all.
"Zhongli, would you like to be the first one to try it out? I want to see if I need to add anything or fix anything up."
This wasn't your first time making sandwiches but still, you were positive they weren't used to your (earth) sandwiches so why not make Zhongli your taste-tester?
Zhongli nods his head, giving you a warm smile in the process and god was he so handsome. "Of course, It would be an honor to be the first to taste your sandwich." and with that you placed the plate – with the grilled cheese sandwich on it – on the counter, waiting for Zhongli to take his first bite and his opinions on it.
As Zhongli grabs the sandwich and takes the first bite, munching on it. You weren't nervous at all, watching him eat your sandwich. Okay that was a lie you were totally nervous. I mean making a grilled cheese sandwich? Nothing big! But the fact that Zhongli, a handsome, fine, fancy man is sitting right across from you and eating your sandwich is!!!
Studying his face got you nowhere. His face was as always, nonchalant and somewhat still, after swallowing, he looked up and set his gaze on your face.
"It's... amazing! I've never had anything like this before, a simple grilled cheese sandwich I've had but to have it made from you and in your household, in your world, makes it all the better. The taste is also immaculate, truly other worldly. Quite literally."
You crack a smile at his joke at the end and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god.. so it's okay, thanks Zhongli!" you thanked him before going back to making some more before finally setting them all down on the kitchen table, counter, and coffee tables (and some other places as well since those all of them can't fit in three spots).
Tighnari had noticed that you had a couple of plants in your home, they were.. not in the best condition, he had to say. But that was no problem! He could help you raise and take care of them.
"Say, Y/n. Please do not take any offense to this whatsoever but do you take care of your plants?"
The question was out of the blue, yes, and it did catch you off-guard for sure. "Oh- uh, my plants? Well the truth is I haven't really been taking care of them.. I mean I would love to but I'm very forgetful." You explained while smiling sheepishly, it was embarrassing after all.
Tighnari nods at your response and offers you help to which you obviously agree to! I mean who wouldn't? He would take care and nurture your dying plants? Deal!
Everybody began to eat lunch as for the ones who weren't hungry just lounged in your room, Al-haitham read a historical book that you haven't even finished reading (you only bought it because of you thought the cover was really vintage), Pierro stood in front of your window, staring out to the view of the skyscrapers and buildings. Albedo and Cyno were sitting on your bed in silence, waiting for you to finish eating and come back.
"What a total weirdo.." Cyno whispers to Albedo, eyeing the tall, old (and stinky, that's what they call him) fatui. Albedo simply glances at Pierro and looks back at Cyno, confused. "How so? I think it's totally normal to gaze out of the window, don't you think? I mean, the view is absolutely fantastic out there.. so many things we've never seen and don't you agree that the flowers that bloom down near the window looks absolutely-"
Cyno groaned as Albedo ranted on and on, what Albedo was trying to say was basically, staring out the window was "normal". But of course, he couldn't be rude about it so he had to painfully listen to Albedo spitting out nonsense.
Finally, you (along with others) finished your food and washed your dish before walking into your room, leaving everybody else who was still not done (Heizou, Kaveh and surprisingly, Tighnari, are slow eaters).
"You're done eating? What do you want to do now?" Pierro asked, his voice rumbling deeply that it gave Cyno a spook, it gave him the hibbie jibbies. Humming, you thought about your answer but concluded that you wanted to do nothing but sleep.
"Eh, not really. I do want to get a nap in though, I'm sort of tired." You yawned, flopping down onto your bed between Cyno and Albedo. "Would you want us to leave and let you sleep in peace or..?" Pierro asked once again, his face scanning yours.
You shake your head, covering your body in your sheets and curling into a ball. "I'm okay with you guys here don't worry. Pierro could you close the blinds please?"
Pierro nods and closes the blinds at your command, the room now dimly lit. Soon your heavy eyelids take over, but not before the sound of the door clicking open and then followed by Childe complaining about you leaving him.
The obvious sounds of groaning and complaints about Childe could be heard too (Itto was complaining REALLY loudly.), Cyno shushes everybody entering your room, pointing at your trying-to-fall-asleep figure.
"Ooooh, whoops! Sorry Y/n!" Childe apologizes, cringing at the thought of his loud voice waking you up. You could barely hear him though, drowsiness taking over your body and thoughts, nothing was left in your brain except for one thing—sleep.
Kaeya rolls his eyes at Childe before slowing and carefully closing the door shut. "It's only 2:30 pm, isn't sleeping in the afternoon bad or something?" Gorou asked, peeking his head from behind Itto to look at you.
Albedo hums. "Well, yes, but considering that they have been tiring themselves out since we've arrived, I think they deserve this well-deserved rest. Don't you agree?"
The surrounding men agreed, nodding their heads. "I agree, we should let Y/n sleep, I think I should too, without Y/n I'll be bored..." Kazuha yawns, already getting ready to take an afternoon nap with you.
After Kazuha laid down on the mattress, a few others started to mirror his actions. Itto, Ayato, Capitano, Thoma and Kaveh began to settle down on the mattresses while the others went to the other room to take a nap as well (some didn't want to so they stayed out of the rooms and watched the TV or played board games).
Normally when you sleep during the afternoon, you would wake up in the middle of the night, and oftentimes you fail to fall back asleep. And that is exactly what happened to you.
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In the dimly lit room, darkness envelops every corner. The only source of light is the faint glow seeping through the curtains, painting the room in a hazy ambiance. You lie on your bed peacefully, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with each gentle breath you take in your sleep, the softness of the pillows cradling your head.
The darkness of the room seems to cocoon you and everybody, it is as if the night itself has woven a protective blanket around you all, the silence is broken only by the distant hum of the city, a lullaby that lulls you deeper into your peaceful slumber.
But soon, your eyelids flutter gently, and in the dark room, you can hazily make out the scene before you. Outside, the moon casted its soft glow through the window, casting delicate patterns on the bodies of the men and on the wall. It illuminates your face.
It was so comforting to you, the soft glow of the moonlight completing everything.
As you take in your surroundings you begin to understand that you were cuddling Kazuha while Ayato had his arms wrapped around you. Smiling softly, you snuggled in closer to Kazuha's chest—pressing your cheek against his warm and slowly rising chest.
And in this dimly lit room, you slumber on, oblivious to the world outside. The darkness embraced you like a mother's embrace, offering comfort, it is a place where dreams are born and nurtured, where the imagination takes flight and as the night deepens and silence engulfs the room, you continued to sleep peacefully, unaware of the outside world.
But then before you could fall asleep your eyes shot open, I have to work tomorrow. Groaning, you nuzzled your face more into Kazuha's chest, knowing the next day would be tiring.
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note: IM SO SORRY FOR PROCRASTINATINGGGG i just got home a couple days ago and my jet lag is pretty bad and i have to work and all of that jazz!! thankfully i got myself together and finished it :)
taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @hex-vx @saltylovetale @backintomykpopphaseagain @toramune @oreo-ren @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @amaizverydum @lovelive-animequeen1029 @roseapov @yuraasia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealamp @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanisty @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-sh @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcroww @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu
(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter!)
liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!
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ithebookhoarder · 5 months
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(BAU Headcanons) Spending a day off with your S.O.
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Aaron Hotchner
Ok. So. First of all... Aaron's casual wardrobe is sinful and I feel like I need to mention it when talking about days off. After all, he's not going to turn down the excuse not to wear a shirt and tie, knowing jeans and his usual polo shirts are better suited to both relaxing and possibly chasing after Jack.
If you two ever got a rare day off then he would do his best to make you breakfast in bed, knowing that having an excuse to stay in bed is a luxury.
If Jack is with you, and not at Jessica's, then you know Jack would be right next to him in the kitchen, begging to help. I mean, if you watch Bluey, picture the episode where Bingo is trying to make that omelette for Bandit on his birthday... that's basically the vibe here.
Hotch wouldn’t try to force you out of the house if you didn’t want to go, as he’s perfectly happy to stay in and play with you and Jack. After all, you have the most recent lego set, which you bought him for his birthday, to finish building.
"You up for that buddy? Six hands are better than four, after all."
Or, if you don't have the energy or patience, then you three can curl up on the sofa together and watch movies and the backlog of tv shows you’ve missed out on whilst you’ve been away working. 
Fun Fact: Aaron would rather die than admit to the rest of the BAU that you got him hooked on reality shows like The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills or Below Deck -but he is. He finds them fascinating case studies in human behaviour... or that's his excuse anyway when you call him out on it.
However, if you do want to actually leave the house and get outside then he’d be pretty relaxed about whatever it is you wanted to do, as long as you could all do it together. 
He'd also love it if you both got the chance to go for a run, enjoying the rare opportunity to race you through the nearby park. You can just soak in the sunshine and watch the other people as they make their way through the world, before grabbing a coffee on your way home.  
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David Rossi 
Rossi is a man who knows the value of creature comforts, as we've seen repeatedly in the show. You know this man enjoys having time off to indulge himself - and you too.
As soon as he knows he has the day off, you can bet he's driving you to the local farmer's market to buy all the ingredients needed for a home cooked feast. 
Despite promising to be there only an hour, you know he's the kind of person who would talk to each and every vendor, learning all their names and asking after their families as if they've been friends since birth.
You'd end up spending almost the entire morning - and part of the afternoon - shopping, sampling various treats and wares, and buying several bag's worth, before you're finally able to drag him back to the car.
As he's cooking, Rossi would definitely play his favourite records. He alternates between crooning along and telling you tidbits about the artists - and the many crazy memories he has about these records.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I first heard this? We were in this tiny little motel, in the middle of a horrific blizzard, and several whiskeys in..."
It's hard not to get distracted, drawn in as he pulls you close and starts dancing about the kitchen. You'd get so distracted that you almost let dinner spoil and only remember it's even there when you start to smell something burning.
"Ah! Merda!"
After dinner you know you'd end up outside on his patio, enjoying the view as the sun goes down, over a cocktail of his choosing.
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Derek Morgan
You know this eager beaver would not be spending a day off with you doing nothing or letting the day ‘go to waste’.
He’d be at your doorstep bright and early, looking unfairly energetic for someone who has been running on minimal sleep all week.
Thankfully, he brings coffee and breakfast with him which is his way of bribing you to get your ass up and out with him. 
As for the day itself, he’d either have the day planned to a ’t’ or he’d have nothing planned at all. 
“Relax, sweetness, we’re letting the day take us where it may. Enjoy the ride.” 
He'd love having a reason to take you to whatever property he's renovating, hoping to share his vision for the place and getting your opinion on it all.
He'd even let you have a swing or two with a sledgehammer if there's a dry-wall that needs taking down. It's a great stress-reliever for you both, and there's nothing like hammering along in the time to beat of whatever playlist he's chosen.
He'd also order you a pizza, or whatever take-out you fancied, as payment for all your hard work.
You know he'd also been keen to help you wash up later, running you both a hot bath to soak in as you actually have the time to enjoy it.
And just between us - he knows Hotch and Rossi would have his guts his they found out - but he may or may not have left your cellphones on the bed-side table just to ensure you get an hour of peace, undisturbed...
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Emily Prentiss
Ok. So. Emily loves having a day off almost as much as she enjoys working.
She doesn't require much in the way of plans. In fact, her ideal day off from the BAU involves you, a crossword puzzle, and your usual table by the window at the coffee shop around the corner.
It's right by the window, so you can bathe in the sun whilst you nurse your way through coffee after coffee.
The whole place reminds her of one similar that she spent her time in, in Paris. Just like then, she loves reading books, and completing the daily crossword with your help.
"Damn it. This is what time in Europe gets you - I forgot there's no 'u' in color. No wonder it wasn't fitting."
Emily also has a game she likes to play, watching the people around you, guessing what their stories are and imaging outlandish profiles for them all. It's a privilege to enjoy it when it's for entertainment and not out of a need to be aware of your surroundings or an ongoing threat assessment. 
Afterwards, you'd go for a stroll around the park and most likely visit the shops you rarely get a chance to.
You both spend ages going through the racks and modelling outfits for one another, knowing you need some new things to fill out your wardrobes other than work-attire. It's a like private treat for yourselves.
Once you're home again, I feel Emily would want to cook and would do a pretty good job when she has the energy. However, she is not above ordering takeout when you both can’t be bothered. 
After all, it gives you both more time together to lie in bed, with Sergio curled up between you, purring loudly as you take it in turns to pet him.
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JJ
Depending on when you two got together (before or after Will), she would love to have a chance for the both of you to spend the day with Henry.
You're her family and the most important thing in the world to her. It's why she can't stop beaming as you spend the afternoon at the park together, running rings around the place and clambering all over the playground.
"I swear this kid is faster than most of the Unsubs we chase - and more sneaky too."
JJ would bring all your favourite snacks with her so you can all lie out on the grass and feast once your energy levels drop. She doesn't even mention the sugar content or how many E-numbers there are. You all deserve a treat, Henry included, so she's willing to put her 'mom hat' aside for a minute.
I feel like she'd also try and put her mom hat aside so you two can have some time without a child in tow. She'd try and make a last minute arrangement to get a sitter so you two can have some 'adult' time.
This normally involves making a reservation at your favourite restaurant, and insisting on you both dressing fancy just for the fun of it.
After all, you never get to play at being grown ups and just enjoy wearing something because it looks nice and not because you can run around in the field in it.
"I've had these heels for years and I swear I've only got to wear them like three times - and this skirt! I love this skirt."
Once you get to the restaurant, you spend hours just talking, drinking, and eating before taking a stroll on the way home.
You then curl up in bed and fall asleep to the sound of the TV playing your favourite movies, safe and warm in each other's arms.
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Penelope Garcia 
This girl is the queen of relaxing. If she doesn’t have to be awake before noon then you can bet your ass she’ll be tucked up and toasty till 12:01. 
Once she's awake, however, she's a flustered mess, struggling to pick between her various plans for your time off together. There's just so much she wants to do with you and never enough time.
"What? I'm the queen of fun and I just want to make sure we make the most of our time together, sugar plum. I can't help it. I'm excited to have a day just you and me, not that I don't love the others too. I do, but you know, just having it be us is rare -"
You stop her rambling with a kiss, which of course makes her melt.
I feel like Penelope would always try and spend part of the day with you in the kitchen, baking a new recipe to take to work for the others to try.
She'd also love spending the day on the sofa with you, watching either a Rom-com or a Sci-fi marathon (depending on your moods).
Once the decision has been made, she'd insist on gathering supplies - AKA: onesies, takeout and face masks.
"It's the holy trinity of self-care," she explains, holding up your choices. "Now, do you want the tea-tree or coconut face mask?"
However, if you do feel like getting out of the house, then Penelope would take you on theatre trips - which are booked last minute but with amazing seats (courtesy of Penelope’s connections and slightly unorthodox know-how).
The others are still jealous after finding out she got you tickets to Hamilton, front row, with the original cast.
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Dr Spencer Reid
You know Spencer is the kind of person that has a list of things the size of his arm that he’d love to do with you on a rare day off. 
You’d probably have to negotiate with him to figure out which ones you could reasonably do in just 24 hours - and you try to find a balance between appeasing his interests and yours. 
For example, you don’t mind sitting through a Russian movie festival if afterwards he agrees to let you wander around your favourite bookshop and spend as long as you want exploring the shelves - without him critiquing or spoiling the endings before you even have a chance to read the blurb. 
If you also happened to let it slip that you'd never watched every single episode of Doctor Who that's ever been made, then you know your future days off will be spent marathoning on the couch. 
"I'm just saying that he's underrated as the Doctor as arguably the narratives of his episodes are far better developed and reflect the point of the show, which is that the Doctor isn't perfect but rather a time-travelling refugee who acts as a healer, counsellor, and protector of the universe. It's why he calls himself 'The Doctor' ..."
He always looks so adorable when he gets excited about something he loves. It's hard not to fall in love with him all over again.
Apart from watching TV, you both also love spending days off on that couch, curled up together, reading your way through the stack of books you both had in your never ending ‘TBR’ pile. 
Spencer would love listening to you discuss whatever you're reading, doing his best to memorise the characters, plots, and your thoughts on both. It's the least he can do when you listen so patiently every time he starts rambling on about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is.
"Can I... can I borrow that when you're finished? I'm now curious - just don't tell the others, ok?"
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Masterlist
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yoon-kooks · 1 year
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pastries & promises | jjk
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⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader
⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au
⛓️summary: After hooking up with the hot nerdy boy in your coding class over the weekend, you’ll use any excuse to keep his hands on your body all week long.
⛓️word count: 3k
⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, mention of getting wasted at parties, one instance of slut-shaming, oc makes an ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol, no explicit smut in this drabble
⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️
a/n: this takes place a few days after p&p jjk & oc start talking to give us a glimpse of what their new dynamic is like in & out of class✨ btw despite what oc says about earl grey, i personally love it;;
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After a weekend of sex, coding, kitten shenanigans, and more sex, you wake up to a beautiful boy with equally beautiful tattoos nagging you to “get the fuck up” for the “hundredth time” because “class starts in twenty minutes” and “attendance is worth 25% of your grade.” It somehow slipped your mind that it’s already Monday. Can he really blame you after fucking you silly several hours ago?
You tug at the collar of his hoodie and pull him on top of you. Still very much naked beneath the sheets, you suggest, “Or we can just skip class and extend our weekend? I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”
“Nice try, but no.” Jungkook offers you a hand and pulls you into an upright sitting position. The sheets slide down your chest, and you catch the boy staring a little too long.
“And you expect me to walk into class without a bra?” It’s not your fault you rushed over to his place last night in nothing but a baby tee and leggings. Why bother throwing on a bra when you know it’s gonna be torn off your body the second you step into his room?
“I mean, I’m not against it.” His eyes are still locked onto your chest. At least he’s a guy who appreciates art when he sees it. When he’s finally done, he digs through his closet and throws one of his grey hoodies into your arms. “But this will keep you warmer.”
You sniff the hoodie. It’s clean but still has the very scent you’ve familiarized yourself with a lot this weekend—blossoms and bergamot. It smells delicious.
With a sigh, you hop out of the bed and collect your pieces of clothing from every corner of the room. Your thong somehow wound up slung over his computer screen, but better there than on the floor.
Once you’re dressed in your day-old clothes, you slip into the boy’s hoodie and drown in his scent. The warmth that engulfs you makes you want to adopt his comfy casual style. At least on school days. Maybe you wouldn’t dread going to class so much if you could just sit there and be all cozy like that.
You’d still prefer to stay home and fuck him, though.
“You know what, I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden,” you lie. “Maybe you should stay home too so we don’t spread any germs to our beloved classmates.”
“Maybe you should just go to class like a good girl, and maybe you’ll be rewarded afterward,” he throws back at you. The way you perk up is almost embarrassing. But you’ve definitely got a thing for being praised and rewarded for good behavior. Especially if the prize is something pleasurable. So yeah, you suppose you’ll endure class for a few hours so that you can have some more fun later on.
“Fine.” You wrap your pinky around his to solidify the deal. He gives you a look but doesn’t pull his finger away. “But just know that you’re a nerd for never skipping class.”
“And how do you know I never skip class?” He raises his brow with intrigue.
“We’ve been in at least three or four other comp sci classes together, and I’ve never seen you miss a day.”
“Oh, so you’ve been keeping tabs on me all this time?” He’s totally calling you out. But he isn’t wrong. As quiet as Jungkook is in class, it’s hard not to notice someone who’s so incredibly smart. Doesn’t hurt that you’ve always thought he was kinda cute too.
“I guess you could say that,” you admit. What you won’t admit, however, is the fact that you’d wanted to talk to him back then but didn’t know how to initiate a conversation. You might be considered popular, but you sure as hell don’t know how to talk to people unless they strike up the conversation first. And Jeon Jungkook clearly didn’t have any intentions of being the initiator.
Thank god for that partner project that started it all.
Just before the two of you can get out the door, a tiny mew stops you in your tracks. The kitten looks up at Jungkook and cries again.
“You have to stay home, little one,” he says, holding a hand up for her to sit and stay. Like the naughty demon child she is, she ignores everything he says and climbs up his leg and into his arms. You can hear her purring as soon as she rests her chin on her dad’s shoulder like an actual baby. It’s so tempting to take a million pictures of the glorious cat dad moment and set one as your phone wallpaper, but you’d definitely run out of storage. Good to know you have some form of restraint when it comes to your infatuation.
After ten heartwarming seconds, he sets the kitten down in her pink bed and gives her a new tiger toy that was special ordered from some fancy cat shop on the other side of the country. 
“Stay,” he tells her again before rising out of his squat. When she does as she’s told, he adds, “Good kitten.”
Oh, how you wish he was saying that to you right now.
“Your daddy really spoils you, you know that?” you giggle, waving bye to the kitty. A second later, you’re overcome by the urge to latch around Jungkook’s arm as you both head to his car. “When are you going to spoil me like that?”
He doesn’t give you a specific answer, but you’ll gladly accept the way he shrugs with the faintest hint of a smile. The two of you haven’t been talking all that long, and yet, he seems to be tolerating your antics well. At the very least, he must like you a tiny bit.
On the car ride over, you feel like you’re forgetting something. And then the boy’s stomach rumbles. Neither of you has eaten anything since the impromptu fast food run last night.
“Ooh, we should stop by the cute little bakery near campus before class,” you suggest, totally not trying to avoid class for the thousandth time today. “I heard they have really good muffins.”
“We’re gonna be late if we make any detours.” He catches a glimpse of your pout as he makes a right turn. “We can go after.”
Your pout quickly becomes a smile because he keeps sweetening the deal. You’re very much looking forward to the promised pastries and sex after class along with anything else he might throw in.
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When you get to class, the usual gal crowd is hanging around your desk. Except someone else is there sitting in your seat. It’s Big Tim. Great. You love confrontation first thing in the morning.
Before approaching the seat thief, you watch him throw a cocky ass smile at Jungkook who straight up ignores it as he takes his seat next door. You would’ve appreciated a little help, but there’s nothing from Big Tim you can’t handle. Besides, the two of you agreed to keep the whole hookup thing lowkey and out of the mouths of your gossiping classmates. Otherwise Jungkook would probably end up hearing a wacky rumor-fied version of it from his tattoo artist.
“Hi?” you say to the guy in your seat. You’ll play nice for now.
“Oh hi Y/N, we were just talking about you.” Big Tim gives you a much kinder smile than the one he threw at Jungkook—a byproduct of being popular, you suppose.
“About what?” You’re genuinely confused.
“There’s a party at my place this weekend, and I’m hoping you’ll be there.” This is the first time he’s personally invited you anywhere. Is it a coincidence that he’s doing it in front of an audience?
“Thanks for the invite, but I’m all partied out for a while,” you respond as honestly and gracefully as possible. You have no interest in hanging out with Big Tim, but parties aren’t completely off the table forever. It might be fun to bring Jungkook to one eventually, even though he claims he’s uninterested in getting wasted with people he couldn’t care less about. “Can I have my seat back now?”
Big Tim laughs it off like you weren’t being serious. “Aww, don’t be like that. It’s just gonna be a small thing with you, me, and a few others. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
You and him? You almost gag. That doesn’t sound like fun at all. And what’s up with him dismissing your gentle rejection? If he didn’t want to be rejected in front of everyone, he shouldn’t have hyped it up in the first place. Now it just feels like he’s pressuring you into going along with it because he knows you’re too soft to make him look bad in front of others. Unfortunately for him, that’s not going to happen.
“I’m seeing someone—a single father, actually—and I’ve been helping him with his kid. So I don’t have time for your party.” The single father part is a bit of a stretch, but you kind of like the sound of it. He’s your local hot cat dilf after all.
The girls’ jaws all drop at the same time. Big Tim’s smile also drops a bit, but he continues to shrug it off. “Helping a dad with his kid? Anything for a good dicking, I guess.”
Okay, buddy. 
You tried to stay courteous about the whole situation, and this is what you get in return. He can say whatever he wants to make himself feel better about himself, but it’s also sad to see not a single one of the other girls step in and call him out on his bullshit. You’re sick of it.
“Are you done? Can you leave now?” You look Big Tim straight in the eyes, although you’re hoping the girls take a hint to leave as well.
They don’t. Because they’re too invested in how Big Tim will respond as he opens his big mouth once more.
“She said leave,” Jungkook snaps out of nowhere. If you had to guess, he was trying to catch up on sleep after that long night with you, and now he’s cranky and mad that Big Tim can’t just shut up and take the L.
Big Tim and the girls collectively turn their heads toward the grumpy boy who cuts the conversation off with a death glare to each and every one of them. As expected, Jungkook is the only person who’d ever take your side on anything. And that’s why he’s the only one who matters to you these days.
At long last, the crowd disperses and everyone goes back to their seats. Just in time for class to begin.
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As soon as class ends, you stretch your arms out, slip past all the girls who want the deets on this mysterious dilf you’re seeing, and meet back up with said dilf outside the building.
“Bakery time?” You’re smiling awfully bright despite the shitshow that went down before class. But that’s the effect Jeon Jungkook seems to have on you. You’ll take a bad day every once in a while if he’s there to make it a little better.
“Don’t bakeries usually close early?” he asks in a calm voice as if that isn’t the most devastating thing someone has said to you all day. You hadn’t thought about that.
In a panic, you pull out your phone to check the time and google the bakery’s business hours. Before you can get your answer, the boy chuckles, “It’s open. I already checked. You’re just fun to fuck with.”
You’d fight him for messing with you like that, but you’re too distracted by that chuckle. It’s a rare occurrence that you’ll treasure forever. Who knew he had such a charming laugh? And how lucky are you to be the one to hear it?
“By the way, thanks for earlier,” you say as you hop into his car. “I was about to throw hands at Tim.”
“I thought his name was Jim.” The boy looks so confused. You love it. “But yeah, you should’ve thrown hands for all that shit he said.”
“He wasn’t wrong about the good dicking though,” you hum. You can’t even remember the last time sex was this good. 
“Definitely not wrong about that,” Jungkook agrees with a big fat smirk on his face.
When the two of you arrive at the bakery, you’re delighted to see that they haven’t sold out of the famous poppy seed muffins you’ve been eyeing on Yelp. You try to get Jungkook on board with the muffin agenda, but he opts for a buttery croissant—another solid pick. You’ll definitely be stealing a bite out of that flaky pastry of his.
“Which drink are you getting?” you ask, eyeing the drink menu like it’s a map of Disneyland. Everything looks so fucking good that you don’t know where to start.
“A London fog.” You have no idea what that is, but it sounds boring. “It’s earl grey,” he clarifies upon seeing the ignorance in your eyes.
“Isn’t that what old people drink?” you snicker. “You’re a nerd and a senior citizen?”
“Well what are you getting? A hot chocolate, right? Because that’s what babies drink,” he teases back. Now that you think about it, he calls you Baby an awful lot in bed. If the two of you were dating, you wonder if you could get him to call you that all the time. Hypothetically speaking, of course.
You do end up getting the hot chocolate while Jungkook gets his elderly drink. As the barista is ringing the order up at the register, a cute sign catches your attention at the other end of the counter because there’s a cat on it. You wander over to it and pick up one of the baggies with fresh baked cat treats in it. What a coincidence.
“Hey Jungkook, look. Let’s get this for Lucy, too.” Excited by your last-minute find, you scurry back to the register where the boy is already slipping his wallet back into his butt pocket. Fine, if he wants to pay for your breakfast, then you’re paying for the kitty treats.
After you pay and secure all your food, the two of you return to Jungkook’s place. The first thing you do is seek out the kitten who’s busy taking a nap on the boy’s bed instead of in her own.
She blinks at you with heavy eyelids and twitches her nose toward the bag in your hand.
“Good morning, little cutie,” you grin. “I brought you some special treats.”
Her big ears immediately shoot up as she starts pawing at the bag. She’s so fucking cute you could cry.
“You have to ask your daddy if it’s okay to eat one now.” You continue to use your baby voice before turning to the daddy in question standing behind you.
“Just one.” The stern dad voice comes out. “And make sure you break it in half. She’s small, you know.”
“Yes, daddy.” By now, the word slips so naturally off your tongue. You meant for it to be sarcastic this time, but you’re also very aware of what it does to him and his body.
He watches quietly as you break the treat into bits and hold it in your palm for the kitten to gobble up. She meows, optimistic for more special treats, but you stick to the plan and give her more pets and cuddles instead.
“Your daddy is so mean, huh. He doesn’t want you eating any more yummy treats,” you blabber into the kitten’s ear. She makes a whiny sound in agreement.
“Hey, what are you two conspiring about over there?” Jungkook frowns.
“Oh nothing.” You’re about to shoo him away but notice his lock screen flashing on in his hand. It looks like a pic of you and the kitten conspiring together. “Wait, what’s that on your phone?”
“Oh nothing,” he mocks you before changing the subject. “Drink your hot chocolate already. It’s getting cold.”
You take a sip of it as you devour the muffin. Your drink is basically cold chocolate milk at this point, but at least it still tastes amazing. The muffin slaps too.
“Taste,” you say as you offer up your half-eaten muffin to the boy. He takes a bite like a good boyfriend would—except he’s not actually your boyfriend.
“It’s good,” he shrugs as he goes back to the flaky pastry. “The croissant’s better though.”
“Let me taste.” You grab hold of the boy’s chin and taste the butter on his lips. He kisses back with long, tender motions that leave you wanting far more than just a casual makeout session. There’s no doubt in your mind that he tastes better than both the muffin and croissant combined. You pull back for just a second to say, “Hey, wasn’t I promised sex after class?”
“Do the homework first. It’s easy.” Of course Jeon Jungkook has his priorities straight, and of course you listen because you’re craving more of his praise. At least he’s a good influence on you. “And I never said sex specifically, by the way. Is that what you were thinking about in that dirty little head of yours?”
He’s 100% right. Your horny mind just believes whatever it wants to believe. Right now, it's telling you the boy wants it just as much as you do. He’s just better at hiding it.
“It was heavily implied though,” you huff as you take your laptop out and start on a boring coding exercise on his bed. “The sex better be really good!” And that’s a threat.
“When has it not been?” Jungkook shoots you an arrogant look. Good point. And apparently he’s already finished with the assignment because he shuts his computer off and turns his attention to your screen. He sits his ass right behind you, slips his hands up into the hoodie you’re wearing, and whispers into your ear, “Now hurry up and finish. I’m waiting.”
4K notes · View notes
f1byjessie · 3 months
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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.
sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.
( lando norris x photographer!reader )
━━ part four.
“Saw McLaren posted pics of the new car,” Jack says in lieu of a greeting when he sees you after the weekend. He picks up his pace and crosses the distance to meet you where you’re fumbling with the keys to your “office”, and then he takes a few of the many equipment bags you’re attempting to juggle, saying as he does so, “You take any of those or no?”
You laugh, “Ah, no. They actually hire on a whole studio crew that does that. They’ve got lights, green screens, special camera lenses, the whole lot. The post-production on those photos is mad though.” You get the door unlocked and usher him inside, “I got to sit in on it once, and it’s crazy how much work goes into getting just a couple week’s worth of promotional content.”
He sets your bags down where you direct him to and then offers you a snarky grin, “Still probably would’ve looked cooler if you took ‘em, to be fair.”
It makes you laugh again. Jack seems to be good at that, and it feels nice to get along so well with someone you work with. You’ve found a surprising friend in him. At the end of your conversation on Friday, you’d exchanged numbers and he’d made you promise to reach out if you needed him for anything. You hadn’t, but he’d still sent you an unflatteringly angled picture of Kyle Walker from after their match against Newcastle, followed quickly with━ “use this in the next media drop thx,” and the chatter had gone from there.
You set down your own bags. “Well, thank you. Pretty sure it’s not as fun as this job, though.”
And you mean it. You’ve had opportunities to switch over to studio photography, and though you respect the people who do it and the unique challenges it poses in its own right, there’s nothing like being upfront and personal with all the action, getting to see the athletes in their element and know them on a level that goes beyond an hour or two shoot. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“Wait,” you pause, hands stopping just above where you’re ready to start sorting through your equipment, “since when did you keep up with Formula One?”
Jack shrugs. “I don’t. But you work for that team, yeah? So I figured I might as well see what they’re all about.”
“Well, if you need something to do during the summer, let me know and I’ll see what I can do,” you tell him, resuming your sorting. “They give me extra tickets for each race but they usually end up going to waste.”
You don’t bring up the falling out you had with your parents at eighteen when you told them you were going to pursue photography or the fact that you haven’t really talked to them in years because of it. You also don’t mention that due to the strenuous, near-constant traveling and the strict schedule of your job, your friendships are limited to the athletes you work with and the other McLaren staff that travel with you━ all of whom have passes of their own, for obvious reasons.
Jack, thankfully, doesn’t ask about it either. Whether he’s made his own assumptions or respects that it’s probably a sore subject, he leaves it alone and the two of you carry on in companionable silence.
You get your equipment unzipped from the bags and organized across the room per your system, guiding your temporary helper with pointed fingers to where it all should go.
The silence is only broken again when he asks you a question. “You got a favorite driver?”
It’s so out of the blue that you nearly jump, startled by the suddenness of it against the quietness of the room. But then you laugh and shake your head. “Officially no, but just between the two of us, me and Lando started at the same time so he’s got a special place in my heart. He’s also my best friend.”
Jack raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?” Despite the persona he puts on, you think he secretly loves gossip. “How’d he take the news about you being with Ward, then? ‘Cause I’d have some choice things to say to any friend of mine if they got with a prick like that.”
You purse your lips, divert your gaze to avoid Jack’s eyes, and shrug, fiddling with the neck strap of your camera as you do so. “I don’t know.”
“You ‘don’t know?’”
You shrug again and feign checking over the settings as if your camera’s aperture is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “He hasn’t been picking up my calls,” you start, “or answering my texts since the paps released the pics, so.”
When you glance back up, Jack’s making a face. “So, your best friend finds out you’re dating a total bellend, and instead of asking you about it or at the very least taking the piss, he ignores you?”
When he puts it like that, you feel a bit stupid for being more sad than you are angry.
All you can do is shrug.
INSTAGRAM.
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yourusername ladies and gentlemen, jack grealish (i was threatened into posting these, send help pls)
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You decide that if Lando gets to be petty, then so do you.
The thing is, you’d told Lando you wouldn’t replace him with any of the guys from Manchester City, and you’d meant it━ you still mean it, despite your frustrations and annoyances with him telling you otherwise.
But if he’s going to play games, then so are you.
Technically you hadn’t started the relationship with Garrett willingly, but Lando doesn’t know that, and even if you had that doesn’t give him the right to go about ignoring you. You’ve been supportive when he’s gotten girlfriends━ you even ate greasy pizza, drank cheap wine, and cried watching The Notebook together when he ended his long-term relationship back in 2022. He could at least pretend to be supportive, or better yet he could pick up the fucking phone. 
As pathetic as it sounds, you’d let him yell at and berate you if it just meant he’d answer your calls. Because having Jack around to gossip with and shoot the shit is nice, and he really does help you not feel so alone at Etihad Campus, but Lando’s your best friend and he has been for years now. There’s nobody that understands you as well as he does, even if he is a twat half the time, and what you need now most of all is that particular Lando brand of annoying to cheer you up.
The door opens, drawing your attention from where you’re scrolling through McLaren’s newest posts. Garrett stands in the opening.
The memory of that night still lingers like a bad taste in your mouth, bitter and unpleasant. You’ve managed to avoid him for the most part in the time since then, ignoring the looks he shoots your way out on the field or in the weight room, and lucky enough that his meetings with the physio team keep him preoccupied so that he can’t seek you out in between training sessions. You’d known it was inevitable that you’d have to face him, but that doesn’t stop the dread from pooling in your stomach when you see him standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as he surveys the makeshift office you’ve done up for yourself.
“They couldn’t find you an actual office?” He comments, looking disdainfully towards your desk and the large Manchester City logo emblazoned across the front.
You shrug, wishing he’d just get to the point. “I’m only here for a few months. Doesn’t matter much to me. What do you want?”
He takes a step farther into the room and closes the door behind him, taking his sweet time to cross the distance toward the seats. When he’s finally lowered down into one, he looks up to you with a nonchalance that fills you immediately with anger.
“I’m making some amendments to our agreement,” he announces.
“Like hell you are.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Did you seriously expect people to believe we’re a couple if we never actually do anything to give off the impression of being a couple?”
You scowl. Obviously, you hadn’t expected to just skate by on the coattails of pictures from a single night. You’d known from the very beginning that you would eventually need to make another public appearance together at the very least if you wanted to keep the paparazzi fed and encourage the idea to the media that you’re in a committed relationship with one another. You’d just been hoping you would’ve had more time until then.
“I’m not an idiot, Garrett,” you grumble, crossing your arms in your seat. You had been looking through pictures from the day’s morning practice, but now you think having to look at any more of Kevin De Bruyne’s grinning face will make you lose your mind when you feel the furthest thing from happy.
“Obviously,” Garrett scoffs. “But you’re the one who said I get one kiss and nothing more. Newsflash, love━” your scowl deepens, “━couples do more than just kiss one time.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
He pulls his phone from the pocket of his joggers and swipes across the screen for a few moments of anticipatory silence. “Well,” he finally says, “it’s the sixteenth now. We haven’t got a match until the twenty-sixth. Go on a date with me this weekend.”
You can’t say no. There’s no plausible excuse for you to get out of it, and deep down you know the only way you can get rid of Garrett is to just do what he says and hope the media make their conclusions about his change quick enough that you can ditch him before the summer break.
At least during the Formula One season, you can use traveling as a reason to get out of dates. When the Champion’s League starts back up he’ll be traveling around Europe a bit more than he is now, and there’s always a chance you could be in the same country at the same time, but the likelihood of your schedules aligning is slim and that means you’ll be safe from any ventures out into public.
But for the time being, you’re stuck.
“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.
He claps his hands, a deceptively cheerful grin on his face. If you didn’t already think of him as the worst prick you’ve ever met, you might’ve found it charming. It’s the same smile he used to flash at you in your first week when he was trying to cozy up and ease his way into your good graces. The sight of it makes you sick to your stomach, now.
“Great,” he rises from his seat. “We’ll do some shopping, get some lunch━ make a full day out of it.”
At this point, you don’t care what he has planned. You just want him to leave you alone so you can try to at least pretend like you’re gonna finish the rest of the work you need to get around to.
Garrett’s made his way to the door and has his hand reaching for the handle when he turns back around and gives you a smirk. “Might wanna work on your happy face, though, love,” he comments, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. “‘Cause if you look like that in front of the paps they definitely aren’t gonna be very convinced that you love me.”
Just to spite him, you let your scowl deepen. “I don’t need your advice. I know how to handle myself, Garrett.” You say his name like a curse━ like the very feeling of it on your tongue causes you pain.
If he notices, he doesn’t comment. His face turns thoughtful, but there’s still the smugness painted across his features that makes you so unfathomably annoyed. “You must be pretty familiar with the paps if you’re always around those drivers, yeah?” He knows the answer to his question already, so you’re not sure why he’s even asking.
He stays silent, though, like he’s genuinely expecting an answer, so you shrug your shoulders. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” he repeats back to you.
His laughter is all you hear echoing in your ears even once he’s long gone.
Until your phone starts to ring and Lando's name flashes across the screen.
━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght
━━ a/n: cliffhanger hehe~ also, i promise we're getting to ACTUAL formula one stuff soon
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jackactuallywrites · 3 months
Text
Purely Professional
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Medic Reader
Rating: Mature (nothing too explicit but dick is hinted at)
Warnings: Ghost has a boo boo 😔 (blood, facial injury - split cheek and bruising)
Summary: You are the only medic Ghost trusts to treat him. Also you guys are friends with benefits!
Notes: Yes I do always headcanon Ghost with a broken nose. It’s HOT. Also I’m cleaning out the drafts
Word Count: 1,712
ao3 link
“He’s here.”
You didn’t need to ask to know who the other medic was talking about, nodding thanks to the medic as she left, and you quickly finished up with the young woman you were patching up, “You can take ibuprofen as needed, no more than two pills at a time, and space out the dosage to every four hours.” You wrinkle your nose, “I mean, you know how to take ibuprofen, just basic over-the-counter stuff. But come back if there’s any problems.” She nods, “Thanks, Doc.” You weren’t sure how many times you’d specified the difference between a combat medic and a military doctor, but at this point, it wasn’t worth the air, so you just nodded, gesturing for her to take her leave, “Anytime.” She grabbed the pillbox and made her way out of the room, leaving you to clean up the empty wrappings, tossing them into the nearby bin. You tore off the paper that was covering the bed, binning it as well and then rolling out another cover, making sure everything was fresh and clean. When you were satisfied, you walked out of the room into the waiting room, your eyes immediately landing on the one man who didn’t need to be named.
Ghost.
The intensity of his gaze was intimidating, his dark eyes glowering from underneath the skull mask as though he wanted nothing more than to take down every single person who dared to breathe the same air as him. At this point, the other medics had learned that he wouldn’t accept their help, refusing to utter even a single word until you were free. You leaned against the frame of the door that led into the hallway, beckoning him with a jerk of your head. He rose from his seat, seeming to dwarf everyone else around him as he walked through the room toward you, brushing past you without a word and striding straight into the open examination room, the cold silence seeming to emanate off him like a tangible aura, visibly affecting those around him, the other medics shrinking away from him as he passed.
You followed him into the room, closing the door behind you, “So, what can I help you with today, Lieutenant?” He sat down on the bed in the room, resting one forearm on his thigh, gesturing with the other hand to his face, consistently a man of few words. You stepped closer to him, “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that.” He grunted, reaching up to take off his helmet, setting it on the bed beside him, and then unclipping the skull mask, revealing the balaclava underneath. Finally, he pulled off the balaclava, revealing his clipped blond hair, and then his face, bruised and bloody, his cheek split open, blood already dried to his skin. His eyes, thankfully untouched, the black paint surrounding them unmarred, were on you, boring into your face as he watched you.
You didn’t waste time, reaching out to probe his face, your fingers gently holding onto his chin as you turned his head from side to side, inspecting the damage. It looked worse than it was; facial injuries always bled more, and though he tensed when you gently pressed his cheek, there was no sign of anything broken. After taking a moment just to be sure, you drew back from him, walking to the medical cupboard and taking out an antiseptic wipe, talking as you did, “You won’t need stitches.” He grunted, and you took this as permission to begin wiping the blood away from his face.
“So,” you began, always one to make idle chitchat as you worked, “who did you piss off this time?” Ghost watched you, his face solemn, searching your eyes before he responded, his voice barely more than a whisper, “Couple guys.” You smiled as you brushed the wipe over his split skin, “You know if you want to see me, you only have to ask.”
All the tension in his face seemed to ease then, his eyes softening as he looked up at you, “I know.” You took this as permission, gently nudging his legs open so you could stand in between them, closing the distance between you, allowing him to reach out in his own time, and after a brief moment, he did, his hands reaching out to gently rest on your hips, his fingers hesitant, still unused to the intimacy you shared. You cleaned up the rest of the blood on his cheek, giving him time to get used to your close proximity as you brought out a small plaster to cover his wound. In a moment of impulsivity, you pressed a gentle kiss to his damaged cheek, your reward his sharp intake of breath and the tightening of his fingers on your hips, pulling you closer toward him.
“You know,” you began, letting your hands rest on his shoulders, “the other medics are going to think you’re sweet on me.” Ghost let his face rest in the crook of your neck, his voice low, muffled by your shoulder, “I’m not sweet.” You smiled, letting your fingers trace over from his shoulders to the back of his neck, “No? What would you call this?” “Desperate.”
There was no mistaking the longing in his voice, the yearning, the way his fingers pulled you closer to him until your body was pressed against his. Already, his fingers were pulling at your shirt, just like he’d done so many times before, secretive fumbles in whatever vehicle or armoury was nearest, all beginning with some injury he only allowed you to treat, all ending with you wrapped up in his arms. You smiled, shifting one hand to stop his fingers on their insistent path underneath your shirt, “I think they’ll notice if I spend forty minutes in here with you.” Ghost didn’t seem entirely put off by the idea, his face tilting up as his lips began to move over your neck, gently nipping at the skin, his voice husky, “You love this being our dirty little secret, don’t you?”
It was impossible for you to lie to him; after all, he was special forces; no doubt he could sniff out every last secret of yours if he truly wanted to. His hand was already moving from your hip up to your cheek, forcing you to look at him as he pulled away from your neck, his pale eyes searching yours, “Admit it.” Every part of you seemed desperate to touch and be touched by him, and you held back a groan, “Yes. Which is why we can’t do anything in here.” His lips quirked in a smirk, “We wouldn’t want them to think you give this treatment to everyone.” You smiled, “I am supposed to be a professional, after all.” His thumb reached out to brush your cheek, “Couldn’t we both use a little unprofessionalism right now?”
The idea was tempting. Too tempting. You could feel those eyes of his melting away your resolve, and you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, biting the inside of your cheek, “What exactly did you have in mind?” There was a wicked look in his eyes, luring you into sin, to submit yourself to his will entirely, “What I have in mind would make too much of a mess and needs more time than we have.” You tilted your head to the side, curious, “So what do we do?” He was quiet for a moment, his eyes flicking over every single facet of your face, your eyes, your cheeks, your lips. He leaned into you, his nose bumping against yours, letting you feel that little ridge where it had been broken. His words were a murmur against your skin, softer than he ever seemed capable of, “I’ll be content with a kiss for now.”
It never seemed to make sense that a devil could be so sweet; you knew what he was capable of, you’d patched him up, you’d seen his medical records detailing what he’d been through, yet here he was, asking you for that simplest of intimacies. You obliged his simple request, leaning forward to press your lips against his, feeling the slight stubble on his skin prickle yours, his hand shifting from your cheek to the back of your neck, the one on your hip moving to the small of your back to pull you closer to him, encircling your body, his lips soft against yours, yet insistent, needy. He pulled away before you, leaning his forehead against yours, letting out a strained sigh, his hand moving from your back to his crotch, adjusting his trousers to disguise the growing bulge there. “The things you do to me.” His voice held some frustration, his fingers tightening on the back of your neck but loosening just as quickly, always in complete control of himself.
You could see the Lieutenant return, the way his back straightened, the grim determination returning to his lips. His hands fell away from your body, reaching for the balaclava and mask he’d put to the side, and you knew your time with him was coming to a close. You stepped back from him, tucking in your shirt, allowing him to resume that persona, covering his bruised face with the black balaclava and then finishing with clipping his skull mask back into place, his helmet finishing the transformation. All that remained of him were those soft eyes, out of place, surrounded by blackness. He reached up with one hand to tuck a loose hair back under your beret, his gloved fingers gently stroking against your cheek. “I’ll be seeing you.”
There was no doubt that he would find you to finish what you’d started here, but for now, he was back to business, standing up off the table and straightening out his uniform. You crossed the room to open the door for him, allowing the outside world view into your privacy, not that there was anything for them to see. He stalked past you without a word, yet as he passed, his hand reached out to gently squeeze your arse, sending tingles up your spine as he left you wanting, trying hard not to look like a lovesick dog as you watched him go.
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bouncybongfairy · 2 months
Note
hello~ i love ur work and i hope ure doing well! i was wondering if u could write a sub overstimulated zuko with thigh riding and/or dry humping please? thank you 🩵🩵
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Good Boy
Prince Zuko x Fem Reader
Summary: Zuko sneaks you into his room in the palace. After teasing him until he can't take it anymore, you finally let him have what he wants.
Word Count: 1.0k+
Account Ref: @kaionyx
TW: Smut, Overstimulation, Sub Zuko.
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
You’d just gotten back from visiting family, four hours away from home. It was a long two weeks, not to mention the first you’d been away from Zuko since becoming an item. It was hard being away but felt so worth it as you got ready. The entire family was exhausted from the travel, which made it quite easy to sneak out. Making sure you were fully presentable before climbing out the bedroom window. It wasn’t cold outside but you were shivering with excitement. A grin on your face that couldn’t be wiped away. Zuko opened a side door in the palace, beaming when he saw you. Both giggling as he snuck you back to his room. 
It was nice to see a happier side of him, being more carefree. Hiding in corridors or behind large columns until finally making it to his room. It was huge, it always surprised you whenever going inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, kisses the back of our neck. Telling you how much he missed and thought about you all day. Making you blush and laugh as he ambushed your neck with affection. He let you go once you pulled away, walking over to the bed. Taking off your coat and getting comfortable on the bed. Zuko couldn’t get enough of you, burying his face in your neck. Holding you tightly against his body, taking your scent in. 
“Homework? Really?” he asked. 
“I like getting it done early, so I don’t have to worry about it later,” you said, trying to keep your focus on the scroll. 
“I’ll make it worth the worry,” he said, grabbing it from you and setting it aside. 
The temptation was just too much to ignore. Especially when you looked over at him, his hair down and eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were wide and he looked so desperate. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Watching his mouth fall open as you focused your sex against his. Rubbing yourself up and down his length, enjoying his facial expressions. He was rocking his hips, only adding to the pleasure. It was nice seeing him so reactive to your touch. You could feel him throbbing against your clit. His hands were gripping your hips tightly, digging into the skin. Leaning down and connecting your lips together. Not caring about the layer of clothes separating you. After being apart for so long, no point in wasting precious time. He arched his hips up, giving you more access. Taking the hint, you begin to increase your speed. Wanting to see how far you could push it. Both of you were letting out needy moans, you gripped the material of his shirt as you started to cum. Feeling you pulsate and tremble against his shaft sent him over the edge. Cumming into his boxers, soaking the area even further. After sitting together for a couple moments, catching your breath before switching positions. 
“Wanna get on your knees for me?” you whispered into his ear. 
He practically jumped off the bed, dropping to his knees in front of you. It gave you such a high watching him be so eager to please you. The future Fire Lord at your, kneeling in front of you. He’d already came once and you could see he was still feeling the rush of oxytocin. His face was beat red and pupils were wide as could be. Leaning forward, trying to push his face between your legs. You grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling tightly at the strands. He let out a low grunt and looked up at you smirking. Almost like he was relieved he didn’t have to ask to be dominated. 
“What do you want?” you ask, tilting his head to the side slightly.
“Anything you’ll give me,” he said, more like whining. 
You smirked and loosened your grip. Allowing him to finally get his head between your legs. Kissing your inner thighs before moving towards your lips. Flicking his tongue at an agonizing pace. You were touch starved, making things feel more sensitive than normal. He was letting drawn-out moans as he ate you. His cock throbbing against his stomach, hands resting on your knees, which were still trembling. Seeing how reactive your body was to his touch was making him feel dizzy. A combination of your wetness and his saliva was dripping down his chin; making a train down his chest. Completely consumed with pleasure; involuntarily humping the air every once in a while. Meanwhile, you were trying hard not to cum, wanting to ride out the wave of burning pleasure in your lower stomach. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore and came onto his stomach. Being so heavily engulfed in pleasure, he stops working his tongue. Instead, just pressing his lips against yours, moaning and panting against you. 
Still having a grip on his hair, you pull his head back. You jerked his head back pretty hard, his hands flew behind him to catch his weight. His own cum was dripping down his stomach, lips red and swollen. Using the grip you had on his hair, you stand the two of you up and push him onto the bed. He was weak and pliable, which made you giggle. You crawled on top of him, lining yourself up with him before sinking down. Both of you let filthy sounds slip from your lips. The look on his face was priceless, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed. You were rocking your hips faster as he continued to squirm beneath you. His hips were bucking and jolting into you, hitting you right in the cervix. The pain felt more pleasurable than you’d admit. His nails were digging into your thighs. Working yourself on his cock solely for your pleasure; although he still seemed to enjoy himself. Moaning and muttering a mixture of curse words and Zuko’s name as you spill over the edge. Feeling him throb as your walls milked him. Letting your body fall forwards so the two of you were chest to chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and filled the two of you over. Letting his full body weight rest onto you and falling asleep.
280 notes · View notes
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as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·゚misa x putellas!reader, social media au, (3/-)
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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.
or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous
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yourusername: desperately trying to disappear ✌️ Liked by alexiaputellas, albaps9, bff3 and 638 others
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Direct Messages
bff1 now that's a waste of a good drink bff1 but i'll make you a better one and then we can cry and watch your favourite movie and bake cookies or play cards. tell me when and i'll be there 😘 liked by yourusername
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bff2 ❤️💔 bff2 Keep holding on, and don't forget you have us! We're only a phone call away. Shout and we'll come. liked by yourusername
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alexiaputellas You deserve el todo mundo 😘 alexiaputellas Can we come over, laelia? Alba, mami and I? Seen alexiaputellas Yn? Delivered
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albaps9 don't let that shit have this much power over you again, please hermanita ): albaps9 and if she contacts you again, you tell me, okay? albaps9 pls think about yourself. don't let her words get to you. i know you've been talking to someone new lately. don't throw away something that could be beautiful just because of past experiences. albaps9 if you want me to stay with you again for another few days, i'm there within the hour albaps9 answer your phone or i'm coming over albaps9 nvm, coming over anyway with mama and ale. albaps9 we love you, okay? albaps9 and maybe you're the toughest putellas after all albaps9 ❤️ Seen
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↳ 1min ago: yourusername added to their close friends story ↳ 56secs ago: yourusername added to their close friends story ↳ 44secs ago: yourusername added to their close friends story ↳ 10secs ago: yourusername added to their close friends story
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marisabel_rguez: Friends and football, the two best distractions 😁 Liked by leilaouahabi, jennihermoso, alexiaputellas and 18,993 others
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leilaouahabi Oh, so I'm a distraction now? How kind 🤪 ↳ marisabel_rguez Only the best! ↳ leilaouahabi I'll take that compliment. So are you.
jennihermoso Big win, good times 👏💓 ↳ marisabel_rguez 😁🤟
alexiaputellas 😎 liked by marisabel_rguez
haleyraso Aha! So that's why your game has been off lately! 😂😇 ↳ haleyraso Kidding ❤️ liked by marisabel_rguez
sofie.svava Princess!! (the strongest I know) 😇 liked by marisabel_rguez
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tagged: yourusername bff3: Proud of this little one. She's taking life by the horns and showing it who's boss. Liked by alexiaputellas, bff2 and 347 others
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yourusername i love you. all the days serving douchebag drunk tourists and living off tips was so worth it bc it brought you into my life. ↳ bff1 into OUR lives 🥹🥹 ↳ bff3 Even worth serving Arrogant Alex for every weekend for four months? ↳ yourusername omg i'd nearly forgotten about him!!! yikes, but yes. all worth it. ↳ bff3 You forgot Arrogant Alex but not Silly Sander? But same ❣️ ↳ bff2 Even I remember him 😂 ↳ bff1 'you'd never have to work in this lousy shithole if you were mine' ↳ bff3 Then proceeded to visit said lousy shithole every following weekend. ↳ bff2 Capturing hearts since 1998 and 1993💋
alexiaputellas 😍
bff1 you're doing great sweetie xoxo
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tagged: yourusername bff1: claimed this one the second i walked into kindergarten one unsuspecting morning and she, the NEW GIRL, had the audacity to be playing with my favourite plushies. never looked back since. thank you, universe. Liked by albaps9, alexiaputellas, bff2 and 508 others
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bff3 Adorable!!
albaps9 she always cried at home before going, then cried when she had to go home after she met you jajaja ↳ bff1 i have that effect 😇 ↳ albps9 i still think you're the reason she's no longer shy and innocent 😡 ↳ bff1 you're so welcome!
bff2 My favourite chaotic girls! 🤗
alexiaputellas Go back to being this little @/yourusername 😔 liked by yourusername
yourusername going from sharing plushies to sharing the best moments of my life! ↳ bff2 For a second I was worried you were going to say undies 😭 ↳ bff1 won't fit, my butt's bigger than hers ↳ yourusername no way!! ↳ bff1 to the undies or the butt? ↳ yourusername yes 👼 ↳ bff1 yes to what?? liked by yourusername
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tagged: yourusername bff2: Watch out world, she’s coming for you. Now stronger than ever! ❤️ Liked by marisabel_rguez, bff3, albaps9 and 123 others
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yourusername ❤️ ↳ bff2 ❤️ ↳ bff3 ❤️ ↳ bff1 ❤️
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marisabel_rguez: Going to make Sevilla unsafe 😛 Liked by sofie.svava, frejaolofssonn, marialeonn16 and 12,493 others
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sofie.svava and unsafe we made it! ↳ marisabel_rguez 😉
carolinemoller_ My bank account is still weeping 🤪
atheeneeaa_10 Girls! 💜
username1 i miss yn in here liked by 12 others
claudia.zornoza 😍
carolineweir95 Missing you all!
username2 Is it me or is misa really inactive lately, she's changed ↳ username3 Not just you ): ↳ username2 And her game has been so off lately, ngl
haleyraso You better return to us all smiley again after this trip!!! 😤
frejaolofssonn hey who's that one in the back? she's looking goooood. liked by marisabel_rguez
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yourusername: i guess i'm back. (well, i'll try to stick around) Liked by marialeonn16, alexiaputellas, esmeebrugts and 3,489 others
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username1 we missed you!!!!!!
ingridengen ig's not the same without our princesa 🤩
username2 Hello againnnn
bff1 two/three whole months? without posting? record. but i missed you. ↳ yourusername i missed me too ☹️ ↳ bff1 😘
ona.battle Now we had you all to ourselves for a little while 😝 ↳ salmaparalluelo whoop whoop 🙌 liked by yourusername
albaps9 eyes on the road, chica, or have you forgotten when you messed up your foot while biking to school??? liked by alexiaputellas ↳ alexiaputellas The one day she had to go alone and boom 😆 ↳ yourusername so nice to see you making fun of my messed up and bloodied foot. it really hurt and i was alone and panicking and had to bike back home in pain 😔 ↳ ablaps9 i mean, i'm sorry for laughing but WHO the hell wears chanclas while biking? WHO?! a safety hazard!! ↳ alexiaputellas An eight year old 🤷‍♀️ ↳ yourusername they were my favourite pair of havaianas, i wanted to look cute 😞 ↳ albaps9 mom was right to whoop your ass with them later ↳ alexiaputellas At least now you have a cool scar 😎
bff3 Good to have you back, babe! Ps, you left your sweatshirt at our place. ❤️ ↳ yourusername keep it company for me until tuesday <3 ↳ bff1 just don't go and cook a curry with it on, like last time ↳ bff3 If you hadn't turned the stove higher behind my back, none of it would've splattered! ↳ bff1 didn't want it to take an hour longer. i was hungry. ↳ bff3 Well, not going to wear it while cooking. It's the green adidas one, btw, your favourite, so I wouldn't dare. ↳ yourusername ahh. well, i think green's your colour anyway, keep it 😘
username3 Welcome back 👋
username4 FINALLY
username5 now misa has to come back too 🤞 ↳ username4 Here's to hoping this post will do just that
username4 no more misa/yn interactions? this girlie is very sad ↳ username1 Don't think that's happening anymore 😪 ↳ username5 yeah, between the radio silence, stories and off-behaviour, i don't think so either ↳ username3 well, that doesn't have to be bc of misa? ↳ username6 no u-haul? 😢 ↳ username1 No U-haul.
begovargas Loved spending time with you. We should do it again soon 😌 ↳ yourusername I'm so down!! Miss you already! 🫶
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a/n to anyone reading this, i hope you have a lovely day. 🌼🥰
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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 months
Text
The Cherry on Top [Hotch x Reader]
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Photo credits: Center Left (@bau-bitch02) (@agentdilfhotchner) Right (@thyme-in-a-bubble)
Prompt: When the reader gets drugged on a case, she inadvertently tells Aaron about all the dreams she’s had with him. He then has to decide how he’s going to move forward with information that leaves him needy and wanting of the reader. 
Pairing: Aaron x fem!BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 
Category: angst/smutt
Word Count: 16.7K 
A/N: Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. Content Warnings are below the cut. Here is another fic based on the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins January/February Writing Challenge. The prompt this was based on was “Characters decide to try something new in the bedroom.” I wrote this fic specifically for my friend @tgskitten who always gives me such encouragement! ILY. I also want to shout out @silk-spun for reading all my snippets and hyping me up SO MUCH! This is a slow burn to smut and I hope it brings you as much joy as it did me. I had a lot of fun writing the smut scenes and I hope the build-up is worth it (pun intended).  If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading.  Love Levi - ❤️
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Content Warnings:  Death by overdose [victims of unsub], drugging [reader], misogyny/sexism [slight], hospitals, sex [fingering (reader receiving) p in v (Hotch and reader) oral (implied reader)] dom!Aaron/praise kink [slight]. Use of pet names [love. Kitten, my girl]. 
List with all stories 
_y/n_ = your name 
_y/c/e_’s = your color eyes 
_c/t_ = coffee or tea 
_y/c/e_ = your color eyes 
_y/l/n_ = your last name 
_y/h/t_ = your hair type
_y/f/c_ = your favorite color 
Aaron had been on over a hundred cases at this point in his career. He thought he had seen just about everything there was to see on a case. That was until the BAU headed out to New York City for the new case. In a city of 8.4 million, something big had to happen to get the attention of the massive police force or other authorities in the City that Never Sleeps. The eclectic death of eight people due to an ecstasy overdose in the dance club scene in the Bronx was strange enough to have the NYPD baffled and get the BAU involved. With over fifteen clubs covering the area, the police and other local law enforcement did their best to canvas the area, but had yet to find anyone. Similarly, finding the distributor of the drug was just as difficult for the New York Drug Enforcement Task Force due to the large amount so illegal uppers and downers that were handed out, bought, or stolen in the club scene every week. The team had debriefed the case in the conference room, gone over the lengthy victim’s list, and boarded the jet. During the short hour-long flight, the team tried to throw as much out on the table as possible. JJ and Emily were looking at the victims to see if there were any connections. Rossi and Aaron were thinking about priors while Emily thought about the varieties that the profile was showing and trying to cut any unnecessary leads or possibilities. Lastly, Spencer and _y/n_, the newest addition to the team, were looking at a map of the area where the attacks had taken place so far. The young duo also looked at similar clubs in that borough to see if there were connections in the locations. The pattern seemed to be that the first three attacks had happened in a cluster at the center of the club scene moving outward. There had been only one death at each club so far. Whether this pattern would hold was unknown, but so far it seemed like the unsub was staying consistent. Therefore, Spence and _y/n_ tried to think of the best place to canvas first. The duo debated the size of the clubs, the atmosphere, and the pricing to get into each establishment. They needed to narrow down the choices to four clubs so that the team not waste any time once they landed. The team tossed the proverbial ball around the cabin of the jet. Whenever any of the small groups needed a fresh perspective they would ask the other members of the team for their perspectives. This was one of the things that _y/n_ loved about the team. There was a fierce focus on each of the subgroups, but when help was needed or an important fact was noted, it was shared with the group. This way the team was up to date with everyone. The communication with the team always kept _y/n_ on her toes. It was like watching a basketball change hands midway across the court. One such example was when JJ said, “Just a reminder that the last two victims were underage. Jessica was nineteen and Lina-Lee was eighteen-years-old. Aaron and _y/n_ looked over the JJ and both said, “Got it.” Though it might seem like a curt response, there wasn’t time for extra words or thank you’s at the beginning of a case. At the start of a case, it was all thinking caps and coming up with a practical plan. That being said, the information was useful to both groups. Aaron turned to Rossi and softly said, “So the unsub doesn’t care about age. They’ve killed people ranging from eighteen to thirty-one. Rossi nodded and stated, “So it’s less likely that these killings are meant to target any certain group. Revenge becomes less of a factor and psychopathic tendencies are more likely.” “Right,” Hotch said as he added two more names of previous killers that better matched the new information. Similarly, _y/n_ and Reid started to look at clubs that seemed to have a reputation for letting in those who were below twenty-one. 
_y/n_took a moment to look over the team. She was still surprised that she was here. Her hard work and dedication in the academy, plus an extensive amount of research on the BAU and criminal behavior had gotten her here. It didn’t hurt that Director Strauss had suggested to Aaron that he, Rossi, and the whole team find someone new to train after Gideon’s abrupt departure. She didn’t want the team to be caught off guard like that again. Like most things, Aaron was hesitant about the idea. However, he realized the practical need for what he had called, long before _y/n_ joined the team, a “spare” member. Hotch knew that sounded callous, but the dynamic of such a tight-knit group could so easily be tipped off balance by the edition of someone new. Because of this, he was less than enthusiastic. Nonetheless, some soul needed to be chosen. When word got out that the BAU might be looking to expand, the transfer requests came tumbling in. Hotch, JJ, and Rossi all looked over the files. Any of the agents were already well up the FBI ladder. Aaron said no instantly. “Too big personalities,” he’d said. There there hundreds of underqualified individuals. Rossi said no to those too. After a week of the search, JJ said in desperation, “Why not pick a N.A.T or a probie? I don’t think either of you is going to find what you want in these candidates. Hotch had balked at the idea, but Rossi, on the other hand, said, “Listen, it’s not a bad idea. We could build them from the ground up.” Hotch ran a hand through his hair and said, “We’re talking about a person here, Dave, not a dog.” Rossi shrugged and said, “Well I don’t think it’s a bad idea. Who was the one N.A.T. who had the gall to ask about the position?” J.J. handed over the file which Dave looked over. Aaron wasn’t convinced to try anything so unorthodox until he’d had about a half dozen failed interviews with other, older options. Finally, Aaron had given up and went with Rossi to watch the N.A.T.s during an exercise. _y/n_ had stood out clearly as having street smarts and practical know-how on the test case. When Rossi asked the instructor about her. It turned out _y/n_ had been the N.A.T. who had inquired about the position. Of course, the BAU hadn’t replied to her inquiry about the team, it would be bad form, but now that they were there, it didn’t seem like the craziest thing possible. After that, _y/n_ was kept under close observation by the BAU without her knowing. When the last month of the course came around, Aaron asked to meet with _y/n_. That conversation and what he was potentially offering her was the most stressful thing _y/n_ had ever been through. And when _y/n_ graduated near the top of her class, she got the placement of a lifetime, of a million lifetimes. There was praise and bitterness from her classmates, and _y/n_ took both in stride. 
_y/n_ moved her eyes back to the map, as she almost got caught looking at Aaron for too long. It was hard for _y/n_ to believe that that had been over a year and three months ago that she joined the team. She had grown a great deal since then, but _y/n_ was aware that she still had growing to do. She was on the most accomplished team in the FBI. She’d be learning for the rest of her life from the team. Even though _y/n_ had been on the team for some time, she still stayed a bit reserved. In some ways, she doubted herself and considered that she might be removed if she made a big enough mistake. She also was aware of the dynamics of the team. She didn’t want to ruin what they had. Even so, _y/n_ had slowly integrated into the team. Learning s about each member. _y/n_ found herself drawn to Rossi, Emily, and Aaron most. There was something about their stoicism that resonated with her. Perhaps it was because they stayed the most quiet like her. That didn’t mean that _y/n_ didn’t want to know about them, in fact, it made the trio more interesting by their nebulous nature. _y/n_ was most interested in Aaron’s mercurial nature. He seemed to shift from hot to cold in an instant. But he was the best reader of emotions she’d ever seen. He seemed to know what she and the team were thinking even before they thought it themselves. _y/n_ knew, this was why he was the leader. Because he was so good at profiling people. _y/n_ tried to stay away from him, even a year later. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t interested, or more than slightly infatuated with him. However, _y/n_ had seen far prettier and talented women throw themselves at him and fail. She was not going to be one of them. _y/n_ felt a warm set of eyes on her form. She looked up ever so slightly to find Aaron’s brown eyes looking back at her. _y/n_ felt that flustered, stomach-tangled-in-knots type of feel that she had to walk out. _y/n_ cleared her throat and told Reid, “Gonna grab a c/t_, Spence? You want one?” Spencer smiled and said, “Sure, thanks.” _y/n_ stood, to get the drinks. She made sure to add, “I’ll put about five hundred sugars in yours.” Spencer let out a laugh and said, “Hey, Morgan gets to tease me about the sugar thing, but you put sugar is yours too.” _y/n_ rolled her eyes with a soft chuckle and moved to the back of the plane. 
Hotch followed _y/n_ with his gaze. He had doubted the idea of having someone so inexperienced on the team. As it turned out, _y/n_ absorbed information like a sponge. Not only that, but she was willing to take critiques and grow from them. And heaven knew the first few months were filled with corrections and critiques. A weaker person would have dropped out. _y/n_ hadn’t. He had garnered respect for her for that. Not only respect but some admiration, as _y/n_ threw herself head in on cases that even the team was turned off by. Her sense of moral right and wrong seemed unshakable. It was rare to see that in a new agent. He wondered what had defined her code of ethics to such an extreme. In time, he hoped she would tell him. Aaron suspected that as quiet as _y/n_ was, she had picked up a lot about the team. Her silent observations he caught her in sometimes were both respectful and thoughtful. She never stared at anyone too long. But when she looked, she really looked. Like she was trying to solve some complex puzzle. And what was more complex than the BAU? Aaron couldn’t deny that when he felt her _y/c/e_s gaze on him, it didn’t elicit something in him. That hadn’t been something he’d felt originally, but it, whatever it was, had grown with time. The small or big feelings both Aaron and _y/n_ were harboring for each other would be blown wide open on Friday night. 
The plane landed in NCY, and the team was instantly hit with five o’clock rush hour traffic. It took them a decent forty minutes to get to the precinct in the Bronx. It was Wednesday, and so far the murders had happened on consecutive weekends starting on Thursday to Sunday. If the pattern held, this would give the team one day to canvas the clubs before the weekend when another attack might occur. When the BAU did arrive at the station, they were met the the large hustle and bustle and chaotic energy. The precinct was so big it had little mini departments in the space, and for once there was room for the BAU to spread out and work without feeling cramped or in the way. _y/n_ looked around slightly overwhelmed. This was one thing that Aaron had noticed about _y/n_. When things were incredibly hectic he could see _y/n_ trying to overprocess everything at the same time. Hotch knew that not everyone was Reid, Not everyone could just take everything in all the time. Due to this, Hotch stepped closer to _y/n_. Whenever he did this, it seemed to ground her. He could tell that she paid more attention to him than her other surroundings when he was nearby. He would stick around _y/n_ until she had calmed down and the new environment became more relaxed. He didn’t do this to baby her. It was like when he told Morgan to calm down or Reid to stay on topic. He understood his team needed guidance and help now and then, and he was there to provide it. However, Hotch was not so stupid to not understand the effect he had on _y/n_. But that, like his growing feelings for _y/n_ was something he ignored. He knew that if he gave into those desires for his newest agent, he’d be like a man starved of affection. That was because he was a man starved of affection and he didn’t think _y/n_ needed that in her life right now. Once the team was in the room the department had given them, Hotch said, “Morgan can you close the door?.” As he said this, _y/n_ felt him move to her left. _y/n_ took in a very small, hopefully unnoticeable breath. The fact that _y/n_ was so drawn to her boss was concerning. But he seemed to get her better than some of the other members of the team. He always seemed to know when she needed a hand or a moment to decompress. _y/n_ appreciated this because she had been so unsure of her at the start of her journey at the BAU. How he acted around her now reassured her that he had some level of trust in her performance and contributions to the team. She had worked her butt off to get to this place and it was affirming to know it was paying off. _y/n_ took one second as the very slight scent of Aaron’s cologne drifted her way, as he set his file on the table near her. _y/n_ considered how Aaron’s affirmation was probably part of what made Hotch so attractive, She such little of that in her daily life that any was lapped up with a greedy desire. Albeit very much under the surface. _y/n_ would never say how even the hint of subtle praise from him made her knees weak. There was no time to interrogate that thought as Hotch said, “Alright, we need to put all our facts together, build a sketch of a profile, and then get a plan in place for the rest of the day. Everyone nodded along and started getting ready for a second debrief that normally happened once the team landed. 
A half-hour later, after starting a profile, the teams split up into smaller groups. Aaron and JJ were heading to see the families of the victims to see if they could gather more about the victimology and build out the profile that way. _y/n_ and Derek were headed to the bars where the first four deaths had happened. They hoped to see if there were any details the police had missed and profile the staff at each establishment. Lastly, Emily and Spencer were headed to the hospital for more details from the coroners. Hotch and Em’s group took cars, but _y/n_ and Derek decided to walk as the nearest club was about a twenty-minute stroll away, and taking a car would just waste time. The first two clubs gleaned little information as the first two victims hadn’t died on the property's premises. The first had died at her girlfriend's house, and the second had passed in his parent's house. Both were found deceased the next morning. However, the third victim had died in the parking lot of the club she had been dancing in. The team expected that the dosage of drugs was increased for a faster death. Where the first two clubs had let _y/n_ and Morgan in easily, answered all of their questions,  and showed remorse at the deaths that had happened, the third club, Club Rio, held a different atmosphere. The bouncer, a big burly man sighed once he saw the two professionals and asked, “Cops, Reporters, or others?” Morgan stepped forward saying, “FBI.” _y/n_ and Derek flashed their badges and the man’s eyes went wide in surprise for a second. He sighed and said, “Well at least it’s something different. Dan is getting annoyed by all the feds.” The man stepped aside and let them both into the building. As _y/n_ passed the man, she asked, “And Dan is?” The man replied to her back, “Owner.” _y/n_ nodded and followed Derek into the den. 
_y/n_ was always surprised by just how small some club spaces were. The dance floor was just a small square with tables and couches in raised areas around the stage and a sunken floor. _y/n_ reflected that when she had been in her clubbing days, she had been inebriated, the writhing bodies around her had seemed normal and comforting even. Being surrounded on all sides, the other bodies had been like a buffer from the rest of the world and the loud music. Now that this case had come up, _y/n_ realized how vulnerable she had been on those occasions. How easy it could have been to take advantage of her, even if she thought he was being safe. With that somber thought, the duo approached the bar. The barista mixed drinks for the four early patrons. She looked at them and asked, “How can I help you?” Derek replied, “We need to speak to the manager or Dan if he’s here?” The bartender said, “Okay, give me a minute, Dan’s in the office upstairs.” It was clear the woman was so used to grabbing the owner at this point that she didn’t even ask to see any credentials. She slipped out from behind the bar, opened a door, and walked up a set of narrow stairs. Morgan leaned against the bar and looked over the space. _y/n_ was doing the same and a bright pink poster on the wall caught her attention. She moved over to it and realized it was outdated. It was from the night that the third victim had been found dead. It was an advert for A Barbie-themed night at the club. The poster didn’t match the dark interior at all. That was why it had stuck out. All the other posters were also for themed nights in the past and future. Rave Night, Emo Night, 00’s Night. Something clicked in _y/n_’s brain as she realized there might be another pattern here. Before _y/n_ could say anything, a lean, scrawny man emerged from the door with the barista. The man approached Derek and said, “What other questions could you possibly ask me that everyone else hasn’t already?” _y/n_ watched Morgan shift his weight from one foot to the other trying to decide if he should be stern or just take the flippant tone. As usual, Morgan just took it, through _y/n_ knew if pushed too hard, Derek could be provoked into a reaction. Morgan just said, “I’d like a list of patrons ID’d for the night that Sandra Klare passed.” Dan stilled, knowing that they didn’t card, saying, “Well our card reader is down right now. It might be a few days for us to get back to you, Mr…” “Morgan,” Derek offered. _y/n_ had moved closer to the pair and said, “That’s okay, just send it to us as soon as you can. You could also send over the security camera footage from inside the building and any from the back or parking lot.” Dan’s eyes snapped over to _y/n_ and then they took a far too long looking her over. His eyes rested on her chest as he stated, “Sure, I can get you those tapes, along with a drink if you want, miss…” _y/n_ cut him off and said, “It’s Agent, and I don’t drink of the job. Now tell me, how many minors do you think you let in every night because it’s clear to me that you're not carding which is a violation of state law.” Dan’s eyes snapped back up to her face, and he replied snappily, “You have no proof of that.” Derek scoffed and said, “Great, then you’ll have those ID lists over today. Now if you’d show us the spot where the victim was found, we’d appreciate it.” The next half hour was a bit tense and Dan glared at the FBI agents who looked over the space with a calculated eye. 
When the team regrouped, everyone shared. JJ and Aaron had discovered that all of the victims had been mostly wallflowers. Kids and adults who kept to the background and wouldn’t normally be found in a club. Some of the parents and friends of the victims were shocked to find out those closest to them had died at or near a club. None of the victims had taken drugs before to their knowledge. This added a new angle to the type of people that were being targeted. Spencer had found that the dosage of ecstasy had been increased with each case, which was why the first few victims had died at home or outside of the club, and the last few had been in the parking lot or in the club itself. Emily said, “The unsub is escalating their kills. Probably because knowing someone is going to die isn’t enough now, they need to see the chaos that it causes. Morgan and _y/n_ shared last, noting how hesitant the last club was to give information. Derek added that the only places that didn’t seem to have cameras were the restrooms, but in a busy club, someone could get drugged anywhere. It was at this point that _y/n_ shared a theory saying, “I think there might be a pattern with the clubs that the unsub was picking each night.” Hotch looked over at her and said, “What is it?” _y/n_ averted her gaze from his and said, “Themed nights. The day the third victim died was a Barbie-themed night, and the second was an Emo Night I think. That might be why the victims were willing to go to the clubs in the first place. A normal club night might not be appealing to them, but if they were playing music they liked or had something that drew them to the club they might be willing to go.” Hotch nodded and said, “It’s a possibility.” He slipped his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed Garcia. He put her on speaker and when her chipper voice said, “You’ve reached the queen of fun and sparkles, how may I help you today?” Hotch held out the phone, and _y/n_ took it saying, “Penelope, can you get a schedule of themed nights at the clubs in the Bronx? Can it go back two weeks and then up through this weekend as well? Also, see if they match up with the dates of the first eight deaths?” Garcia’s classic long nailed key tapping ensued for a second before the tech said, “Give me one second, baby girl.” There was an anticipatory minute before Garcia said, “And the winner is _y/n_. Every night that a victim has died so far was a night with a club that was hosting a theme of some kind. Those often draw a younger crowd. I’m emailing over this weekend's schedule for the clubs that are hosting theme nights as well.” Hotch nodded and took his phone back, saying, “Thanks, Garcia. You’re the greatest.” The warm reply of “No good Sir, You are the greatest. Garcia out.” The subtle warmth that _y/n_ saw in Aaron’s eyes was rare, but when it was there, _y/n_ wished it would last forever. That he’d look at her with that kind of affection. 
Rossi pulled her from her thoughts when he said, “We’d better give a profile now. If we hurry, we can get to some of the clubs before there’s a huge rush. We’ll need some officers to cover the other clubs that are on Garcia’s list.” Everyone agreed and moved outside to the main part of the precinct. Aaron called for the Chief of Police, Officer Jason. After delivering the profile and making a coordinated plan, the BAU was on the move again. Spencer had calculated the most likely clubs to be hit. Given that Rossi and Aaron were a bit too old to look natural in a club environment, they both decided to stay in support vans near the two clubs the BAU would watch that evening. Meanwhile, Emily, JJ, and _y/n_, and Spence and Derek would all be mic’d up and scout out the two clubs of premium interest. It was simple for Derek and Reid to get ready, just changing into simple t-shirts and jeans. Morgan added a leather jacket over his white shirt. But for the women, it was a bit more of an ordeal. Given that the victims were probably really into the theme nights, they wanted to match the victim's previous behavior. The subsub seemed to target women more, so it was more likely that they would go after Em, JJ, or _y/n_. The club that Prentiss and JJ would be scouting out was having a hippie-themed night, and both women sported bell bottoms. JJ added a headband and Emily found a crochet vest to wear. _y/n_ meanwhile was headed to a rave-themed night and needed a hand getting the complicated top on over her cropped long-sleeved shirt that covered everything that the over-shirt didn’t cover. As Emily tied the last of the bows at the back of _y/n_’s irradiant star top, she asked, “Did y’all ever imagine when you joined the FBI that we’d be playing dress up on a Thursday night?” JJ laughed at the statement and _y/n_ said, “Not that it didn’t cross my mind, I’m just more surprised that this precinct has these clothes on hand. You don’t think they’re from people that have been detained, do you?” Em dropped her hands and looked at _y/n_ when she turned and said, “Who knows? But the NYPD is the biggest police force in the States, maybe they bought them just in case of an occasion like this?.” _y/n__ nodded and looked over her colleagues and had to let out a small laugh saying, “Look at us.” JJ smiled and said, “Look at you _y/n_. You still pass as a college kid.” _y/n_ flushed and said, “Well it’s a blessing and a curse. The owner of one of the clubs today spent all day looking at my tits and ass. It’s not something I love. Gotta love being a woman in the FBI, right?” Em and JJ nodded. They’d all had their share of bad experiences being ogled by cops and citizens alike. The three of them moved out of the locker room they had all changed in. 
Aaron, Rossi, Reid, and Morgan all looked over to them, along with the other plainclothes officers who would be scouting out the other clubs. The policemen were not as good at hiding their reactions at the lady's entrance as the BAU men were. Aaron took a moment to look at his watch to stop the flush on his face from becoming more prominent. He knew _y/n_ was a lovely woman, and her outfit only highlighted that fact. Again he reminded himself of the restraint he needed to have as her boss. He didn’t let his mind go there.  It was 9:30 p.m. and the rush at the clubs was likely to start at 10:00 p.m. Hotch cleared his throat and said, “Alright, let’s head out. Remember, we check in every half hour, and if you see anything suspect, let Rossi or I know.” The agents nodded their agreement to the plan. The two teams split into their vans. Aaron was going to be overlooking Emily and JJ, and Rossi would take Reid, _y/n_, and Derek. Rossi dropped the trio off two blocks from Club Noir so it wasn’t obvious that undercover agents were present and looking over the club. This was _y/n_’s first time in an undercover position and she was thrilled and terrified at the same time. The inside of the club was so loud that the three of them had to scream to indicate which part of the club they would look after for the first half-hour shift. The trio had planned to change places after each check-in with Rossi to make sure they kept up with the flow of traffic and that nothing slipped them by. Derek’s first shift was by the bar, trying to notice if anyone seemed to be slipping drugs into the drinks of the patrons. Spencer was taking the outer perimeter of the club, looking at the groups clustered around tables and talking more leisurely, and _y/n_ took the dance floor. The sea of bodies felt claustrophobic and hot. It was hard to look at what was going on with those dancing. The looks of euphoria on the faces of the dancers who were so absorbed in the music were disturbing. It was hard to tell who might be under the influence of drugs and who wasn’t. _y/n_ strategically moved around the floor to try and get a good look at everyone there. This was hard work, and by the first half-hour check-in, _y/n_ was exhausted. She found her way to the back of the building near the bathrooms where it was less crowded. The team checked in with Rossi with nothing much to say. 
The rest of the night seemed to go well until one a.m. when _y/n_ heard a scream come from the dance floor that pierced above the music. It was Derek’s time on the floor and the music and dancing came to an abrupt halt. By the time the lights were on and _y/n_ made it to the center of the floor there was a small crowd gathered including Spencer. Once _y/n_ saw the young woman on the ground seizing, she called 9-1-1 immediately to report the situation. Reid was talking to Rossi over comms and within moments cops were in the building and cordoning off the area. Derek was trying to get the woman into the recovery position. Meanwhile, _y/n_ was trying to calm the woman who had found the victim. The lady seemed almost as distressed as the woman on the floor. _y/n_ wondered if she was on any substances herself or if this was just shock. _y/n_ leaned down and said, “Hey, hey, I need you to take some deep breaths for me. Just calm down.” The short blond-headed woman nodded and tried to regain her breath. After a few minutes, _y/n_ pulled the woman aside to a cleared area of the club, _y/n_ flashed her badge at the woman and said, “What’s your name? Can you tell me what happened?” The woman sniffled before saying, “I’m Jeanie, King. I was just dancing and I noticed the woman next to me seemed to get agitated. I tried to talk to her but she seemed so absorbed in the music. I thought maybe she was okay, so I kept dancing, but when I looked over at her again she was on the ground. No one else seemed to notice, and a guy almost stepped on her face so I screamed. I didn’t know what else to do.” _y/n_ nodded and said in a reassuring tone, “You probably saved her life.” Though _y/n_ said this with sympathy, she was very weary of the woman in front of her. Jeanie seemed too composed after what she said. Her story too ordered. _y/n_ got the woman a glass of water before moving to help with crowd control as the paramedics and the other half of the BAU arrived. She stepped close to Hotch and he looked down at her asking, “What happened? Did you see anything? Derek and Spencer didn’t seem to pick anything up. _y/n_ sighed and said, “I didn’t see too much apart from the bartenders pouring heavy shots and some guys being handsy. I went to the lady's room a few times but there wasn’t anything suspect going on in there apart from a couple hooking up in one of the stalls.” Hotch nodded but could see that _y/n_ had more to say. He waited for a second before _y/n_ said, “The woman that noticed there was someone in trouble, something about her feels off.” _y/n_ looked over to Ms. King, and Aaron followed her with his eyes. The woman that _y/n_ was looking at was calmly sipping a glass of water, and he could tell why his agent might suspect the woman. Hotch moved his eyes back to _y/n_’s and he said, “Call Garcia and ask her to search the woman’s name. Let’s see if something comes up. We’ll be here all night anyway clearing everyone to go home.” _y/n_ nodded, pulled out her phone, and moved to call Penelope. 
Aaron had been right about how long it was going to take. There were over ninety people in the club and every one of them needed to be searched, questioned, and then let go. Even with a lot of officers involved, it wasn’t until six forty-seven a.m. before everyone had been removed from the club. Three minors had been arrested for underage drinking, and five people were arrested for possession of drugs. One older man had ecstasy, but it was in pill form and not the liquid form that the hospital had identified with with first victims. Everyone was exhausted when they got outside. The scent of liquor lingered on them all, and Hotch said, “Let’s get two hours of sleep and then we’ll debrief after that. He could see the exhaustion in everyone’s eyes, and he felt it in his own. The team silently left the club to the hands of the police officers. As _y/n_ stopped at the door, she turned around. The club, with all of the overhead lights on, looked like the end of a play with all the props and litter still on the stage. The stagehands were too exhausted to pick up any of the trash post the last show. Red Solo Cups and beer bottles dotted the tables and floor. The scene looked sad now. It was hard to believe that hours earlier people had been so careless here. A deep voice called _y/n_, and she turned her head. It was Hotch. He stood in the doorway, bathed in the rising sun. It took a moment for _y/n_ to register that he’d asked if she was okay. _y/n_ shook her head ever so slightly to clear it of the fog and exhaustion before moving toward the team Leader. She tried to smile and said, “I’m fine. Sorry. Just thinking.” Hotch gave a small nod and kept the door open until she was outside and trailing Morgan down the road to the vans. He watched her retreating form. _y/n_ had taken off the potentially revealing top that had caught his eye the moment she had left the changing room with Emily and JJ. She was now wearing a jacket on top of the long-sleeved shirt she was wearing. He had beaten himself up on the van at how captivated he had been when seeing her in such an outfit. He knew he’d ordered her into it and the fact that his restraint was that weak eat at his morality like rust on iron. Hotch often asked himself if he was a good man. And _y/n_ seemed to push that question in a direction he had never considered before. He let the thought drop, and he moved to the van as well. He made sure not to get into the car with _y/n_. He needed a few moments to think without her face or soft voice digging deeper into his psyche. 
The two hours at the hotel were short lived with most members of the team taking a shower and then getting a bite to eat. As the team ambled out of the vans, _y/n_ took a second to stretch her arms and roll her neck, outside the precinct. She didn’t want to seem unprofessional in front of the officers. She didn’t want to seem unprofessional with the team either, but the ache in her arms and neck needed to be alleviated somehow, and she didn’t see anyone ready to give out back rubs at the moment. _y/n_ let out a soft chuckle at the idea and Emily asked, “What are you laughing about?” It wasn’t an accusation by Prentiss. Emily knew that _y/n_ was taking this case as seriously as all of them were. But everyone needed a moment of levity, especially after a new victim had been found. _y/n_ dropped her arms and said, “Oh just thinking about how my clubbing days are way behind me. Dancing for two hours last night was so hard on my feet, I’m gonna be sore for a week at least.” Morgan chipped in saying, “Well at least you looked natural out there. Did you see Reid?” At that, Em, Morgan, JJ, and _y/n_ had a small, good-natured laugh at Spencer’s less-than-coordinated dancing ability. ‘Hey,” Reid said, “It’s not my fault there’s not a good rhythm to that music.” The playful banter subsided as the team moved inside. Hotch was the last to move into the building and for a moment, he felt left out from the ability to just laugh and joke around like the rest of his younger agents. He knew it was stupid, so he let it go like he let most small things go in his life. In the room the team had taken over, the group moved around restlessly talking. Emily said, “Honestly, we could have had a hundred police officers in our club and someone might have still died.” _y/n_ nodded along and said, “Our team had a good system. We were constantly monitoring and checking in and someone still died.” Rossi could hear the frustration in _y/n_’s voice and chipped in, saying, “The problem is, the clubs are the killers hunting ground. Unless the unsub starts killing elsewhere, that is the most consistent thread we have.” Aaron added, “What makes it difficult is the amount of people we have to try and profile, and the fact that the ecstasy is given in liquid form. It could be slipped in someone’s drink, or shot up, or given in a load of other ways and the victim might not know until it’s far too late.” The Chief of Police, who was unhappy with the BAU’s performance so far had joined them and said, “Well we could end this right now by closing the clubs for public safety for a few weeks.” hotch nodded his head no and said, “That’s not going to do any good. If you cut off the unsub's normal pattern they’ll likely move to another space and we’d have to rebuild the profile again. Either that or they just wait until the clubs open up again. Both ways result in the unsub continuing to kill people.” The Chief of Police raised his hands and asked, “Would he just give up after a while?” Morgan looked over to the man and said, “No. This person needs the validation that killing gives them. The feeling of power or control.” Officer Jason sighed and said, “Well what do we do going forward? Tonight’s the busiest night the clubs see, and although a killer is on the loose, people are still flocking to them.” Hotch looked at the man and the with authority he held, replied, “We use the profile. We add the new data, speak to the latest victim, and keep looking. The unsub has to know that we’re onto them, especially after last night. We, or one of your officers likely met them. So they’ll probably change something tonight, or get sloppy. We can add more officers in the clubs which will push them even further.” Jason nodded and said, “Won’t that mean that it’s more likely that someone dies?” Aaron nodded but said, “It is, but that’s why my team is here. To make sure that doesn’t happen again.” 
The rest of the day passed by slowly. Spencer and _y/n_ went to the hospital to see McKensie, the latest victim. The pair were led to the back of the hospital. The woman had previously been in restraints but had settled down after receiving specialized care by the hospital staff. _y/n_ sat down next to her bedside and said, “McKensie, can you tell me what you remember from last night?” The woman turned her eyes to _y/n_ and Reid and said, “I don’t remember a lot. I didn’t take anything intentionally I swear. I just like the music they play on rave night. I just felt hot all of a sudden and the lights started acting funny and I got so hot. Before I knew it, I was on the ground and I couldn’t move.” McKenzie closed her eyes before saying, “My mom’s gonna kill me when she finds out what happened.” _y/n_ smiled sympathetically and said, “I’m sure she’ll understand. Thank you for speaking with us, McKensie.” Spencer stepped forward and set his card on the table saying, “If you remember anything else, please give us a call.” The woman nodded and the pair left the room. Outside of the hospital, Spencer asked, “Why would you keep going back to a place where you know you might die? Why take the risk?” _y/n_ looked at Reid. What she was thinking might rub against his problems with drugs, and she was hesitant to speak her mind. Reid could sense this and he said, “You can say what you’re thinking you know? I see you hold back sometimes on the jet or a case. But your thoughts are useful, or at least they let us think about things from a new angle.” _y/n_ looked at him and replied, “Thanks for telling me that Spencer. What I was thinking was that whenever anyone takes drugs it’s putting their lives on the line. That risk is worth it to them until they realize what it might mean. I understand that feeling. It’s just terrible that that choice was stripped from the victims.” Reid nodded and said, “Do you think the unsub is a user?” _y/n_ shrugged and said, “I don’t know. If they’re as calculated as we think they are, then I don’t think they can be.” Spencer nodded and they kept talking about the case until they arrived back at the precinct. 
The sun dipped below the tall buildings. and the team got ready to go out again. Penelope had developed a new list and Aaron hoped that the unsub wasn’t going to change their pattern now. He did decide to change who was with whom in each club. The team was canvasing two clubs like last night. One was bigger and the other was smaller. Aaron assigned JJ, Derek, and Spencer to the bigger club with Rossi. He, Emily, and _y/n_ would take the smaller club. Rossi suggested that he and Aaron also go inside the club with the team. Dave said, “Listen, if there are already going to be lots of officers in uniform there we might as well be there too.” Hotch couldn’t argue that logic and agreed. He knew that he and Dave would be more useful to the team inside than out. Because everyone was going in, they all took a few minutes to get dressed. Everyone was a bit more reserved that night. The themes were Disco night and Emo night, so all it took was bright or dark colors. The team was more somber this time, especially _y/n_. The prospect of going undercover again just didn’t have the same rush as last night. Aaron, Emily, and _y/n_ all entered Club Drake at staggered times. Aaron decided to get to the highest spot he could that would give him the best look over the space. He found a dark corner and leaned back with a beer in his hands that would never get touched. Emily took the first shift at the bar and _y/n_ moved onto the dance floor. Everyone looked for anything that matched the profile. Someone young and confident. Someone looking to prey on those that showed vulnerability or stayed in the background. The strobe lights overhead made it hard for _y/n_ to see much else than the pulsing bodies around her. If _y/n_ looked hard, she could see Aaron in the corner of her eye, but she avoided her gaze because it was hard enough to dance and look for odd behavior while also dancing and not looking like her body was aching from the effort. Meanwhile, Hotch watched from above. He could see the club almost in its entirety. He understood now how hard it had been for his team last night. No wonder they hadn’t been able to see much. Aaron tried to pinpoint his members in the swell below. He could find Emily easily, she was hanging around the bar and hallway to the bathroom. It was harder to pinpoint _y/n_ on the dancefloor, but when the light was slightly brighter between songs, he caught a flash of her moving her body to a beat so loud it hurt his ears. He could see she was talking to someone on the floor, but there was no humanly possible way for him to hear the conversation. The song changed and a man seemed to approach _y/n_ She seemed to nod and then they began dancing to the new song close together. Closer together than she needed to. Hotch had to drag his eyes away. He knew _y/n_ knew what she was doing, but seeing her so close to so many people put a pit in his gut that he felt when things were stressful. It didn’t help with his heightened feelings for _y/n_. But he had a job to do, and he was going to do it to the best of his ability and no unwanted feelings were going to get in the way of that. 
The night continued on and on with Emily and _y/n_ changing roles twice and Hotch brushing off a few people asking him if he wanted a drink above the din of the music. They continued to check in with each other. Despite their careful watch, no one stood out to the team or the police officers who had been briefed on what to look for. _y/n_ moved from the floor to the bar. To look convincing, _y/n_ went to grab and drink. When she got to the front of the line, _y/n_ quickly scanned those sitting and watching the football game and the hallway to the bathroom. She had passed Emily as they swapped roles and Prentiss nodded her head no, indicating that she hadn’t seen anything. _y/n_ returned the gesture. _y/n_ snapped to the present when the bartender said, “What do you want sweetheart apart from standing there in a daze?” _y/n_ cleared her throat and said, “A tonic with cranberry juice, please.” The man nodded and grabbed a tall glass, filling it with ice. The man sitting at the bar said, “You not drinking tonight, babe? You should lighten up or something.” _y/n_ shot him a frown but an oddly familiar voice said, “He’s right you know. You looked just as fake on the floor today as you were last night.” _y/n_ whipped her head around to try and find who had spoken to her. It was hard to tell with the crowd, but a short blond-haired woman was moving quickly toward the back exit and _y/n_ swiftly wove her way between those waiting in line and those dancing. Agent _y/n_ stumbled out of the exit almost out of breath. She looked down the dark alleyway but saw no one. But who she was looking for was behind the door, and when the heavy metal door swung closed, _y/n_ found this out. Jeanie, who had found McKensie yesterday said, “You do need to loosen up, Agent,” as she stepped forward and plunged a needle into _y/n_’s neck. The move had happened so quickly that _y/n_ took a second to push the woman away from her and pull the needle out of her neck. _y/n_’s eyes flashed to the empty syringe and then to Jeanie. She tried to move forward, but the ground seemed to sway a bit. _y/n_ looked at the unsub and said, “What did you give me?” Jeanie smiled maliciously and said, “Well nothing that bad yet. Just relax a bit and I’ll give you something really fun in a minute. _y/n_ tried to get away but fell over her feet and onto the pavement. The world was spinning and once she was on the ground, she tried to pull for her coms. The unsub watched as _y/n_ helplessly and openly took out a mic from her shirt. The woman leaned down and stomped on the device, smashing it to smithereens. _y/n_ watched helplessly as Jeanie pulled something from an inner pocket and said, “I think we’re going to have some real fun tonight.” 
Inside the club, Aaron had lost track of _y/n_ when she and Emily had switched places. He didn’t see her anywhere and it was starting to bother him, but it was only five minutes until they would check in and he was sure she was just checking the lady's room or something. He continued to look around until his watch hit 12:30 a.m. He switched on his coms and checked in with Prentiss. He could see her look up at him for a second from the side of the bar. She said, “Still nothing. At least it’s not so busy right now.” Hotch nodded and said, “Okay, well keep a look out. I haven’t seen anything from here either.” He took a breath and said, “Have you seen _y/n_? I lost her a few minutes ago at the bar.” There was a second of static before Emily said, “I don’t see her. Have you tried her com?” Emily was looking at him now from down below and he shook his head no. Aaron switched to _y/n_’s channel and he asked, “_y/n_, are you there?” There was only static. Hotch tried twice more, but there was still nothing. _y/n_ wasn’t one to miss a check-in. Even though there was no direct reason to panic yet, the bad feeling Hotch radioed Em again asking, “Could you check the lady's room? She’s not answering.” Emily shot him a nod and moved toward the bathroom. Hotch continued to scan the area with no luck in finding _y/n_. Aaron now kept his eyes trained on the hallway to the bathroom hoping that _y/n_ would emerge with Emily. Maybe even with that small smile, she gave him on the rare occasion when she knew no one was looking at her but him. That wasn’t the case, however. Five minutes later, Prentiss returned alone and said over the radio. “She wasn’t in there Hotch. I don’t know where she would have gone without telling us.” Aaron clenched his jaw and looked over the dance floor again. Something seemed to be off in the center of the floor. 
Amid all the dancing people a lone figure, a familiar figure stood transfixed, looking at the lights coming from the ceiling. “Aaron called Emily and said, “I found her, but something’s wrong. She’s in the middle of the floor, but she’s not moving. See if you can get to her. I’m coming down.” Hotch moved as quickly as he could away from the corner and down the stairs without causing a scene or a panic. Hotch and Em got to _y/n_ about the same time. It was clear to both of the agents that something was wrong with _y/n_ immediately. _y/n_ was swaying to the deafening music. Aaron moved to face her and noticed the glassy blown-out pupils along with the profuse amount of sweat pouring from her face. Emily shouted, “_y/n_. What happened?” _y/n_ lazily turned her face toward her colleague and said, “I don’t know. Don’t you see the colors, though? So pretty.” Aaron knew that _y/n_ was in a world of her own now. If _y/n_ had been drugged with ecstasy what she was seeing or hearing was nothing like what he and Emily were. _y/n_ pulled at the neckline of her shirt and said, “Why’s it so hot in here?” Hotch could barely hear her above the noise. When _y/n_ swayed forward on her feet and toward him, he caught her in his arms. She was slick with sweat and he half lead, half dragged his agent to the side of the floor. Many of the patrons were looking at them now. The people at the edge of the floor made space for Hotch to lay _y/n_ down. She was panting now and Aaron called out to Emily saying, “Get every cop in here to not let anyone go. Call an ambulance and stop the music as fast as you can.” Emily nodded and ran away toward the first officer she saw. Hotch didn’t pay much attention to anything else as he focused solely on _y/n_ She was coughing now and her breath was coming in too fast for her to get proper oxygenation. Hotch called to a concerned-looking onlooker to hold down _y/n_’s arms and another to hold her legs. He said it with such authority that neither people he enlisted could refuse him. Once _y/n_ was held still from thrashing around, he took hold of her head and made sure her mouth was open to breathe better. During the chaos, the lights turned on and the music stopped. There was chatter and movement from nearby, but Aaron couldn’t afford to notice it. Emily was back at his side and said, “Ambulance is on the way. ETA five minutes.” Hotch nodded and replied, “Good. Get someone to bring over a bucket of ice. She‘s overheating and we’ve got to get her temperature down.” Prentiss nodded and ran off again. Aaron wiped away a strand of drool from her mouth and said, “Hold on, _y/n_. Just hold on a few minutes more.” By the time a bartender came with ice, _y/n_ seemed so far away from him. Emily asked, concerned, “Where do you want the ice, Hotch.” Aaron took a breath and said, “Pour it over her chest, groin, and neck. Let’s hope it cools her down. All he could do now was wait for the ambulance to arrive. That took what felt like hours. Hotch was grateful that Emily was there to control the flow of traffic, and equally grateful when the rest of the team arrived. 
When the paramedics arrived, Aaron allowed himself to lean forward for a second into the pool of ice water that had melted off of _y/n_’s overheated body. He only allowed himself a second thought as he, Derek, and Emily followed the stretcher holding _y/n_ out and toward the waiting ambulance. One of the paramedics asked, “What’s happened to her? Is this another one of those druggings?” Aaron nodded his head and replied, “I believe so. She was out of it when I found her and struggling to breathe.” The paramedic nodded and said, “It could be an overdose depending on how much she was given.” The two men efficiently lifted the stretcher into the transport vehicle and Hotch asked, “May I ride with her? I’m a federal agent and so is she?” He flashed his badge, and the man he was talking to nodded saying, “You can take the crash seat, just stay back while we work.” Aaron agreed and watched with concern as the doors to the ambulance were closed and it started to move. _y/n_ was manipulated like a doll as an oxygen mask was put over her face. Hotch looked at the metal floor as the medic cut open her shirt to place a cooling blanket over her chest. It wasn’t a long ride to the hospital and that, Hotch was grateful for. They took _y/n_ back into the ER while he moved to the front of the hospital. He called the team and gave them the update, and he asked for the same. Rossi replied, “We have everyone from the club still here and we’re looking over everyone, but Reid and Em want to wait with you. Would it be alright to get more officers over here and let them go?’ Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “Yeah. That’s fine. The one positive thing about this is that she saw the unsub. That’s if she makes it out of this and if she has any memory of what happened before she was drugged.” Dave heard the soft desperation in Hotch’s voice. He wasn’t surprised. He’d seen Aaron’s slow transformation around _y/n_ over the last year. It wasn’t surprising to him that an event like this would pull out Aaron’s proactive instincts. To reassure his friend, Rossi said, “I’m sure she’ll be fine, Aaron. She’s a tough one, just give it time.” Hotch let out a sigh but knew Rossi was right. He wrapped up the call and then moved inside for the vigil that would last until someone from the hospital gave him news or Spencer and Prentiss arrived. He checked his phone and saw missed calls from Garcia, and a text from JJ saying that she was headed over as well. Aaron ignored these things for just a moment and sat with the anxiety that _y/n_ being targeted had done to him. He’d have to face the feelings eventually and he figured he might as well start on them now. 
The time passed, and the team members who could come and sit with him did. To keep his mind from wandering, he spoke with the team about the case and how they could update the profile now that one of them had been drugged. It was Spencer who mostly answered his questions and even took some notes. Even with that being the case, Hotch couldn’t keep pretending and he and Reid lapsed into silence. Another half hour later, a doctor appeared. The group stood up and approached the man. The doctor’s name tag read. Dr. Piatte. The man held a clipboard in front of him and he said, “The patient, Ms. _y/l/n_ is almost stabilized now. She was given a pretty high dose of ecstasy for her size along with another depressant. Now that her vitals, temperature, and breathing have all leveled out, all we can do is make sure she’s comfortable until the drugs leave her system. Everyone nodded and Aaron asked, “Is she awake? Could someone sit with her while she’s detoxing?” Dr. Piatte looked at him and said, “Ms. _y/l/n_ is conscious, but not lucid. She’s said a few words here and there, but none of it has made much sense. If you’re hoping to talk to her, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Hotch shook his head no and replied, “I’m not interested in getting answers for anything. I was just wondering if one of us might sit with her. To keep her company. Maybe she would be more relaxed if one of us was there.” The greying man thought for a second, before saying, “I don’t mind if one of you sits with her. Just don’t excite her and only one of you can be in her room. She’s in a highly suggestible state mentally and she needs as much peace as possible.” The team understood and Emily, JJ, and Spencer looked at Hotch, understanding that he wanted to be with _y/n_ but not sure how to say that. JJ broke the silence by saying, “Why don’t you sit with her, Hotch? The rest of us can go back to the club and help the others out. We’ll send you updates about over there, and you can keep us informed about anything that happens here?” Hotch nodded and replied, “Okay, thanks JJ. Is that alright with you Em, Reid?” Both agents nodded their heads. Aaron bowed his head for a second before saying, “Thank you. I’ll send you an updates regarding _y/n_. With that conversation, Aaron followed the doctor back to _y/n_’s room. He realized that he was being overly protective of _y/n_ and that the team might have noticed it, but he didn’t have the energy to worry about that right now. JJ had thankfully saved any awkwardness in that area and he reminded himself that he’d have to thank her once they were back home. He’d need to thank the whole team for their hard work. Anytime one of the team got hurt on a case, he was reminded how dedicated everyone was, and he needed to highlight that more often. But for now, he only had a mind for _y/n_. When he stepped into the hospital room, Aaron’s eye fell on _y/n_. Her face was still flushed and the closer he got to her bedside, the more he realized how uncomfortable she still might be, even now that she was in a hospital bed and on Benzodiazepines. He watched as _y/n_’s eyes traced patterns on the ceiling where none were to be found. Similarly, _y/n_’s hands tapped out a rhythm that he couldn’t hear, some music only accessible in the recesses for her drudged mind. Hotch sat down and contemplated just how vulnerable _y/n_ looked. He’d never seen her this way before and it made him uncomfortable in the way that he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Like watching a car crash. But this was less than the crash and more of watching the fire slowly die down to a more relaxed state. As the minutes ticked by, _y/n_ seemed to relax and so did he. 
An hour later, Aaron had almost fallen into a half-sleep, when _y/n_’s body jerked slightly and she made a sound that Hotch couldn’t quite identify. He watched as _y/n_continued to move in the bed softly and her hands gripped the sheets in a way that he thought might be indicative of discomfort. Aaron got up to get a nurse to see if _y/n_ needed help, but when she called out his name in a breathy half-sigh half-moan, he stopped in his tracks. When _y/n_ said, “Don’t stop, God don’t stop, Aaron,” Hotch turned on his heel and looked at _y/n_ from a distance. He noticed now the rhythm of her hips moved in a way that might indicate an intimate moment was happening. _y/n_’s expression which he had taken as pain at first was full of ecstasy, and not the drug that had been pushed on her. He watched as her breath picked up and her body moved until finally, she let out a soft cry, with her body shaking for a moment and then collapsing fully back on the bed. When _y/n_’s body was flushed with the bed and she had caught her breath after what had been an apparent climax in her dream, she said, “So good, Aaron.” Hotch was at a true loss for what to do. _y/n_ seemed to be relaxed, but now that he’d witnessed her dreaming about him, dreaming in a way that had given her release, he felt like he’d witnessed something highly personal and something that he was sure _y/n_ wouldn’t want to have seen. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but be surprised and slightly flattered that she should think of him that way. He felt his core tingle at how she’d called out his name, how her face had looked at the height of her dream. Not only was his mind thinking, against his better judgment, about how lovely she had looked during release, but his lower body started to get similar ideas.
Hotch felt his cock begin to harden and internally said, “Shit.” He shouldn’t be here, not like this. Not feel this way when _y/n_ had no agency right now. He was going to attempt to leave again but as he turned a second time, _y/n_ called his name again, this time it was clearer. He turned and saw her looking at him. Her eyes were clearer now. Still a bit glassy, but not so far away. _y/n_ spoke again saying, “Hotch, you’re here?” Aaron let out a breath and approached her bed, pulling a chair up near her and saying, “Yeah. I’m here.” _y/n_ blinked a few times and replied, “You’ve never been here after a dream like that before. It’s so strange.” Hotch shifted closer. He realized that she was still not fully herself He brushed a strand of her _y/h/t_ away from her face and he couldn’t help himself from asking, “What type of dreams? What do you mean, _y/n_.” _y/n_ softly pulled the palm of his hand into hers and said, “Don’t you know? You’re there for all of them. You’re being funny today, Aaron.” Hotch quickly moved and held onto _y/n_’s shoulders as she tried to sit up fully. He tsked and said, “Hey, now. Just relax you’re in the hospital, _y/n_. I need you to relax or I’ll have to get a nurse.” Hotch knew he should get a nurse anyway, but once that happened the moment would be ruined and some selfish part of him that had longed for _y/n_ had him ask, “What are you trying to do? Where do you think you’re going, agent?” _y/n_ stilled at his final word and looked at him, saying, “I just want to put my head in your lap. Please, just for a minute. It’s always so warm and cozy.” Aaron flushed darker because this must have been something that had happened in one of her dreams because he’d never let her rest her head in his lap before. That wasn’t something even he’d dreamed about with _y/n_, and he’d had plenty of dreams with _y/n_ in the staring role before. His cock twitched in his pants comfortably, so he moved his mind back to _y/n_ who was leaning dangerously forward. He tried to gently get her to relax back onto the bed, and he said, “You need to relax, _y/n_. You shouldn’t be sitting up.” Non-lucidly she replied with a little laugh, “I’ll lay down if it’s on your lap.” Hotch was at a crossroads, he knew that MDMA could make its users very suggestible and overly sexual. He couldn’t know if this was what she wanted. But _y/n_ continued to insist and kept trying to sit up and be close to him. Finally, after the fifth time of her getting up again, Aaron moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He knew he could call a nurse, but that would most likely mean that _y/n_ got strapped to the bed and would be uncomfortable for the next few hours. So he compromised and let her place her head on his thigh. She relaxed immediately once her head was settled. It was a shocking departure from her jittery movement from before. And that was how Aaron ended up in a position he could never have imagined. He couldn’t have predicted any case that would lead to his moral quandary, and it only got more morally grey from there. 
Hotch shifted his hips the slightest bit and that did not help him. _y/n_’s head was fully in his lap now, and he knew it shouldn't be. When she was settled, _y/n_ started describing some of her dreams. Dreams about him. About him naked and doing things to her while _y/n_ was also naked. _y/n_ described them in detail. The words had made Aaron's cock twitch in his pants. As _y/n_ set her head in his lap and breathed over his groin, he hardened fully again. Aaron knew _y/n_ wouldn't be saying these things if it wasn't for the drugs. _y/n_ was a hard worker, a reserved agent, and he shouldn’t be doing this. Yet here he was, and _y/n_ was almost purring with contentment. Hotch took a stabilizing breath and said, “You’re like a kitten like this.” _y/n_ nuzzled her head into his lap further and said half asleep again, “I’ll be your kitten if you want, Hotch.” Aaron bit back a groan and endured the torture of _y/n_ being so close to his erect member without any option to do anything. From her description of her dreams, _y/n_ would love to take care of the need pressing against the fly of his pants, but she was incapacitated and not in her full mind. Hotch did his best to stay still and try and picture anything else but the lurid details of _y/n_’s dreams. Eventually, she slipped off into what seemed to be a deeper sleep. Once Aaron made sure her breath was even, he slipped off of the bed and made sure _y/n_’s face was resting on the pillow before he made a quick retreat to the nearest bathroom. He moved to the sink and felt about as hot as _y/n_ had looked at the club. He turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face and the back of his neck. He walked around the small space for a few moments just thinking about the case and nothing but the case. In a few minutes he’d managed to calm his erection, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with all that last night had revealed. Aaron moved back to the reception area to give himself some space from _y/n_. One positive was that it was unlikely that _y/n_ would remember anything that she’d said or did the previous night. He pulled out his phone and called Emily to see what the team was currently doing. Prentiss picked up on the first ring and said, “Hey Hotch. How’s _y/n_ holding up?” Aaron flushed but managed to say, “She’s… she’s doing better. Still a little out of it, but not as bad as two hours ago.” Emily didn’t comment on his long pause and waited for Hotch to continue. Aaron took a second to think about how to word his request and said, “Would you be willing to switch spots with me? I’d like a fresh look at the scene and profile, and you know how I feel about hospitals.” There was a pause before Em said, “Sure, Aaron. I’ll just tell the team and then head over. Be there in about twenty minutes.” Aaron breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her before hanging up. Hotch didn’t want _y/n_ to wake alone, but he didn’t think it would be a great idea if it was him she woke up to. It might result in an awkward moment that _y/n_ didn’t need right now. 
A few minutes later, Emily showed up and she filled Aaron in on what he’d missed and how the team was back at the precinct. She noticed how odd he was behaving, but didn’t ask him about it. Aaron was a mystery that she still hadn’t cracked yet, but if it was something important, she knew he’d tell her or ask for help. So she gave him a pat on the shoulder and watched as he left the building before being led back to _y/n_’s room by a nurse. Emily sat on a chair and watched _y/n_ sleep for an hour. At around seven a.m. _y/n_ shifted on her side and opened her _y/c/e_’s. They were red and sore looking, but they were back to normal and Emily leaned forward asking, “Hey, _y/n_. How are you feeling?” _y/n_ coughed but managed to say, “I’m okay. I know who did it. Who the unsub is.” Emily nodded and gave the woman on the bed a paper cup of water. _y/n_ took a small sip and said, “It’s Jeanie King. The woman who found the last victim. She led me to an alley and I was dumb enough to follow her.” Prentiss nodded and said, “It’s okay, _y/n_. Let me just text the team that information. You just relax and I’ll call a nurse to see how you’re doing.” _y/n_ gave a small nod and looked up at the ceiling tiles. When Emily was done with her phone, _y/n_ looked back at her with a little smile which Prentiss returned. _y/n_ said, “I’m glad it’s you here Em. I had some really lucid dreams during the night and I feel like I said some very private stuff. So how bad was it? What did it say.” Emily stilled for a moment and realized, perhaps, why Hotch was so different when she’d seen him. Emily cleared her throat and opted for honesty, saying, “Well I didn’t hear you say anything, _y/n_ but I wasn’t the one here all night.” _y/n_’s eyes went wide and she asked softly, “Who was here, Em?” Prentiss bit her tongue before saying, “Hotch.” _y/n_ covered her face with her hands and said, “Oh my God, kill me, Emily. If I said any of those things to him I’m going to jump out of the jet.” Prentiss sympathized and patted _y/n_’s shoulder saying, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, _y/n_. Even if it was, you were drugged, you couldn’t have helped yourself from saying stuff,” _y/n_ just groaned in reply, still covering her eyes. Emily called for the nurse to hope that some distraction would ease her discomfort. 
The case didn’t take long to wrap up now that _y/n_ had identified the unsub. The hospital released _y/n_ a day later and Jeanie King was found in another club the next night looking for yet another victim. The woman was disturbed and believed she was doing a great service to those she had drugged. She thought she was letting them experience a good life and time. A life that she had not experienced until she had started taking harder and harder drugs. The tough life and expectations of her home had sent her into a downward spiral. In all, it was a pretty cut-and-dry case, except for the place where the killings happened. To have it be so open and public an arena. When _y/n_ was back on her feet, the team left for home. When _y/n_ saw Aaron for the first time, he very quickly averted his eyes and she noticed him flush, and that was all she needed to know that she’d said something inappropriate to him while he had been with her in the hospital. Aaron didn’t get flustered, nothing ever flustered him, so his response was enough. To his credit, Hotch recovered more quickly than _y/n_ as he, like the rest of the team asked how she was doing. _y/n_ was flustered but tried to play it off like she didn’t need all the attention. She moved as far away from Hotch as possible because she still didn’t know the extent of what she’d said to him. If it was what she remembered, it was bad. The team glanced between the two who normally were pretty close but suddenly weren’t. Only Emily had an idea of what had happened and attempted to bridge the awkward silence in the cabin by asking Spencer a question about the case. Reid jumped at the chance to talk about famous female poisoners. This helped the team breathe, but even so, _y/n_ hardly looked at Aaron during the hour-long trip home.
The team hoped that whatever was happening between _y/n_ and Hotch would go away quickly. But even two weeks after they were back, there was still an awkwardness between them. They worked fine, but the dynamic had shifted, and not for the better. Finally, Rossi and Emily were over the drama and both went to Aaron on the same day to ask him to make it right, or to at least talk to _y/n_. Dave was straight to the point, reminding Aaron that he was the leader of this team and he needed to lead right now. Emily was a bit more nuanced and entered his office near the end of the day. He looked up from his desk and asked, “What is it, Em?” Prentiss smiled and said, “You know you’re not bad for what happened at the hospital, right?” Aaron’s dark eyes flashed to hers and he knew she wasn’t just talking about the fact that _y/n_ had gotten hurt. He slowly said, “I feel like I used her. I should have left when she started talking about that stuff.” Emily shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know if I was in that position and I was spilling my heart out I’d rather not be saying that to an empty room or a nurse that doesn’t care.” Aaron clenched his jaw and said, “She was sharing more than just her heart, Emily.” Em sighed and said, “Well you’re free to feel that way, but you need to do something about it. Either apologize or tell her you feel for her too, because it’s not working right now and you know it. And just for your information, she feels just as bad about saying that stuff to you as you feel about listening to it.” Prentiss didn’t let him make any excuses or try to avoid the real issue, that _y/n_ had shared her feelings and he needed to respond to them in some way. Either positively or with rejection, he had to make up his mind for the sake of his team, but even more for _y/n_’s sake. Hotch sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. His team was right and he wasn’t going to be a coward and just let things fester between _y/n_ and himself. He’d talk to _y/n_ tonight, about what he was going to say, he wasn’t sure, but he was going to say something. 
It was seven p.m. and dark outside the Quantico field office. The bullpen was empty except for _y/n_. Aaron knew _y/n_ was a hard worker, but after the incident in NYC, she’d stayed later and later. She stayed until after he’d left the office for the last week. He wasn’t sure if this was her punishing herself for what she’d admitted, or just an attempt to not have to be in a confined space with him like the parking garage or the elevator. But Aaron wasn’t going to let that happen tonight. Tonight he was driving her home. This would give them time and space to talk about what they needed to. It would also ensure an endpoint to the conversation once they arrived at _y/n_’s apartment. Hotch stood up from his desk chair and packed his briefcase before moving outside his office and locking the door behind him. _y/n_ looked up at Aaron as he moved down the stairs. She let out a sigh because once he was out the door she could go home too. But Aaron didn’t do his normal hand raise and “See you tomorrow _y/n_.” Nope. He was walking over to her, and _y/n_ shifted in her seat a bit. She pulled a file in front of her to look like she was working, even though she’d finished a half-hour ago. _y/n_ looked up at him and tried to act cool. She knew it had been strange, that she had been strange since the drugging and she hated it, but _y/n_ didn’t know how to say, “Hey, sorry boss. I didn’t mean to talk about my sexual fantasies with you while I was on drugs.” Instead, _y/n_ just asked, “Hey Hotch. What’s up?” Aaron parked himself by her desk and he said, “I thought I’d give you a ride home?” _y/n_ flushed and said, “It’s alright. I still have this file to finish, but thanks for the offer.” Hotch stood still and said, “_y/n_, you’re finished with that file. It’s late, let me give you a ride home, please.” _y/n_ had never heard him use this tone before, and she looked up at him almost forgetting how terrible she felt about herself and the situation she’d gotten herself into with him. The way he offered made _y/n_ realize why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place. The warmth, yet strength he demonstrated was just so overpowering. _y/n_ snapped back to herself and realized thinking like that had gotten her in trouble in the first place. Aaron saw the shift on her face and he said, “I’m not taking no for an answer, _y/n_. So you might as well grab your stuff. I don’t want you on the bus this late.” _y/n_ turned her head from him so he wouldn’t catch how flustered she was. She didn’t argue with him, it would be pointless and she’d say something stupid anyway. 
The car ride was as awkward as either of them had imagined. It was silent until they were five minutes from _y/n_’s house. _y/n_ finally plucked up the courage to look at Hotch and say, “Listen, Hotch, about the last case…” She cut herself off not knowing what she wanted to say about the last case. Aaron took the reigns of the conversation by saying, “_y/n_, I’m sorry for putting you in that situation. I shouldn’t have stayed in the room with you. It was wrong of me.” _y/n_ swallowed and asked one of her hard questions, “What exactly did I tell you? What happened?” Aaron pulled into a spot near _y/n_’s unit and replied, “You told me about your dreams. With me. And I listened because I wanted to know. I’m sorry for violating that trust with you.” _y/n_ swallowed and looked out the window. It was as bad as she feared. _y/n_ felt like crying. The emotions had sprung up like an untapped oil well. Perhaps because she was new and thought maybe she’d get kicked out for something like this, or because she knew Aaron would never feel the same way. Never look at her the way she looked at him. _y/n_ said in an almost inaudible whisper, “No, I’m sorry. I’m sure you didn’t want to hear something gross like that with me. I know I’m nothing like that to you.” Hotch hadn’t expected _y/n_ to say that. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. Hotch furrowed his brow and said, “What do you mean, _y/n_?” _y/n_ huffed, trying to stop the tears from falling down her face as she said, “I know you wouldn’t want to be intimate with someone like me, okay? I get it. I’m just a newbie with a crush. Why would you ever look at me like that.” _y/n_ tone spilled from sorrow to anger quickly.
The silence was deafening for a moment before Aaron said, “_y/n_. You’re a good profiler, but you’ve read me wrong. I like you the way you like me. I have dreams about you too.” The quiet in the car was so deep that the only thing that could be heard was their breaths. _y/n_ turned her head to look at him. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Finally, while his gaze was reaching into her soul, she said, “What did you say?” Aaron flushed and raised a hand to her cheek as he deliberately said, “I have dreams about you too.” Hotch took a breath and rubbed his thumb over _y/n_’s bottom lip which was hanging slightly slack with shock. He leaned in closer. So close that his breath fanned her face as he said, “I don’t want to hear you put yourself down like that ever again _y/n_. Do you understand?” _y/n_ nodded slightly. Their mouths were just an inch from each other. When _y/n_ couldn’t wait anymore, she closed the gap between them. Hotch’s lips were warm and soft, meeting hers with enthusiasm and energy. As soon as their mouths met, nothing could stop them from going all in. _y/n_ sucked in a breath and Aaron’s large hands wrapped behind her back, holding her close to him. _y/n_’s hands made it to his hair, and she pulled at the short strands. Aaron groaned into her touch and his hands slipped under the back of _y/n_’s shirt. Hotch slipped his tongue into _y/n_’s mouth. He explored every inch of her mouth and softly bit at her lower lip where his thumb had been mere moments before. _y/n_ moaned into his rough affection. _y/n_ pulled away breathlessly from his mouth and said, “Inside. Let’s go inside.” Aaron’s eyes were full of desire, so dark almost that they looked black. They flashed with anticipation of having more of _y/n and he nodded. The pair got out of Aaron’s car and he locked it behind him as they walked to _y/n_’s apartment. They didn’t run to her door, but they didn’t amble either. 
_y/n_ pulled out her keys and she could feel Aaron right behind her, like a shadow. He was so close that she swore his warmth was radiating over her back. She knew if she took a half step back, she’d be pressed against his chest and groin, and god she wanted that so badly. To be pressed into every part of him. _y/n_ quickly unlocked the door and once they were inside, she flicked on a light. _y/n_ heard the door close behind her and a firm hand on her shoulder. Hotch pushed _y/n_’s back to her front door and pinned her there with his arms. _y/n_ ran her tongue over her lower lip, making him want to taste her even more. He leaned down and kissed her again. His hands found her hips and his fingers dug into the soft flesh, seeking traction to keep him steady as his head spun with the overwhelming power _y/n_ had over him now. Aaron felt like a man parched in the desert and he’d finally found an oasis. He was going to have his fill. _y/n_’s hands roamed over his body that held such strength and power, yet contained a soul that longed to belong. Hotch pressed his body to her, pinning her further, but _y/n_ didn’t complain this was what she’d wanted for months. _y/n_ felt his erection and she provided him with some friction and he groaned, a deep sound coming from his chest. Aaron pulled back and said, “Do you want this? Are you sure you want to do this? Once I start I won’t be able to stop.” _y/n_ nodded mutely for a minute before saying, “Aaron, I told you how much I wanted it. I wasn’t exaggerating in the description of those dreams.” Hotch nodded and looked around the new space. He asked, “Bedroom?” _y/n_ flushed and said, “Down the hall, on the left.” He smiled at her and bent down slightly to pick _y/n_ up. He gave a little grunt at shifting her weight into his arms and also the fact that her core was now pressed his this throbbing cock. 
In the bedroom, he let _y/n_ down, and she kicked off her shoes and turned on a few lamps. Aaron watched her and then moved behind her. His arms wrapped around her torso and he kissed the crook of her neck. _y/n_ sighed and let him give her open-mouthed kisses. However, she was ready for him. She could feel herself dripping with anticipation, and she turned in his arms. _y/n_ kissed up his jawline while her hands undid the buckle of his belt. Aaron let out a breath, realizing that _y/n_ wanted to pick up the pace. He helped her take off his pants and he returned the favor by stripping her of her _y/f/c_ shirt. His gaze roved over her body now in pants and a simple bra while she took in the bulge in his pants. Aaron pushed _y/n_ to the edge of the bed and she got on her mattress facing him. Aaron hovered over her before kissing her again. He murmured, “Such a needy kitten. Begging me to fuck you.” One of Hotch’s hands slipped under the cup of her bra and he kneaded the tissue and tweaked her nipple until it was taught under his fingers. He flicked it a few times as _y/n_ squirmed on the bed. She panted, “Aaron.” Hotch moved his other hand to the clasp of her bra and unlatched it with ease. He slipped the straps down her shoulders and marveled at what he saw beneath the fabric. Hotch tossed the bra aside, and he moved his mouth to suck on the _y/n_’s right breast, he said, “I need you to be patient for me kitten. I’m going to take this slowly because we can only do it for the first time once, and I want it to be something you remember.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I understand. I’ll try and last for you.” Hotch’s tongue licked over her nipple and she moaned and arched her back at the feelings. Before Aaron went back into to suckle her again, he said, “Atta girl.” _y/n_ paid attention as Hotch’s mouth licked over her nipple. He sucked and licked it in a way that she knew he was adept with his mouth, both here, and elsewhere. His mouth and hand which was stimulating her other breast were making her even warmer and wetter. She loved the attention he was giving her, but she wanted to see him. To have him fill her to the brim like she knew only he could do. After a few moments, Aaron’s left hand traced down to her stomach, then to her naval, and finally past the band of her panties. She let out a long moan as his finger traced the contours of her arousal. Hotch pulled his face back and he said, “You sound so pretty when you make those noises, y/n_. Like a melody I’m never going to tire of.” He’d started to rub his pointer and middle finger between her folds and _y/n_ said, “Aaron, please, I need you in me.” Hotch’s face split into a grin and he said, “I can feel that kitten. You’re so wet for me already.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I am. I have been…” _y/n_’s voice was cut off with a groan as Aaron started to circle her clit. Hotch chuckled and let _y/n_ catch her breath as he took off his shirt and briefs. _y/n_ looked at Aaron’s cock that hung thick and heavy by his stomach. He was as impressive as she’d dreamed. Probably more so, but those dreams were gone now that she was in front of the real thing. Aaron noticed her gaze and he said, “Don’t look so shocked _y/n_ or you’ll scandalize me.” _y/n_ laughed, appreciating that he could have some humor at the moment. She said, “What if I praised you instead?” Aaron stilled at the phrase and said, “You don’t need my ego that big right now _y/n_.” His hands slipped to both sides of her panties and she let him slide them down her legs and to the floor like her bra. 
Aaron looked over her swollen pussy and noticed how slick it was with her readiness. He looked at her and asked, “How do you want it, _y/n_?” _y/n_ propped herself up on one elbow and used the other to pull him into another kiss before saying, “Just like this, with you on top, putting your weight into me.” Aaron nodded and helped her get into a comfortable position on her back. He asked while flicking a finger over her clit, “Are you on the pill or do I need a condom?” _y/n_ was squirming again under his skilled fingers as she said, “I’m on the pill. You’re good.” Aaron smiled and stopped his hand. _y/n_ almost mewled at the loss of feeling, but Hotch quickly replaced his hand with this cock. He guided it up and down her opening to coat it with her slick. _y/n_ arched her back and let out a long moan as he guided the tip inside her. “Aaron,” she called out as he kept pressing in and out of her. He looked down at her face, which radiated her pleasure. He checked in anyway asking, “Is it too much? Are you comfortable?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “It’s perfect. Just keep going, please. You’re not gonna hurt me.” _y/n_ opened her eyes enough to see his smile and he pressed his length further into her weeping cunt. It took him three full thrusts to seat himself in her. No matter how ready _y/n_ said she was, he wasn’t going to press her or harm her. _y/n_ wrapped her arms around him and he began to thrust in and out of her. _y/n_ let out a litany of sounds and words as he established a pace. Aaron struggled to keep his composure as left her warmth and wetness tight around his cock. He groaned as he kept moving inside her. _y/n_ hands raked down his back, asking him to move more. Aaron complied with her unspoken request. He started snapping his hips into her, filling her each time. _y/n_ let out a strangled cry that was his name and he replied, “That’s a good girl. You’re taking me so well aren’t you kitten.”Hotch stifled her future cries with his mouth. The veins on Aaron’s dick gave the perfect feeling for _y/n_’s walls to feel the sensation of Hotch’s fast pace. He was doing as she asked, putting his full weight into every thrust. _y/n_ quickly started feeling her core tighten and the fact that he wasn’t letting her get any sounds out only amplified the orgasm that she knew was fast approaching. Aaron moved one hand to her clit and began rubbing soft circles over her nerve spot. He pulled his mouth away from hers so she could hear _y/n_ pant his name and have her breath pick up even more. Aaron quickened and tightened his attention on her clit and he knew she was close as her walls tightened around him and her back arched further off the bed. He was close too and he gave her his all as his hips rocked into hers. He looked at her face and hair above her head as he said, “Let go kitten. You can let go for me.” At his encouragement, _y/n_ let her climax peak and she felt herself seize all over as the wave of euphoria crashed over her. The look on _y/n_’s face and the way _y/n_’s cunt got even tighter with her orgasm had Aaron spill into her harshly. He called out her name as he let go. Hotch leaned forward on his arms to stop from collapsing on top of her. 
Both of them took their time to catch their breaths and Aaron looked over to her saying, “That was, that was amazing, _y/n_.” _y/n_ looked at him, eyes still blown from her climax. She ran a hand over his cheek and said, “That was better than any dream I could imagine.” Hotch laughed and said, “I’m not sure about that. Some of them sounded pretty nice. Maybe we should try some of those things later on.” Hearing Aaron say that _y/n_ sobered and said, “So, we’re going to keep doing this?” Hotch looked at her and sat up from her side. He kissed the tip of her nose and said, “If you want, _y/n_. I’d like to if you're comfortable with it.” _y/n_ nodded slowly and said, “I do want that, but what about the team and the rules? Is this even allowed?” Aaron smiled down at her glowing body and said, “Yeah, we’ll have to talk about that. But it can wait for tonight. I never want you to think I don’t dream about you like you did with me. And I’m going to make sure I show you that thoroughly with time.” _y/n_ beamed and tried to sit up, but Aaron held her back and asked, “What are you trying to do, kitten?” _y/n_ flushed at the nickname and replied, “Just getting some towels to clean us up?” Hotch kept his gaze on her face before flicking it between her legs. He looked back at her and said, “You must be joking if you think I’m going to let that all go to waste. Now lay back down and let me take care of you.” _y/n_ let out a little gasp at the request, but let Aaron push her back on the mattress. He kissed down the valley of her breasts, stomach, and finally to their shared release. As his mouth expertly lapped up what he’d spilled in her, mixed with her climax, both Aaron and _y/n_ realized they’d found something very special in the other. Aaron had found an agent willing to stick with the BAU in the good and bad times, and _y/n_ had found a leader she trusted enough to follow into the fire. And well the sex, the intimacy that they had had and that to come, well that was just the cherry on top. 
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marvelwitchergilmore · 5 months
Text
Don't Waste A Second
Summary: Billy the Kid x Fe!Reader -> You and Billy have been close for a while now, but what happens when your life is put in danger and he has to bargain for your life?
Disclaimer: MDNI: Criminal Minds level (16+ subjects mentioned although not all are carried out, just (kind of) talked about. ANGST, self-deprecation though Billy won't stand for it. Talks of death, blood, gore and gunfire. Fluff splattered around. Not proof read.
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First came the sound of gun fire. 
Your heart leaped from your chest and you could feel every morsel of your being being pumped with adrenaline by the minute. 
The head of the rival gang in town sat beside you until he heard the second gun shot before he himself stood and brought you with him. 
“You’re my leverage for my life, woman. Say a word and I will kill you myself.”
It wasn't long until the owner of the gunshots appeared by the door. 
“Well, if it isn’t the Kid himself?”
“Let her go.”
He pulled you higher to his head. Even with a shot like Billy’s, this could pose a danger if he wasn’t careful. 
“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Let her go.”
“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to kidnap women?” You spoke before you even thought. 
“I thought I told you to shut up!”
“Hey!” Billy had the man’s attention once more. “You don’t talk to her. You talk to me. I’m the one you have a problem with.”
“Which makes it all the more fun having her here, right by my side.”
Billy raised his gun a little higher.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One wrong move and the bullet goes straight through her skull.”
That made Billy falter a little.
“Now, I know better than anyone that you have a little soft spot for her, so how about we cut a deal?”
“It’s not worth it, Billy.”
“Shut up!”
“I’m not worth it, Billy. Don’t do it. No matter what he says.”
“I thought I told you to shut it!”
The man’s hands dragged roughly around your neck, forcing you to look at the rotting ceiling. 
“Please, Billy. Don’t do it.”
“How much is she worth to you, Billy? Huh? Lookin at her, I’d only give a couple bucks but I have a feeling she means more to you than just a few crummy dollars. What do you say, Kid?”
Whilst the man was talking, you were able to move your hands just enough to remove the silver knife from his pocket. The one he had been spinning in his hands just moments before Billy’s gunshot rang through the house. 
“You got it?”
The man thought he was talking to him, but then you replied.
“Yep.”
In less than 3 seconds, the man felt a sharp stab go into his thigh causing his grip to loosen allowing you a swift escape. However, not before you took the opportunity to drag the blade down his leg, opening the wound further allowing Billy a clear shot of the man’s head if he wanted to take it.
And he did.
Moments later, the body dropped in front of you and you scrambled back on all fours until you got to your knees and found Billy level with you in height. 
He pushed your dirty hair from your face, and checked you over for any visible wounds. There was none yet, that he could see.
“Let’s go home.”
Hours later, you found yourself washed and dressed whilst Billy tended to some of your larger wounds. 
When you had been getting washed, you hadn’t noticed Billy sneak a glance through the gap in the clothing divider. He saw the blood. He saw the brides. He saw the scars. 
Then he heard your voice, trying to be quiet in its pain as you lowered yourself into the tub and tried to clean yourself off. 
He had asked if you needed any help, but you were stubborn. He knew your answer before you even gave it. 
But he gave you no choice afterwards. He would tend to your woods and that was final. 
So, sitting beside him on the worn sofa whilst the fire crackled to keep you both warm. Billy pressed some ointment to the scars that littered the side of your body.
He had called for the town doctor to come and see you. Of course, he came right away and saw to you- at least, what you would show him. He gave you a small prescription for the pain and some cream that would help keep the wounds clean until they finally healed. 
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.”
“Did they…did they do anything to you?”
“Billy. You are applying ointment to my scars and my body is covered in bruises. You’re seriously-“
“Did they touch you?”
You sighed, and moved a little to lift your shirt back up. “No. Not in that way. Though I doubt it would have been long before they did.”
A silence fell over you both once more, Billy breaking it a few minutes later.
“What did you mean before?”
“Before what?”
Billy sighed and replaced the lid on the tin of ointment. Resting his arms on his knees, he leaned forwards and pressed his hands together. You lowered your shirt and looked at him.
“Before, when he had you…he tried to make a bargain for your life. You said it wasn’t worth it. That you weren’t worth it. Why did you say that?”
“Because it’s true. Because I’m not.”
“But you are.”
Billy took your hand in his as he spoke to you. 
“Billy,” you chuckled a little. “ I teach five days a week at the local school. I serve people drinks on the weekends. People come and go and I am still always asked about who I am. I am…me. I’m nobody important.”
“You’re important to me.”
You paused when Billy looked you in the eyes. His hands still held yours. 
“You are everything to me, you hear? Everything. I haven’t been in the same spot since I was a kid. The reason and the only reason behind that is you. You are the reason I stayed. You are the reason I wake up in the morning and make sure everyone is safe in this town because even if just one of them isn’t, then that puts you in danger. I never wanted to see your life be put in danger because of me. You are everything to me, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Billy,”
“I mean it, Y/N. You have my whole life. You are my whole life.”
In that moment, a whole other silence took over and you found Billy moving  closer to you and found yourself doing the same to him. 
He paused for a moment, your noses brushing. He questioned you with his eyes. He needed to know if he was about to be kissed back or punched. 
Instead, he saw you nod slightly and he moved in, pressing a kiss to your lips before his hand came to the side of your face to draw you in closer.
Of course, you had been fond of Billy since the moment you met him. But you didn’t realise you loved him until just a few moments before you found yourself being towed away by a stranger, who had first told you he was one of the children’s uncles - a child who you taught at school and helped out with after class when he couldn’t just quite find the confidence to read out in class, causing his stutter to worsen. 
Billy knew the moment he stepped foot on the school grounds something was wrong. Like it was in the air, or something. 
He held a freshly picked bunch of wild flowers he’d found riding through the hills on his way to meet you. He did this every time, and everytime the pick would be different. He knew you didn’t like gifts - he had heard as much from the town’s local gossip woman when he stopped by her store to pick up some fresh dressings. 
At the time, you had just walked past the store. All Billy had to do was turn around to see when the woman was staring at and found you, with your head buried against a pile of papers and a pencil in your hand, scribbling away as you managed to avoid almost everything that stood in your way. 
“I heard she was engaged once to some fella outside of New York.”
“You hear right.” the woman told the people in the store. “Apparently he broke her heart and she came out here to teach our kids.”
“What did she do back in New York?”
“Governess from what I heard. But the kids grew up, that was just before her engagement.”
Billy would come to learn that the ‘fella’ you were engaged to did break your heart, but not due to his own failings. He had been on a city inspection job when, during his inspection of one of the machines, a water pipe that ran directly under the building exploded. 
Even if the shrapnel hadn't cut through his skin and caused him to bleed out, the weight of the machine that he fell into probably would have crushed him. He died later on in the hospital, but not before dictating very slowly to one of the nurses what he wished he could say to you first. 
You had been given the letter by the nurse shortly after she found you in the waiting room after you had seen his body. 
“Did she ever find anybody else?”
“A couple tried. Hell, some rich railway fella practically tossed diamonds at her feet, but she didn’t want them. She smiled, kissed them on the cheek and made her way back through town. All she does is work and sleep.”
Over some more comments made through the gossip fueled conversation, Billy came to learn that you didn’t like grand gifts or gestures. But rather, subtlety. Subtlety and truth. 
On the weekends when you served multiple drinks, he got to know you and before both of you knew it, he was showing up outside of school when you finished teaching and one day, whilst on a ride back into town, he brought with him a bunch of flowers, just because. 
A few hours later when he rode past your house, he found them in a vase in your kitchen window. 
So, after months of being friends with one another, and having a yearning for more, it came to your realisation that, even just the thought of Billy not turning up or not seeing him every day, knocked you sick. 
There wasn’t a world where you didn’t want to be with him. 
But, on your way out of the school gates, you were met with an ‘Uncle’. 
Pulling back from the kiss, you kept your head against Billy’s. “Wait.”
“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have-”
“No, Billy. It’s not that. I just…”
You pulled back but kept your eyes fixed on Billy, only tearing them away for a moment as you looked to his hand that you took in yours. 
“I need to know that you’re being truthful with me and not just saying all of this because of what happened today. Because, if it’s true, then there are more than just your feelings in this. I just…I don’t want to be hurt, Billy.”
“Darlin’, look at me?”
You looked up and Billy cupped one of your cheeks in his hand. “Everything I have just told you…it’s all true. Even if today hadn't happened, I would have told you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was being a coward. I love you.”
The next moment felt like an eternity for Billy, until finally, he found the light at the end of the tunnel. 
“I love you, too, Billy.”
He didn’t have to think about what to do next. Pulling you in, he kissed you like he had waited a thousand years just to see you one last time. 
And neither of you were going to waste a second. 
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wromwood · 1 year
Text
Did anybody else’s parents (or at least one of them) teach them the “Wait and see if you want it?” rule?
Basically, when I was a kid and I wanted something in a store that my dad didn’t want to buy me- BUT wasn’t also a high-end super expensive thing like a video game console that I’d undoubtedly want for a long period of time - he would refuse with the possibility of caving in later...  but only if, by the next time we visited the store, I still wanted it.
For example, I’d see a cool limited edition flavor of breakfast cereal that my dad personally thinks sounds disgusting. He’d say, “Let’s not get it today, but if you still want it after a few days, then I’ll pick it up.”
At the time, of course, I’d be grumpy. But lo and behold, next time we visited the store, I’d see that cereal and think, “Oh yeah... I forgot all about it after a few hours. Honestly, I don’t really care about it too much.” Or I’d spot a new limited edition breakfast cereal and try to get THAT one, and if my dad thought it sounded gross, the cycle would begin anew.
Sometimes, though, I WOULD still want a thing, and if it really wasn’t that expensive or a waste if I didn’t finish/use it, my dad would be true to his word, which made the lesson all the more effective. As much as it gave me later purchase indecisiveness (hemming and hawing over if I really NEED something or if I just want it and will be tired of it), I do think it benefited me overall.
For example, recently I visited the Edinburgh zoo and saw these pandas wearing tartan clothing:
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which of course I IMMEDIATELY wanted. But I decided to hold back because I’ve got other purchases to make right now, and honestly, how badly do I want it?
... The answer, as it turns out, was “very badly”, as four days later, I bought one online.
Would I have paid almost 5 pounds less if I had gotten it at the gift shop? Yes.
Is the satisfaction that I truly wanted this toy enough worth the additional expense? I sure hope so.
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lemonlover1110 · 11 months
Text
Baby Steps
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 22] June 26
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
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Satoru is in disbelief as he holds his son for the first time– Tears stream down his face as he looks at the cute little face. He’s just the cutest human ever, and he hasn’t been here for a full day. God, he’s crying even more because his baby won’t be this small again. He doesn’t want to let go of his baby. He’ll forever remember this day, June 26.
“Can I hold him, Satoru?” You can’t believe that you have to ask to hold your own son. Satoru only let you hold him to feed him, and it’s irritating; sure, there will be times that you will be begging for someone else to hold him, but today is not one of those moments. He just got here. He isn’t paying any attention to you, and you have to slightly raise your voice, “Satoru!”
“Huh?” He asks, finally looking up from his baby. You have to ask him again, 
“Can I please hold my baby?” Satoru hesitantly nods before standing up and handing you the baby. You can’t believe that you have to ask him to hold the baby that just came out of you. He gives you the baby, and you stare at him in awe. You’ve been anticipating this moment for what feels like an eternity, and he’s finally in your arms. Any pain is worth it– At least in this moment, you know that bleeding for a month straight will change your mind. 
“We need a name for him.” He says, and you hum in response. You’ve had time to think of baby names, but your mind has been too busy with your possible death. Holding your baby in your arms makes you realize that you’ve missed out on so many fun activities that would make pregnancy better. But it’s fine, as long as you have your little baby. “Do you have any?”
“I don’t.” You answer. Satoru bites down on his lip, thinking of the perfect name. A name that’ll follow him for the rest of his life. Satoru tries to think of the perfect name, but that’s just so hard to pick now. The baby doesn’t have any sort of personality yet; he’s only been alive for a couple of hours. “Do you have any in mind?”
“I don’t either.” He confesses. And he tries to think of names, but none come up in his mind. A smile comes on his lips, and he jokes, “How about Satoru Jr.?”
“God, that name is awful–” And just as you say that, the door to your room opens and you watch as your parents walk through the door. They’re quick to go to your side to finally be next to you after everything that has happened. Oh– And to finally meet their precious grandson.
“Your baby boy.” Your mom comments, her voice breaking as she sees the baby. Although she doesn’t want to say how she’s more excited to see you again, rather than meeting her grandson. Both are big events, but for the past six weeks, she’s been more worried about your wellbeing. Same is for your father. She pushes the hairs away from your face and asks, “Are you okay, baby? Is everything alright? I’ve been worried sick.”
You talk to them, avoiding sharing many details because you don’t want to think too much about everything that has happened. They fawn over their grandson, and Satoru smiles as he watches you four. Your parents argue on who gets to hold the baby first, and in the end, your mother wins. She sanitizes her hands before she picks up her grandson, putting on a baby voice as she talks to him.
“Have you two thought of a name?” Your father asks, and you shake your head. You have to name him because you can’t call him your baby boy for months on end until you finally pick the name. The baby begins to cry, and you hear your mother coo at him before she hands him back to you. You waste no time in feeding him. Meanwhile, your father asks, “How much does he weigh?”
“Seven pounds six ounces.” Satoru answers without missing a beat. The door opens again, and you look up from your baby to look at Kaya who walks in through the door. The biggest grin comes to your face and she smiles back as she walks in with a teddy bear, flowers, and a balloon. Satoru takes it from her, thanking her and although she wants to make a snarky remark, one that highlights her weird relationship with Satoru, she bites her tongue.
“Congratulations.” Kaya awkwardly smiles at Satoru before she walks to your side. She kisses your cheek before saying, “I’m so glad you’re okay. And look what you surprised us with.”
“You know I have to make a dramatic entry.” You joke, causing her to laugh. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. This truly is the greatest day of your life.
“So what name have you guys picked?” Kaya asks, only to receive the same answer that your parents got. It makes her say, “Please don’t make him a junior.”
“He’s not becoming a junior.” You assure her, and it makes Satoru roll his eyes. Well, he was definitely joking but he doesn’t like hearing it from Kaya.
“I think this is the first time I see you without your shades. You have some freaky eyes.” Kaya tells Satoru, and he rolls his eyes once again. She then looks at your baby, “Please check that your son doesn’t have the same eyes.”
“Kaya, aren’t you being a bit rude?” Your mother interrupts, and Satoru holds back a smirk. As if his sister got in trouble for making fun of him.
“Oh c’mon, look at them.” Kaya responds, and your mother rolls her eyes. When your baby unlatches, Satoru takes him from your hands and takes a seat, grabbing the burp cloth and throwing it over his shoulder before he begins to burp him. He just wants to do everything for his little one. 
“Is your family coming, Satoru?” Your father asks, changing the topic, and you’d almost feel embarrassed because Satoru’s parents don’t have an idea, but you’re so focused on the fact that you just had a baby.
“They’ll meet him when we’re back home. They can be a little too much.” Satoru answers. 
“Seiji is a cute name.” Kaya brings up, and a smile comes to your lips.
“That’s the perfect name!” You exclaim. Since Satoru has no other name in mind, and the name sounds good enough, he agrees.
“That’s better than Snoopy.” Satoru comments, making some brows raise except yours. Before anyone can ask, Satoru shares, “Ten minutes after he was born, she suggested the name.”
“Let’s not talk about that.” You’re quick to say. “God, I can’t wait to leave and go home. I hate it here.”
“I have so much planned for us when you’re back home.” Kaya says. “We have to do the baby shower–”
“Baby shower? You know that’s supposed to happen before the baby is born.” You point out.
“I don’t see the harm in having one. Even if it’s a month or two too late.” Satoru says. It’d be a fun event too, and like that everyone can meet the baby instead of having people coming in and out of the house daily. “Just wait a couple of months.”
“You can always do a baby shower for the next baby.” Your father suggests, and you look absolutely mortified.
“I’m not having any more kids. Seiji will be my first and last one. I’m not putting myself through that pain again– Let’s not even mention I didn’t have any complications.” You respond. They stay quiet, just listening to Satoru pat his son’s back and the occasional burp until there’s not more. Satoru stops, and just focuses on holding his baby again. He’s so engrossed by the cute little nose, his cute little eyes– And he yawns, Seiji fucking yawns and Satoru’s eyes well up with tears again. He’s waited so long for this.
“Well are we going to hold the baby or will you just keep hoarding him?” Kaya speaks up, making you laugh,
“He’s been doing it the entire time. He just lets me hold him to feed him.” You share, making your parents laugh, however, Kaya has a different reaction.
“Well, he’s my son so I have the right to hold him.” Satoru argues. Satoru just didn’t know he could love a tiny human so much. Satoru could’ve died earlier when the baby had his hand wrapped around Satoru’s finger. 
“You didn’t do any of the work, she carried him for nine months!” Kaya defends you.
“Yeah, because she carried him for nine months I should get to hold him for now.” Satoru says as he looks for Seiji’s blue pacifier. When he finds it, he puts it in the baby’s mouth. “Are you guys staying for long? It’s getting late.”
“We’re going back to the hotel soon.” Your mother says. She walks over to you and kisses your forehead, “We’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
Your parents say their goodbyes, dragging Kaya out with them. They promise they’ll be back by the morning. When they’re gone, Satoru walks back to you and hands you the baby, kissing the tip of your nose, “He’s just the cutest.”
“He is.” You respond, smiling down at your son. “Seiji. That’s the perfect name.”
“It is.” Satoru has to agree. He then pecks your lips, “Thank you.”
He feels this heavy weight in his chest, a foolish smile on his lips as he looks at you– He can’t blame the smile on his son because just looking at the baby makes him burst into tears. It’s unusual for him to cry, but then again, this is a life changing moment and he just can’t contain the tears. But this feeling is different, and he’s sure what it is, he just doesn’t know if it’s the right moment to tell you… He doesn’t want you to think that it’s just because you gave birth to his son. He wants you to know that even if Seiji wasn’t here, he’d still–
“He has a head full of white hair, he’s already your twin.” You tell him, and he chuckles before correcting you,
“He’s bald.”
“Hmm… I do hope that I saw wrong because I’m going to be mad if my only kid looks just like you.” You tell him.
“I want him to be my twin. He’ll be my only kid too.” Satoru responds, making you roll your eyes.
“You can procreate with someone else, it won’t hurt you one bit.” You remind him, and he shakes his head. You furrow your brows before you ask him, “What do you mean by that?”
He takes the baby from your hands and puts him down in the bassinet. God, he almost feels guilty for putting his baby down instead of holding him the entire time. He just had to talk to you for a moment. He deeply inhales, and he feels extremely nervous because he just doesn’t know how to start it off. He just had a baby and he’s feeling nervous about this. He grabs your hand before opening his mouth,
“I have to tell you something, and I don’t want you to think that it’s because we just had a baby. Even if Seiji wasn’t a factor, this would still happen.” He begins and you’re out of it. You have no idea what he’s talking about, until the words finally leave his mouth, “I love you.”
“Huh?” You can’t believe your ears. You were expecting your baby to be the biggest surprise of the month, and somehow his dad outshined him. He grabs your hand, and puts it to his chest. You feel how it feels as if it’s about to beat out of his chest, the same way that your heart beats. You end up smiling at him as he repeats,
“I love you.”
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radiant-reid · 1 year
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The Right Person
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request:
things spencer would say to his ex who’s his ex but not really his ex bc their hearts always belong to the other but is actually his ex bc they called it quits but just bc it’s over doesn’t mean it’s really over cuz he’s just: last slide
Summary: Right person, wrong time... at least until there's a part two
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst, sort of)
Content Warning: a tiny spicy moment
Word Count: 3.3k
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Spencer has always jumped into things too quickly. It's the cocktail of being a romantic, coming from a broken home, failing with most social relationships, and the desperate need for a family.
So when Y/n came along, all smiles and beauty, he moved too fast. Fell is probably a more accurate verb. He fell in love so quickly without any logic that he couldn't help proposing a year in and marrying her six months later.
She offered him support and unconditional love. And for the first time in a tough five years in the FBI, he felt like the world wasn't completely terrible.
The whirlwind relationship would have been much better if taken slowly. It might have even worked out. With their fast pace, neither of them could keep up and after four years, trying to make it work wasn't worth it. The therapy, fights, and long periods without speaking wasted time and drained them both emotionally.
It was like fire. Hot and heavy or warm and comforting, but they were destined for a burn.
Sure, they loved each other more than anything, and they would forever argue that they're soulmates and the timing was at fault.
When Beatrice was nine months old, it was clear things wouldn't, so for her sake, Spencer moved out, the fighting stopped, and they could be friends.
For three months, they've been doing well with their co-parenting routine. Since Spencer had spent so much time away during their marriage, Y/n didn't have to get over the feeling of loss.
Maybe some of that could be accounted for by the fact it still felt like they were dating, the magnetism between them still volatile.
It's Saturday when Y/n's baking in the kitchen. She's yet to enquire about selling it, probably because they're yet to properly get divorced. Somehow, it doesn't feel weird for her to live in their marital home. She ignores how little it feels like they're broken up, especially when she's eagerly anticipating him coming home back from a case. He's not even coming to see her, but she's changed out of her pajamas and put makeup on.
"Guess who?" A voice says while the matching fingers block her vision.
If she didn't know that voice like the back of her hand, she would have freaked out. "You're so close to losing your key, Spencer Walter Reid."
He pulls his hands away, resting his back against the bench with his body facing her. "Boring answer. I would have accepted sexy ex or the smartest man alive." He says, smiling his perfect wide smile.
He looks good, a golden glow still surrounding him, and his shirt fits him tightly around his muscles. She's allowed to say that as his eventual ex-wife, right? It's more of a compliment to herself for attracting attractive, intelligent men. That's how she justifies it anyway.
"Who's been inflating your ego, loser?" She teases.
Repartee of their level is something no one else could ever offer him, and he cringes when other people try. "Jealous?" He asks.
Yes, she is. She'd love to shower him with compliments. Tell him about how nice his hair looks a little bit longer, how he should wear more light blue because it really is his color, how good he smells, and some less innocent things as well. The jealousy boils in her at the thought of someone else doing that. Still, she resists.
"That someone else has to vacate the bathroom for hours each day so you can do your hair? No." She lies. It's a lie on all levels.
Unimportantly, he doesn't spend that long in the bathroom, and he's about the furthest thing from a narcissist there is, but deeply, she would jump at the opportunity to be locked out of the bathroom while he spends far too long in the shower and be greeted with the gorgeous sight of a towel wrapped around his hips and his chest showing.
"Okay." He lets it go, and it annoys her that he won't believe the time. "Can I have some cookie dough?"
"Say please." She directs.
He pouts too much like Beatrice. "Please." He complies before opening her mouth.
She frowns, unsure if he seriously wants her to hand-feed him cookie dough. The answer is yes because he doesn't shut his mouth and tell her it's a joke. She scoops some up, putting her fingers into his mouth. He doesn't let them sneak out without wrapping his lips. It's suggestive, and it doesn't disgust her.
"You'll get salmonella." She tells him when he finally lets her fingers out of his mouth. She tries not to blush like mad while she wipes her fingers on a kitchen towel.
"You'll have to look after me then," Spencer says, justifying it. "As the person who gave it to me."
She shakes her head. "Gross."
"Why are you baking on a Saturday?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her. He's suspicious whenever things change in her behavior, more so than anyone else's.
"I'm anticipating being busy tomorrow." She answers ambiguously.
It was on purpose, but the goal wasn't to make him curious and ask more questions. She just wasn't jumping at the opportunity to hear his opinion on her love life.
Unfortunately, his curiosity peaked when she started speaking. "Why?" She mumbles out an answer that he doesn't catch. "Come on, don't be shy."
"I'm going on a date." She says finally, avoiding looking at him.
That knocks him off guard, the smile slipping from his face as he steps back. Quickly, he forces himself to say something recoverable to hide the hurt and shock he's feeling at the unexpected news. "Does he know you're married?"
He knows he has no right to be upset about it. Not only are they not exclusive, but they're, in no way, romantically involved. It's why there's no bite in his words, nothing vicious in his tone.
It hits him harder with every passing second. Her statement is something he never expected, and questioning why that is while standing in the middle of their kitchen with her in a beautiful new top, yeah, it's gut-wrenching.
She holds up her bare left hand, shed of a wedding ring. "He doesn't, no."
"What's his name?" Spencer asks next. There are a million questions on his mind, but he keeps the conversation casual.
"Bradley."
She feels guilty for it, unsure if it's cheating guilt or mom guilt, and she's forced to constantly remind herself that it's okay, she's allowed to say yes when she gets asked out and be swept away by someone else.
His next move, to her, seems predictable. Whenever he's looking for more information, he stays quiet, waiting for her to feel awkward enough to elaborate. Even though she used to read him like an open book, she can't see that he's processing, replaying their worst moments-the moments that led them here- in his head.
She keeps talking, annoyed that his old trick is working when really she's just breaking his heart more. "He's a defense attorney, but he accidentally took my coffee the other day."
Spencer resists the urge to scoff because 'accidentally.' He's seen Morgan use the move a hundred times: pretend to mix up the coffees, apologize, and seal the deal by asking if he can make it up to her. "Switching teams, I see." He interrupts, predominantly so that he doesn't have to hear anything else. "And a new top." He mentions. Again, a tactic to get her to stop talking. "What color is it? It would look really nice as a feature wallpaper."
He does that, too, only complimenting things adjacent to her. Talking about fucking interior design instead of just saying she looks nice pushes her buttons, and she knows where his are.
"Yeah, I was wearing a jacket in a similar color, so I'm hoping it's a subliminal message." She admits. "Plus he's tall and very attractive.”
Spencer wants to scream something along the lines of 'I'm 6'1, I have three PhDs, you've told me I'm handsome after you held my hair up while I puked after drinking far too much, and I'm so goddamn in love with you,' but he can barely admit the last fact to himself.
"So he's got brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes?" Spencer teases her, and she rolls her eyes. That dumb eidetic memory would never let him forget the descriptors she'd given him, and his cocky attitude would never stop mentioning it. "It's not your fault you have a type. Scientifically-"
"Shh." She requests, pressing her finger to his lips.
Without thinking about it, like it was second nature, Spencer purses his lips and kisses her skin. After letting it linger for a moment, she takes it away and turns back to what she's doing.
Again, he draws her attention back to him, cupping the cheek furthest away from him and turning her face to look at him. Once she is, eyes locked on his, he holds her other cheek. He steps forward so that he's so close to her that her breath gets trapped in her throat.
Those fingers on her skin make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling, and her heart starts to thump in her chest when she sneaks a glance at those beautiful veins. Maybe her skin is hot or maybe his fingers are just cold but the contrast sends shivers all over her. It's hard not to think about all the times they've been inside her or how they look wrapped around his cock as he lines himself up with her sex.
"Y/n, if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god." He says threateningly, and it would worry her if she didn't know him so well and if it wasn't so hot.
"You don't believe in god." She calls him out, raising her eyebrows in challenge.
"I can find anyone, anywhere." She can't debate that. "And if he lays a hand on you, I'll kill him or put him in jail for the rest of his life. Your choice."
He's acting like he's doing her a favor, letting her decide how he'll hurt someone who hurts her. It's an odd declaration to be making, contradictory to every bit of his sweet nature, and she doesn't hate it.
"What if I ask- beg for it?" She questions him.
"Oh, I'm not worried about that." He's really not.
He would do immoral things that would make him lose his job and even go to jail if someone hurt her, but the deep feelings he's disgusting as an overprotective bravado against someone assaulting her is really just because he can't stand the thought of someone else being with her.
He's not worried about it sexually. She might be anticipating not being home for the night, but she's not the type to ask a first date to get rough with her. What's got him on edge is her being someone else's emotionally. They might be telling everyone they're not together, but if her heart belongs to someone else, there's no chance of him getting her back, and that's all he wants.
His lips are so close that she could kiss him, but the magnetism makes it challenging to resist. She yearns for the feeling of warm lips against hers, more specifically, the pretty pink ones she's peeking at.
They've had slips before. It's been three weeks since their last one. Every time, she swears she won't do it again, but she's ready to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the kitchen.
She's daring him to make that dangerous leap, and he's about to.
The cries of a woken-up one-year-old through the baby monitor snap them back into a harsh reality before their lips can touch. They both wonder if it's horrid that they forgot why he's there. Spencer lingers for a moment with her face in his hands before he breaks away from her painfully.
"I'll go." He says, leaving her standing there stunned with cheeks hot and a pounding heart.
She has a moment to recover, but it's not enough, and soon Spencer's back in the room with the sweetest baby in his arms. She's giggling, clinging to her dad, who she loves dearly. If Y/n didn't love Beatrice wholeheartedly, she'd be jealous she wasn't enough for Spencer to spend time with. But she can't be. Not when Bea has the greatest dad in the entire world, and she deserves every inch of his love.
"Kiss momma." Spencer directs, holding her up to Y/n's cheek.
She plants a kiss that's mostly saliva on her mom, and despite how messy it is, it makes Y/n grin. "How'd you sleep, baby?" She asks, knowing they'll be no reply. Her vocabulary is limited to three words: mom, dad, and love.
"Not so well last night," Spencer answers like it was intended for him.
He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sitting Bea in his lap. "Spencer," Y/n warns, glaring at him.
"Your mom's mad at me." He stage-whispers to Bea. "I never know why."
"Should we start with lying to a child?" She wonders, but it's playful, not insulting. "Add in some pesky comments."
Spencer pouts, holding Bea up so she can see it and copy her father. "Oh, she loves them." He assures her. "And I love you. So much."
Y/n smiles in adoration. He might be difficult to be in love with, but he's the best dad ever. Spencer catches her staring, it's pretty obvious when the bowl of cookie dough sits abandoned on the counter.
"You look so similar." She says, trying to prevent the awkward since and slightly too romantic looks.
"Need another one to look like you?" He jokes, or maybe it's an offer. She can't really tell.
She scoffs, shaking her head. "I'm alright, thanks."
"But she's so perfect." He coos, her entire hand holding his pinky finger. "How could you not want another one?"
She chuckles at his baby fever. It is practically impossible to not want another child when theirs is so incredible, but they're only masochistic towards each other.
"Don't go getting random girls pregnant, Spencer." She jokingly advises him.
“I’m only ever going to get one girl pregnant.” He tells her.
He’s messy. In fact, they’re messy together, and he can’t keep his dick in his pants, but it’s not a problem he has with anyone else.
"That's possibly very nice." She says, frowning as she tries to figure him out.
"You're lucky." He rephrases.
She laughs, shaking her head. "You're lucky I don't kick you out now."
"Whoa, I get it." He teases. "It's someone's time to get lucky, hang a sock on the door and all that."
"I highly doubt you got any in college." She reminds him.
"Or now." He adds.
It should be weird. Who casually discusses sex with an ex?
"Yeah, I noticed one of your hands seems stronger than the other." She quips, although there's no discernable difference. They're both equally delicious.
"Mm, reminds me, I need more lotion." He mentions, playing along with the joke. "Vanilla, right?"
She fake-gags. "That's literally disgusting." She chides. "Do not go and get the same lotion I have to jack off."
He shrugs casually. "It's a free country."
"You're disturbing." She reiterates, reminding herself he said it to get her flustered.
"Don't flirt with me like that, or I might start thinking you like me." He warns, fluttering his eyelids at her.
She does feel like she's falling in love all over again with him when it's all flirting and comfortable.
"You'd be begging if I was flirting." She assures him, and it's true. Spencer begs like no one else.
"Alright, I think that's time to go." He decides, clicking his tongue and looking at Bea again. "Your mom's too into me for her own good."
That is hitting the nail on the head. She's into him and she always will be, but it's not wise, and it compromises her self-respect time and time again.
He gets up, bouncing Bea on his hip and walking around the bench. She leans forward to kiss her happy baby before playing with her soft hair. "Just admit you lost, Spencer." She tells him.
A little grin lights up his features as he refuses to comply with her directions. "I never lose." Oh, except for his one true chance at happiness and a family with the most remarkable woman in the world.
"Those beautiful big brains." She coos, moving her hand to his hair to part his curls properly.
"I'm sure yours are equally, if not more, beautiful." He says, once again making her stomach slip with the eye contact. "Smaller of course."
She scoffs out a laugh. "Bye." She says. "Her bag's in the hall."
"When do you want her back?" Spencer asks, holding the baby up so her cheeks can be kissed an obscene amount of time.
Their custody arrangement is nonexistent. With Spencer's hectic schedule and their good relationship, there's never been a need to make it official. Bea's always his priority when he's in the District, and that keeps Y/n happy.
Not fully happy. She'd like to see Bea, and her dad, every day, and she's too far from that with the latter Reid to ever be completely satisfied with her life. Months later, she's still convincing herself she can one day not look at him and wish for something unrealistic.
"Whenever." She says. They start walking towards the front door, slowly, both lingering and dragging it out. "If you need to go, you can bring her back."
"If you're in the middle of a date?" He wonders cheekily, grabbing Bea's bag from the floor.
She glares at him, not finished with her sentence. "Otherwise, I'll text you."
"Call." He insists. "We're not texting people."
"Fine." She agrees, swinging open the door. She takes Bea into her arms, giving her a tight hug. "Love you, sweet baby."
"Mom, love," Bea mumbles back, placing her hands on Y/n's cheeks.
Spencer gets the sinking feeling in his chest that he always gets leaving, but it's worse when he's taking Bea, who's Y/n's entire world. It makes him feel nauseating amounts of guilt. How can he be okay with putting her through the loneliness of a house that big being empty?
He smiles at her as he takes Bea back. "Thank you."
She not sure what for and she doesn't have a chance to ask before he's walking out the door, strapping Bea in her car seat. She waves at her mom, looking as happy as always.
Spencer stops before he gets in his seat. "Y/n?"
"Yeah?" She asks, straightening up her posture.
She's hoping he'll say what she wants to hear, although she doesn't know what that is. A Spencer fact would keep things simple, but saying something about how they can get back on track, that she shouldn't go out tonight, would ruin their carefully stacked house of cards.
"He's a lucky guy." He says, and it kills him to know that it used to be him taking her out, watching her grin from across the table, making her laugh until she's begging him to stop, driving home with his hand on her thigh, watching her take off her makeup and become more beautiful, and ending up cuddling in bed, their baby just a room over.
And he can't ever have that again, not with her, and he can't fathom it with someone else.
Y/n goes back inside once he's driven away, hoping for once, after he leaves, that she can not think about him.
It doesn't work. As always, she's stuck thinking about Spencer.
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artemisthewh0re · 6 months
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hello
Can you write one where the reader have money probleme that she hide form Eddie and she have a job to afford her basic need but she still struggled and when Eddie birthday come she do more hour to afford to buy him he gift and she even skip meal to not loose any money and Eddie end up finding this and they have a big argument during his birthday because of that and stop talking for week but he end up coming back and they have a happy ending 
For You
Eddie Munson x reader
Warnings: TW disordered eating (sorta)
A/n: I always look forward to your requests because they challenge my writing and creativity
Fifteen Days Before Eddie's Birthday
****
Fifteen days until Eddie's birthday, thirteen days until your next paycheck, bills are due in sixteen days and you only have $125 in your bank account. Exhaustion pulls at your eyelids as you try to do the math in your budget journal.
"Groceries are almost $60, gas is $40," you whisper to yourself. You let out a sigh. You'll have $25 left over after just two things and still need a present for Eddie and pay bills afterwards. You scribble across your journal "fuck" over and over again, trying to think of how you'll get the money.
You could just ask your boyfriend for some help with groceries or bills. You could skip a gift all together and just take him on a cheap date. But you don't want him to worry about you, these are your problems not his. It's embarrassing to see how bad your finances have gotten.
"I need more hours," you say to yourself.
Twelve Days Before Eddie's Birthday
***
Your feet ache painfully as the twelfth hour of your double starts to sink in. The memory foam on your flats has worn off from the constant working, walking, standing. You push through it, taking yet another table in your section. A smile attempts to plaster itself into your face as you do your generic server greeting, but you end up coming off delirious. It doesn't help that your stomach growls loudly every time you hand a customer their food.
Nine Days Before Eddie's Birthday
Dinner was a mix of different customers' orders that had been sent back to the kitchen. As usual they were perfectly fine, just not perfect for the customer. Despite looking like a rat sneaking food in the kitchen, you felt better having something in your stomach after several days of not eating. You'd made $400 in tips so far and you weren't going to waste any of it. You had stopped driving to save on gas money and hadn't shopped for groceries in over a week.
Four Days Before Eddie's Birthday
Eighty hours. That's how much you have worked so far. Your apartment was a distant memory at this point. You'd stay at the dinner you work at to nap between shifts. Almost every coworker you have has given you one of their shifts out of pity. It was worth it in your mind. $800 in tips and your paycheck in two days was guaranteed to help with your boyfriend's gift and rent. With any luck you might have enough money to buy enough groceries to last a couple weeks.
Two Days Before Eddie's Birthday
Wind rushes past your face as you walk as fast as you can to cash your paycheck. Ninety hours of work translated to a $220 paycheck on top of all your tip money. It was just enough for you to get the perfect gift for Eddie and still afford rent. You slam the check in front of the bank teller a little too excitedly. She gives you a nasty look for startling her, but none of that matters to you. After the bank you head straight to your real destination, the record shop.
It's filled with every kind of music you can think of but you only came for one thing. Near the back of the shop was an aisle of classic rock and metal records from the 60s and 70s. Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, and Kiss were some of Eddie's favorite bands and you had found a gold mine of vinyls he doesn't already own. You made a list of albums Eddie had talked about getting and peruse the aisle, picking up anything on your checklist.
The cost of Eddie's gifts was just over $300 not including the gift wrap and birthday decorations you bought for his party. You went slightly over your budget, but there's still enough for your rent. You might have to live off of customers' sent back orders again but that thought is at the back of your mind at the moment. All you can think about is your beautiful boyfriend's face when he sees his gifts.
Eddie's Birthday
***
Party streamers, balloons, and a big Happy Birthday banner decorate your tiny apartment. A Walmart sheet cake sits on your coffee table with two candles, marking your boyfriend's 20th birthday. All of Eddie's D&D group huddle around eating pizza brought by Mike and sipping coke, possibly spiked with rum, brought by Eddie.
"Thank you guys for coming to celebrate my boyfriend's birthday! A special thank you to Mike and Eddie for providing extra food and drinks since I forgot to get them. Everyone put your gifts in a neat pile next to the couch," you announce.
Eddie sits on the couch gleefully as he's presented with presents. His lopsided birthday crown lays gently on his messy brown curls and his smile is from ear to ear.
"Let's see what you cheap asses got me. Which one should I open first?" Eddie teases. He pulls you into his lap and inspects the different boxes and gift bags.
"Oh, do me first," Dustin raises his hand with a smile before Eddie finishes his sentence.
Dustin's gift is a set of metal Ral Partha DnD figurines. All of them have intricate details and look amazing, even to a non DnD player like yourself.
"Thanks Henderson, we'll use these for our next campaign," Eddie says, turning them around in his hand.
The next few gifts follow a similar theme minus a random deck of cards and a new rolling tray, which your boyfriend was very grateful for. Finally Eddie gets to your gift.
"Saved the best for last," Eddie says, giving you a little pinch on the butt. You quickly swat away his hand with a giggle.
Your boyfriend removes the tissue paper from your bag at a dramatically slow pace. He pulls out the first record, Black Sabbath's Technical Ecstasy vinyl from 1976. His chocolate eyes widen with kid-like joy as he inspects it. He gently places it on the coffee table next to the cake and brings out another vinyl, Judas Priest's British Steel album.
"Babe," he whispers as he quickly rifles through the bag, "these are amazing! How did you know I wanted these? It must have cost a fortune for you to get all of these."
"You talk about them literally all the time, baby. I just made a list of the ones you talked about the most and made sure you didn't have them yet," you reply. Eddie smothers you with cheek and forehead kisses, not caring about anyone else in the room.
"All of your gifts suck compared to her's," Eddie jokes.
The rest of the party was spent eating cake and talking about future plans. By the end of the night your apartment was a mess of wrapping paper and deflated balloons. After everyone files out for the night, Eddie stays back to help you clean up.
"Sorry about the mess babe, I forgot how gross these guys are," Eddie apologizes while picking up scraps of paper.
"It's fine, I'm just glad everyone had fun."
You stack the leftover pizza into your fridge along with a final slice of birthday cake. The inside of the refrigerator looks depressing and barren with just those two items in there.
"Damn, you need groceries," Eddie comes up behind you. You reflexively shut the fridge door.
"No, I'm good for the next few days. I'll just live off the leftovers till they're gone."
"Let's just pick up a few things while the store is still open. You'll have to get them eventually," Eddie lightly flicks your forehead.
You walk out of the kitchen and sit on the couch, fidgeting with your fingers nervously.
"I can't!" Your voice cracks a little at your sudden outburst.
"Why not?" Eddie moves to the seat next to you. He wraps a gentle arm around your shoulders.
"I have to pay rent tomorrow and I won't have enough left for groceries. I'm fine though I've got leftover pizza and whatever gets sent back to the kitchen at work!" All the words just spew out for your mouth before you can stop yourself.
"Don't tell me you spent most of your money on my birthday gift," Eddie scoffs. The look in your eyes is the only answer he needs. "Honey, why do you do this? You did this last Christmas and every holiday before that!"
"I'm sorry, I was just trying to get you something nice Eddie," your voice cracks as you speak.
"You could get me a flower off the sidewalk and I'd be happy. I don't need $300 worth of records or a new guitar! And I don't need a girlfriend who can't even be a functional adult and watch her spending."
Eddie jumps from the couch, gathering all of his things except the records.
"Return them," is all he says before he walks out of your apartment.
The deafening silence is broken by your gentle sobs as you sink deeper into your couch. You did all of this for him, but he was right. You're twenty-years-old and can barely keep enough money for food after buying an obnoxious amount of unnecessary things. You overworked yourself just to go broke again.
You look over at the solitary bag of records sitting in the middle of the room. I know what I have to do.
One Week After Eddie's Birthday
***
The records are gone, your rent has been paid, and your fridge is filled with groceries. Even with everything full and paid off, you still felt empty without Eddie. You haven't tried to call him since the argument, but you thought about him every day. Still, you continue to focus on yourself and work and save.
Your mind is distracted from the topic of your ex by a busy mid-shift. Customers just spill into seats faster than you can say ‘Hello’. The hostess seats another person in your section when you turn your back. You give her a look of frustration, knowing it's not her fault, but she mouths a little ‘sorry’ before going back to her stand.
Your body moves on autopilot to your new table as your feet scream in agony. You're just about to do your greeting when you see who's sitting down. Eddie.
“I-uh, Hi,” you say with a confused stutter.
“Hey,” Eddie replies in a nervous tone.
“What can I get you?”
“I wanted to talk. I know you're working, but just pretend like you're talking my order.”
“Eddie, I can't. There are tables that need my attention,” you sigh.
Eddie fiddles in his pocket for a minute before pulling out a $50 bill.
“$50 tip and all you need to do is listen,” Eddie pleads, sliding the bill towards you. You silently put the tip in your server book and wait for him to speak.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you or shame you for buying me such a nice gift. I just wanted you to be okay and take care of yourself and not worry about getting me so expensive. I love you so much and I know I don't deserve a second chance because of how I acted. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything. I was the immature one not you.”
“I can't do this right now, Eddie.”
“You don't have to respond, just know that I'm sorry.” Eddie gets up to leave but you stop him.
“My break is in ten minutes, I'll meet you outside,” you say, before walking away from his table.
The next ten minutes are excruciating. All you can think about are his words. What do you say? Go fuck yourself? I forgive you? Your mind races all the way up until your boss lets you off on your fifteen.
The parking lot is almost completely empty except for Eddie's dingy van sitting in a more secluded area. You walk over and knock on the passenger side window. Eddie quickly unlocks the door for you.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Eddie says with a smile on his face.
“I have a lot to say, so just be quiet for a sec,” you reply, getting into the van. “You were right, I needed to become a functional adult. And even though you were right, you were still wrong for yelling at me and making me feel like shit. I forgive you, but it's going to take more than that to fix our relationship.”
Silence fills the small space of the van before Eddie speaks again. “I'm sorry, I really am. Can we start over? Not pretend like this didn't happen, but rebuild trust and love for each other?”
“I would love that.”
“Okay,” Eddie grins from ear to ear.
“Okay,” you say, not being able to hide your own smile.
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crepesuzette2023 · 18 days
Text
Ivan Vaughan writes about John and Paul
This is just a relatively brief excerpt from Ivan Vaughan's book, which, for the most part, focuses on his life with Parkinson's disease. (From what I can tell so far, it's absolutely fascinating: far more than 'simply' a memoir, it's a reflection on illness, the mind-body connection, science, psychotropic drugs, patients' autonomy...and much more.)
But since this blog is climbing the drainpipe to the John & Paul business, and there's been some recent discussion of Mark Lewisohn's claim that John was such a bad boy Ivan's mother sent her son to a different grammar school to separate the two, I thought the following might be interesting.
And the ending of this chapter also gives some context to Paul's reaction to John's murder—another topic about which ML has interesting opinions.
This isn't to pile on ML, but more...as words from someone who was there.
(CC: @mythserene, @anotherkindofmindpod) I met John when I was three or four years old. One wet morning there was a knock at the front door. My mother opened it, and looking down, found a boy a bit older than me, smiling, but preoccupied with the effort of remembering what he had been rehearsed to say.
‘I believe a little boy lives here. I wondered if you might like to come out and play.’ He stood there in the porch, rain pouring down behind him, with a pair of slippers under his arm.
‘Come on in. What’s your name? You live round the corner don’t you?’
Next day I went around to the house where he lived with his aunt and uncle. We played with Dinky cars. I was surprised by his generosity and willingness to share his toys; he was happy even for me to take some of them home. When his Uncle George came home with some sweets John readily shared them. There was an immediate bond between us. He was older, read books, and his great intelligence and experience were apparent. I accepted his leadership but I was determined to preserve my independence. From the warm security of Aunt Mimi’s control, John accepted me into his life.
John was a member of his local library and immersed himself in books so that by the age of five he was already a fluent reader. I was still in the infant school when he started at Dovedale Road Primary School, but we played together after school and weekends. There were numerous parks, a golf course, and fields full of tangled growth and trees — just right for playing cowboys and Indians. In one barren area with large lumps of hard earth we played football and cricket. We spent hours digging all tracks to race our Dinky cars. Our most exciting game, though, was ‘fires’. We would go to a large area of waste ground and simply set fire to the straw and watch the place. I have never understood why nobody stopped us.
John’s gang comprised, besides himself, Pete Shotton, Nigel Wally and me. I was the youngest and was constantly having to prove my worth. I feel privileged to be John’s friend since he was nearly two years older. He protected me against Timmy Tarbuck and his gang on the rare occasions when I made the mistake of confronting one of them.
John and I went to different grammar schools, but I used to hear about the chaos and riots that seem to be a daily feature of his schooling. I’d rather lost touch with him when I went to university, and did not see him again until sometime after I was married. Then one day, as I was playing with my little boy Jus on the steps of our house in London, white Rolls Royce turned into the road. John jumped out followed by a woman I have not met before.
‘Hello, Ivy! This is Yoko.’ (…)
My attachment to both John and Paul ran deep and occasionally I would go to great lengths in order to see them at a moment’s notice. Maybe Paul saw our continuing friendship as a way of maintaining simple values he held dear. Jan liked Paul, though she did not see much of John. She was not the least bit mesmerized by their fame. She enjoyed eating at expensive restaurants in sampling London’s nightlife, into which Paul took us from time to time. But, should the effort to come to great, she was willing to let the relationship fade.
A month after telephoning John in New York [with the news of the Parkinson’s diagnosis; their first conversation in years], a heavy parcel was delivered. It was not until I was reading the titles of the books it contained that I realized they had been sent by John and Yoko. There was one by Arthur Janov, author of the Primal Scream, and one entitled Mind Magic. How to Get Well had on the fly-leaf a message from John that read ‘to start looking’, and The Snow Leopard had a note saying ‘to relax’. This last book gave me the greatest pleasure and I frequently re-read passages from it. Its author, Peter Matthiesen, lost his son through illness and journeyed in Nepal and in Inner Dolpo on a completely pointless journey to catch sight of a snow leopard. The peace he found travels across to the reader from each page.
John’s accompanying letter urged me, in punning language, to keep my spirits high and strongly suggested that it was up to me whether I sank or swam. I must not lose faith in myself.
Ten weeks later he was shot dead. Paul and I did not contact each other about it; in fact, we never brought it up in conversation. I hardly reacted outwardly at all. The day after John’s death, however, a colleague said that he supposed I was very upset at what it happened. I heard myself say: ‘I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know that I feel much at all’. As soon as he had gone, I instinctively made my way to a room where I knew I could be alone, and I wept profusely.
-- from Ivan-Living with Parkinson's Disease by Ivan Vaughan. 1986.
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