#i keep picturing a big big man stuck in a tiny tiny chair and holding his kid's bags

[confused-pyramid]

One Step From Grace | s4

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 19.2k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, abortion mention, implied SA, gun violence, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 4x01, 4x02, 4x03, 4x09, 4x11, 4x16, 4x17, 4x18, 4x23, and 4x26

a/n: Some more tension in the slow burn! I included some more specific episode details in this one, because some of the eps and characters are important to future seasons :') P.S. I love hearing all of your thoughts and comments (it's honestly what makes all of this worth it) so lmk what you think:) Title is from Grace by Rag 'n Bone Man

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"Garcia, is everyone okay?"

You can hear the sound of sirens blazing down the street a few blocks away from you, but you're too far away to make it there in time.

"Oh, thank god, you're alright," she gasps over the phone, her voice thick with tears. "Rossi and Reid called me just now, and Derek's on the line."

He greets you with a frantic urgency. "Hey, Y/N, I'm heading to the explosion site to see what happened."

"Okay, sounds good, keep calling people," you instruct Garcia, before swerving across the lanes and turning at the next intersection.

She calls Emily, who tells you that she's also going to the NYPD's critical incident command posts. When she tries JJ, the call doesn't go through, and then suddenly the line goes quiet.

"Garcia?" you call into the void. "Penelope, are you there? Derek? Emily?" No one responds, and your heart rate spikes again as you pull over in front of the command center and rush inside.

Rossi and Reid envelope you in big hugs when you find them in the main bullpen, and soon after, Emily and JJ join you inside.

"Do we know what happened?" you ask them as you crowd around the city map where Reid pinpointed all the prior crime scenes. "What street was the explosion on?"

Reid opens his mouth to answer, when Emily's phone rings. "Yeah, Garcia, I'm back. JJ's here too."

She listens for a few seconds, before her eyes widen and she glances over at you. Lifting the phone from her ear, she puts it on speaker and says, "Can you repeat all of that?"

"Derek's chasing after the bomber," Penelope says, her breaths coming out in short spurts. "The bomb... it was in Kate's SUV, or under it. Hotch is out there with her."

Your heart stutters and you press your palms against the back of the chair in front of you, leaning over it to get closer to the phone. "Is he okay?" You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. "Are they okay?"

"He seems okay, but she looks really hurt. He hasn't moved her."

You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and stand up straight, turning around to catch your breath. If something had happened to him...something irreversible...you don't know what you would've done. Especially after the last thing you said to him.

It's not your place to have this discussion.

Screw you.

"Where was Kate's SUV parked?" Rossi asks from behind you as you rub your eyes and turn back to face Emily's phone.

"2 blocks East of Federal Plaza."

***

You keep picturing the security camera feed of his SUV blowing up as you rush into St. Barclay's hospital. The moment Morgan called with the update that Hotch was taking Kate there in an ambulance, you all piled into an SUV and drove straight over.

You know Garcia and Morgan said he was fine, but not all injuries are visible. You're the first person inside, and you rush down the hallways until you spot a nurse in the ER. After you flash your badge, she points you to the curtains behind her.

When you push past them, he's standing up, working on the last few buttons of his shirt. His face is covered with tiny abrasions, and there's a piece of gauze stuck to his right ear.

"Aaron," you whisper, not wanting to startle him. He looks up as he grabs his tie out of the bag they put his clothes in. "Let me do that."

You take the tie from him as he sighs and closes his eyes for a long moment. It's silky against your fingers as you loop it around his neck and slide it under his collar.

"How are you feeling?" you ask him, trying to keep your voice soft.

He dips his chin to meet your eye and he squints as he shakes his head. "I'm fine, but Kate's in surgery. It didn't look good."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, forgetting about any prior gripes you had with her. "I'm sure she'll pull through."

He purses his lips and nods, just as the rest of the team pushes past the curtain. You step back quickly without thinking, and you don't miss the flash of confusion in his eyes before he turns to Morgan for the latest update on the bomber.

You swallow thickly as you look at your feet, letting everyone else walk around you. You don't know why you stepped back. Maybe it's the freshness of his divorce. Maybe it's the way Agent Calvert from the Portland office looked over your shoulder after you told him you weren't ready for dating again.

Whatever it was, you know you hated how it felt.

***

"There's a bomb on the ambulance."

Fear spikes through him as he turns around. "The ambulance which I drove in here." This day has already been longer than any of them expected it to be, but each passing minute seems to bring another surprise.

Rossi shoots him a knowing look that he reflects. "The hospital is their target."

He glances at you and you look back at him, your eyes filled with what he can only guess is fear. His mind flashes back to your interaction earlier, but he pushes it out of his brain as he realizes that they are down a man. "Where did Morgan go?"

Emily turns back. "He went to find the ambulance."

"Alone?" you gape at her, reaching for the gun in your holster.

He figures they only have a few minutes before the cell signal returns, so he grabs his own gun and nods. "Let's head down."

The ambulance is gone when they find the bomber in the parking garage, holding a knife to his throat. Before any of you can approach him, he slits his own throat. He can't help the grimace of disgust that crosses his face as the terrorist falls to the ground.

Once the immediate danger to the hospital is alleviated, everyone starts to relax. The rest of the team stays behind to clear the scene as he sprints up to the seemingly empty surgical ward. He finds the operating room that Kate was supposed to be in, but when he pushes through the doors, all he sees is a few janitors mopping the blood off the floor.

"What happened?" he gasps out. "Where's the surgeon."

A man in a blue scrub cap comes forward and pats his shoulder, a resigned look on his face. "We did all that we could. I'm so sorry."

All of the momentum leaves his body as he releases his breath, his shoulders deflating along with it like a circus balloon. The surgeon leaves the room and he looks down at her blood seeping down the floor drain. He watches as it mixes in with the cleaning fluids, and he can't help but wish that her death could've been less painful.

***

You wait outside the hotel the next morning, your go-bag hanging heavily off your shoulder. When the doctors told Hotch he wasn't cleared to fly yet, you told the NY agent assigned to drive him that you could take over.

"What are you still doing here?"

You turn around to see Hotch walking out of the hotel, the bag in his left hand evening out his gait after the explosion gave him a temporary limp.

You smile, pushing your sunglasses down from your head. "I'm your ride."

His eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight. "You really didn't have to. The flight is much quicker."

"It's okay," you shrug, before grinning. "Besides, I would never pass up an opportunity to annoy you for three hours."

That makes him laugh, before he winces slightly. Got it. No jokes.

He doesn't complain as you take the driver's seat, and that's when it hits you how much pain he must be in. For as long as he's had his license, he has preferred to be the one driving, sometimes even when he's in your car.

The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, but eventually you need to fill the silence. "I'm really sorry about Kate."

"Thank you," he sighs, his eyes squinting at the sun as you pull onto the highway. "I've known her for a long time." He exhales sharply. "Knew her."

You remember him telling you about a case he worked, years ago, that took him to Scotland Yard. He had sounded almost excited as he recounted the differences in how the British government handled procedure, but he had kept one thing to himself.

"You never told me about her," you say gently, trying to keep the blame out of your voice. You're not angry, you just don't understand why it would have been a secret.

He turns his head to gaze out the window for a few moments, before he looks back at you. "I wasn't sure about how that case would go when I agreed to take a look, but we ended up working really well together. I had spoken to her a few times before, mostly over the phone, but it was our first time meeting in person. We caught the guy we were looking for in just a few days, so before I left, she invited me to join her team for dinner."

You can guess where this is going, but you let him finish, in case you're wrong.

"When she dropped me off at my hotel that night, she made a... suggestive remark that I would've ignored if the implication hadn't been so clear. I shut it down immediately, but I didn't tell Haley when I got back, and I guess I just felt so guilty about it that I couldn't bring myself to tell you either."

Hotch feeling guilty about something. There's a shocker.

You glance over at him with a small smile. "I get it."

The "Welcome to New Jersey" sign flies past as you cross the bridge, and you both sit in comfortable silence as the sun glints off the water and reflects onto the cars around you. You see him looking out the window, and you wonder if he's thinking about Haley again, but then he turns to you with a curious expression. "The unit chief job here is yours if you want it."

Do you want it? You know you like leadership, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about the possibility of moving up the ladder at some point, but now that you're confronted with the opportunity, it doesn't feel how you thought it would.

The thought of leaving this team, when they've become your second family, tastes bitter on your tongue. You know you could assume that other teams are like this too, but when you actually try to picture it, it doesn't feel possible.

"You can think about it," he says after a minute, "but not for long. They need a replacement ASAP."

You glance over at him and a realization clicks in your brain. "Wait, they needed your recommendation before offering me the position, didn't they?" You crack a smile. "You tryna get rid of me, boss?"

He laughs, before it turns into a small grimace from the pain. "No, of course I don't want you to leave. I just know you're destined for more than this. You could be doing so much good work, leading your own team."

The sun peeks out from behind the buildings in front of you, and you reach up to pull down the sun visor. "Maybe one day. But not today."

His eyes flit over to meet yours and you share a smile before you turn back to the wide expanse of road ahead of you.

***

You've been watching him all day. He was cleared to fly again, but you saw how pained he looked when the jet took off, and again when they exhumed Cortland's grave. The way he's been flinching back at the slightest sound, and cowering in pain after the louder screeches.

You tighten the strap of your kevlar vest and glance over at him again as he whispers something to the local sheriff on the Angel Maker copycat case. You've cornered the unsub in the latest victim's house, and Morgan got her out before she could be killed, but Emily continues to speak to the unsub through her megaphone, coaxing her out and into custody.

"It's over, Chloe," she says calmly as Morgan deposits the woman into the awaiting ambulance. "We have Faye. You have nowhere to go."

After a few moments, the front door creaks open and everyone lifts their weapons. She looks surprised when she sees the dozens of guns pointing at her, but then she lifts her own and Hotch steps in.

"Chloe, drop the gun."

The sheriff, with much less composure, jabs his weapon forward. "Damn it, lady, drop it!"

She takes a step forward and the sheriff fires, taking her down in one shot. Hotch goes down at the same time, doubling over in pain, his hands going up to cover his ears as he lets out a low groan.

As everyone else goes to Chloe, you rush to him, lifting your hands to press them over his in an attempt to help him hide from the external chatter and noises. "Aaron, it's okay, you're gonna be okay."

His body folds into yours as you wrap your arms around his head, clutching him to you, unable to help. "It's okay, it's okay."

It takes a few seconds for him to relax in your arms, and then a few more for him to remove his hands from his ears and stand up straight again.

"I'm okay," he sighs, his brow still furrowed with tension. "Thank you."

"Of course," you whisper, your chest heaving as the stress slowly seeps from your body. "You're not flying home."

He takes a deep breath before slowly dipping his chin into a nod. "It's a much longer drive. You don't have to accompany me this time."

The corner of your lip quirks up. "What makes you think I was offering?"

"Okay," he chuffs, rolling his eyes. You can still see the image of him doubling over in pain splashed across your eyelids, but you manage to push it out of your mind long enough to return his smile.

***

"Stand!"

You look up from the young girl you were interviewing with Emily and Spencer as Cyrus storms into the room with a gun, his second in command hot on his heels.

"What's going on?" Emily asks as she and Nancy Lunde, the state officer you came onto the cult compound with, stand up and approach him.

He squints, scrutinizing each of you. "We just got A very strange phone call from a news reporter. Is there anything you want to tell me, about a raid, maybe?"

You frown, genuine confusion coloring your expression as you shake your head. "We told you, we're child victim interview experts."

He takes another moment to consider your answer before nodding and instructing the man with him to lead you to the tunnels for safety while the raid continues.

You let Spencer, Emily and Nancy go ahead of you as the sounds of gunfire from the back get louder. When you reach the tunnels, they head further in to help the children take cover as Nancy turns back and gives you an earnest look. "I can talk to him."

You're shaking your head before she's done speaking. "No, you can't. It's too dangerous."

You try to grab her arm, but she rushes forward and past the small crowd of children that safely made it out of the school. You run after her as she calls out, "Mr. Cyrus, let me talk to them."

She's too close to the window. You reach forward to grab her arm and pull her back but then another round of gunshots fires off and she drops to the ground in front of you. You start to crouch down, out of the line of sight of the window, when a searing pain shoots through your abdomen. You keel over, falling forward into the wall of the chapel as you gasp out in pain.

It doesn't hurt as bad as it probably should, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins won't last forever. You press your hands against the bullet wound that ripped through the side of your abdomen, and try to calm your breathing as fear washes over you. The team knows you three are in here, they'll figure out how to get you all out.

You know the minimal loss scenario by heart, and the BAU was the one who wrote the CIRG playbook, so it's a small comfort to know that you'll be able to predict their moves. You can only hope that they will be able to predict yours just as well.

Another wave of pain shoots through your side and you grit your teeth as the adrenaline starts to wear off. They better hurry.

***

He knows he's emotionally involved. They all are, but if his people aren't the ones leading this negotiation, he won't be able to forgive himself for any outcome that doesn't end with the three of you coming out in one piece.

He's listening in as Dave speaks with Cyrus, and he can't help but notice how cavalier his tone is after his followers were just shot at. He continues to rant about the final battle he has foreseen, until Dave manages to get him back on track.

"Now, the four child services workers..." he says slowly. Hotch can hear the concern coloring his tone even as he tries to act detached.

Cyrus's voice is crisp over the line. "One of them is dead."

His heart jumps to his throat. Your face flashes in his mind and he closes his eyes as he silently begs whoever is out there for it not to be you. Not you, not Prentiss, not Reid. Please.

"Her name was Nancy Lunde."

His breath comes out like a gasp, and Dave turns to him with an equally relieved expression. He's so thankful that the guilt for wishing harm on anyone takes an extra second to take over.

But Cyrus isn't finished talking. "One of the other child service workers was shot during the same raid. Once again, by your people."

He looks up at Dave, waiting for him to ask who it was, but he doesn't have to. The next word out of Cyrus's mouth is your name, and his stomach twists with nausea and anguish even as he assures Dave that your wound has been cleaned and properly dressed.

He turns to look at the compound, as though he could see you if he squinted hard enough. Hold on, he thinks, hoping you can hear him somehow. You've always had a way of reading his mind. Please hold on.

***

You wake up on a small cot, with a woman bent over you. You hiss as she presses down the edge of the bandage on your abdomen, and you bring your chin to your chest to see the current state of your gunshot wound.

You're surprised to see the blood washed off, a clean bandage and gauze left in its place.

"You got lucky," the woman says when she realizes you're awake. "The bullet went all the way through."

"Thank you," you whisper, before turning your head to look around the room. "Where are the people I came in with?"

"I'll take you to them," she nods, reaching her hand out. You take it and let out an involuntary groan as she helps you into a standing position. You try taking a step, but another spike of pain shoots through you, so the woman latches her arm under your shoulder to help you walk.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually you get back to the main chapel, where Emily and Spencer are sitting with the rest of the followers. They turn when the doors open in front of you, and they immediately jump out of their chairs to take over for the woman helping you.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asks, his eyebrows pinching as he looks at you.

"I'm okay," you assure him, even as your vision blurs from the pain of having to walk so far. "Can we just sit down, though?"

"Of course," Emily nods, helping you sink into a chair. "I'll get you some water."

Spencer sits down next to you when she rushes off, and you don't miss how he keeps glancing down at your stomach.

"It'll be okay, Spence." He meets your eye and you nod again. "We know the playbook. We just have to follow it."

Emily returns with a water bottle that she opens and hands to you, and you chug half of it before setting it down. Hotch, please hurry, you think, wishing he could hear you.

***

The next morning, you wake up to a knock on the front door of the compound. You peel your eyes open and try to sit up, before remembering what happened the night before. Your skin feels wet as you run your fingers against the edge of the gauze, and you look down to see that you're bleeding through the dressings.

"Emily," you whisper, pushing her shoulder gently to shake her awake. "I need you to get the first aid kit again."

You feel more blood drip down your stomach, and your vision turns hazy for a moment, like a confirmation. She walks across the room to get the kit, and you almost forget about the knock on the door, until Cyrus opens it, revealing a stone-faced Rossi.

They shake hands as Emily removes your dressings before tearing open a new packet of gauze and pressing it into your wound.

"The children," Cyrus tells him, gesturing to the crowd. He then points at the three of you. "And our guests."

Rossi meets your eyes for a split second, and you make sure to keep your expression neutral as he nods and turns back to Cyrus. You're glad it's him who came inside, and not Hotch, because even though you want nothing more than to see him right now, you also don't want him to see you like this.

Rossi tries to get him to release the children, but he ends up leaving with nothing more than a promise to send food and supplies.

***

"Prentiss, Reid, and L/N are okay," Dave says as he jogs back to the tent outside. He turns to Hotch then. "She's been shot in the abdomen. They've tried to dress her wound, but she's losing blood."

Shit. He shuts his eyes as he tries to think about what he can do from out here to speed up the playbook.

"I have a signal!" Morgan beckons them over as he lifts a few sets of headphones for them to wear. With the bug Dave left on the compound, at least they have ears on the inside. It's not all he wants, but it's something, at least.

***

"Which one of you is it?"

Cyrus storms into the basement, where Spencer and Emily are sitting next to you as you lay down on the small cot from earlier. After Emily changed your bandages, Spencer managed to convince him to let you rest away from the followers.

"Which one of you is the FBI agent?"

Spencer jumps in before you can react. "Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?"

You haven't had the time or capacity to properly profile this man yet, so you don't know if his evasive tactic will work, but you also know he's smart enough to have thought this through.

Cyrus sighs, almost like he's disappointed. "God will forgive me for what I must do." He steps forward and points his gun at Spencer's head. You gasp, trying to keep a look of confusion on your face as you fight the urge to step in.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer says, stumbling over his words. His eyes are wide with fear, and you can't tell how much of it is real and how much is for show.

Cyrus tuts. "One of you does. Who is it?"

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract him, but then Emily stands up. "Me. It's me."

The moment of relief you feel when he lifts his gun from Spencer's head is gone as soon as he grabs Emily by the hair and drags her to the door. Your legs burn with the desire to leap off the cot and tackle him to the ground, but you can't move as the door shuts behind them.

***

It's almost night fall by the time Emily joins you again. You and Spencer were moved back up to the chapel after Cyrus took her away, and seeing her now, she looks awful.

Splotchy bruises of purple and blue paint her neck and chest, and there's dried blood on her temple and the corner of her mouth.

"Emily," you gasp, trying to control your expression so that Cyrus and his diehard followers don't think you know her as well as you do. You hate the feeling of letting her take the brunt of his punishment and blame, but it won't help to expose yourselves as agents too.

Spencer leans over you to get a better look at her. "Are you okay?"

She nods, flashing him a small smile. "Yeah, it looks worse than it feels." You can't imagine she's seen her reflection today, but you still appreciate her trying to relieve his stress.

Right then, the front door opens again and a shipment of food containers are carried inside. Men lift the boxes and bring them around the room to feed everyone inside, and when they set a box in front of you three, you notice a familiar scrawl of handwriting on top of the to-go container. 3AM. They're coming in at 3AM.

***

When the followers leave to go to bed, Cyrus takes Emily away again to separate her from you and the others. You fight the exhaustion pulling your eyes shut as you sit on the floor with your back against the wall. Spencer has been talking to Cyrus's second in command, trying to convince him that the Bible can be used to manipulate anything, but Cyrus catches on quickly.

You keep glancing at the door, hoping that Emily will find her way back up before 3AM hits, but as each minute ticks by, the idea becomes more futile.

You saw the diehard followers rigging the compound with explosives earlier in the night, and the detonator is clutched in Cyrus's hand like a lifeline. The irony doesn't escape you.

"Something's wrong," the follower reports, his eyes scanning the darkness outside through the window of the chapel.

Cyrus walks over to check, and you use the moment of distraction to lift the edge of your shirt and check your bandages. You're starting to bleed through the gauze again, but it's not bad enough that you need your dressings changed just yet.

When Cyrus realizes that he's been lied to, Spencer tries to distract him by spouting off verses at a rapid pace, but Cyrus just rams the butt of his rifle into his head, sending him to the ground.

"You cannot convert my brothers," Cyrus says before hitting him again. You crawl over to him, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, and clutch his arm for some semblance of comfort. Cyrus looks down at the both of you, his eyes squinting. "No one had to follow. God could have stopped me."

"He just did."

There's a gunshot, and you whip your head around to see Morgan and a young girl racing out of the tunnel before he crouches beside you. "You two alright?"

You nod, reaching your arm up to let him help you into a standing position. "Where's Emily?"

"We got her out of here," he explains, before turning to the girl. "Sweetheart, come with me."

She looks at each of you, her face twisted with panic, before bending down and picking up the detonator from where Cyrus dropped it. Your eyes widen and you yank Spencer in front of you before pushing him down the tunnel. "Run!"

Derek wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding half of your weight as you both sprint down the tunnel after Spencer. You're almost outside when the explosion goes off, pushing you to your knees with a strong gust of air and smoke.

***

He yells out your name as the blast engulfs the compound. His throat feels ragged as he yells out for Reid and Morgan too, but he can't see anything until three figures stand up from the plume of smoke and stumble down the steps.

He rushes up, meeting you halfway as you collapse from Morgan's arms into his. He grabs onto you as your knees buckle, and he manages to pull you towards him before you hit the ground.

He can't breathe as he clutches you to him, trying to be mindful of your wounds. Your breath comes out in gasps that mix in with his own as he sags with relief that you're here, back in his arms, where he can keep you safe.

He pulls back when he sees the paramedics approaching, and it's only then that he finally gets a good look at you. Your skin is gaunt, and his heart thuds loudly in his ears as he sees you wince in pain.

When they load you into an ambulance, his feet finally start working again and he races after you. "I'm coming with you."

You nod as he climbs through the doors and you reach your hand out over the side of the gurney. Your fingers feel cold when he clasps your hand in his, and he syncs his breaths with the sound of the sirens as your eyes fall closed.

***

The first thought that goes through your head when you wake up is that it's too bright. You squint as your eyes peel open, and in the few moments it takes for them to adjust to the light, a chorus of quiet 'she's awake's filter around the hospital room.

"How are you feeling?" JJ asks, stepping closer to stand at your bedside.

"You gave us a real scare, Mama," Penelope adds with a gentle smile.

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat is so dry, no sound comes out. Emily darts forward to grab the cup of water on the counter, and you glance over to see the yellowing bruises on her cheekbones.

After a few sips, you clear your throat and say, "I'm good. How long was I out?"

"Just a day," Derek responds from the foot of your bed, where he's standing with Spencer and Penelope.

Spencer chimes in. "You got out of surgery a few hours ago, and the doctors said you can go home tomorrow morning."

You nod slowly, stretching out your arms and legs to test the limits of your mobility. When you push yourself up into a sitting position, it doesn't hurt as much as it did on the compound.

"Ah, you're awake," Rossi smiles as he joins you all in the hospital room. It's not exactly huge, so everyone has to stand to make room, but it still doesn't escape your notice that someone is missing.

You return Rossi's smile before glancing over at the door, trying to see if he's just outside. Noticing your gaze, Spencer walks forward and takes your hand, giving it a small squeeze. "He's on the phone with your father. I think he got a flight for tomorrow morning."

You exhale slowly and take another sip of water. "Thank you." He nods and moves to release your hand, but you grip it tighter, holding him back. "Seriously, Spence, thank you." You turn to Emily, who is on the other side and her eyes shine, reflecting the tears in yours. "That whole operation sucked, but I'm really glad you two were in there with me."

She lets out a watery laugh and bends down to press an kiss to your temple. "I'm glad you're okay."

When you start fading again, the team leaves with promises to see you back at work in a month, and you close your eyes to get a break from the harsh fluorescent lighting.

***

"Alright," he says into his phone, nodding. "We'll see you in the morning, Mr. L/N. Yes, she's doing a lot better...okay, good, see you soon."

He ends the call and tucks his phone back into his pocket, before walking over to the vending machine at the end of the hall to grab a few of your favorite snacks. He loads up on chips and pop tarts before heading back up the hallway to your room. When he reaches the door, he realizes that the rest of the team has left, so he steps inside quietly and takes a seat in the small plastic chair next to your bed, before gently setting the snacks on your bedside table.

Your eyes are closed and he figures you must have just fallen asleep, so he crosses his arms over his chest and just sits there, watching you. Your face is covered in little scrapes from the explosion, and you still look a bit ashy, but you somehow still do look beautiful. This isn't the first time he has thought this - it was more of a recurrent notion when you were younger - but he can't deny that you're just objectively a beautiful person. But then again, he's not sure if beauty is ever really objective (eye of the beholder and all that), so he pushes the thought aside and turns back to you.

His thoughts are interrupted when his phone chirps with a text message. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checks the name and sees that Haley has arrived at the hospital. He had called her after you went into surgery, knowing that she would kill him if he didn't keep her constantly updated on your condition.

When he finds her at the end of the hall, she pulls him into a quick side hug that's slightly barred by Jack, who is clutching onto her tightly. He can imagine how scary the hospital looks to a three year old boy.

"Hi, bud," he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, before looking at Haley again. "She's sleeping, but I'll take you to her room."

"She's alright, Aaron." Haley is looking at him like she's worried he may break down, and it makes him wonder what his expression looks like right now. Ever since you got out of surgery, he has felt a weight lifted off his chest, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know if he feels all that much lighter at all.

But he doesn't want to say any of that out loud. Nodding, he cocks his head at the other end of the hall and leads her to your room, where you are blinking your eyes open again.

"Oh, sweetheart," Haley coos, adjusting Jack on her hip and walking over to your bedside. "I hope we didn't wake you up?"

You shake your head with a smile, but he can tell you're lying. You look exhausted, and he can see you periodically glancing at the light on the ceiling to keep your eyes alert.

"Well, hello," you grin at Jack as you carefully push yourself up into a sitting position. "How's my little Jack-o-lantern doing?"

His mouth twitches and he reaches his arms out as he lets out a loud, "Good!" You reach forward slowly, likely testing the limits of your mobility, and take him from Haley, who hands him off with a concerned look on her face.

"Be careful, baby," she tells Jack, before stepping back and crossing her arms. "Aunt Y/N is a little fragile today."

To his credit, Jack just slumps down into your arms, absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair as you turn to Hotch. "Reid said you called my dad?"

He nods, taking a deep breath. "He'll be here in the morning. I assured him you were just fine, but he wants to stay here for a bit to keep an eye on you."

"That's okay," you shrug, much to his relief. After your last conversation about your father, he wasn't sure where you stood and how far he was allowed to push. "It'll be nice to have some company while I'm off for the next two weeks."

"Two months," he corrects with a stern look.

"One."

"Fine." The only reason he relents so quickly is because he knows how quickly he would be back at work if he was in your position. "But I'm limiting your field work until you're more healed."

You nod after a second. "I'll take it."

Haley huffs out a laugh and looks at him with an expression he remembers from their marriage. Affection with a hint of exasperation.

"Alright, you two," she smiles, reaching for Jack again. His entire fist is tangled in your hair at this point, but you don't seem to mind. "I should get him to bed. It's already past his bedtime."

You nod and hand him back, before letting her envelope you in a warm hug that you settle yourself into. "Love you, Hales. Thanks for coming by."

"Love you too, honey."

***

Haley leaves with Jack, and you slump down in the bed, feeling tired, but no longer sleepy.

"I can head out too," Hotch says quickly, reaching for his coat, "if you want to sleep."

You shake your head, and he drops his arm immediately, as though he was just looking for an excuse to stay. The thought makes you smile and his brow pinches in confusion. What's on your mind?

"I'm just glad I met you." You reach for his hand he takes it, giving it a soft squeeze, before taking a seat in the chair beside you.

"I brought you some snacks from the vending machine," he points out, glancing over at the pile he made on your table. "I got your favorites...at least out of what they had."

You grin, feeling your chest fill with warmth as you take in the assortment. "Sunchips and cinnamon pop tarts. You remembered."

"Of course," he shrugs. "You're the only person I know, other than my three year old son, who still eats pop tarts."

You make a face, swatting your hand at him, but he's just out of reach. "It's not my fault toddlers have great taste."

He chuckles as you tear open one of the packages and break off a piece. The buttery, sweet taste brings you back to your childhood when your mom was still alive. She would wake you up with two brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts before school, the sweet smell enough to drag you out of bed at eight in the morning.

"What are you thinking about?"

You look up with a smile, your gaze wistful as the memory slowly fades away. "My mom, actually. I don't have a ton of memories of her, but sometimes the most random thing will trigger an emotion or a memory that I forgot I had."

He nods, his eyes thoughtful. "Like the taste of pop tarts."

"Exactly." You break off another piece and toss it into your mouth, before setting the package back on the table. "Last week it was the smell of this perfume I found at the back of my dresser. It wasn't even the exact scent she would wear, it just had the same base notes."

Your voice trails off, and he looks at you, giving you a moment before speaking up. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember her funeral," you say without thinking, before realizing that it's not a lie. You know that grief is weird, that people usually remember everything or nothing, but for some reason, the funeral only comes back to you in pieces. Your dad crying silently, Hotch holding your hand, your dress being too small on you. You wore it anyway, because she had picked it out for you at the store a couple of years before. "I remember you holding me up."

His eyes flash with something that resembles amusement and he purses his lips. "I remember feeling the opposite. I knew I was supposed to be there for you, but somehow, it felt like you were the one holding both of us up that day."

You shrug, realizing the details don't mean anything. "All I really needed was for someone to hold onto."

He nods and that's when your mind flashes back to New York last month. "Did you go to Kate's funeral?"

"No," he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Her family flew her back to London to have it there, and I couldn't take any time off."

You want to apologize, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. "I'm sorry for how I acted in New York."

You frown, but he just shakes his head. "I don't really know why I was trying so hard to protect her. I guess after the close call with Strauss last year, I was less sympathetic to bureau politics, but I still shouldn't have taken it out on you. I should've been protecting you too."

His words are tinged with self-contempt, and you find yourself wanting to take away his guilt even though you were hurt by how he treated you during that case. But that's how the two of you work. The protective instincts don't go away just because one of you is angry at the other.

You remember prom night all those years ago, when he was so peeved at you for convincing him to ask Haley to the dance, even though they had just started talking. She had freaked out and said no, so he was forced to take another girl who asked him after the fact (of which there were many), while you went with Kyle Martinez, who had been showing interest in you for a while. You knew your feelings for Hotch definitely weren't just platonic anymore, but he was into Haley, and he was also Hotch, so you had pushed it aside and gone to the prom with Kyle.

You had spotted Hotch the moment he walked into the ballroom that the school had turned into a Gatsby-themed prom venue. He commanded everyone's attention, and you certainly weren't immune, but you had your own date, so you ignored your best friend and danced with Kyle.

As the night wore on, he had grown bored and asked you if you wanted to get out of there and go somewhere quiet, but you weren't exactly experienced back then.

"I'm okay," you had whispered, trying to maintain your smile. "I'd rather just stay at the dance."

You can still remember the change in his expression when he saw you glance at Hotch, as though it was just yesterday. "What, are you into him or something? You seriously think he'd fuck you?"

You hadn't been able to help it as tears flooded your eyes, and before you knew it, Hotch was standing in front of you, glaring down your date as he asked if you were okay.

"Everything's fine," Kyle had sneered, trying to get around him. "Butt out of our business, Hotch."

He looked at you again. Do you want me to go?

You shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek, and before you had time to blink, his fist was swinging. There was a horrible thump as his fist collided with Kyle's cheekbone, sending him stumbling backwards from the force of the hit.

You couldn't move as Kyle swung back, trying to shove him down, but he didn't budge. He could take physical aggression better than most guys his age, but that didn't make this okay.

"Hotch, please," you had pleaded as he landed another punch. The sound of your voice must had cut through the fog, because he looked up then, unaware of the bruises on his knuckles. You helped him up, and the two of you watched as his date stormed out of the ballroom.

Presently, you look at him sitting in his chair and crack a small smile. "Do you remember prom night?"

He groans and you laugh lightly, being careful not to tear the stitches in your side.

"You never actually told me what that asshole did to you." His tone is light, but you can hear the genuine question underneath.

"It was so long ago," you shrug after a beat. "I don't even remember."

***

Your dad arrives at the hospital early the next morning right before you're discharged. The papers are quick, and by the time the sun has risen fully, you are being taken to his car in a wheelchair, despite your best efforts to refuse.

"I can walk!"

"I don't care."

"Dad, come on."

He frowns down at you. "I drove up here to be of use to you. Let me be of use."

You huff in frustration as he wheels you beside his car, and you try to get up on your own, but you twist the wrong way. You gasp out in pain as one of your stitches pulls and your dad immediately comes around to assist you.

"I hate your job," he grumbles, taking your arm to help you into the passenger seat. "If I had my way, you'd be working out of an office cubicle."

"I know, Dad," you soothe, turning your head back to smile at him. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, sweetie."

The drive to your house is quick, and he takes your arm again when you get out to help you inside. Once you're laying down on the couch, you insist that you don't need any more concessions, but he doesn't sit down in your armchair until after he has brought you a glass of water and a blanket.

"Dad, I'm fine, really." He doesn't look convinced, so you paste on your brightest smile, and he finally cracks, smiling back at you. "What do you want to do today?" you ask him.

"Wha- do today?" he sputters. "You need to rest, young lady. I'm not letting you leave this couch until you head up for bed tonight."

You can tell he's serious about this, so you sink back into your pillows with a sigh and grab the tv remote. "What do you want to watch then?"

He leans back in his armchair and brings his palm to his face: his thinking expression. "What's on?"

You click on the television, and the first channel it opens up to is playing a rerun of Breaking Bad. Neither of you seem interested in watching it, so you keep flipping through the channels, but after 20 minutes of mindless surfing, you eventually end up back on Breaking Bad.

"We could just play it in the background," you suggest with a shrug, "while we talk."

"Sure," he agrees, placing his hands on each armrest.

Two hours later, your eyes are glued to the television after having watched three episodes.

"We should probably do something else," Dad suggests at the next ad break. "All of this meth production is rotting my brain."

"Yeah," you agree, taking your time to reach for the remote before clicking the tv off and tossing the remote aside. "We can have lunch in the kitchen..."

"Nice try," he chuckles, before standing up. "Aaron is coming by with takeout soon, and you can eat that right from here."

He had been coming by a lot after your movie night a few months ago, and while hanging out with your best friend isn't an anomaly, it does reinforce the reminder that neither of you have anyone to go home to at the end of the night.

It's another half hour by the time he shows up, Thai takeout in hand, and by then you're starving.

"Thanks for bringing food," you say genuinely after your dad lets him inside the house. "I was worried I would have to live off Dad's cooking for a week."

"Very funny," he says with an eye roll. "But yes, thank you, Aaron."

"Of course," Hotch says simply, before handing your dad a fork and napkin. "I'm also hoping to convince Y/N to take more time off."

"Not fair!" you complain, feeling like you're reverting to your high school self with your dad and best friend sitting across from you. "I'm not starting field work for a couple of months. I just want to come in soon to meet the new press liaison."

"Is JJ leaving?" Dad asks as he takes a bite of green curry with rice.

"Just temporarily," Hotch says, reaching for the pad kee mao container. You nod, chiming in, "She's due in a couple of months, so she's gonna start training someone soon to take over while she's gone."

"Is she still with that cop from...where was it again?"

"New Orleans," you answer with a laugh. "Yeah, she and Will are still together."

You can feel the conversation getting dangerously close to (ex) spouses, so you steer your father away from the topic by having him try all of the food Hotch brought. He ends up staying for a couple of hours as he explains some of the more tame cases you've handled to your dad, who actually seems interested in the finer details of each profile.

Eventually, he heads home, with the explanation that he has Jack that night, and you say good night to your dad before heading up for bed. You cover the stitches with plastic the way the doctors instructed you to before taking a fast shower and getting into your bed.

You can hear the sound of your father's quiet snores from the guest room down the hall, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine that you're back in your childhood home, sleeping in your pink and purple bedroom after spending the day with your best friend.

***

It takes a lot of convincing, but at the end of the month, your dad drops you off at work before making his drive back home. Emily had called you before the team's plane took off, and you timed it right so that you'd get to the office just as they arrived.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you hear a loud conversation happening between Morgan and Prentiss just before they spot you from the bullpen.

"Y/N!" Emily grins, rushing forward to give you a hug. "How's the healing process been?"

"I feel a lot better," you tell her with a smile as you pull back and drop your bag next to your desk.

"You look a lot better," she nods, before Derek grabs you and pulls you in for a surprisingly gentle bear hug.

"You look great," he says, grinning at you. "Are you cleared to come back to work?"

"Not field work," you sigh, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "I'm just here to turn in some paperwork and then I'm stuck to my desk for a few more weeks."

Derek takes the files from your hand and tosses them on your desk before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "You should come out and get burgers with Prentiss and me."

"Tempting," you say, "but I just came by to meet-"

"Hey guys," JJ calls out from the hallway. "I want to introduce you to someone."

She walks up to you all with another woman by her side. "This is Agent Jordan Todd. She'll be taking over for me while I'm on maternity leave."

You grin, clasping your hands together in front of you as she smiles sheepishly at all of you. "Agent Jareau's told me so much about you all."

She turns to Emily first. "You must be Agent Prentiss."

"Yes," she smiles, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Spencer walks up at that moment and Agent Todd nods at him. "Hello, Dr. Reid."

He waves back, and she then looks at you. You reach out first to shake her hand and she smiles. "Agent L/N, I presume?" When you nod, she takes your hand. "I heard about the cult incident."

"Yeah," you let out a laugh. "Incident is definitely a word for it."

Derek drops his arm from your shoulder and Jordan turns to him with a cheeky grin that piques your interest. "And Agent Morgan. Nice to see you again."

He nods, not giving anything away. "Nice to see you, too. So, this must be the good news."

"This would be my brownie."

Emily frowns, pointing between the two of then. "Uh, you two have met?"

Derek doesn't turn away from her. "Briefly."

JJ shoots him a look before steering Jordan away to meet the rest of the team, and you and Emily turn to Derek with matching expressions. "What was that about?"

"I met her at a coffee shop this morning," he explains, rubbing a hand over his face. "She knew my name then, and I guess this is how."

"JJ's about to pop," Emily says, glancing at you with a small smirk. "Looks like it's about to get interesting at the BAU."

***

Your first case back in the field takes you to Atlanta, where Vanessa Holden was murdered after going home with a man she met on a night out clubbing. Jordan briefs you all on the details back in the office before you get on the plane.

You're still not used to JJ being gone, and you heard all about Jordan's drive from Hotch when he came by your house with dinner periodically over your bureau-mandated leave, but you don't want to make any judgments before getting to know her yourself.

You sit across from Hotch on the plane, and you don't miss the way his eyes follow each of your movements from the second you sit down. Your bandages are still on, but you've regained almost all of your mobility.

As the jet takes off, you lean forward slightly to adjust the back of your blazer, and his gaze shoots to you, his brow furrowing with concern.

You flash your eyes at him, cutting the tension with a small smirk. I'm fine, I promise.

He squints slightly, scrutinizing your expression for a moment, before letting out an inscrutable sigh and turning back to the case file.

When you land in Atlanta, you start off at the police department with Hotch, Morgan, and Todd, and her continued insistence on being the first to meet with the local officials and debrief them surprises you, given JJ's more subtle nature when working with those who call your team in.

The local police let you know that the Holden family has stopped cooperating with their investigation, but the four of you head over to their home to try and speak with her mother and sister one last time. Jordan gets you in the house by sharing a story about her older sister who passed away, and you find yourself feeling awful about your misjudgment of her, until you notice the look of Hotch's face.

"Did you know that about Jordan?" you ask, trying to understand why he looks so miffed.

"No," he says simply, his brow pinched together, "and neither did she. According to her file, she's an only child."

You flash your eyes at Derek.

The conversation gets you a basic profile of the unsub, based on the cocky way he held himself with Vanessa and the way he was dressed when approaching her at the club, but when the moment you exit her home, Hotch corners Jordan on the driveway.

"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister," he fumes. "Where did you get that?"

She has the gall not to look ashamed, and you can't decide if you respect her resolve or detest her lack of responsibility. "Some of it was online, and some of it was an educated guess based on birth order."

"A guess."

You practically wince and Derek stares at her, as though trying to hypnotically get her to backtrack.

She looks down then, and he delivers the kicker. "And in the process you lied."

You step forward to insert yourself in the conversation (for what purpose, you don't yet know), but Jordan just stands up straighter, ready to defend herself. "That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport."

Hotch doesn't back down, and as his brow locks into place, you step back again. "I don't know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don't make it a habit to lie to get the job done."

"I got you in the door, didn't I?" she spits out one last time. It's both, you realize. Respect and distaste.

"Not only do you represent the FBI, you represent this team."

He shakes his head, and you cock your head at Derek, gesturing for him to head back to the car. You hear the tail end of their conversation as you yank open the passenger side door.

"From now on, everything goes through me."

Jordan gets saved by the literal bell as his phone rings, and when he steps away to answer it, she comes back to the SUV and gets in the back. "So, how bad did I just screw up?"

Derek heaves out a sigh, looking at her with his characteristic stoicism mixed with compassion. "On a normal scale of one to ten, I'd say a six."

He glances at you and you press your lips together. "But on Hotch's scale...an 11."

She rubs a hand over her face and you turn back to face the front, watching as Hotch paces back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear. He doesn't look up until he's back in the SUV.

***

The profile becomes clear when a new victim emerges: an unsub with a possible scar or birthmark above his left eye, who went to a class for pickup artists. After doing some researching with Garcia, Emily returns with a flyer for a man named Viper that makes your stomach twist.

You, Morgan, and Hotch join her at one of his classes later that day, and it takes everything in you not to sneer in disgust as he describes his approach to meeting women.

"This is the jungle, my friends," Viper finishes off, lifting his hands in the air theatrically, "and your prey wants to be caught."

You and Hotch share a look, and he raises his eyebrows as you cringe. What, not a fan?

You shove his shoulder with yours, but it's not hard enough to actually make him budge. Hilarious.

"Will you listen to that language?" Emily whispers from next to you. "He's training serial killers."

"Great," Derek sighs. "We're dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who's turned himself into a snake oil salesman."

Hotch nods. "That's one more thing he has in common with our unsub."

The class ends soon after, and you get the distinct pleasure of meeting Viper in the flesh. When he approaches the four of you, he makes a clear effort to keep eye contact with only the men, likely trying to use his self-prescribed techniques to make you and Emily feel vulnerable. Instead, it just makes you want to laugh in his face.

"So you think this- what did you call him- unsub, took my class?"

He raises his eyebrows at Emily then, in what you can only hope is meant to be a seductive nature, and she practically snorts. Using his clear attraction to her to the team's advantage, she steps forward and takes control of the conversation. By the time she's finished, she has managed to secure his location for later tonight, and get him just flustered enough that a chance meeting later would have him ready to divulge anything she wants to hear.

'Please tell me we are not giving up on that guy." Emily heaves out a breath as you all walk back outside after speaking with Viper. She was just talking to him, but she looks like she's ready to take another shower.

Hotch flashes his eyes with uncharacteristic mirth. "We're just getting started."

***

His eyes keep darting back to the door of the locker room. Prentiss is going undercover at Club Aqua to get more information about the unsub from Viper, and when she suggested that you and Agent Todd join her, he couldn't think of a good enough reason to quash her idea.

He knows he's been hard on Todd. He figured it out on his own, even with your furtive glances from the passenger side of the SUV after leaving the Holden household.

He wishes he could say it all came from a place of protecting bureau leadership, but he knows that isn't completely true. It's been almost two weeks since he last saw Jack, and every time he drops him back at Haley's, that feeling settles back in his gut, like clockwork. The feeling that tells him he's just like his father.

The locker room door flies open and he averts his eyes, trying to maintain some level of subtlety, but it's only Prentiss and Todd. Where are you?

His unspoken question is answered when Prentiss announces that you told them to get started without you. He's still worried that you're not ready for this kind of assignment so early in your return to field work, so, before he can regret it, he stalks forward and pushes open the door.

The regret immediately comes when he sees your bare back, underneath your unzipped dress, on the far end of the locker room.

"Oh, sorry," he blinks, turning his head back. "I didn't realize-"

He moves to shut the door again, but you look over your shoulder and raise your hand, beckoning him inside. "Wait, I could actually use your help."

He steps through the door and crosses over to you, where you turn your back to him after a small glance. "Zip me up?"

The bottom of the zipper is at the small of your back, and he tries to avoid touching you as he pulls it up to the base of your shoulder blades. He isn't able to avoid it completely, and he tries to ignore the heat of your skin as he drops the zipper and nods. "All set."

You turn around and he forgets to step back in time, leaving you only a few inches from him as you glance up with a confused smile. "You okay?"

He nods again, stepping back and clearing his throat. Why is his skin burning? "I should be asking you that. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm getting the bandages taken off later this week," you tell him, partly misunderstanding his concern. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

That's definitely a lie, but he allows it for now. "That's not all I'm talking about. You haven't been in the field in months. I just worry that I'm tossing you into the deep end on your first day back."

"I'm fine," you insist, reaching out to put your hand on his forearm. "I would have refused the assignment if I didn't think I could handle it."

He's not sure if he believes that either, but in this case, the assignment itself seems odious enough that he can let it slide. "Okay. Are you ready to head out there?"

"Yeah, just one second."

He waits as you pull a thin necklace from your bag and clasp it around your neck. When it's attached, you spin around with a goofy smile. "How do I look?"

"Amazing," he says without thinking. "I mean- you look great, of course."

You just smile at him, before patting his shoulder and walking out the door to meet the Prentiss and Todd at the club. Your hair brushes past him as you leave, and the scent of your perfume lingers in the air behind you, a flowery aroma that persists even when the door swings shut.

***

Emily waves at you when you approach her and Jordan in a crowded part of the club. "Y/N, I'm sure you remember Viper. God's gift to women."

You smile at him sweetly, before glancing at her. "Sure hope he came with a receipt."

"Another friend," Viper says, letting out a weak laugh.

Emily uses this moment of distraction to pounce. "You promised if I met you on your turf, you'd show me something special. So...let's see it."

He starts spouting off some nonsense about chemical signals, and you're about to take Jordan's arm and pull her aside to give Emily some room, when Viper turns to you with a mock-sincere expression. "Does the boss man you're out here, with me?"

You turn back with a frown. "Excuse me?"

For a moment, you forget to mask your emotions and he practically grins as his bravado grows. "What I do for a living is pretty similar to what you all do. I read people...and from what I could tell during your little ambush of my class earlier, there's something going on between you and the supervisor."

You let out a laugh that feels surprisingly forced as it leaves your throat. "I really can't believe there are people out there who pay you for assessments like that, because you're dead wrong."

He shrugs, looking back at Emily, and you roll your eyes at him before turning away under the guise of giving them some space. When you're out of his line of sight, you let out a breath that was caught in your chest. You know you and Hotch are closer than most friendships are at your age, and you're not unaccustomed to people reading more into it than there is, so you're not sure why Viper's words feel like a fist around your gut.

"Hey, you okay?" You turn back to see Jordan approaching you with a glass of water. "He's really trying everything to get under our skin."

You accept the glass gratefully, and swallow a few gulps, before nodding. "Thank you. I think I just needed some air. I forgot how stuffy these clubs get."

"I hear that." She laughs and you feel your chest loosen with relief that she didn't believe Viper's insinuation. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm almost excited to get back into my work clothes."

You let out a breathy chuckle, before sending her back to keep an eye on Emily as she works on breaking Viper. Later that night, when you get back to the station to meet up with the rest of the team, you excuse yourself early to head to the hotel, and you allow yourself to pretend, just this once, that you weren't avoiding him, and you really were just tired.

***

You're sitting in your car in front of the hospital at seven in the morning, because you didn't want to take any work off just to get your bandages removed. You know this is likely the exact sort of thing the bureau mandates time off for, but a small part of you didn't want anyone knowing you were coming here. Or maybe you just didn't want him to know.

You haven't been trying to avoid him. You may be a little embarrassed by how far under your skin Viper got with his one little comment, but you can't help it. The notion stirred something you don't recognize inside of you and you don't want to take the time to think through it.

You take a deep breath and get out of your car, before walking into the hospital and checking in for your appointment. When you called to secure a time slot, the nurse mentioned that, barring any complications, the appointment shouldn't take more than half an hour.

You're a few minutes early, so you sit in the waiting area, flipping through a fashion magazine from the table next to you. After a minute, you're so engrossed in a page about returning trends that you don't realize he is sitting next to you until he taps the side of your foot with his own.

"Oh shit," you blurt out when you see him, more out of surprise than the shame of being caught. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"Garcia saw it in your calendar and told me." You turn to look at him with mock-exasperation, but you're caught off guard by the genuine hurt in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me the appointment was today? I could've driven you."

You open your mouth to come up with an excuse, but all that comes out is, "I don't know." He doesn't look convinced, but the doctor calls your name then and you stand up, pressing your lips together. "Will you come with me?"

He stands up immediately, without another word, and you both follow the doctor into a back room, where she proceeds to remove your bandages and check where you are in the healing process. The wound is closed, and is almost entirely scarred over, but she recommends that you continue to take it easy - a point which you see Hotch take mental note of immediately - and limit excessive physical activity.

"The wound is healing very nicely," the doctor says as you walk back to the front. "Give me a call if anything changes, but as long as you keep applying the salve, there shouldn't be a permanent scar."

You thank her before she heads back to meet with another patient, and Hotch holds the front door open for you as you walk out into the parking lot.

"Thank you for coming," you tell him earnestly, "even though I didn't ask you to. I should've told you."

He exhales through his nose, bumping your shoulder. "Yeah, you should have."

He loops his arm through yours as you step off the curb and you lean your head on his shoulder for a second before unlocking your car. You were stupid to let Viper's words get to you. He's your best friend.

He's your best friend, and you love him.

***

One of the first happy memories at the office in a long time comes in the form of JJ coming in with baby Henry. It feels like a welcome relief to see her face back in the bullpen, and for a few peaceful moments, everything feels like it's back to normal.

You know firsthand how much this job takes from people, and Jordan's absence in the office now doesn't go unnoticed, even with a sweet baby boy here to take your mind off of it.

Is this my fault?

Rossi had tried to talk her down after discovering that the unsub had killed his entire family in their home, seemingly after her press release, but sometimes the words aren't enough.

I'm not sure I can do this job.

There had been so much anguish in her voice as she admitted to Rossi that she wasn't cut out for this line of work, but no part of you judged her for it. A bigger piece of you almost envied her ability to recognize that she was in over her head - that she couldn't keep going like this.

Looking at JJ now though, you feel a sense of hope again, like maybe this job doesn't take everything from you.

"I thought you could use a surprise," she smiles, cradling Henry in her arms under a swath of blankets.

"He's beautiful," you whisper, stepping in closer to get a better look at his little scrunched-up face.

Penelope comes back into the room with a freshly warmed up bottle of milk, and JJ starts to feed him as everyone leans closer in wonder. "I wanted us to have at least one good memory to hold onto in this room."

Before you can react, Derek is pushing past you and Spencer. "Excuse me, kid. Um, JJ, can I..."

He points to the bundle in her arms and she looks at him with a soft grin. "Of course."

She carefully transfers Henry into his arms as all of the women worriedly chime in with reminders and comments on his form.

"You gotta hold his head up."

"Careful, you're smothering him!"

"I got it," Derek chuffs, before rocking Henry in his arms. "Look at that, what's he doing? He's smiling at Derek Morgan."

Penelope and Emily share a look. "Gas."

He shoots them a pointed glare, before grabbing the bottle from Garcia's hand and feeding Henry himself. "Hey, little man."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face as you step back to give them some room. Your shoulder bumps into Hotch as you step around JJ, and you look back at him, noticing the little curve of his lips. "You're smiling."

He glances over at you with an eye roll. "Gas."

***

"What's up, Hotch?"

You roll over and turn your bedside lamp on as you press your cellphone to your ear. The alarm clock beside you says it's just past five in the morning.

"We have a case."

You frown, pushing yourself up. "Wouldn't JJ usually call us to come in?"

"This one's different." His voice sounds slightly muffled and his tone is colored by a familiar tinge of irritation. "Dallas AG called me last night to come down here, and it looks like they may have a serial."

"You went alone?" you ask, trying to blink the grogginess from your eyes as you get out of bed. You are distinctly aware of how many questions you're asking, but your brain is still fuzzy from being woken up.

"Yeah," he says simply, before you hear someone call his name from the other end of the line. "I convinced them to bring the team in as well. Anyway, I have to go, but I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, see you-" The line cuts and you sigh, tossing the phone down.

So much for a full night of rest.

***

Spencer briefs all of you on female serial killers on the flight over, and once you land, Hotch is waiting at the hotel. You drop your things off in your room and meet with him, Rossi, and Morgan to head over to the location of the latest crime scene, when another man is murdered.

"Victim was Joseph Fielding," Rossi explains when you enter the office building. "He was CFO here."

"Poisoned?" you clarify.

"And staged," Morgan adds, glancing over the body. This time, the victim was left out in the open, naked and tied up. There's no way the company can keep the media away from this one.

"Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?"

You turn around to see a man in a fancy suit stalking towards the four of you. You step back to let Hotch get around you, and he approaches the man with a frown. "I'm Hotchner."

"Larry Bartlett," he introduces himself. "I represent Mr. Fielding and Webster Industries."

Hotch angles himself to stand between the man and the body. "This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett."

"I spoke to Ellen Daniels," he explains, his eyes glinting with over-confidence. "She said you're a very reasonable man."

You resist the urge to snort as Hotch moves to get the attention of the police officers nearby. "Escort him out, please."

"No, wait! The press is outside, and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?"

This time it's you who frowns. "We're not about to lie for you."

"Don't have to lie," he says, gesturing with his hands as though that will help his case. "Just don't comment."

Hotch looks at him for a moment, before excusing himself and pulling the rest of you aside. "Is there any reason to go public yet?"

Rossi shrugs. "Validating her is exactly what she wants. If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake."

You almost smile. "He doesn't need to know that."

Hotch meets your eye for a beat before spinning around and putting his lawyer face back on. "We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails...everything."

***

When Penelope uncovers that the victims have all been withholding child support from their ex-wives, Hotch meets with the city's high-profile corporate lawyers to present the profile. You're not sure how helpful this will be, given that their primary motive is to protect their clients' companies, but it proves useful when one of the lawyers reveals that the unsub may have a penthouse to her name.

The apartment is massive. You walk around the living area, trying to find anything the unsub may have left out, but she has clearly been covering her tracks.

When you don't find anything by the bedroom, you head over to the walk-in closet where Derek and Emily are poking around her jewelry box.

"Hey, Prentiss," Derek suddenly says, lifting up a leather bodysuit and holding it in front of her. "Got a whip?"

Rolling your eyes, you smack the top of his head with the evidence baggy in your hands and walk back out to find Hotch. He's poring over her antique book collection when suddenly the apartment phone starts to ring.

You all argue for a few moments over who should take the call, and Derek quickly alerts Garcia to trap-and-trace it, before it soon goes to voicemail.

"Hi, it's me," the woman's voice says brightly in the voicemail message. "You know what to do." There's a beep, and then her voice comes back, more present this time. "Aaron."

Your eyes snap over to him, but he's still looking at the phone.

"I know you're up there," she continues. "Aaron Hotchner."

He reaches forward and carefully lifts the phone with his gloved hand. He walks over to the window as he presses it to his ear. "I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours."

You bend down and press the speaker button on the main console as he moves across the room.

"I thought I could trust you, Aaron." Her voice is tight over the line, the tiny speakers still enough to amplify the emotion in her voice. She sounds so...disappointed.

"Who says you can't?" he responds slowly, clearly testing the range of her emotion.

"I want to," she says quietly. "I even looked you up online. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings...and for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world."

You remember that presentation. There had been a shooting at an elementary school in Virginia, and the moment the news hit, he had been on the phone, discussing procedures to ensure it wouldn't happen again. You went with him that day that he gave the speech, and you could tell he had been thinking of Jack the entire time he was up there.

Hotch closes his eyes for a beat. "But I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families."

The line is silent, before: "Did you walk out on your family?"

Hotch looks down for a moment and you fight the urge to walk over and pull him into a hug. "No. My wife left me."

You can feel the team's eyes on you as you keep your expression neutral, your eyes focused on him.

"Do you have kids?"

Your mind flashes to Jack, and your chest feels warm as he nods, before muttering a quick "yes".

The woman speaks up again, her voice stronger yet more emotional. "How often do you see him?"

"I try to see him every week."

She scoffs. "Do you see him every week?" Her question is like a jab, trying to push him into doing or saying something that will prove he's just like the other men in her life.

"No," he admits, glancing back at you. You nod, trying to let him know that you're right here. "I don't get there as often as I want."

"I believe you." Her voice softens and you watch as Hotch's expression turns back to his thinking face. He has an idea.

He lets her talk for a minute, listening in to Garcia's updates on the trap-and-trace, until he chimes in again. "But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?"

You can hear the confusion in her tone. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you wanna show the world all these bad men, and my investigation's just getting in your way."

"No, Aaron," she sighs heavily. "You just want me to disappear, just like they do."

He shakes his head, turning to look out the window. "Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You don't know who to trust. Am I right?"

There are tears in her voice as she quietly whispers an acknowledgement.

"Come to me and turn yourself in." He walks back to the living area. "I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear."

His voice is a comfort, and for a brief moment, you think that he could probably convince you to turn yourself in if you had to.

There's a beat of silence, before a small rustling sound. "If we met under different circumstances...I could believe that."

The rustling continues, before her tone changes completely, going from soft and meek to strong and icy. "I won't let you cover this up."

There's a gunshot right before the call cuts out.

***

You follow Hotch and Derek into the hotel room, checking behind you as you aim your gun out in front of you. Once Garcia found Megan Kane's address and client list, everything else fell into place.

The room is empty, except for a gun and a bottle of champagne placed theatrically on the center table.

"Hotch," Derek whispers, pointing out at the balcony, where a figure is laying down on one of the lounge chairs.

His brow furrows and he lifts his hand. "Wait here."

"You sure?" you ask, stepping forward to get a better look.

He nods. "It's over. She knows it."

Derek steps out to call 911, and you watch as Hotch approaches her slowly, tucking his gun into his holster before sitting on the chair beside her.

"Nothing will change," you hear her whisper, her voice overflowing with despair. "They'll just go back to doing whatever they want and they'll keep getting away with it."

He shakes his head. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

The response is almost corny, but his voice is so earnest that you find yourself believing him anyway.

He reaches forward and takes her hand, holding it tightly as her head lolls to the side to look at him. "How could your wife have ever left someone like you?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the sadness permeating off of both of them as he comforts her in her final moments. Haley is one of your good friends, and you know she would've made their marriage work if it was something she could control. This job just isn't that.

Megan lets out a soft sob and you avert your eyes, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. "You're the first man I ever met who didn't let me down. Will you stay with me?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He holds her hand for a long time, and he doesn't stand up until you're certain she's been dead for minutes. The walk back to you is slow, and you can see the extra weight on his shoulders as he trudges across the hotel room.

You open your arms and he all but falls into them, letting you pull him into a tight hug that you can tell is holding him together right now.

"You did good," you whisper as his face presses into your shoulder. "You kept your promise. It's the last thing she wanted, and you gave it to her."

You feel him nod, and a moment later, he stands up, letting his arms drop like deadweights. His hair is slightly disheveled, so you reach up and push the front strands back from his forehead, before resting your hand on his cheek for a quick second. "Let's go home?"

He nods again. "Let's go home."

***

It's snowing. You don't realize it until you step out of the car and onto the sidewalk in front of the Georgetown brownstone where the priest was taken in.

Emily and Derek caught him in the middle of an attempted exorcism, and you didn't arrive with the rest of the team until they were already bringing him out in cuffs. She looks shaken as she leads her friend out of the house and to the ambulance waiting on the street.

Once the paramedics take him from her hands, her body all but deflates, and she exhales deeply, as though releasing the pent-up tension from the day.

"Em," you whisper, approaching her slowly. "Can I drive you home?"

She doesn't look at you at first. Whites flecks of snow dance across your vision and stick to her coat and hair as she stares at the ground. After a moment, she shakes her head. "I'm gonna walk for a while."

Her feet don't move, and you're reminded of a conversation you had years ago, when she comforted you and offered you a quiet place to just be. Gently looping your arm through hers, you ask, "Do you want some company?"

She nods almost immediately, and you let her lead the way as you walk away from the red and blue flashing lights. You can't imagine how tough this case must have been for her, especially because the people she loved were so deeply involved.

The walk is silent, and you look down, watching the patterns the soles of your boots make in the snow. You only stop moving when Emily does, her sudden stillness tugging you back as she stands in front of a small church that she must have seen from down the street.

She lets go of your arm as she turns her face up to the sky, hugging herself in an effort to stay warm or shield herself. Maybe a mix of both.

"You don't have to say anything," you say softly as you turn to face the church as well, your shoulder pressing lightly against hers, "but if you want to, I'm always here to listen."

Emily glances up at the church, her eyes shining in the cold, and presses her lips together as she takes in a shaky breath. "My friend...who died...Matthew. He knew the Bible inside and out, and one day he started to question everything."

You think you know where this is going, but you don't want to interrupt her when she's letting out emotions she has clearly kept inside for years.

"We moved around a lot when I was younger, because of my mom's postings, and when you're 15, it's really hard to get accepted."

She's silent for a few moments and you take the opportunity to fill in the gaps for her, so she doesn't have to say it out loud. "You got pregnant?"

She nods, taking a deep breath. "Matthew wasn't the father. It-it was...something else. But I didn't know what to do. He told me to talk to our priest, but he just said that if I had an abortion, I wasn't welcome in his congregation."

Your throat tightens with tears and you blink them back, swallowing thickly. "What did you do?"

"Matthew found a doctor." Her arms tighten around her abdomen, and she lets out a small shiver. "He took me there, and he stayed with me. Then, when we got back, he held my hand and walked me into the church." Her voice cracks as she continues. "Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, but Matthew told me to hold my head up and we walked to the front pew."

Her arms fall then, and you look up to see the wetness on her cheeks, pink from the cold. "Matthew saved my life. He made me feel like I was worthy of...love, and friendship, but then his anger and questioning started." She finally looks at you, and her eyes are wide with grief and anguish. "He saved me, and it's my fault that his life unraveled."

You're shaking your head before she's even finished speaking. "Em, honey, it's not your fault. He was your friend. He loved you, and everything he did for you was his choice. Anything he discovered after that was already within him."

Another tear falls down her cheek and you reach forward to pull her into a hug that she accepts gratefully. "You're one of the strongest people I know."

Her hands clutch the back of your coat as she cries silently into your shoulder, and you don't let go until she finally stops shaking.

***

Hotch is ending a phone call when you step into his office. He sets it down and nods when you step inside, but you can see the lines of tension just in the way he's standing.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, walking inside and standing in front of his desk. "What was that call about?"

He doesn't look up. "Shaunessy died last night."

"Oh, Aaron, I'm so sorry." You squeeze his forearm over the desk, but he still won't look at you. "He was your first boss here at the BAU, right?"

He nods, before clearing his throat and straightening his back. "He was sick. This isn't a surprise, but there's something else we may need to talk about-"

He's interrupted by JJ coming into his office, a case file in hand. "Sorry, but you wanted to know immediately about any unusual Boston homicides?"

You see his jaw twitch as he takes the file from her and flips it open, scanning the first page quickly. JJ glances over at you, a confused expression on her face, but you can only shrug.

He looks up after a minute. "We're going to Boston."

JJ sputters. "Wha-what, but we haven't been invited?"

"We will be." He grabs his coat and sidesteps the two of you, before booking it out of his office. You're hot on his heels as he grabs his briefcase and alerts the team that they need to be ready to leave within the hour.

"What was that about?" Morgan asks, turning to you.

You shrug again. "I have no idea." You turn to the glass doors swinging shut behind him, and rush outside before you can second guess your actions.

"Aaron!" you call out, forcing him to hold the elevator for you. "Tell me what's going on."

He sighs as you step inside, and he sets the briefcase on the floor. "It's the Boston Reaper. He's back."

"The Reaper?" The name sends a shudder through your body. "That was your first case as a profiler, wasn't it?"

He nods, and you wait for him to continue. "He offered Shaunessy a deal that if he shut down the investigation, then he would stop killing."

His words take a moment to register, but then your face falls. "He took the deal. And now that he's dead..."

"The Reaper has started killing again."

***

The next crime scene comes in the form of an older couple, who were killed in their car on the side of the street. When you arrive, you discover that the unsub left behind the previous victim's watch, as well as a note.

You sidle up next to Hotch, bumping your shoulder against his to alert him to your presence. "Looks like he went through her purse. Any idea what he was looking for?"

He's so focused on the letter in his hands that he doesn't respond, so you lean in and read it from beside his shoulder. "The question mark is new."

"It's for us," he says suddenly, dropping his hand and looking at you. "He's saying it's not fate. He's saying we had 10 years to save them and that these latest ones are on us."

You frown, trying to scrutinize the lines of tension on his face. "You got all that from one question mark?"

"I may know him better than I've let on."

Your brow furrows and you grab his wrist, bringing his attention back to you. "What does that mean? Aaron?"

"It means that there is a profile on The Reaper."

"You said you were called off before you could make one-"

"We were," he cuts you off, shaking his head. "I had just started the profile, and then he stopped killing, so officially we were done, but..."

You purse your lips. "But this case stuck with you."

He nods. "I kept coming back to it over the years, and I worked on it alone."

You can imagine young Hotch, in his first years at the bureau, poring over the case file late into the night, because he couldn't put it away when the unsub was still out there. You realize, all of a sudden, that it reminds you of Gideon.

Looking up at him, you release his wrist, letting your fingers drag on his pulse for a moment before letting go. "We need to hear your profile."

***

After he gives the profile alone, you all head back to the hotel to get some rest before the long days ahead of you. In your heart of hearts, you know that no one will really be sleeping tonight, least of all Hotch, so you go up to his room with him to keep working on the case.

"Can you imagine living with the fear that the man who killed your fiancee, and nearly killed you, is still out there?" Your question is mostly rhetorical, but Hotch still lets out a soft grunt from the bed where he's poring over crime scene photos from the last few victims.

"It explains why Foyet went so underground," he says with a frown. "The multiple residences under different names, always taking the bus...I just wish he had taken us up on moving him to a safe house."

"I think that's actually the one part I do understand," you muse, looking up from the file on your lap. "Part of the reason why I came back from my dad's house so soon after Jeff died was because I needed everything to return to normal. I needed my life back."

He glances up at you then with a slight raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head before looking back down. It's okay. Not now.

He looks like he wants to say something, but then the hotel room phone goes off, piercing the air with a high ringing sound. He gets off the bed and picks it up, answering with a stern, "Hotchner."

He's silent at first, but you only look up when you hear him say, "You've misjudged me. I'm the guy who hunts guys like you...I'll see you soon." He slams the phone down on the receiver, and even though you know exactly what that was, you still need him to say it.

"Hotch, what was that?"

He rubs a hand over his face, pacing back and forth across the small space in front of you.

"Was that him?"

He doesn't respond, instead mumbling something under his breath that you can't make out. You stand up and cross the room, before grabbing his forearms so he's forced to look at you. "Aaron! What did he say?"

His eyes are frantic as he finally meets your eye. "He offered me the same deal...and I didn't take it."

***

"Six bodies, not including the driver. He put 'em down with the gun and finished them off with his knife."

The scene inside the bus is horrifying. Blood is dripping from each of the seats, and the words "No Deal", along with a series of numbers, are painted in blood on the windows.

Rossi comes up beside you as you watch Hotch survey the scene, an eerie stillness to his composure. "What's going on with him?"

You glance at him, before turning back to Hotch. "The Reaper called him at his room tonight, offering the deal...and he hung up on him."

Rossi nods, before patting your arm and stepping around you. He nods at Hotch, grabbing his attention away from the scene he hasn't been able to look away from for minutes. "Y/N told me what happened earlier. So, what, you think this is your fault?"

"It is." His voice is shakier than you'd expect based on the resolution in his choice of words.

"Okay," Rossi shrugs, reaching for the gun in his holster. "Here, use mine." Your brow furrows and you step forward, making sure you're nearby in case this gets out of hand. You love Dave, but he can be a bit heavy-handed sometimes.

"You convinced me," he continues, shoving his hand forward. Hotch shakes his head, but he doesn't let up. "No, no, you hung up on him. You practically killed them yourself. Go ahead, get it over with. Don't worry about us. We'll get this guy without you."

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, they're shining with tears. You realize, with a shock, that you haven't seen him cry in decades. Not since the day after his father's funeral when Sean shut himself in his room for hours, because he truly believed that his brother didn't care about their family.

When he looks at Rossi again, a few tears have fallen down his cheeks. "I had ten years to do something about it."

"Look," he says simply, lowering his gun, "if you want to end up like Shaunessy, like Gideon, blaming yourself for everything, then you go ahead. But that voice in your head, it's not your conscience. It's your ego."

Hotch deflates, and you reach forward to wrap your fingers around his wrist, maintaining a steady connection. He looks at you, and you dip your chin into a tiny nod. It's not always your fault.

He looks back at Dave with a heavy sigh, but he doesn't pull his hand from your grasp. "You can put that away now."

Rossi raises his eyebrows as he tucks the gun away. "You sure?"

Hotch shakes his head, unable to hide his smile, and you let out a little chuckle. "It's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"My wife always said I had a flair for the dramatic."

You and Hotch speak up at the same time. "Which one?"

Rossi shrugs. "All of them."

You laugh, before squeezing Aaron's wrist once more and letting go.

***

George Foyet is the Reaper.

You can't believe it even as the words circle around your brain. The team was able to catch him before he killed Colson, the journalist who wrote a book about him, but the victory still doesn't feel sweet.

I'm gonna be more famous than you even realize.

His last words before Derek cuffed him and handed him off to the police. They won't leave your head even as you step off the elevator into the office. Emily and JJ are chatting about some new restaurant in town as they step out ahead of you, and you walk to your desk in a trance, unable to figure out why you aren't able to let out the breath you've been holding since you left for Boston.

Your question is answered when JJ runs back from her office a few minutes later, her phone clutched in her hand and a panicked expression on her face. "Foyet escaped."

***

It takes a while for Derek to get over the Foyet news. He took his badge and credentials when he knocked him out, and even with the replacement he was given, you know the knowledge that Foyet is out there is still irking at him.

Hotch isn't much better. He's been throwing himself into work extra hard, and you're worried he's going to burn out or simply combust if he keeps at it.

This is exactly what Foyet wants, you want to scream. He's trying to get in your heads and mess with your life, without even being here.

But you don't say it.

***

He's been so immersed in work that he doesn't really get to talk to you until a case in Oregon, where an unsub has been killing people by hitting them with his car.

You're grabbing a cup of coffee at the local police station, pouring in an uncharacteristic packet of sugar, when he approaches you, perching on the edge of the counter. "Sugar?"

"I know," you sigh, tossing the empty packet into the trash can next to you. "I just wanted something a little sweeter today."

"Can't argue with that," he says softly, making you smile. It drops almost as fast as it appeared, and he scoots closer as he hands you a wooden stirrer. "How are you holding up?"

This case can't be easy for you, especially knowing how your mom died. You don't talk about it often, but when you do, he can tell it's because you need to let it out. He's the same way with his father, only the feelings he is hiding from are different.

"I'm fine," you say quickly, like it's an automatic response. You both know it's a lie, and you close your eyes for a beat, dropping the stirrer into your cup. "I should be fine, but...I don't know." He follows your gaze over to the open case file across the table, and notices how your eyes hang on the crime scene photos. The car wreckage. The tread marks on the road. "I don't know why this case is affecting me so much. I didn't even see the crash when my mom died."

He reaches forward and closes the file. "Grief works in interesting ways." If there's anything he has the authority to speak on, it's grief. But then again, so do you. He doesn't know if he would've gotten through the aftermath of his father's death without you. Thinking about it now, he doesn't think he's told anyone else the whole truth about his family. "Anything can be a trigger."

"What was your trigger?" you ask suddenly, turning to look at him. "After your dad died?" Your eyes are full of curiosity, and for a moment, he wonders again if you really can read his mind.

He takes a deep breath before answering. "For a while, almost everything was. The smell of his beer, the material of his favorite coat...it all made me so angry."

"I remember," you whisper, setting your coffee down, "but soon after, that changed." You look at him with a small smile. "You met Haley."

His jaw twitches and he realizes that he wasn't even thinking about her. The first person that came to mind when he thought about his healing process was you. Haley was everything to him, but she wasn't built for the life he grew up with. She wouldn't have been able to understand the rage flowing through his body when he thought of his father's death. The anger and hurt he felt, that somehow always transformed to guilt when he went back home for the night.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, accepting your judgment, even if it is a lie. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore, so he diverts back to the original subject. "Your mother was different. She loved you exactly how you deserved to be loved. Even if it hurts sometimes, it's just a reminder that you had something great."

That makes you smile, and he feels warmth fill his chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He nods, patting your knee. "It's been known to happen."

***

You're in the passenger seat next to Derek when you see it. You watch him swerve his SUV into the unsub's truck in real time, but you still don't believe what you're seeing until the cars come to a stop, smoke billowing out of the front.

Derek screeches to a stop and there's glass everywhere as you throw yourself out of the SUV and race towards the collision site.

Aaron is stumbling out of his car when you reach him. There's a gash on his forehead, dripping blood down his face, and another on his arm. He tries to reach for his gun, but you grab his arms, holding him against the SUV.

"Sorry," he mutters through gritted teeth as you reach up to swipe the blood off his forehead before it falls into his eye. Your hand stays on his face as you survey the rest of him for any other wounds that may need your attention.

Once you're certain that he'll be okay, you turn back to him with a glare. "You scared the shit out of me." Your thumb is unconsciously rubbing circles on his jaw as he looks down at you. You are well aware that danger comes with the job description, but he also knows you would kill him if he ever put himself in serious danger, especially when it wasn't necessary. "Don't ever do that again."

He takes a deep breath as you pick a piece of glass out of his hair. When you return to meet his gaze, he reaches out to grab the strap of your vest. "I'm sorry."

You tug each other forward into a hug at seemingly the same time. You don't get the chance to be careful with his wounds as you collide into his chest, but you forget about everything else the moment his arms close around you. He's okay. He's alive.

"You don't get to die on me," you whisper into his collarbone as you tighten your grip around him. "Promise me."

You know it's not fair. You know it's not something he can control, especially with the kinds of people you chase on a daily basis, but it doesn't matter, because he knows you. He knows when you need the facts, and when you need reassurance, so instead of uttering a funny quip or a painful truth, he just says, "I promise."

***

Are you sure it's okay that I'm coming?

You type back a response as soon as you see the message on your phone. Of course. Dave invited you and Jack, and I would love to see you too.

A few minutes later, you get a simple Ok, so you set your phone down on the table and stand up to join the rest of your friends. With summer around the corner, Dave wanted to host a garden party, and after the last few months, you definitely don't mind the respite.

"Come get some more food," he tells you the moment you approach them by the edge of his huge yard. He's standing with Derek, Spencer, and Penelope by a long table adorned with steaming dishes of bread, pasta, and salad.

"I'll explode if I eat any more," you say with a laugh as Spencer stuffs another piece of bread into his mouth. For a small as he looks, he can be a bottomless pit when it comes to good food. "Have you guys seen Hotch?"

"He isn't here yet," Penelope notes as Derek wraps an arm around her. "I'll keep an eye out though."

"Do you think he'll bring Haley and Jack?" Spencer asks as JJ approaches with Henry in her arms.

"I told her to come," you say, tickling the baby's chin with the tip of your finger. "It'll be nice to see everyone together."

As though conjured by their questions, the door to the backyard opens and Jack steps out with Haley and Hotch right behind him.

"You're here!" You walk across the lawn and give her a quick hug, before bending down and lifting Jack into the air. "What's up, Jack-o-lantern? You're so big now."

"Yeah," he giggles, wrapping his arms around your neck. You press a loud kiss to the side of his head and he bursts into a fit of giggles as you tickle his belly with your free hand.

"I'm so glad you made it," Dave says from behind you as he comes over and gives Haley a hug. "We love having you here."

She raises her eyebrow at Hotch, but there's no intention behind it. Divorce seems to have treated them well, reminding them of all of the good that was there before everything else got in the way. "Thank you for inviting us."

"Seriously, thank you," Hotch agrees, before reaching out to take Jack from your arms.

"Any time," Dave says sincerely, before nodding at him. "Come help me grab some more wine from the cellar."

They disappear into the house, and you pull Haley down with you into two of the chairs by the edge of the sprawling yard. "Hotch and Jack are sweet together."

She nods, looking wistfully at the door. "He loves any time he gets with his dad."

"It can't be easy," you say slowly, hoping you aren't breaching a boundary unknown to you. "I've seen firsthand how busy the job has been getting recently. I haven't been home before midnight in over a week."

She's silent for a moment, and you worry that you crossed the line, but then she just smiles. "He's trying so hard...and that's all I can really ask for, isn't it?"

You suppose she's right. Not everyone is lucky enough to find a person who fights as hard as Aaron does to get home to his family at the end of the day.

"You're good for him, you know." You look at her as she crosses one leg over the other. "You always have been."

"You are too."

"I know," she says, before shaking her head. Her expression is warm as she smiles at you. "It's not the same, though. Even when you weren't around, you were in everything he did."

You don't know exactly where she's going with this, and you're acutely aware of the choruses of laughter floating over to you from across the lawn as she reaches out to squeeze your arm. "He loves you."

Your face transforms into what you imagine is a look of confusion. "I love him, too. He's my best friend."

Haley looks at you for a moment, before shaking her head with a nearly inscrutable sigh. "Anyway, thanks for convincing me to come. I'm gonna get some food."

~

Eventually, the sun sets, and the string lights in Dave's backyard turn on, along with the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald and Sam Cooke. He helps Derek and Will push the tables and chairs aside to make room for a dance floor, and soon, Haley is in his arms as they swing along to the lilting tunes filtering out over the yard.

It feels natural, dancing with her like this, but at the same time, he knows it's different now. He holds her firmly as she tilts in his arms, loose from the wine that Dave made sure was pouring all night, and she lets him swing her around the lawn, no care in the world.

Soon, the song changes, and she looks at him with a dreamy smile. "You love this song."

It's a soft tune by Sam Cooke, one he can't remember the name of right now, but he smiles at her as he nods. "I'm glad you're here. You and Jack."

"I missed you all," she says, before cracking a smile. "Mostly just Y/N though."

That makes him laugh, and before he knows it, Dave is walking over, with you on his hand, asking to trade partners for the song. "I haven't gotten to talk to Haley all night."

It's not the best excuse, but Haley doesn't seem to mind at all. "Of course, I'd love to dance."

Dave whisks her away, and Hotch holds a hand out for you, pulling you into another steady swing.

"I love this song," you whisper as the two of you fall into a rhythm. "I Wish You Love."

Right, that's what it's called. His hand settles on your waist as you grip his shoulder, and he can tell you've had a bit of wine too, but only because of the red tint of your cheeks.

"This is nice," you say after a few beats of silence. "We don't get to do this often."

He nods, turning you to make room for Derek and Emily, who are swinging heartily across the yard. "It's nice to see the kids together." He glances over your shoulder to peer at JJ, who has Henry and Jack in each of her arms. She has jumped head first into motherhood, and it suits her.

The song changes to something a little slower, so he steers you to the edge of the dance floor, taking control as your feet glide after him. Maybe you've had a bit more wine than he first assumed.

The thought makes him chuckle and you look at him with a quizzical expression. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head, and clasps your hand tighter to hold you to him. He glances over your shoulder again and finds an excuse for his laughter almost immediately. "Garcia is trying to teach Reid how to dance."

You tug his arm immediately, spinning the two of you around so you can see the situation he described, and your face breaks out into a wide grin when you spot them a few paces over. "The poor kid has no coordination."

As you watch them dance, he watches you. The way the string lights glance over your exposed shoulders. The sparkle of your eyes under the waning moonlight. He realizes, not for the first time, how beautiful you are.

He could give himself the usual excuse, that it's just the time of the night, or the single glass of red he drank a few hours ago, but tonight, he lets himself just be there.

You're his best friend, and he loves you. He's here, dancing around the grass with some of his closest companions, and you're with him. For once, he can just be.

***

You can't the pile of shoes out of your head. Derek and Emily were able to find the girl before Lucas Turner killed her, but even after arresting him and getting her back to her mother, the case is still sticking with you.

89 pairs of shoes.

You shake the thought from your head as you get into Hotch's car in the field office parking lot. He insisted on driving you home after seeing the look on your face in the plane, and for once, you didn't argue with him.

"I can't stop thinking about them," you whisper as he pulls out of the lot. "So many lives that are forever changed because of two men."

You saw how Derek reacted when he found the box of muddy shoes. You saw JJ's face after she had to shoot Hightower for murdering the man who experimented on his sister.

"I'm thinking of giving everyone a few days off," he says, glancing over at you. "We all need some time to get away from this job. I'll put the request in tomorrow morning."

You nod, unable to voice your opinion. You feel depleted, without having even witnessed the horrors you know occurred up on that farm.

It takes a second, but eventually you regain the ability to speak. "Do you think it's worth it?" Your voice feels like sandpaper, but the question hurts more than anything else. "This life, I mean."

He mulls it over, and you notice his grip tighten on the steering wheel in front of him. "I think it has to be." Your brow furrows, and you don't know whether you want to scream or cry at how terrible that answer feels right now, but he isn't finished. "We have put too much of ourselves into this job to allow us to forget about all of the good that has come out of it too. If we choose to forget the good, then none of it means anything."

You look at him in wonder, realizing he has voiced exactly what you needed to hear. You're constantly awestruck by how he always seems to know exactly what to say to bring back your sense of purpose.

"You're good at this whole leadership thing," you say softly, cracking a smile when he looks at you. "You help me grow."

He pushes you just hard enough to help you transform into something so much bigger and better than you hoped you could be. His chin dips and he turns back to the road as your neighborhood comes into view. "You help me grow too."

You lean your cheek on your palm as you snuggle further into the seat. "I called Josh Cramer, over at organized crime."

His eyebrows raise with surprise and he glances over at you. "Jeff's old boss? How did that go?"

During your last interaction at the BAU office all those years ago, you weren't ready to see him yet. He still reminded you of the hate and anger and guilt you felt over Jeff's death.

The last few months have been kinder to you, though. It doesn't hurt as much when you think about him.

"It went well," you sigh, looking out the window at the houses passing by. "Even though it'll never really be the same, it felt more like old times, if that makes any sense."

"It does," he says simply, providing you an acknowledgement before letting you fill in the spaces yourself.

You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs, before letting it out again. "He told me a story from before Jeff went undercover. It was just a dumb story about some night his team went out for burgers after wrapping up a case." Your breaths get shallower, but the tears you are expecting don't come. "Apparently, he made the team go to three different burger spots, because he wanted to bring me back curly fries, and none of the places were selling the kind I like."

You clear your throat to dispel the tightness, and when you look back at him, the car has come to a stop in front of your house.

"That sounds like him," Hotch says, smiling at you as you chuckle to yourself.

You nod, closing your eyes for a beat. "I guess I just wanted to say that, yeah, our lives are sometimes changed inalterably, but...it's not always bad. I met him, I loved him...and then I lost him, but I still wouldn't take back any of it."

His eyes crinkle and he looks out the windshield for a brief second. "Me neither."

It's already late, and you don't want to take up any more of his night, so you bid him goodbye and shut your door after making him promise to actually get some rest.

Your front door shuts behind you, and you hear the sound of his car driving off as you exhale heavily. Your house feels big with you here alone, but for once, you revel in the solitude. Finally, a few days of peace and quiet.

TAGLIST: @citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios (message me to be added!)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner series #criminal minds series #criminal minds season four #hotch fic #criminal minds fanfiction #anchor series #anchor

[fourseasonsfigs]

Foot Bath

Here we have a set with fandom details to spare.

First, the overall inspiration for the foot bath figs is based on Gong Jun's weibo post last November (11-6-2021), where he takes a picture of him watching his team EDG in League of Legends and doing a hot herbal foot soak.

The (machine translated) caption reads, "The only regret is that the basin is too small (it doesn't matter, EDG will give it to me!!!)"

An herbal foot bath in early winter sounds delightful right now, honestly!

Next, we have Gong Jun wearing his black silk French Bulldog pajamas. These pajamas showed up in this memorable clip from his appearance on Go Fighting (season 7):

These are from his endorsed brand Beast, and these are from their "Naked Beast" pajama collection.

Side note - all of Beast's pajamas look incredible. I've had this set sitting in my cart for some time now.

Beast also sold the white silk cat pajamas that Zhehan is wearing in this fig set, but I don't see them right now in Beast's shop.

Zhehan's modest little clasp there of his lapels is directly from the SHL filming BTS, where he is doing the same to his A-Xu inner robe collars.

Mister Man Himself, looking pretty flirty!

May I point out it's not as if his robes were actually gaping wide open or anything.

The little blush is so cute on their cheeks!

You can see a little tiny bit of where I put a little too much museum putty under their tush to keep them stuck to their chairs. They do not sit up otherwise, but topple right over.

I always laugh when you can clearly tell who is who from behind. Not all fig makers do this, but most of them! Also love the continued height difference, although since most of Junjun's height is in his legs, I'm not sure there's actually this much difference sitting down. But who cares, I like it better this way anyway!

Here's all the pieces individually. The depressions in the chairs fit very well, but the figs are just too big and heavy for the light little chairs to hold them. The chairs would have to be a lot bigger and more substantial (like armchairs) to hold them without sticky support.

Shot from above so you can see the foot bathing action!

Sadly, the foot bath is not interchangeable. Junjun was right, the oak container is just too small! Hanhan's little feet are spread too wide to both fit into the tub. I can only fit one of his feet in it.

There was a badge pin extra which you could buy, which I did. I forgot the early bird purchasers got one for free! I don't use pins myself, so I put a magnet on the back and stick it on my file cabinet along with the rest of my Wenzhou/Junzhe magnets.

A close up of the cute badges. They're nice quality. I'm saving all my extras for the giveaways I'm going to do when I hit some milestone posts.

The very domestic househusbands looking box cards!

Material: PVC

Fig Count: 98

Diorama Count: 7

Snowglobe Count: 1

Rating: Warm and cozy

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#junzhe #gong jun #zhang zhehan #shl cast #word of honor cast #figthusiast #bg photo credit kate darmody on unsplash

[kumikoumae-archive]

There is nothing quite like picturing Bruce Wayne in waiting rooms. Giant Dad sitting in a tiny chair next to several moms ogling him while Cass is doing ballet, Anxious Dad in the waiting room of the dentist while Tim has his wisdom teeth removed, Midlife Crisis Dad listening to the calming music at Damian's therapist praying his son doesn't scare this one off, 'Questioning His Life Choices' Dad waiting for Steph at the salon, 'Two Seconds Away From a Heart Attack' Dad while one of his kids is in the OR of a hospital. Just. So many scenarios. So much potential for either fluff or angst.

#i keep picturing a big big man stuck in a tiny tiny chair and holding his kid's bags #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #i would read 10k words of bruce wayne sitting in tiny chairs and having several existential crisis #gi talks #dc hc #1k

[moemoemammon]

Ok. I need to get this idea out to someone. Solomon and mc are messing with potions for class and he accidentally gives mc a “youth” potion that makes you look younger. It turns mc into like a 4 year old for like a couple of days. What do you think would be the demon brothers (any) reaction to babysitting their master? What would they do? Idk i think it would be a little funny.

You’ve Gotta Be KIDding me, MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

He'll be exchanging words with that sorcerer bastard later. You can bet on that.

Lucifer doesn't take kindly to the idea of MC having run ins with magic in general, but at least this seems to be on the tamer side of the magical spectrum. And he had to admit, it's sort of amusing.

He intentionally watches you try to handle things on your own. Be it reaching for things too high up, stubbornly carrying things too heavy for your tiny arms, or making messes when you try to tidy up, Lucifer waits patiently until you ask for help (or until he can't take it anymore).

Treats you like he always does, despite your size. He doesn't talk to you like a child, or try to force toys and nap times onto you, but may or may not tease you when it's only the two of you. After all, you may look like a child, but that doesn't mean you are one. It's still funny to harass you a little, though.

"As independent as you may be, please refrain from trying to climb up onto the counter. If you need something, ask one of my brothers, or myself. If that isn't obvious enough, perhaps a 'time-out' is in order?"

Mammon

When Mammon recovers from laughing for twenty minutes, (and also making threats on Solomon's life) he then decides to take a billion pictures of you. Now calls you 'munchkin' and variations of it.

And if you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he is now. You're ACTUALLY helpless and vulnerable. I mean, you'd hardly make an appetizer for a random demon! So Mammon's gotta keep an eye on you. Maybe even a toddler leash-

Unintentionally treats you like an actual child. His older brother mode kicks in, and he finds himself taking care of you as naturally as breathing. Mammon? Being responsible?? It's more likely than you think.

He hands you a cup of juice before you can say 'I'm thirsty'. He'll slide over some sliced up fruits before your stomach has a chance to growl. You're tired? No kidding. That's why he's got a blanket and pillow on the sofa for you.

"Where do ya think you're goin', short stack? Nowhere without ME, that's where! I already told ya, if there's somethin' ya need, just tell me!" "Huh? I'm spoilin' ya too much? S-so what if I am?!"

Levi

Solomon came in with a child in tow that looked a hell of a lot like MC, and this man nearly had a heart attack. There's no way... did those two have a secret love child?! Th-that's just-!! Oh, it's only MC.

WAIT A MINUTE...TH-THIS IS....! ISNT THIS JUST LIKE 'DETECTIVE C*NAN'? Uwaaah... Just look at you! You're still just as smart as before, but you've become super small! Talk about the ultimate gap moe!!!

Levi isn't a big fan of the idea of tiny, sticky hands touching his things, so he's glad you've still got your normal brainpower. That being said, he finds himself talking to you normally. Maybe even easier than before!

It kinda throws him off that you guys can't do the things you'd normally do together. Your fingers don't have their usual dexterity so playing games is a challenge, and your attention span is a little shorter so these TSL marathons are killing you. But have no fear, Levi knows a ton of other things you could do together! He won't let something like this spoil his time with his dear Henry!

"If you can't use the controller, let's try something that doesn't need one! I've got a new Ruri Hana VR game with REAL motion and voice tracking! If you say the spells out loud, you'll cast them in game! Ah, and it auto-adjusts to the player's height, so there's nothing to worry about!"

Satan

HES DOING HIS BEST NOT TO LAUGH. SATAN WILL HANDLE THIS WITH POISE AND GRACE, BUT MAN....

Watching you struggle to enter the House of Lamentation in your oversized RAD uniform nearly sent him to the stratosphere. He inhaled tea when you almost tripped over your blazer and had to get a couple of slaps on the back from Asmo.

Does his best to find a cure for your 'little' problem, but the most that can be done is waiting it out. In the meantime, would you like him to read you a story? Large books are probably difficult on your tiny hands.

Constantly catches himself treating you like a tot. He's not trying to, but he can't help himself when he sees your round eyes staring up at him, or when he watches you try to climb up onto an armchair.

"Up we go- There. It must be hard for you, having to climb up into the chairs like that. I've got a stool if you'd like to use it? Though, I don't mind if you sit on my lap, too." "Hm? I'm embarrassing you? I-I didn't realize how overzealous I was being. Ehem...."

Asmo

Oh that Solomon and his silly spells and potions, always making trouble! It's just one of his many charm points! And seeing as there are no permanent consequences from this harmless mishap, Asmo's enjoying it to the fullest.

Can you blame him? You're SOOOO cute~! So tiny and adorable! Why would've know that was possible?? Look this way, MC! He wants to take some pictures of you! Lowkey uses you as a photo op prop

He used to work part time at a daycare, you know? Asmo's great with kids! But that also means he's treating you like one. There's personalized snacks, cute little nicknames, and he's already gone and bought you a week's worth of clothes. Nobody tell him it'll only last a day-

He can be a little annoying with the baby talk and all the little activities he's planned for you, but you can tell he's enjoying himself.

"MC, look~! I've got plenty of ribbons to decorate your hair with! I'll let you choose your favorites, and then we can set out in town!" "Hm? Where are we going? To the playground, silly! You must be dying for a play date after being stuck in this dreary house all day, right?"

Beel

He was kinda teetering between whether or not he should throw Solomon across the yard like a football when he saw him carrying a teeny MC, but all was forgiven when he learned it was an accident.

Has now designated himself the permanent MC carrier. Your feet will never touch the ground so long as you're a child. And it's no problem for the likes of Beel, when you're as light as a feather! That makes him a little more conscious about being careful with you though-

Be it piggybacking or carrying you in his arms, he hasn't released you since he's spotted you. And don't think he's forgotten about feeding you. Beel's also taken your meal prep upon himself. You'll prefer things that've easy to eat, right? Though it kills gum to give you smaller portions than usual.... it feels cruel...

Somewhere between babying you and treating you as usual. He speaks normally to you as he always does, but prioritizes your needs over everything else. He wants to make sure you're well taken care of until this potion wears off.

"You're sure you've had enough to eat? I know I gave you a snack earlier, but... to think you really can't eat as much as before.. I'll talk to Solomon again. It must be torture to have such a tiny stomach, I'll do my best to get you back to normal."

Belphie

There's obvious opportunity here, and Belphegor won't let it go to waste. (No not for murder)

He's getting a kick about your new mini mode. How's the weather down there? Do you need him to pick you up so you can reach the high shelves? Don't worry, he'll get you a sippy cup.

When the teasing has settled down, he pays attention to a more pressing matter: you're now the perfect side for cuddling. You're a living hot water bottle, not too big, not too small, tiny and soft and adorable. Er, he won't mention that last part though.

Anyway, Belphie thinks a little kid like you should go on and take a nap now. It's exhausting having such short legs and wandering around the house all day, right? He gets it. You look tired and he knows the solution.

"Ah, you're just as cozy as I thought you'd be... Though, it feels kind of weird holding you like this. It's like holding a stuffed animal, but you're not nearly as cute." "Pfft, what's that face for? Sorry, sorry, I was only teasing."

#there's some subtle foreshadowing for the next CYA here #also might do a pt. 2 of this because I like the 'turned into a kid' trope #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #obey me! #obey me #shall we date? obey me! #shall we date obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me writing #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

[finelinevogue]

the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚

P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable

anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children

so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;

tw: vomiting, ppd and od

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks

Motherhood was really fucking hard.

The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.

It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.

“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.

“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.

“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.

But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.

You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.

Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.

There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.

“You two boys okay?”

You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.

“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.

“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.

“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.

His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.

“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”

Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.

“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”

“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.

“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.

“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.

“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.

“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.

The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.

Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.

You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.

You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.

There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.

Last night had been that night.

Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.

You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.

It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.

“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.

You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.

“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.

Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.

“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.

“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.

“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”

“She’s really tired all of the times.”

“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.

Hell, was he so wrong.

“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”

“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.

Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.

“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.

He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.

Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.

“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry’s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.

999

“What’s your emergency?”

“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”

The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.

Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.

It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.

Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.

You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’

“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.

“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.

“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”

“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”

“Stop yes I do I—”

“Harry please you don’t owe—”

“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.

“Harry, you don’t mean—”

“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”

“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.

“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.

“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”

“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”

“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”

“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”

“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.

Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.

“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.

“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.

“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”

You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”

“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”

“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”

Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.

“I’m proud of you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #harry styles angst #harry styles ppd #harry styles pregnancy #finelinevogue blurbs #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #i have a basic taste in men #harry styles depression #finelinevogue harry masterlist #harry styles little moments #little moments pregnancy #little moments masterlist #little moments finelinevogue #harry styles x reader depression #harry styles sad #harry styles fluff #harry styles dad angst #dad!harry

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844 

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

Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 

Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4” 

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!” 

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 

“That’s really good pat-” 

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 

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

“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched. 

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 

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

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #anxceitmus #ts anxceitmus #familial anxceitmus #kid!patton #anxceit #ts anxceit #dukexiety #ts dukexiety #ts dukeceit #dukeceit #demus #ts demus #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #logince #ts logince #ts patton #ts virgil #ts remus #ts janus #ts roman #found family #parental moxiety #platonic creativitwins #requests

[dakarimainink]

Babybump

WARNING: Fluff, a hint of angst, cute

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x You (Reader)

Wordcount: 1.4K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own.

"Hey, I love you writing and I was wondering if you can do a Pedro imagine where the reader is pregnant and like they didn’t announce it or anything and no one knew about it till they were seen in public. You can change it up if you want! Xx✨"

Okay, I am a slut, not even gonna try and hide it. As this was a request, I wasn't sure if you wanted smut or not, so that's why it is in two parts. Part one is pure fluff and no smut. Part two however is a smutty scene for those of you who wants to read about how they conceived the baby.

Enjoy! 💛

Part 2

Masterlist

You are nervous. It is obvious by the way you cling to Pedro in the backseat on your way to the gala. Your fingers intertwined into his big hand as you fiddle with the hem of his suit jacket.

He is nervous too, not because people will probably speculate, but he worries about you. The news is big, but neither of you like it when the media tries to poke into your private life before you are both ready to reveal it. It will come out eventually, but you want it to be from you and not rumours and pictures roaming about.

Your family and closest friends know. You chose to break the news three weeks ago. You remember the tears in your mother’s eyes and the warmest hug from Pedro’s father. But what truly stuck with you, was the moment you confirmed it to Pedro.

You knew for about five days without telling anyone. Pedro was away filming but had managed to squeeze in a night with you on a rainy Saturday. You had planned to go out for dinner, but in the last minute, chose to have a pizza and movie night. Cleaning the dishes from the pizza and preparing some snacks in the kitchen, you decide it was time.

You turned to him, biting your lower lip and he knew there was something immediately. At first, worry painted his face and he had walked over to you and wrapped you in his arms, kissing your forehead softly and asking what was wrong.

Tears were prickling in your eyes and as you looked up at him, more worry grew and you couldn’t help but feel happiness fill your chest, knowing this man was the father to your child.

A smile stretched across your face as tears escaped the corners of your eyes and you told him.

He was frozen, scanning your face and he went through all kinds of emotions before his eyes crinkled up into a bright beam. He pulled you in, holding you tight to him while murmuring all kinds of sweet words. Kneeling, he snuck his hand under your t-shirt and spread his hand across your belly, warmth filling you up. “Our baby.” He had whispered before looking up at you with tear-filled eyes.

You had made sweet and passionate love that night, his focus on purely satisfying you over and over and over again.

Pedro catches your chin and tilts it up to meet your eyes. He notices the worry in your eyes and gives you a gentle smile. Carefully sliding his hand further up, he graces your cheek with his thumb before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You look perfect.” He smiles.

You smile back at him, feeling a lump of worry surge in your belly. You know you could leave whenever you want to, Pedro had even offered to not go at all. A part of you wants everyone to know, but another wants to keep it a secret for as long as you can.

The car stops and your heart skips a beat as our stomach feels with dread. Your fingers grasp onto his hand, you almost missed the worried look on his face, his eyes scanning your features.

“We don’t have to, my love.” He whispers, gently stroking the back of your hand.

You shake your head. “I know, but I can’t avoid it forever.” You gulp, staring into his eyes. They crinkle at the gentle smile. He leans forward gently peck your lips, leaving a lingering touch on you.

As you give him a nod, he opens the door and gracefully climbs out before holding out his hand to assist you out. You place your hand in his and plant your feet on the ground before he pulls you gently out.

As soon as you were both outside, flashes and yells from the paparazzi filled your ears. Trusting Pedro to lead the way, he guides you onto the carpet and pulls you close to him, his hand resting on your side as you both face the paparazzi. From all the comments, none of them mention the tiny bump on your belly.

You sigh out in relief and feel more confident in your posture, straightening your back.

Pedro immediately notices and glances down at you with nothing but love in his eyes. His fingers twitch into your flesh before his thumb strokes up and down, bringing you more comfort.

~~~~~

You lay peacefully in Pedro’s arms, the morning sun peeking in between the curtains and a stripe of warmth licks your leg as it rests over Pedro’s hip. You listen to each other’s slow and steady breathing.

He had apologised for waking you up when he pulled you to him that morning, but you didn’t mind at all. It is where you belong, close to him. He left a few soft kisses on your forehead while you lay there resting, enjoying the calm morning. But the calm is interrupted as both of your phones won’t stop buzzing.

Pedro sighs, knowing exactly what all the texts are about. He had peeked at his phone before pulling you in, several messages commenting on today’s news. He had hoped it wouldn’t turn into something, but here you both lay, you – wondering what it all is about, him – wanting to shield you from the storm.

“Pedro?” You breathe, your eyes looking up at him from behind your eyelashes. “What is going on?” You have a feeling this is about last night’s appearance, but you wait for him to confirm it.

He looks down at you, a calm smile painting his lips. “Nothing we have to care about for now, my love.” He presses his lips to your forehead and nuzzles you closer to him.

You sigh out and drift off in his protective arms, knowing whatever is going on right now, didn’t need your attention.

~~~~~

He looks handsome, his calmness and confidence match great with his casual outfit. His hair slightly tussled from dragging his fingers through it again and again. You like his natural curls mixed with his grey peppered beard.

His eyes are resting on the woman sitting in front of him, but every time he glances at you, it fills you with butterflies. It’s not too obvious he is looking at you, as you’re standing a few strides behind the woman, listening to the ongoing interview of his newest movie.

“So, for some other big news, which I hope you can confirm for us, Pedro. A month ago, the internet went crazy over some new photos and headlines of you and your fiancé. Speculations of a potential new family member surged through several social medias. Could you perhaps talk a bit about that? Is it true?”

You knew the question would be asked, Pedro’s agent had agreed upon it before the interview took place. Pedro had asked you several times, if you wanted to go out with the news. You were a bit hesitant at first, but then again, might as well get it over with.

He gives the woman a smile before his eyes immediately seeks out yours, nothing but love is filled within his gaze. “It is with great pride and joy I can confirm my beautiful fiancé is carrying our future child. She is doing an amazing job and I can’t wait to become a father and see her be the mother of our baby.”

Your heart beats faster, tears brimming in your eyes as he speaks warmly of your future family. You know he is looking forward to it, but to see him like this, confirming the news and not leaving your sight, makes you warm from head to toe. You want to rush over to him, hold him close to you, but knowing interrupting the interview is not a good idea.

You wait patiently until the woman thanks Pedro for the interview. He immediately gets up from his chair and walks up to you, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head several times and you wrap your arms around him.

“I will forever mean it, my love. I can’t wait to see you be the mother of our child, to carry them, to feed them, to help them grow up. I know you’ll be the best at it and every obstacle we face, we will face them together.”

You pull him tighter to you, a tear escaping the corner of your eye. “I love you.” You mumble into his chest.

He buries his nose in your hair. “I love you too.” He whispers.

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)

@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44, @stevie75, @mswarriorbabe80, @anaaaispunk

#pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #fanfiction #writing #fanfic #rpf #real person fiction #fluff #ao3

[theglitterypages]

Secret Life of Gojo Satoru 2

Part 1

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x fem! Reader

Summary: What is the worst thing that could happen if you left the twins with their father?

Word Count: 1000+

~~~~~~~

“I'll be back soon okay? Behave with Dada, understood?” the twins just nodded their head and kissed your cheeks, when you flicked your eyes upwards you met Gojo's blue ones. “You know that I would always find out if you'll be feeding them tons of chocolate. No chocolates, or else you'll be sleeping at your room in Jujutsu High.” Gojo felt like his heart stopped beating, he knew that you're not lying, if there is anything he has learned in this marriage it is the fact that you never spat empty threats.

The first time you threatened him like this, he ignored it and still bribed the kids with sweets and when you found out, he did slept at his room in Jujutsu High, Yaga was laughing his ass off when he found out and he even mocked him of how he was the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the community but in the house you are the ruler, Gojo didn't mind it, he loves you so dearly and your toughness made him fall for you.

Gojo has a sweet tooth, it is because he has to keep on eating sweets because of his technique and even if you have a sweet tooth as well you wouldn't want your kids to have too much sugar and you have to remind Gojo over and over again that he shouldn't give them too much sweets, they have to learn to eat nutritious food and Gojo being Gojo, he uses the sweets to bribe the kids, that's why you were forced to teach him a lesson by letting him sleep in jujutsu high, much to Yaga's amusement.

With a pale face he picked up the twins and smiled at you sweetly, “No sweets for the kids today, got it Mama.” he told you and you laughed before kissing him on his cheeks, you heard him whine about how you missed his lips but you just stuck your tongue out. “You can have all the kisses later, Satoru but if you feed them sweets you should just kiss the wall.” Gojo dramatically looked at you and shook his head, “Then just give me one kiss right now, I need motivation baby.” the twins looked at their father with disgusted faces and when you were about to lean in to kiss Gojo, Akira cupped your face and kissed you instead.

Gojo never felt so betrayed in his whole life. He was about to lean in to kiss you but Akihiro pushed his face away before leaning towards you.

“Aww babies, I love you. Come here Hiro, let Mama kiss you.” Hiro giggled and gave you a kiss and you giggled at the two, “Better luck next time, Satoru.” you winked at your husband and went out of your house and you swear you could hear Gojo's whines about the kiss that he didn't get but you just laughed it off.

---

“Dada! We're hungry!” The twins told their father as they got tired of running around the house, so far Gojo is being able to manage to take care of the two and he felt relieved that they're not throwing tantrums as of now.

He pat their heads and stood up, “Alright, Dada will cook for you two. But you guys should behave. I'll turn on the TV, watch some cartoons and let Dada do the work is that okay?” the twins nodded their head in excitement and sat at the carpet on the living room while holding their toys, before Gojo left the living room to went to the kitchen he saw the twins held each other's hand as they watch. He couldn't help but smile at the sight, he decided to silently take a picture so he could show you later.

The twins are fond of fried chicken that's why Gojo decided to fry some but as he waits for the chicken to get cooked he heard a loud crash and he ran to see what happened and he was frozen at what he saw.

“Dada! Hiro broke the vase because he threw the ball!” Gojo's jaw dropped when he saw the vase, Hiro was pouting and glaring at his sister saying that she's not suppose to say what happened. Gojo immediately picked them up and made them sat at the couch as he clean the broken pieces of the vase, after making sure that it was all taken care of he looked at the twins.

Gojo is not that strict as a parent, he believes that his children should be guided in what they do not to be controlled on what to do and if they made a mistake they should learn from their own failures. But that's not the case with three year olds.

“Hiro, look at Dada.” he sat at the front of the two and gave them a smile to reassure them that he's not mad. “That vase is not really important because we can buy another but if something happened to you or to your sister, Mama and I would be upset because you two are our most valuable treasure. You were planning to clean your mess and hide it to Dada weren't you?” Gojo asked his son.

Akihiro looked at his tiny hands and sniffed, “Sorry Dada.” he whispered and Gojo cupped his face gently to make him look up at him, “Just promise you won't keep any secrets from Dada and Mama. Also, don't fight with Akira alright? You two should protect each other do you understand?” Hiro nodded his head and looked at his sister, he hugged her and kissed her cheeks. “Sorry, Kira.” Gojo smiled and ruffled their hair before standing up.

“Don't worry about the vase, I'll be the one to explain to Mama. Watch TV and wait for me to finish cooking.” he kissed their foreheads and went back to kitchen, thank goodness the chicken didn't get burned.

----

When Gojo finished cooking, he called the twins to the kitchen and made them sat on their designated chairs before he placed down their foods. “After eating, we'll take a bath. You two smell bad.” Gojo lied and the twins glared at him. “No! You are smelly Dada! Mama said we smell good!” he laughed as he saw the twins' noses turned red in annoyance, it's a thing that the two inherited from you, the only difference is that your whole face gets red every time you're annoyed.

It was cute and he loves that the twins got that trait from you, “Kira, don't be messy.” Hiro reached for a tissue and wiped his sister's mouth while Gojo watched them with a smile plastered on his lips, he can't believe these kids are his, he's thankful that he found a woman who was strong enough to stay with him and gave him two angels, he couldn't ask for more.

“Kids, look at here. Dada will send Mama a picture.”

The twins smiled at the camera and Gojo chuckled before sending them to you with a caption. “Our 12 rounds that night are worth it babe, look at our angels.” he knows he'll receive a smack for that caption but he'll cross the bridge when he get there.

As he had said, he have to give the twins a bath and they are both excited to take a bath so it wasn't a tough job for Gojo, “Dada you stink! Shower already!” Akira pinched her nose and frowned at Gojo, Hiro laughed and also started teasing his father. “That's why Mama didn't kiss Dada he smells bad!” Hiro splashed water to Gojo and Gojo gasped.

“Young man, you want a fight?”

“Kira help!”

The twins ended up giving their father a bath, Gojo was all wet and the kids are not yet done so he told them to settle down so he could finish and take a bath on his own.

After that, Gojo took them in their room and dressed them, he put some baby powder in their back and when they were all done he took the box of toys from the top of the cabinet so the twins could play in their room. “Stay here while I shower alright? Shout for Dada if you need something.” The twins are too busy playing to give him attention that's why they just gave him a thumbs up, Gojo shook his head with a chuckle before he ran to the bathroom and turn on the shower.

----

Akihiro got bored playing his toys and he poked his sister's arm. “This is not fun, let's play other things.” Akira frowned but agreed to her brother, “What are we gonna play though?” Akihiro looked around the room and his gaze landed at the pillow, he was planning on throwing it to Akira and have a pillow fight but whe he got closer to the pillows, he saw the big bottle of baby powder, Akihiro waste no time and turn the lid befor squeezing it.

Akira's face was so white because of the powder, she wiped away the powder on her face before glaring at her brother, Hiro giggled and run away, Akira looked around to search for the other bottle of baby powder since she knew they have so many of that and when she successfully saw one she climb on the chair and reach for the baby powder placed on the table. She climbed down the chair and removed the seal before squeezing it towards her brother's direction.

The floor became slippery because of the powder, the twins are falling around the room but they didn't mind it, instead they giggled every time they fall and as they keep on going, they ran out of baby powder.

“Mine's empty now, let me get another one.” Hiro told his sister before he climbed at the same chair where his sister climbed and took two bottles of baby powder giving the other one to Kira.

Their war resumed and at the exact moment, Gojo just got out of the shower, he could hear their giggles and he was about to smile but as he sense the trouble, he immediately ran and his knees almost gave in when he saw that the whole room is covered by powder.

“DADA!”

Gojo had to drop his infinity when the twins charged themselves towards him, the next thing he knew his face was now full of powder, the twins' giggles filled his ears and Gojo decided to laugh it off. “We're all so dead.” he wiped his face and looked at his children, being a mischievous dad that he is, he wiped his hands on their faces and the twin ran away from him.

The three of them ran inside the room, slipping from time to time, when Gojo finally caught the twins he carried them and shook them as an attempt to get rid of the powders, “Wow Dada is so strong!” Akihiro giggled while Kira held onto her Dad tightly, “Enough, enough, Dada too high, too high.” Gojo put them down in front of a full length mirror and he sat in between them, “Look at our faces. You think Mama will still love us?” the twins giggled and nodded their heads.

When you got inside the house the first thing you heard were giggles, as you follow the voices you stopped on the room of the twins and when you opened it you saw Gojo and the twins trying to get rid of the evidences of their mess.

Gojo's hair has never been whiter, he's not wearing any shirt and his whole body is full of baby powder. The twins? They're worse than that to the point that you couldn't even describe their apperances in words.

“Gojo Satoru.” you called your husband, your voice stern and your stare was blank.

And at that moment, Gojo knows that he fucked up.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojō x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo fanfic #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu x reader #jujutsu gojo

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains x Reader || Drabbles

Plots / Includes: Basically Freddy's S/O meeting Jason and Jason's S/O meeting Freddy.

Two unlikelies and unfortunates, honestly, get stuck in a room together.

Looking at this gif, does everyone understand what i mean when I say Freddy is a budgie???

Drabble #1 : Freddy Krueger's S/O and Jason.

Awkwardly you lean back on the wall, counting yourself lucky until this point, that Jason hadn't just killed you immediately. Though, you reckon that has something to do with the chains around his ankles. "So... "

As soon as he hears your voice, Jason looks slowly up from the ground where his gaze had been trained. You know not to flinch at the drop of a hat, though, and you've got pretty damn good practise in the art of keeping your natural bodily functions under control, too. That doesn't mean that look in his eyes doesn't make you wary.

Really, wary. You're well aware of Jason's abilities, and you don't trust that if given reason that he couldn't rip those chains right out of the wall.

Taking a deep breath, though, you raise your brows at the chains keeping you safe, chewing on your bottom lip. "That cant be comfortable. I, um... " You shake your head, awkward. "I wouldn't like that."

Obviously he doesn't respond... but you do catch his eyes turn just slightly sad. His head turns down again, to look at the way that he's tied up like an animal, and you take that as a chance.

Cautiously approaching him, you hold up your hands in the universal 'No-harm-meant' gesture, a look that hopefully reveals your true intentions clearly, rather then the threatening ones Jason might be inclined to believe you have. Really, you just want to help him. Truly.

So, chewing on the inside on your cheek you show him your hands... carefully getting down onto your knees before him. "... trust me?"

He shakes his head, and since he did that rather then wrap one of those hands around your throat and squeeze until you're dead, you just give him a little smile. "Don't I have a trustworthy face?"

And then he looks at you carefully. Most people would look back at Jason, or just at Jason, and think there isn't much substance going on in there. But you've been through this before and just as you managed to see through Freddy, you see the sensible sceptic in Jason clear as day.

And you don't blame him, for not being sure of you. You wish that you could, but you cant.

Lowering your arms, you sit down back on your heels, basically leaving yourself without defence. "... He doesn't have anything to do with this." Earnestly you look at him. "I promise." Shrugging, you allow a tiny sweet smile on your face. "I just want to help you."

The moment you see his hard gaze on you soften a little bit, become the tiniest bit more lenient, you pull a pin out of your hair and show it to him, holding it next the lock between his legs. "Now would you just let me unlock you, you stubborn old goat?"

~

"So this is a lot harder then I anticipated... " You say, tweaking away at the lock with your hair pin and chewing concentratedly on the inside of your cheek. Knitting your brows together, you try a little harder. "Mmm... "

After a few more moments, you sigh and tuck some hair back behind your ear- looking back up to Jason who's watching your attentions carefully. "So. Big strapping man like you- you got a sweetheart by any chance?"

When he just stares back, a snort escapes you and you grin, turning back down to the lock and getting back to work. "Sorry. Just making conversation. This isn't much like a hairdressers chair, though, is it? Not even a dentist's... "

Another couple moments of peaceful silence lays out ahead of the two of you when you notice Jason shift- and look up, immediately, to see what he's up to. Tilting your head to the side, you watch him straighten up and pull something out of the inside of his jacket. Its a piece of paper, which he shows you.

On it is a picture of someone who's, assumedly at Crystal Lake, smiling at the camera, and totally beautiful in that they don't look to have been uncomfortable in any way in the moment that the photo was taken. Its not at all like a normal photo, like when you stand up for a family photo with your siblings or your classmates at school. They're just grinning, easy.

Probably because they're with Jason.

The picture makes you smile. "That's them?"

He nods, and your smile widens.... before faltering, just the tiniest bit. "... You don't think, that... if I'm, locked up here with you... and in the grand randomness of that... uhm, that your... that they're... " You take a deep breath, roll your eyes and force the last bit out, pointing at the photo. "That they're with Freddy, then? In a similar place?"

Jason's eyes immediately go cold, and you follow suit. You can only imagine how that one's, going.

"Yeah... Fuck indeed."

Drabble #2 : Jason Voorhees' S/O and Freddy.

As soon as you woke up, and dragged the bag off of your head and saw that man, you knew you must be in hell, or something. That asshole that tried to use Jason, and then get rid of him, once he wouldn't do as he was told anymore.

Fucking Freddy Krueger.

You cant with this fuck; You really cant.

So quickly you had clocked the chains around his ankles and found a spot on the floor on the other side of the room, without a word. You don't dare to even look his way, lest you take off your shoe - the only viable weapon in the mysterious room, - and beat him with it.

-Freddy, though, has not got the message. He seems to have no qualms about talking to you... or more likely, bothering you.

"Okay okay okay, how about this one," He speaks up once again from the other side of the room, sending tweaks of annoyance through your very soul. Your eyes flutter shut at the sound of his voice, hoping to calm down and not want to kill him quite so badly. "If you're American when you go into the bathroom, and you're American when you come out again, then what are you when you're in there?" Obviously you don't respond, but of course that does not stop him. "Europee'en!"

You still don't respond, but by the sound of Freddy's obnoxious smokers cough of a laugh you gather that he's having plenty of fun acting as if you weren't there at all. Even if he must speak outloud.

And apparently he must.

"What did the fish say when he ran into a wall, huh??? DAM!"

The silence becomes deafening.

"What do you call a can opener that doesn't work?... A can't opener- "

"Oh my god." Finally, you whip around and glare. "Cant you shut up for 2 seconds??"

He looks all too pleased to have gotten a response out of you finally, and you feel sick for having given it to him. "Sure I can, but how cruel would that be? A gentleman like myself couldn't let another ... prisoner... like yourself sit here in silence ruminating in their own misery." He tilts his head to the side, and you glower back. "Missing Jason yet?"

Oh and the look on your face just gets darker. "He'll be fine. He's not easily taken down. You know that perfectly well."

The way Freddy's face drops causes excitable sparks to flash through you like little freight trains. "Bitch."

"Uhuh." You roll your eyes, turning back to your wall. There you continue to draw, with your fingers; There's nothing else to do! Before you were drawing a castle, but now you're fingers create the shape of a dock in your head... wonder why.

You can feel Freddy's glower on the back of your head but you finally feel a bit of piece.

~

Hours later and you're still stuck in that cell together, and you're actually starting to get worried. "Ughhhh... where even are we... "

"You think I know?"

"Well excuse me for thinking this purgatory has to have something, to do with you."

"All I know is of all the people in the world I could have gotten stuck in here with, I got you. And honestly I'd prefer a Teletubby." He growls back out, sounding as if he's rolling his eyes. "Hm... you don't think if you're here with me... that Hockey-Puck's locked up somewhere with my, uh, ball and chain, do ya?"

Your face screws up at that, because first of all- Turning your head to look at him, you raise an unbelievably confused brow. "Someone likes you??"

"Oh they like me plenty." Freddy smirks, a mouthful of other dirty ways to put it but deciding to take the tiniest bit of pity on you.

Trying not to groan, you look away from him again. "... well, even if Jason is with this probably imaginary person, its not like we could get to them!! What can we even do with that information." You sigh, collapsing back on the ground and blowing air out from your cheeks as you stare at the ceiling with the hopelessness of it all.

And up... up... up... the ceiling... Until you see a ventilation grate.

Eyes immediately widening, you roll over onto your stomach and your arms, not taking your eyes off the vent over Freddy's head, which he now follows your gaze up to as well now. And promptly drops his jaw.

"Has that been there this whole time!?"

You honestly aren't sure. But what you are sure of, is that this vent may be your chance to get the hell away from this man, and find Jason, and your eyes slowly fall down to land on Freddy. Who you don't like or care about at all, but know is thinking the exact, same, thing now. If he can get out he can find this person he cares about.

"Give me a leg up?"

#Freddy VS Jason #Jason Voorhees #Freddy Krueger #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Jason Voorhees x Reader Drabble #Freddy Krueger x Reader Drabble #Jason Voorhees x Reader #Jason Voorhees x Freddy Krueger's S/O #Freddy Krueger x Jason Voorhees S/O #Jason Voorhees S/O #Freddy Krueger's S/O #Drabbles #Horror Villains Drabbles #Horror Villain Drabbles #Rigby

[checkingoutforheroes]

B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL.

Part 2.

Avengers x fem!reader 

Pt.1

Words: 1892

Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol. Will a young, damaged and broke girl agree to this initiative and help a team to save this planet earth?

Main Masterlist 

Maria and Fury bring you to The Avengers tower for mission briefing and meet the rest of the team. To be honest, you are beyond excited you see the building. You move from your seat to another, looking out of the window, facing the tower. Maria looks at you at the rear view mirror, seeing your awe face and smile. “If you open that window, I might’ve mistaken you with a dog.” You ignore her comment and ask them “Is this S.H.I.E.L.D? You guys work here? You build this place papa Bear? This is taller than I thought it would be!”

Fury look at you and then Maria “Now she’s excited.” Maria answer your question. “That is Avengers tower. S.H.I.E.L.D no longer exist. Burn to the ground.” You didn’t keep up about them after left the agency so you don’t know what happened. “What happened? Did this moody papa Bear show his emotion through action?” You let out a small laugh until Fury annoyed “Once again you call my name other than Fury, I’ll burn you too.” “Nahh, you’re not going to burn me. You need me. Otherwise, I’m not in this car right now. I said to him and Maria drive through the parking basement. “She got you, boss.”

Fury walk ahead to their meeting room. You stop your track when you see an aquarium placed at the wall. You never see something like that before in your life. When Maria realize that you are not walking behind her, she turns back to get you. “What are you doing?” “Looking at these fish in an aquarium stuck on the wall. How they do that? How they going to feed the fish? Rich people shit, quite awesome.” You said and Maria just shake her head. “We have a world crisis and the first thing you did is watch the fish?! Are you kidding me? Let’s go meat the team.”

 Meanwhile Fury already told the team about a new protocol or whatever. You didn’t hear that clearly until you are inside the room. Fury talk to them. “Since all of you are here, including Maximoff, I have a new protocol that you can use.” Steve looking confusing at Fury. “We already made a plan.” Tony interrupt to teasing Steve “Yeah and a good ted talk by the captain too.” Natasha asking about the protocol. “Do we know about the protocol?” Fury take a seat “No, Romanoff. No one knows about this protocol except Agent Hill. This protocol was created to help the team when in need, and this team clearly need it right now.” Steve ask him. “What protocol is that?” Natasha looking at Clint and he shrug. “B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL.” Tony just laugh while Steve have a serious face looking at him. “I’m sorry. That’s kinda funny name for a protocol.” Maria open the door and you both going in. All eyes on you and you feeling slightly nervous. How can you not, they are The Avengers! You recognize all of their face except one person wearing black dress and red cardigan.  

Fury introduce you to the team. “Right on time. Avengers, I introduce you B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL, as in Best Associate By Yours truly.” Maria added “Also, we call her Baby.” They are quiet and shock appear in their faces except two people. Natasha and Clint. They go greet you. “Baby!” Natasha walks to hug you while Tony look at you two weird. “Nat! Omg, I miss you. Clint! Miss you too!” You hug Clint and he hold your head. “Well, she grows up.” “Yeah, with some food and water, I did. Man, you’re old.” You said to him and Natasha smile “Kids growing, Barton.” “Natasha, beautiful as always. You have to drop your skin care routine, sis.” Tony interrupt the moment “You both knew her? Fury, you said no one know about this protocol.” Fury nods. “I said no one know about this protocol not that Romanoff and Barton didn’t know her.”

Steve starts asking question. “How old are you?” Tony interject again. “Yeah. You don’t look like a baby to me.”

             You looking back at Steve, smirk on your face. “How old are you?” Maria sign you to behave. “Baby.” Tony sit down at one of the chair. “I like this kid already!” He earns a glare from Steve and you apologizing “I’m sorry. That’s not a good first impression. I’m 22.”

“What is your name?” Damn he is a serious one.

             “People call me Baby.”

“What people didn’t call you?”

             “If they didn’t call me? Silence, I guess.” You whisper at Natasha left ear “Can I not tell them my name?” She crooks a little smile. “It’s up to you.” “I prefer being call by that name that Maria & Fury has told you or anything you want except my real name due to personal reason.” You nod and smile at them.

“Why? Dark past? Major criminal? Wanted by CIA? Interpol? MI6? Ugly name? Kicked out of family or something?” Seriously, how can they work as a team with a guy name Tony Stark? Maria, Natasha and Clint have your back.

“She’s here to help us. Nothing else, Stark.” Maria said to him.

Natasha glare at him. “I suggest you stop right there or you’re not going to see any sunlight.”

Clint agree with them. “Leave her alone man.” Tony look guilty. “Everybody in this room has dark past. I’m just curious, not judging. She’s not alone.” Wanda tell them that he told the truth. “He’s not lying.” “Thank you Wendy. Peace?” You walking toward him “No heart feeling.” You guys fist bump each other.

Steve ask again. “How do you know Barton and Romanoff?”

             “While I was in S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, which I thought a Juvenile school at first, they trained me combat espionage. Since that’s the only thing on my expertise. I wish to have Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz brain though. They’re genius in bio-chem and engerneering.”

“Why you thought it was juvenile at first? You commit crime?”

             “Duh.” Both you and Tony said it at the same time and again “JINX!” Natasha look at Steve. “Relax captain, all of us commit crime back then.” “I didn’t” Tony look at him. “Are you sure about that?” “What do you mean Stark?” Steve ask and he say “You literally cheated your medical checkup to join the army.” “I did it to protect our country.” Steve said and Clint chuckle “Still crime.” Fury tell Maria to handle the briefing and he’s out. You ask where is he going? “Where is he going?” “He have another thing to do Baby.”

             “I know most of you but I don’t think I know or seen you, Mr. ?” You ask and Natasha introduce him. “That is Dr. Bruce Banner.”

             You shake his hand. “Nice to meet you. What did you do?”

Bruce seems like to hesitate to answer that. “You didn’t know? New York?”

             “Alien? Chitauri?” You ask him back innocently.

“Um. I’m, the big green guy.” He anxiously answers that.

             “An ogre! Wow, that is so cool!” Clint hold my shoulder. “The other green, buddy.” “Oh, I know. I’m sorry, I forgot your ogre name is Shrek. Still cool though. I watch all of his movies when I was a kid. Maybe we can watch it again sometimes.”

Bruce look at Natasha and then back at you. “That’s, not me either, but yeah, we can watch that, big green cartoon sometimes.” Tony finally tell you who he is. “You seriously don’t remember who broke New York kid? He’s The Hulk!” Bruce looks down and tilt his head to look at Tony. “Yes. I’m that! Thank you for bringing back memory, Tony!”

             You feel guilty for not remember that. “Gosh, I’m so sorry. But hey, New York already broken before you broke it. Can I have a selfie? You’re incredible.” You snap the picture before he even answers. Tony said something “I’m literally right here. The coolest guy in the group.” You turn your head to the girl in black dress, red cardigan. “And you are?”

She answers with a thick accent “Wanda Maximoff.”

             “You’re not from here? You have an accent just like Nat. Well, once she’s mad at me during training years ago.” You remember the detail and Natasha rolls her eyes at you. “That is one time. I slipped.” “Human make mistakes sis. You aren’t machine.”

“I just got here yesterday. I made a mistake. Wrong judgement, I want to make it right. I join them.” She explains and you currently melting, just to hear he talk. You want her to talk more so you can hear her talk. Thing is, you didn’t know that she can read mind. Where is that accent came from? Russian? You ask those questions in your head. “From Sokovia.”

             “Where are you from? What? I just ask-“

Maria answer my question. “She’s a telekinesis, energy manipulation and some kind of neuroelectric interfacing.” “Huh?” You don’t even know what that is and Maria make it simple for you. “Telepathic.” You turn to look back at her. “That is so awesome!” Tony huff at your statement. “Yeah, until she’s in your head.” She just looking down “I’m sorry.”

 Right after she said that, Thor, God of Thunder walk into the room and tell about the scepter. You are amazed and suddenly you bend the knee. “Oh. My. God. You’re Thor!” He looks back at you. “and you tiny female human.” “You. Are. the God of Lightning! I am a fan! No. I’m an air-conditioner.” He smiling, feeling proud. “Thank you, tiny human lady. It’s God of Thunder, actually. What’s an air-conditioner?”

Maria gives us final brief. “You guys might want to prepare something for tomorrow. We’re flying to Korea and find Dr. Chow tomorrow morning. Get some rest, sleep early, you guys need it.”

             You ask them a question. “Can I go back to my place, then come back? Clint can you take me?” “Yeah, I can.” Steve kind of not agree with you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why? I need to take my stuff.” “I can pick her up tomorrow.” You and Clint said and Steve ask you again. “Do you have a suit? or uniform?” You unzip your sweater and show your Donut Do It uniform. “Will, this do? Because someone decided that it was okay to give a surprise visit when I’m on my way to work.” Maria just smirking at you and Natasha smile “I don’t think that appropriate gear for the field.”

Tony offers you to stay with them at the tower. “Captain’s right. Don’t want to risk anything on the team member night before fight. Stay here, I’ve got plenty of room. Natasha can show you. They basically live here. We have spare shirts too.” You look at Wanda “You live here too?” She’s thinking about the answer. “I spend the night here.” Natasha turn you to look at her. “That’s a good idea. Just stay here tonight. Wanda’s here too.” “Natasha can show you your room, take a shower and dinner later.” Tony said. You look at Maria by the mention of dinner. She sighs “Okay, spaghetti and chicken wings.” Natasha add “And caramel pudding?” You smile at her “You remember?!” “Of course I do.” Clint jokingly say “How can she not, you guys practically sisters.”

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Thank you for spending your time reading this. Feel free to reblog or ask me anything, thank you in advance!

Part 3 is coming!

#Avengers #The Avengers #natasha romanoff #black #Black Widow #tony stark #wanda maximoff #Steve Rogers #clint barton #bruce banner #thor #loki #Scarlet Witch #Iron Man #captain america #hawkeye #hulk #shrek #god of thunder #age of ultron #jarvis #vision #marvel incorrect quotes #avengers x reader #avengers!reader #natasha x sis!reader #natasha x reader #wanda x reader #tony x reader

[quirky-hero-imagines]

Office work is dirty work

Pairing: Enji Todoroki (Endeavor) x F!reader

Genre: Smut/lemon, Romance

Warnings: Sexual content, office sex, clothed sex, size difference, non professional work dynamics, cursing

Endeavor’s agency is top-notch, up there with the best just like his hero status and that’s exactly what you were looking for.

You had graduated at the top of your class from the department of management at UA and many agencies scouted you. However, the one you wanted was one that you would have to approach yourself.

-

Endeavor didn’t have a doubt about hiring you after looking over your resume and your job interview. You were a bright, confident, and almost overqualified woman after all.

Enji had a great business instinct and even though he was a stubborn man he listened to your suggestions, making the job easy flowing and enjoyable for you.

-

He was a great boss but you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the tension between the two of you. It took some time to get used to his hardened personality but his appearance had enticed you from the moment you had met him. Both Enji’s hero costume and his casual business apparel were both tight around his massive arms, muscles straining against the material.

You did your best to keep things professional, only sneaking glances when you were sure he wasn’t looking. At least you did a better job of hiding it than he did, his eyes boldly trailing down your body daily.

Enji had been in your head as you touched yourself at night more times than you cared to count, the desire for him to touch you building up for months. As you laid awake yet another night, hand between your slick thighs, you decided that it was time to fan his flames just a little more.

-

Papers rustle in Enji’s quiet office as he studies them with a frown on his face. The disappointment in his recruits washes over him as documents of bad press and damage settlements catch his eye. He sighs, not having anyone but himself to blame for his selection.

A soft knock at Enji’s door shifts his attention away from the paperwork. “May I come in, Mr. Todoroki?” He hears your sweet voice call out and he straightens his blouse out before calling out that you may.

He shifts in his massive office chair as you enter, abruptly being reminded of your outfit of the day. In the morning he thought that maybe his fantasies had spilled over to reality when his eyes had caught your form.

You weren’t wearing anything scandalous, looking as business-oriented as ever, but the slight change that was present made Enji’s cock strain in his pants. You had traded your standard white blouse and black pencil skirt that went to cover till over your knees out for something slightly more revealing. A black silk blouse hugging your bosom, teasing a bit of cleavage, and a dark red pencil skirt that cuts off a bit above your knees.

Enji felt ashamed over his lewd thoughts. It was a mundane outfit that you probably had thought nothing off when you put it on and as your boss, he should see it that way too. But it was you in the outfit, a woman who he had wanted badly for a tortuously long time now.

His elbows rest on his desk, his fingers interwoven in front of his chin as he watches you, hips going side to side as you strut towards his desk.

Enji’s eyes trace over every curve that your clothing allows him to see, eager for more.

A smile shows on your face as you approach your boss, heart fluttering from seeing him again. You knew he had taken notice of your outfit since the morning, but pride fills you again nonetheless when you notice his eyes are practically glued to you. Nothing had been said or done but you could feel the tension weighing heavier than before, your dreams becoming closer and closer to reality.

“The pictures of Deadnite that got leaked have been taken care of. The only existing hard copies are in this file.” You wave a thick file around in your right hand before sliding it onto your boss’s desk.

The Pro hero Deadnite’s file keeps on landing on your desk, this time for having pictures leaked of him in compromising positions. Enji trusts you with keeping or taking this kind of bad publicity out of the hands of the press, which is a hard task, to say the least.

“Thank you for taking care of it so swiftly.” Enji grumbles as he takes the file and flips through it. He takes a look at the pictures before throwing the file back down on his desk with a sigh. The excitement for you exits his body, work crudely drawing him back in.

You notice the shift in Enji’s expression, making you bite your lip at if you should try something to get his attention back. Your eyes fall on the empty coffee mug on his desk.

“I’ll get you some coffee Mr. Todoroki.” You say, making him blink in confusion for a second as he forgot the mug even existed, never mind that it was empty.

You bend your upper body over the big oak wood desk, taking your time to reach the mug on the other side. Enji’s gaze quickly falls on your cleavage, getting a better view of it than ever before as you pick up the mug next to his left arm.

He swallows thickly, his cock hardening as he admires your soft breasts.

Frustration washes over him when you move away again.

With the mug in hand, you stare at your boss from across the desk, wondering what he’s thinking as he frowns. Did you overstep?

Enji’s eyes meet yours, the intense blue seeming to have darkened with lust. “I think you’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn.”

You shift nervously on your feet, his booming voice making you unsure if he is angry. “I don’t know-” You start, eyes aimed at the ground but he quickly cuts you off. “Don’t fake innocence. I’m not angry.” Your eyes snap back up at his words, the tension leaving your body at that reassurance.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but it seems you are craving something from me.” Enji says, flashing a cocky grin at you, a rare sight. You feel heat rising to your cheeks at his words.

“Come here.” He pushes himself away a bit from his desk, tapping his leg to motion you to sit on his lap. You walk around his desk over to his side, legs shaky from adrenaline as you wonder what’s to come.

Enji hums in satisfaction as you sit down on his lap, one of his hands half reaching around you to hold your waist. A shiver runs down your body as he brings his face closer to yours, hot breath tingling against your neck. “You are a smart girl. You should know better than to tease a man like me.” He speaks softly, chuckling.

You gasp out as his free hand grabs onto your chin, roughly pulling it to make you face him. Enji’s lips meet yours in a blink of an eye, pulling you into a rough kiss. His lips feel like they are on fire as they move against yours, his tongue making use of your tiny gasps as it quickly enters your mouth.

You can’t help but moan into the kiss. The way that his arm around your waist pulls you tightly against his broad chest as he kisses you making heat rise between your legs.

Enji’s fire is felt by you at every touch. The heat of his skin, his almost burning lips and the taste of smoke as he tangles his tongue with yours is more intense than you ever imagined.

You move to hold onto him, hands tiny against his shoulders. Flinging your legs over his free one, you move yourself to sit directly on his lap. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel Enji’s cock rubbing up against your thighs, the length of it being a welcome surprise.

The tight grip on your chin disappears, Enji moving his lips away from yours. You look up at your boss, lustful eyes focused on his stern face. It isn’t easy to know what he is thinking, but in this case, his eyes betray him just as much as yours do.

Enji’s gaze moves up and down your body. One of his calloused hands runs over one of your thighs before giving it a generous squeeze, causing you to squeal out. A slight smirk tugs at the sides of his lips as he kneads the soft flesh under his hand.

“Tell me how long you have wanted this, wanted me.” Your response gets stuck in your throat as Enji’s lips move to your neck, placing bruising kisses along it. “F-for months.” You stutter out. His teeth teasingly graze your sensitive flesh, lips already just below your collarbone.

You take a sharp breath and brace yourself against Enji as his lips find your breasts. His bruising kisses turn literal as he starts marking your exposed skin. You writhe under his touch, the wetness between your thighs starting to dampen your panties.

The hand on your thigh had been forgotten, making you jolt when it slips under your skirt. Enji’s fingers rub over your clothed sex, making the material even wetter. You hear him chuckle against your skin, pleased with your body’s reaction.

Enji’s mind is completely clouded by lust, his intention to tease you until you cry wavering as he grows impatient. He has already imagined what your tight heat would feel like around him more than enough, he wants the real thing.

Dragging your soaked panties to the side, you feel two of Enji’s fingers prod at your entrance. You mewl loudly as the intrusion of his fingers stretches your walls deliciously. His fingers find little resistance as he slides them in and out of your soaked pussy, spurring him on to not go gentle.

Enji’s cock twitches under you as he gets the first feel of your tightness. His lips move away from your breasts so he can watch your face. The way you switch between biting your lip to opening them into a pleasured O, making him wish he had the time to slide his cock between them.

But Enji knew it would only be a matter of time before some emergency would come up that would require his attention and he wanted to make sure your pussy was dripping with cum by then.

He continues his motions, fucking you on his fingers, stilling now and then to spread his fingers in a scissoring movement. Your nails are felt through his blouse as you dig them in harshly.

Your eyes flutter closed in bliss when Enji’s fingers curl inside you, rubbing your sweet spot in hasty motions. He feels your walls flutter around him, the tension in your core building to your climax. With a few more precise flicks of his fingers, he has you coming undone around him, making you bite your lip hard to stifle your moans.

Enji groans as he pulls his fingers out of your twitching heat. They glisten, coated in your slick. You take hold of his wrist, drawing his fingers to your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes, you suck at his fingers eagerly. You notice a slight twitch in his face as you clean him up, his patience snapping,

As soon as you release Enji’s fingers his hands grab onto your waist roughly. He lifts you off of his lap before bending you over his desk, cock eagerly rubbing against your ass. He leans over your form. “Better bite down on something.” He whispers in your ear, causing you to whimper under him.

Your forearms are planted against the cold wood, bracing yourself as Enji drags his pants and boxers down behind you. His fingers pull your panties to the side and your breath stops for second as you feel the head of his cock poke between your folds. It feels like your held in breath gets knocked out of you as he starts sliding in. Your walls ache as he works in his cock inch by inch, his girth stretching you like nobody has before.

“Oh my god, Todoroki.” You moan, your jaw dropping as he sheaths himself fully inside of you. Enji’s fingers let go of your panties, leaving them tugged against your thigh. “I never gave you permission to not address me as your superior.” He lands a hard smack against your ass, your skin reddening instantly under your skirt. You hiss through your teeth, pussy clenching around his cock from his harsh treatment.

“I’m sorry sir!” You yelp out as Enji slides his cock out of you almost completely before ramming it back in. “That’s right.” He groans and grips your hips with a bruising force.

You feel your body rocking forward into the desk with every thrust, his pace being slow but hard. The way his cock drags against your walls making you mewl.

Enji admires your smaller frame under him as he fucks you, groaning as his eyes fall on your pussy. His cock twitches inside of you as he watches it slip in and out of your soaked hole, lips eagerly gripping and sucking him in every time his pelvis meets your ass.

His speed picks up, the desire to see you completely unravel under him becoming unbearable. You scream out his name, his title, anything your mind still allows you to muster up, making one of Enji’s hands move to cover your mouth. “Do you want everyone in the office to known that I’m fucking you?!” He hisses.

Enji’s fast pace and sharp thrusts have your eyes rolling back, the tension in your core starting to build again. His hand on your hip pulls you to meet a hard thrust, your legs shaking as he hits your sweet spot with such force. Your walls flutter in pleasure, the feeling of them around his cock spurring him on even more.

“Cum for me!” Enji groans. Your muffled moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin are resonating in the room, hopefully not too loudly.

You bite into his hand as you cum hard around his cock, moving back against him to intensify it. Behind you Enji curses loudly before giving your ass another hard smack, making your pussy quiver around him.

He groans your name, giving one more snap of his hips before spilling his seed into you. You whimper as hot ropes of cum fill you, a bit of it slipping past his cock onto your thighs.

Enji’s hand leaves your mouth, knuckle stroking over the arch of your back as you shiver. He pulls his cock out of you, gathering the cum that’s spilling out on the head and pushing it back into you. After he is done he moves your panties back over your reddened pussy with a snap, chuckling as you yelp out.

You groan as he urges your tired body off of his desk. When you are off Enji pushes you to your knees and it’s clear to you what he wants. You open your mouth and he wastes no time in sliding his cock into your mouth.

You take in as much as you can, hollowing your cheeks to accommodate the girth as you suck him clean. Tasting the mixture of both of you makes your lust bloom up yet again but he pulls your head away after just a minute.

Enji smirks slightly as he tugs his cock back into his boxers and buckles his pants back up. Your eyes can’t help but stay focused on his big hands working his buckle, more sinful fantasies involving it starting to form.

You get up when he’s dressed and a dark blush spreads over your face as what just happened dawns on you. You just fucking your boss, oh no. You feel like turning on your heel and storming out right that second, too embarrassed and worried to form a sentence.

Enji’s hand catches your chin, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I hope you are aware that after today you’ll be assigned a new daily task. Clear an hour out of your schedule for it.” He tells you, so business-like that if you weren’t just fucked silly by him you wouldn’t have gotten it. He lets go of your chin and moves away as you stare at him.

You nod your head, smiling at your boss. “I’ll be right on it Mr. Todoroki.” Sitting back on his chair, he straightens out his blouse before returning to his paperwork.

You start to walk out of his office, a bit wonky in your heels. Enji clears his throat behind you, making you stop and turn around. He points at the coffee mug and at first, you think he’s joking, but as he picks it up and hands it to you you realize he isn’t.

You take the mug from Enji with a sheepish grin before walking out. The door falls shut behind you, leaving you wondering what you have gotten yourself into as your heart beats fast in your chest.

#enji todoroki #enji x reader #endeavor #enji smut #enji lemon #endeavor x reader #bnha enji #enji todoroki x reader #smut #lemon #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha x reader #imagines #bnha imagines #scenarios #bnha scenarios #endeavour fanfic #fanfic #endeavour #enji #bnha smut #bnha lemon

[lovemeleo]

Cat Dads

Well, I’m finally back. Hope you all are doing well! This idea popped into my head out of nowhere. It’s the third part to my Nuny fic where Jackson gets injured. I’ll link those two fics below! This is completely un-beta’d so I apologize for any errors. These amazing characters belong to the always fantastic @lumosinlove. 

- Ignite Your Bones

- Love You Through It

***

There is no way to explain the sweet relief of seeing your leg again after 8.5 weeks of it being covered by a cast. 

Zhenya’s nose crinkled when he saw Jackson’s leg, “You have skin. Like fish.” And honestly he wasn’t wrong. Jackson had made the same face when the cast was fully removed but it’s apparently normal.

“Scales, babe. And my skin’s just dry. The doctor said it should flake off though, like in the shower.” Jackson said, fixing the boot back over his jeans. Zhenya’s English was really good, but there were some words that he still didn’t know just because it didn’t come up in conversation. Like scales.

Zhenya picked him up from the doctor’s office and now they were on their way to get lunch, which was apparently a surprise. Jackson had been asking since before they left for the appointment but Zhenya was holding strong.

He thought it might be the pasta place they both loved that was down the street from the rink, but Zhenya drove right by that as well. Actually, he drove all the way out of Gryffindor.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going yet?” Jackson asked, looking out the window to see if he could possibly guess. To be completely honest, he didn’t really know the area very well. For as long as they’d lived here, they didn’t tend to leave Gryffindor too often.

Zhenya gave him an exasperated look as he drove, “I tell you, it’s not surprise. We’re almost there anyway, котенок. So impatient.” He muttered, though the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile as his boyfriend grumbled next to him.

Not long after, a smile appeared on Zhenya’s face as he turned into a parking lot, “Okay, котенок. We’re here.”

Jackson was looking out the window as soon as they turned into the lot, his eyes on the sign. It read ‘Cats in Cups’ across the sign with a cute little picture of a kitten in a coffee mug.

His head whipped to look at Zhenya who couldn’t help the giant grin that had spread on his face, “A cat cafe?” Jackson said, unable to help the childlike excitement that seeped into his voice. He had always loved cats. When he was a kid, they always had at least two or three in their house.

“Surprise!” Zhenya said, as he pulled into a spot. “Good surprise, yeah? I bring my котенок to see all the little котенок.” As soon as he put the car in park, Zhenya was pulled in for a deep kiss.

Jackson smiled into the kiss, his hands on either side of Zhenya’s face as he pulled away, “A great surprise, babe. Thank you.” He murmured, leaning in to give him a quick peck before opening his door. Zhenya quickly ran over to his boyfriend’s side of the car, helping him get out.

Putting pressure on his foot again was weird, a bit achy, but it was nice to be able to walk without crutches, “Let’s go see some kitties.” Jackson said, a giddy smile spreading on his face as they made their way inside.

The cafe was empty other than the worker behind the counter when they stepped in, Jackson’s eyes quickly flitting over the room to all of the cats. There were around fifteen or so, some wandering around while others were sprawled on tables or cat trees. It was practically heaven.

A younger woman stood behind the counter, her name tag on the red apron reading Jaz. “Welcome to Cats in Cups!” She said, a wide welcoming smile on her face as she glanced down at a clipboard on the counter in front of her. “My name is Jaz, and I’m gonna guess that you’re Evgeni and Jackson?” 

Zhenya nodded, “Yes, that’s us. You can just call me Kuny.” He said as they walked up to the counter.

“Well, welcome! We can get your order in and then you guys can play with the cats.” She said, checking them off on the list.

Looking up at the menu, they both ordered different lattes to try before finding a spot to sit. Jackson plopped himself right in the middle of the carpeted floor, stretching his left leg out as he watched all the cats watch them. 

As Zhenya sat down next to him, a small gray kitten found its way into Jackson’s lap. Trailing a gentle hand down the kitten’s back, Jackson smiled, “What’s this one’s name?” He asked, glancing up to where Jaz was carrying over their drinks.

Glancing down at the small ball of fluff, she smiled, “That’s Milo, he’s a scottish fold.”

Milo began making his way up Jackson’s chest, tiny paws carrying him up to cuddle into his shoulder. Zhenya quickly snuck a picture as the small kitten nuzzled into his boyfriend’s neck. 

Just as he was tucking his phone away, a large fluffy orange cat nudged at his hand, meowing at him indignantly. Zhenya couldn’t help but laugh as the cat rubbed up against his leg, “Hello there.” He murmured, carefully picking the cat up and cradling her in his arms like a giant baby.

Jaz laughed as she set down their drinks, watching as the giant men turned into puddles of soft at the sight of cats, “It seems Pumpkin has taken a liking to you.”

“I have taken liking to Pumpkin too.” Zhenya said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The cat practically vibrated out of his arms, purring so dramatically.

At this point, Jackson had collected another cat in his lap. Milo was still nuzzled into his neck but in his lap was a massive black cat. Zhenya thought Pumpkin was big but oh my goodness, the black cat definitely had her beat.

Evgeni reached over, letting the giant cat sniff him before gently scratching behind his ears, “He’s so big.” He murmured, watching as he flopped back onto Jackson’s lap.

“Yeah, that’s Loki, our god of mischief. He’s a maine coon with a habit of knocking drinks over as well as chairs. He normally sprawls across our front counter.” Jaz said with a laugh as she made her way back to the counter.

Jackson’s face lit up as he reached down to pet the giant cat, “Loki’s one of my favorite Marvel characters!” Loki leaned into his touch, a deep purr coming from his chest.

Leaning onto the counter, Jaz smiled, “Well, keep in mind: all of our cats are adoptable. It’s a three day process because we give them an veterinary exam and a cleaning, and everything. But then you could take them home.” She said before going back to work, unaware of the wide-eyed looks the two men shared. 

“We could get cats!” Jackson said, almost scaring both cats off of him. He quickly murmured soft apologies into their fur, holding them both close. Milo climbed down off his shoulder into his lap, curling up on top of Loki. Neither of them could help back the soft “aw” as Zhenya took another picture. 

Upset at the lack of attention, Pumpkin swatted her paw at Zhenya’s hand and let out what could only be equivalent to a heavy sigh. He couldn’t help but laugh as he started petting her again, “So sorry, милашка.” He murmured before glancing up at Jackson again. “You want cat?” 

Jackson nodded, unable to stop watching his boyfriend cuddle the orange fluff, “Yeah… yeah I really do. If it was a possibility, I would adopt all of these cats.” He said, gently petting the pile of cats in his lap.

They were both quiet for a while, enjoying their drinks, the cats as well as each other’s company. Just as Jackson took a sip of his coffee, Zhenya turned to him as he held Pumpkin closer.

“Let’s keep them.”

Jackson choked a bit, wiping the coffee that had fallen from his mouth before looking at Zhenya, “W-what? Keep?”

The other man was already nodding, his face hidden by Pumpkin’s fur, “Don’t want to leave her. Or them. We keep them all. Take them home. C’mon, котенок!” 

Jackson didn’t need him to beg. Honestly, he hadn’t even needed Zhenya to ask because as soon as these cats had crawled on top of him, he knew he couldn’t leave them behind, “Alright. Alright, yeah. Let’s keep them.”

You would’ve thought they’d won the lottery with the way Zhenya’s face lit up. And Jackson, being the smitten bastard he was, couldn’t help but smile right back at him.

“We need supplies.” Zhenya said, quickly pulling his phone back out. 

Jackson couldn’t help his little happy dance as he held onto the cats in his lap, “Just order it and we can have it delivered to the house.” Zhenya nodded as he ordered everything he could find on the pet store website that they’d need. Litter boxes, food, toys, beds and towers. 

“Jaz! We need paperwork!” Zhenya said, looking up from his phone.

A big smile lit up her face as she grabbed some paperwork from behind the counter, “I had a feeling we’d need some paperwork, so I started filling it out. Which one are you planning to adopt?”

Jackson smiled, gently running his hand over Loki’s back, “We’d like all three actually.” 

Her eyebrows went up in surprise, but if possible, her smile got exponentially bigger, “All three? Oh that’s fantastic.” She quickly grabbed more paperwork and they all started filling it out, one of them filling out each form.

It took around 20 minutes, but they were finally done. They were going to be cat dads. 

Jaz smiled, stapling together all the papers before she looked up at the guys, “Alright, you two. We just have to do their exams and such, as well as speak to your references, but you should be able to bring them home in two days!”

They both shook her hand, the giant smiles still stuck on their faces, “Thanks so much for your help, Jaz.” 

“Of course, I’m so happy you guys came in and that some of our cats are finding their forever homes with you.” She said with a smile. Both boys gave their last cuddles to the cats before it was time to go.

Jackson pressed a kiss to the top of Milo’s head, “We’ll be back for you three.”

Leaving the cafe was hard, especially when Loki tried to follow them out but they eventually made their way out to the car.

Before they got into the car, Jackson pulled Zhenya to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as he leaned into the taller man’s chest, “I love you.” He said softly, his hands making their way around Zhenya’s waist.

“I love you. Always.” Zhenya murmured, holding Jackson close.

Getting to bring their cats home was one of the best days they’ve had. The cats were a bit skittish with being in a new environment but by bedtime, they had really calmed down. All three cats joined the two men on their bed. Milo curling up on Jackson’s pillow, Pumpkin sprawled on Zhenya’s stomach with Loki stretched across the foot of the bed. 

As they all got comfortable, Jackson couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend, squeezing the hand that was intertwined with his, “I’m so happy to be a cat dad with you, babe.”

Zhenya pressed a kiss to the other man’s knuckles, “You and I, Best cat dads. Always.”

#nuny #jackson nadeau #Evgeni Kuznetsov #lumosinlove #fluff #sweater weather #zhenya #nado #kuny #cats #cat dads #fic #fic writing #no beta

[silverarmedassassin]

Clandestine Meetings - One

Actor!Bucky x Reader | Word Count: 2488 | Warnings: None

A/N: Listen, I know I said this would be posted in "about an hour," but I have no self-control and it must be posted NOW.

Sorry for the delay in getting this out! I was having a bit of block. Thank you for reading and, if you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think!❤️ If you want to be tagged, please send me a message or enter your url here!

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

[ Previous | Masterlist | Next ]

It’s 10:30 by the time your boss stumbles into the office. Pepper Potts is usually the embodiment of poised and put together - sleek strawberry blonde hair either falling over her shoulders in beautiful waves or tied in a high ponytail; black pencil skirts and white blouses tucked neatly inside. But not today.

While the ponytail still sits high on her head, dark circles taint her usually smooth, pristine complexion. She’s fisting a to-go mug in one hand and her office mug in the other, already steaming with a fresh round of caffeine.

You hated days like these; mornings after Tony keeps her out late - either business or pleasure, you never know as you prefer not to pry into your bosses’ personal lives - were always interesting, to say the least. Pepper was never mean, and you were almost positive there wasn’t an unkind bone in her body. She was just off. And if she was off, it means you were off, resulting in your job being about one hundred times harder as you often had to play the roles of both assistant and editor.

“Good morning, Ms. Potts,” you finally greet as she sits down at her desk. She’s rummaging through her bag, growing more irritable as the seconds pass. She sighs before stopping to look up at you.

“Y/N, please. It’s been six months. Just call me Pepper.” You internally scoff at the insistence of being anything less than professional towards one of the smartest women you’ve ever encountered in your life, and she turns back to her treasure hunt. “Don’t tell me I left my laptop at home,” she whines to herself as she slumps down into her large executive chair.

You clear your throat as you shuffle forward, computer in hand. “You had me take down to IT to get your files backed up, remember?” you smile as you deposit the device on the cherry-oak desk.

Pepper returns the smile and shakes her head. “Honestly, I don’t understand how I functioned before you.” She slides the laptop across the desk and opens it. While she waits for the software to boot up, she starts her typical morning rapid-fire session. “Did I miss any calls before I came in?”

“No, it’s been pretty q-word this morning.” You vowed never to say “quiet” while in the office. It somehow always jinxed your days, resulting in everyone and their mother calling within twenty minutes.

“E-mails?”

“The chef you’ve been in contact with sent over his schedule for the next few months. It’s looking like the best time to meet is early next month if you want to get the feature done in time for the winter edition.” Pepper opens her mouth to fire another question, but you’re one step ahead of her. “I’ve already blocked out a date in your calendar and sent the invite to his team.”

A soft smile graces the woman’s face as she scribbles notes in her daybook. “And what does my schedule look like for today?”

You sort through the mental files that contain minute-to-minute information regarding your boss’s workday. “You’re pretty booked. You have that photoshop with James Barnes at noon, and after-”

“Shit,” Pepper mummers, cutting you off. Panic quickly settles into her features. “Why does Tony do this? Barnes is impossible to book for anything. I can’t miss this….”

“Uh, no, you can’t,” you practically screech as you fix your boss with a wild look. “This photoshoot has been on your schedule since before I even started. And the time you have set up with him next week doesn’t allow for a full interview, photoshoot, and get material for the short online feature.” You try not to let the panic come out in your voice, but this is precisely the kind of incident you were hired to prevent.

Pepper gently closes her laptop and sets her features in a serious look. “Listen, I think you’re doing a great job here, and you’ve grown so much within the few months you’ve been on the team.” You eye her suspiciously, wondering if this was your ‘you’re fired’ speech. If so, it was definitely coming out of left field. “Why don’t you take my place at the shoot today? If Tony hadn’t promised I’d be in attendance for this investor meeting today, I’d have you go to that instead. But,” the blonde sighs deeply before continuing, “Tony has no regard for anyone’s schedule, and this is an important meeting.”

Your stomach drops from the 44th floor you’re currently on down to ground level. You’d never been on a set before, let alone one with someone as big as James. Plus, you’d only been on a handful of mid-sized interviews. How did she expect you to do this by yourself?

“Pepper, I…”

“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to try and tell me that you’re not ready and that you can’t possibly clear your schedule for the afternoon. But if I didn’t think you were capable of holding your own, you wouldn’t even be sitting here with ‘assistant editor’ in front of your name. You have the skillset; you just need to show that you can use it. I know you don’t want to be an assistant forever.”

You anxiously bite your lip, feelings of inadequacy and anxiousness filling your senses.

“I don’t even know this James guy…” you say, defeated.

“Well, the car doesn’t arrive for another,” she looks down at her phone, “forty-five minutes. You better get reading.”

“We really need to bring you into the twenty-first century,” Natasha, Bucky’s manager, says as the first notes of My Funny Valentine start dancing through today’s set.

Following the too-bright flash of the camera, Bucky blinks the starbursts out of his eyes and tries to set the redhead with as stern of a look as possible. “Don’t you dare diss Mr. Sinatra. He’s a classic. A legend!” He watches as a stylist runs up and begins fussing with his hair.

Natasha just rolls her eyes and goes back to scrolling through her phone. As much as she acts annoyed with him - and his insistence of having at least two dozen 40’s songs on every photoshoot playlist - he knew she wouldn’t trade him for the world. They had a long history pre-dating the entertainment industry, and she was damn good at her job. If it wasn’t for Nat, Bucky’s not sure his current agency would have even signed him.

As the stylist finishes up her poking and prodding, the photographer - who Bucky has already forgotten the name of - begins shouting out directions from behind the camera. Pose this way. Turn that way. Make it look like you want to be here. It takes everything in Bucky not to grimace - both at the consistent reconfiguring he has to do to his body and the loud rumble that echoes through his stomach. The shirtless pictures they were shooting today caused him - against his better judgment - to forgo breakfast and, with nothing but too-weak black coffee in his system, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a little agitated.

“Just a few more shots, and then we can break for lunch,” he hears the man behind the camera shout before dragging the camera back up to his face.

Bucky contorts himself into a position that shows off the abs he’s worked incredibly hard to achieve and maintain and masks his face in the perfect moody smolder these magazines love so much. Three more pops of the shutter, some grumbling and direction by the photographer, and one more position change, and he’s finally free.

As he’s looking at the pictures and throwing a robe over his bare torso and boxer-clad bottom, Bucky’s attention is pulled from the camera’s tiny screen to the back of the spacious room by Natasha’s stern, Russian-lilted voice. The accent only came out when she was agitated, so the sound alone is often used as a warning sign to those closest to her to stay away.

“How did you even get up here? Is there no security in place? I swear-”

Bucky turns to find his manager - all five-foot-three inches of her - standing defensively in front of whomever she’s cornered by the elevator.

“As I said, I’m here in place of Ms. Potts.” Bucky perks up at the second voice; is almost positive he recognizes the sweet melody despite having only encountered it once several months before. “Here, look, I have my badge.”

Sure enough, as Bucky scurries over to the duo, he sees a familiar face anxiously looking at his manager. He might be terrible with names, but Bucky Barnes rarely forgets a face.

“Natasha, why do you insist on harassing every person who sets foot within a five-foot radius of me while on the job?” Bucky jokes as he approaches the women.

He watches as your attention shifts from the annoyed redhead to him; a look of shock and maybe a hint of mortification flashes across your face.

“I wasn’t harassing. This is a closed set, and randos from the street can’t just walk on up,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “And it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s...you. But you know what I mean!”

He does. After all, protecting his privacy and work is one of Bucky’s most significant concerns. That doesn't mean he isn’t going to tease Natasha any chance he gets. He playfully scoffs and turns his attention to you. “I see you got the job. I told you everything was going to work out.”

Bucky can’t help but preen at the way you anxiously tuck a non-existent stray hair behind your ear and bite your lip. “You were right. Mr. Stark isn’t as intimidating as I thought. Although,” you playfully roll your eyes, “he is a menace. He promised Pepper’s attendance at a meeting, so now you’re stuck with an inexperienced interviewer rather than the queen of journalism.”

“Bah!” Bucky exclaims. “I’m sure you’ll do great. Plus, you’re not the one half-naked in the situation. If anyone embarrasses themselves, it’ll be me.”

Natasha chortles at the comment, mumbling something the sounds a lot like, “ever the charmer,” before walking away. At the same time, Bucky doesn’t miss the way your gaze slowly skims down his cotton-clade body before snapping back up to his face.

“Come on. We just broke for lunch, and Stark spares no expense when it comes to the spreads.”

It’s well past six-thirty in the evening when you finally make it back to your building. Despite the exhaustion flowing through your veins and the grumble in your stomach reminding you every five minutes that you haven’t eaten since lunchtime, there’s a festive air to your being, a proverbial pep to your step that could only be the result of a successful first interview experience.

Yeah, you were a nervous wreck before and during the interview, but you walked away feeling amazing about yourself - and with three pages worth of phenomenal, touching, and personal quotes from the one and only Bucky Barnes.

You try to ignore the butterflies that erupt low in your belly at the thought of the blue-eyed god of a man. Despite having no other experience interviewing someone with as large of a celebrity as he, you’ve concluded that Bucky is an angel of an interviewee. He was polite, answered all of your questions, and flirted just a little. Or, at least that’s what you would call it if you were anyone but a lowly editorial assistant who still purchased from bargain bins because that’s all you could afford. In all reality, Bucky was a very smooth talker with the confidence to back it up. It explained the incomprehensible hype surrounding the man you had no idea was such a big deal less than twelve hours prior.

The rumble of your stomach pulls you back to reality as you unlock your apartment door. You push the thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind, settle for finishing unpacking the day for when you’re unwinding for bed. Right now, all you want to focus on is fo-

“Uh, hello!” your roommate Wanda screeches as you push open the door. The redhead is standing, arms crossed, in your entry, a look of disdain on her face. “When were you going to tell me, your best friend and roommate, who pays half the rent and utilities, mind you, that Bucky Barnes followed you on Instagram. James Bucky Barnes, Y/N!”

You freeze at the mention of the man who has taken up every inch of your mind since you left the shoot earlier that day. You deposit your keys onto the small table next to the door and try to act as nonchalant as possible. “What are you talking about, Wanda?”

Your roommate starts wagging her phone in front of your face before pulling it back so she can read off her screen. “Well, I follow these gossip blogs - just for fun, of course. I like to stay up-to-date with all the celebrity goings-on.” You fix Wanda with an unamused look as you pass by on the way to the kitchen. “And I was scrolling through, catching up on today’s gossip, and all of a sudden, I see a screenshot of your Instagram account!”

You freeze mid-reach for a saucepan and turn to look at her. “What?”

“Yea, see,” Wanda holds her phone out so you can see the screen. Low and behold, there your account is; questionably composed landscape shots of the city and poorly-lit food pics in all their glory. “It started to circulate this afternoon after someone saw he followed you! Why did he follow you?”

You slowly resume your task of reheating last night’s spaghetti as you answer her. “I...I don’t know? I met him at work this afternoon. He probably just followed me because of Stark.” You shrug despite the thrill that runs through your body.

You halfheartedly listen as Wanda blabs on about the crush she’s apparently had for years despite never having once mentioned it to you, too focused on running through the day’s events to care much about how she’s seen every single one of his films at least a dozen times.

Maybe he had been flirting with you? His manager did mention he flirts with anything with a heartbeat, so it was most likely just part of his personality. Or at least the role he played in public. You weren’t naive enough to think that who Bucky presented himself as to the media, fans, and others not in his inner circle was the real Bucky. After all, he was likely just trying to win you over so you’d write something good about him.

Still, you can’t help the giddy smile that creeps across your face as, when you finally lie down for the night, you open the Instagram app to find Bucky’s name and verified status among the several notifications awaiting you.

@redbarn1995 @juenenfeu

#bucky x reader #actor!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #actor au #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic

[wajjs]

prompt part: the taliajaybru continuation of your bb dami fic? where everyone is still soft and nothing hurts (too much) and bruce catches up on how to be with the people he loves?

omegaverse, omega!jay (ft. male breastfeeding - a very short scene at the very beginning)

continuation of this fic

-

In my darkness I search for you

Breeze comes in through the window that had been closed.

Breeze comes in, makes the curtains flutter, and Jason doesn't look up from where Dami's head is nestled in his arms, face pressed to his chest. He doesn't look up as he strokes the thin hairs on the back of the head, as he smiles down at the expression of pure concentration Damian has while staying latched onto his nipple.

Jason doesn't look up and he doesn't need to, because he knows who is standing in front of him, tense and agitated and—he wonders what kind of thoughts are plaguing that head. What kind of picture does he paint, and how is it being interpreted?

Damian's tiny hands flex on Jason's chest and it makes him laugh.

He also thinks he can hear a single broken sob coming from the pillar of kevlar, weapons and living, breathing anguish.

-

When he goes back to the manor, he's carrying a small travel bag with diapers, a few onesies, towels, and Damian's favorite toys. It's clear he's not here for a prolonged stay. He also doesn't come back to the family house through the cave in the middle of the night, like a ghost from days past that descends upon everyone present like a curse. Instead, he walks up the steps to the front door and bounces his baby in his arms. And he waits.

Not for long, though. Because there it is Alfred, looking like he always does and if Jason notices new wrinkles, he doesn't say a thing. He smiles, a small, shy thing, and shifts Damian to just one arm, propping him up on his side.

"Hey there, Alfie," Jason says. If there's a pang of nostalgia clanging in between his ribs, he stays quiet about it.

Alfred's eyes are wide open. This is the most caught he's ever looked.

"Master Jason," he gasps, hand shaking around the doorknob. The lack of steadiness becomes even more obvious when the older man's eyes drift until they are focused on the baby.

Jason understands the surprise. But also, it's getting cold and Damian is still getting better from that trip to—

"I apologize," Alfred quickly recomposes himself, stands to the side as he opens the door as far as it goes, "please, master Jason, please come in."

He smiles and steps inside. Familiarity rushes through him. The house seems stuck in time, as always, and he… he's changed so much.

-

Bruce can't stop looking at him. The man is pale and silent and he looks at Jason and his baby like they are both going to vanish the minute he blinks. Jason doesn't reassure him that this isn't a half-crazed delusion, this isn't a vision, he's here, he's real. No, he makes no attempt at comforting him. Jason knows more than well it would fall upon stubborn ears.

Alfred is the one sitting by his side and smiling as he watches with an avid eye while Damian plays in his baby chair. Well, not his, but the one that's never left the manor, much like everything else that ever entered here. Still sturdy as ever, and Jason sits next to his child and he kisses the soft hairs.

Sometimes he can't believe this is his reality.

"How," Bruce finally asks.

Even with the fireplace lit up, the room drops to sub-zero temperatures.

"I think you're well acquainted with how babies are made, B."

That's not it, though. The three adults present know.

"How did you come back?"

At least they are talking, Jason thinks, and Bruce has yet to force him into completing one medical scan after the other. It's only a matter of time for that, though. Everyone is well aware.

-

At the end of the day, well into the night, he's sitting by the small table in the kitchen, Damian dozing off in his arms, waiting for the kettle to start whistling. It's late, now. Late enough for Batman to be expected to be seen prowling the city, and yet the man under the cape is here, by Jason's side. Closer, so much closer than before.

"He looks like Talia," Bruce says and the air he exhales as he speaks brushes Jason's cheek.

"I know," with a rogue smile, he turns towards the other, shifts his hold so his intentions are clear. "Do you want to hold him?"

In typical Bruce fashion, the answer he gets is: "Stay."

And there are so many things left to be said. So many silenced truths waiting round the corner for their best moment to strike. Speeches Jason has rehearsed, over and over, in front of a mirror—fueled by fear and pain and anger and… and grief. Things he's thought about in the middle of training around the world with Talia's guidance.

Things that moved to the very back of his priorities when he discovered that he was—

And so he resigns himself to be, for once, the bigger person.

"I'll stay for the night."

-

Talia's a beauty that escapes definition, elegantly sprawled on the couch, and Jason feels warmth when he sees her the moment he crosses the door. It's as much his instincts telling him that's my alpha as it is him loving her beyond all that. There's a soft noise forming deep within his chest that has Damian reacting as well, and she laughs with such a wonderful melody.

"We missed you," he says as Damian tries to reach out, both arms extended towards her.

"I'm happy to see you doing much better," Talia stands and picks the baby in her arms. He belongs there as much as he belongs in Jason's hold. "I apologize I couldn't help when you needed me."

"Nonsense," Jason huffs a little, his cheeks getting warm, "you help us all the time. We wouldn't—"

She shushes him with a soft kiss on his lips. It makes Jason's blush grow darker, stirs up half asleep needs and wants and…

He exhales shakily, slumping against the nearest wall and letting the bag fall to the floor. Talia's eyes shine with a new light, one he's seen quite a few times before. They both know what this means.

"I shouldn't," he swallows, runs his hand over his forehead to push his hair out of his face, "I shouldn't go through one so soon, right?"

"You've been with him," her words are not reprimanding. They never are, when she gets it so well, "you've been around him more and more, lately. There are even rumors going around in high society circles. Gossip."

"But," looking at her face, taking in her expression, he shakes again, bites his fist because he needs a distraction. It's not happening just yet, but it's coming. The one thing he did not miss at all. "That… that couldn't be it…"

Talia smiles. She steps closer to him so she can kiss him again. "You've always loved him, dearest."

Jason's knees get a little weaker. He tries not to cry.

"I love you," he says. Desperation adds weight to his voice.

"I know you do," cradling Damian in her arms, she brushes his cheek with her lips, feels his exhale close to her ear, "and I love you, too, dearest."

What Talia doesn't have to say out loud, because he gets it, is: worry not. I'll find a solution.

-

The ridiculous thought of he's too big for this room keeps repeating itself, like a blinking neon billboard, inside Jason's head. Over and over, till words lose meaning and—

His breath hitches high in his throat and Bruce, god, Bruce Bruce Bruce, he gives him a twitch of his lips that passes for reassurance, an almost smile that Jason used to live for. He's different now, he's grown, he's, he… Talia is right, and Jason looks for her, sees her sitting by the edge of the bed, right next to him. He feels exposed, vulnerable in ways he hates, but he's safe. He's the safest he can be, here, with them paying attention to him.

"Jason," Bruce's voice is soft yet commanding and their eyes meet again. "I can leave if you—"

"No," he says too quickly, reaching out, sitting up on the bed so he can hold onto the other's clothes, "no, don't."

"Beloved," Talia scolds Bruce from behind Jason's shoulders. She's the one pushing him back down onto the mattress, the one massaging away the lines of tension taking over. "Don't tease him like this. Surely you know he's been waiting for you all this time."

Forced into view, being made to be seen, Jason gulps, closes his eyes so he doesn't get to see whatever expression is forming on Bruce's face. He's. He's embarrassed but there is warmth simmering low and insistent in his gut, warmth that gets stronger the more he's made to wait. All the scents, the smell of alpha, they are all making him dizzy, making him want. And he's achingly empty. Why aren't they…?

"I'm sorry, Jason," Bruce whispers and Jason gasps, there's the dip in the mattress, the line of heat of a body broad and big like his own laying on top of him.

Then, then there are the touches. The softest drag of fingertips over his cheek, the line of his jaw, the dip of his collarbones.

"I didn't mean to make you wait so long."

When he blinks and looks at them, at Talia, at Bruce, he's both lost and found. He needs. Legs falling open in the most natural of invitations, he bares his neck, presents himself, shivers and swallows back breathless gasps that betray just how much he craves. Like this, in the cradle of their embrace, like this Jason doesn't have to think of his fears, his anger, the wounds that never heal.

With Bruce on top of him, shedding their clothes, with Talia's fingers in his hair, with all this thorough attention, Jason doesn't have to think about all that he's lost or given up.

Like this, for this moment, he can pretend.

-

In the peak of winter, bundled up in worn out sweaters, cheeks red and an easy smile on his face, Jason sits on a cushion on the floor, watching as Damian plays next to him. He's giggling, babbling, round and soft and so happy, it's like there are actual stars in his eyes. The two of them paint the most incredible and magical of pictures. An allegory of second chances and new beginnings, of love, of dedication. Of loyalty.

Talia stands by the door, she's always looking, always from a certain distance, like someone who's always protecting. And there is much to protect, here. Much to keep safe.

Bruce stops by her side and his eyes follow the line of her sight. The smile that he gives, it's the most natural smile he's shown in years.

"You saved him," Bruce speaks barely above a whisper.

"Beloved," Talia sighs, leans into his side like all three of them are indeed normal people, like this arrangement won't bring problems, like they get to have a chance at a normal life, "I didn't do anything. He actually saved all three of us."

#jaytalia #brujay #taliajaybru #talia al ghul #jason todd #bruce wayne #omega jason todd #blob writes #blob's prompt party #the very last one! #setsailslash

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

Thank you all so much for your support with this story.

Sorry for the delay with this next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

AO3

Previous

Chapter 10: From Posing to Plus One

I adjust the numerous cushions behind me on the purple velvet chaise longue and take another sip from my glass of champagne. This luxurious moment is marred somewhat by the underwire in my strapless bra digging painfully into soft tissue. With my free hand, I surreptitiously try and manoeuvre it into a more comfortable position.

“Claire, after this we have tae get ye a new bra, fer the dress.” Geillis has noticed. She notices everything.

She is sitting on the edge of a lavender boudoir chair, so full of excitement, I can practically see the air humming around her. She can’t seem to keep still, her legs constantly jiggling while the fingers of one hand beat a tattoo on the arm of the chair. Despite all the movements, the champagne in her glass remains unspilt, unsurprisingly.

Eventually, the sales assistant enters holding aloft a large white garment bag. “Here ye go, ma pet. If ye jes’ want tae pop behind the screen over there, we’ll get ye sorted.”

Geillis disappears behind the screen, while I continue to savour the champagne and take a good look at my surroundings. This room is like being in a big fluffy cloud. The walls are white with huge white wooden open wardrobes, filled with masses of lace, frills and satin. One wall has a full length mirror set in an ornate gilt frame. The floorboards are painted white as are the shutters at the windows. The only splashes of colour are from the chaise longue and two boudoir chairs, which do look somewhat incongruous against the overwhelming whiteness, like burlesque performers stuck in a room full of angels.

But perhaps they couldn’t risk white seating. All the shuffling bottoms, fake tan and spilt wine would play havoc with pristine upholstery—less virginal and more slightly seedy and used. The velvet decadence is probably preferable.

“How’s it going, Geillis?” I call across the room.

“Fine,” a muffled voice responds.

I am certainly enjoying this experience—wedding dress shopping with Geillis. It’s not something I ever imagined doing for myself, so to share it with my best friend is great. Even when I was a little girl, I never seemed to dream about weddings. I never played weddings with my dolls— I was far too busy bandaging them up, healing their imaginary diseases and, on one memorable occasion, amputating the left leg of my Tiny Tears. (In my eight year old self’s defence, it was a necessary intervention to save her from imminent death—her leg had already turned black with marker pen and all it took was a sharp pair of kitchen scissors and some red wool to stitch up with.)

And so I am thoroughly enjoying this new experience of visiting bridal shops and choosing dresses. All the pleasure and none of the wedding planning. Geillis has already dropped a dress size due to pre-wedding stress and I hope she doesn’t drop anymore—this is our final fitting.

I take the last sip from my glass. While Geillis is still being manhandled into her dress, I quietly lean over, take her half full glass from the (white) side table, pour some into my glass and relax back against the cushions.

And just in time as Geillis emerges from behind the screen.

The expression ‘take my breath away’ is often used, but in this case it is genuine. I’ve seen the dress before. I was with her when she chose it, but to see her in it now, well, I’m speechless. I want to rush over and hug her, but of course, I can’t for fear of spoiling the pristine fabric.

It’s a simple dress. Cream chiffon pleated Grecian style with a fitted strapless bodice and a long floaty skirt full of tiny intricate pleats that make the fabric lift and swirl around her as she moves. A plain cream veil cascades from the back of her head adding to the ethereal image. She looks like a goddess.

A goddess until she opens her mouth. “What d’ye think, then? This dress is bloody gorgeous, is it no’?”

She stands in front of the mirror, and twirls around, trying to glimpse it from every angle.

I feel my eyes prick with tears. “Oh, Geillis, you look absolutely beautiful. It’s just… just… lovely. You’re lovely and it fits like a dream. Dougal is a lucky man.”

“He is. And I make sure he knows it.”

The sales assistant is hovering around, straightening imaginary creases, checking the dress. Finally, Geillis stops moving and allows her to cast a professional eye over the fit. Once satisfied, she directs Geillis behind the screen once more, for the reverse transformation.

Geillis pulls a face as, clad again in jeans and t-shirt, she sits down and picks up her glass. She views it with suspicion, before shooting me a glance and taking a gulp. I try to look innocent.

“All ma clothes are sae boring now,” she pouts. “ I want tae wear that dress every day and never take it off.”

“Not very convenient in theatre, though, love,” I console her. “And think how special it’s going to be when you put it on for your wedding.”

“Aye, I suppose ye're right. And now it’s yer turn. C’mon now.”

The sales assistant returns with another garment bag and I follow her behind the screen.

There’s something quite uncomfortable about being dressed by someone else, I decide as I stand in my bra and knickers, arms stretched above my head waiting for the dress to slither down my body. I mean, obviously my parents would have dressed me when I was little, not that I can remember that, but by the time I went to live with Lamb, I was fully able to dress myself. He would have to do the occasional rebuttoning of cardigans, or zipping up of anoraks, but that was all.

The dress slips over my head and down my body. Now is the moment of truth as the sales assistant lifts my arm and pulls up the side zip. I breathe a sigh of relief (yes, I can actually breathe); the dress fits like a glove, or rather like a dress that’s been tailored to my exact measurements.

I step out from the screen to a round of applause from Geillis. “Claire, ye’re gorgeous. Ye look stunning in that dress.”

I sashay towards the mirror, enjoying the feeling of the fabric as it dances around my calves. In style, it’s not dissimilar to Geillis’, the same intricate chiffon pleats on the bodice and skirt. But my bridesmaid dress has one shoulder and is, as I was informed, ‘seafoam’ in colour.

That name is so descriptive; neither blue nor green yet both at the same time, and, as my skirt swirls around my legs, it’s easy to picture the ocean waves lapping against my ankles.

“D’ye like it?” Geillis sounds genuinely concerned.

“I love it.” And I do, I really do.

There’s just one thing, I realise as I continue to twist around. Geillis was right. I do need a new bra.

***********

With the two garment bags safely stowed in the wardrobe of Geillis’ spare bedroom, we celebrate with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

I curl my legs up on the sofa and watch as Geillis switches on her laptop, ready to update all her wedding preparation spreadsheets with today’s activities. She sticks her tongue out in concentration as she scrolls through all her information, finally finding the appropriate worksheets. A few taps of the keyboard and it’s done. She doesn’t switch off but continues to look at the screen.

Eventually she speaks. “Claire, I need tae know. This weekend we’ve tae give the numbers tae the hotel and I want tae do the seating plan. Are ye bringing a plus one? I mean, it’s ok if ye’re no’.”

I feel really bad about not letting Geillis know sooner. I mean, after the rugby club, it appears  that Jamie and I have somehow become each other’s ‘plus one’, but I haven’t yet decided whether to ask him to the wedding. That somehow seems more intimate—and the thought of him being interrogated by my friends fills me with dread.

“I haven’t asked anyone yet. When do you need to know?”

“By ‘anyone’ I take it ye mean Jamie? Who else would be yer plus one? Frank?” She pulls a face at that idea. “And I need tae know by tomorrow night. It doesna matter if ye dinna bring anyone…Angus isna bringing anyone either. He’d be thrilled tae accompany ye.”

I grimace instinctively. I met Angus, Dougal’s brother, at Geillis’ last New Year's Eve party and he was more than a little, shall we say, full on. I could cope with his hands, although it was rather like trying to wrangle an octopus. Midnight was a different matter as he tried to turn a polite peck into a full snog, tongue and all.

“Ok, I’ll ask Jamie tomorrow. We're going running.”

Geillis bursts out laughing, which rapidly turns into a coughing fit. “Running? Ye?” she croaks between coughs. “Oh ma love, I’d pay good money tae see that.”

******************

I don’t consider myself unfit. I try to do yoga every week and all those hours in theatre keep me pretty active. But running isn’t something I ever imagine myself doing, let alone actually enjoy.

Jamie first suggested it to me a couple of weeks ago. As usual, I didn’t have to say a word, my face told him what I thought of the idea. He then proceeded to agree with me, declaring that he didn’t think I had the stamina for that kind of exercise. I knew exactly what he was doing—a blatant attempt at reverse psychology. Did he really think I would fall for that?

Anyway, I’ve arranged to meet him in the park at our bench. I eye the coffee kiosk wistfully. It’s too early in the morning for it to be open, or indeed for anybody to be around, save a few fellow runners and some dog walkers. Perhaps, it will be open by the time we’ve finished.

I hold onto the bench and practice a few lunges, trying to look as though I know what I’m doing.

“Ye’re wobbling a bit,” a familiar voice calls from behind.

Immediately I stand up and turn to face him.

“Morning, how are ye? Looking forward tae this?” He sounds far too cheerful for this early on a Sunday.

“Of course.” I don’t tell him that usually all I want on a Sunday morning is coffee and a cinnamon bun.

He checks his watch. “Well, mebbe yer man’ll be open fer coffee when we get back.”

I don’t believe it. Are all my friends mind readers?

I shrug, trying to look like it never crossed my mind.

“Sae,” he continues. “We’ll start off wi’ 5 minutes brisk walking tae warm up, then mebbe 15 minutes alternating between slow running and walking and finish off wi’ 5 minutes walking tae cool down. I dinna want ye tae do too much as it’s yer first time and I think that’ll be more than enough fer ye.”

Here we go—Jamie and his reverse psychology again. How obvious.

“Oh well,” I reply. “I think we can do more than that. I’ll be fine.”

He smirks as he sets the timer on his watch. “OK, Sassenach, whatever ye say.”

*************

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so welcome a sight as the open shutters on the coffee kiosk. It may be my imagination but, even from this distance, I can smell the freshly brewed coffee. And, boy, do I need it.

I let my pride override my commonsense and actually ran-slash-walked for ten minutes more than Jamie had planned, finishing with a totally unnecessary sprint, or rather my pathetic attempt at one, before the cool down. And now I’m paying the price. My face is burning hot, my t-shirt is one huge sweat patch and my legs feel like they’re made from rubber.

Jamie, on the other hand, is strolling towards the kiosk looking as though he’s barely broken into a sweat. I think it literally was ‘a walk in the park’ for him today.

I sit down on the bench, shifting awkwardly as the sweat trickles down my back and between my cheeks. What I really need is a long, hot shower…

Jamie comes and joins me on the bench, his hands full with coffee and a couple of mysterious bags. He deposits his purchases between us and settles himself. I hope he’s not downwind of me. I don’t think I’m smelling my sweetest at the moment.

He passes me a coffee and a bag.

“Here ye go, I reckon ye’ve earned it. I didna ken what ye wanted. That’s an almond croissant, but I’ve a pain au raisin here if ye’d prefer.”

I accept the almond croissant and coffee gratefully.

“How d’ye feel now?” He asks as he takes a large bite of his pastry.

“I feel fine.” I lie.

“Hmm. Actually, ye did well today. Better than I thought. Ye’ll be running a five k before we know it.”

I stare at him, not sure if he’s being sarcastic, but, no, there’s a genuine smile on his face as he takes another bite of his pastry.

“Not sure about that.” I’m thinking that once is enough.

“Nonsense, ye should do this regularly. I’ll help ye, if ye like.”

“But won’t I hold you back with my slow pace?”

“Doesna matter. I run a couple of times a week anyway. I can do this as well.”

“I’ll think about it.” I break a piece of my croissant off and pop it in my mouth. It is delicious and totally guilt free. I’ve earned it.

We are quiet for a moment, both of us savouring the coffee and treats. I am also pondering how best to ask Jamie about Geillis’ wedding. I know I have to ask him today, but I don’t want him to feel obliged to attend, I need to offer him a way to decline without feeling guilty.

“So,” I begin, a bit hesitant. “I was wondering…of course, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to… but you know I’m a bridesmaid at Geillis’ wedding and I was wondering, well, if you wanted to accompany me…be my plus one.”

“I won’t mind if you don’t want to come. That’s fine too.” I add quickly.

“Ye sound like ye dinna want me tae come.” He watches my face, maybe looking for clues as to what I actually want.

“I do…but only if you want to. You don’t have to.” I’m still giving him a guilt free way out.

“But, ye want me tae come, do ye?” He looks a little bit perplexed, unsure what to do.

“Yes, obviously—“

“Well, Sassenach, in that case I accept. It will be ma pleasure.”

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Just A Friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 10

[spooklore]

Souls and Spirits - Reader x Spencer Reid

A/N: Welcome to my first publicly posted fanfiction in almost 6 years! I wrote this  @imagining-in-the-margins​ ‘s Discord fic swap and it was so much fun to write. Thank you to everyone who helped :) 

SUMMARY: The (season 7) BAU Team is out at a bar after a case rough case and the female bartender catches Spencer's eye and a little more.

CATEGORY: Fluff and soft smut

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

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

Spencer POV:

It was a long day, long case, long flight, and now I’m sitting through a long dinner.

I was reciting the words of one of our witnesses over, and over in my mind while the team chatted away. My thoughts were screaming the words of a young woman from our case who had just found out that her boyfriend had killed half a dozen women. While I stood on the other side of the interrogation room’s double sided glass the woman mumbled, “What do you say to someone you thought was your soulmate?” and for some reason it stuck with me more than the previous cases.

I partially snapped back to the table conversation so I could hear Garcia giggle and the rare, but welcome, Hotch laugh overlapping. I looked up to Morgan starting right at me, furrowing his eyebrows. I knew this damned look. He was about to call me out in front of the team. Usually I was good at picking up on the conversation and spitting out my own side of the conversation but I wasn’t quick enough.

“C’mon pretty boy, really? What planet are you on that you’re not even talking about Halloween. I’m the one who should be zoning out over here.” He jokingly scoffed at me, then took a drink from the scotch glass he was holding.

“Sorry, I got caught up in the case.” I laughed and shrugged it off. [elaborate]

Prentiss bumped her elbow into my shoulder since she was the one sitting closest to me. “Let me catch you up. The team. JJ and Hotch are bringing their boys, Sergio isn't invited-”

“Even though I bought him the sweetest pumpkin hat for his tiny little head!” Penelope exclaimed before Emily could finish her sentence. Everyone, including me, just stared at her until we all broke out in a contagious laughter.

“I think he would look quite snazzy, Emily.” I chimed in, flashing Emily a soft smirk. Emily sighed, “I promise I will send a picture to everyone then. I would say the party could be at my place but I’m sure the candy is much better in Rossi’s neighborhood!”

“I’m only giving out candy after everyone has had at least two drinks. It makes everything a little more interesting on the adult side while we admire the fine costumes that come across my porch.” Rossi inserted the plans.

I ran my fingers along the hem of the napkin sitting on my lap. “That sounds like a wonderful time…” I looked up and met eyes with JJ. “As long as Henry’s costume isn't too spooky.”

JJ’s face lit up and she reached her hand out to meet my left hand, which was resting next to my drink, and gave it a squeeze. “Prepare yourself, Spence. It’s going to be the scariest costume yet!”

I gave her a big smile in return before grabbing my drink and giving it a sip. Morgan started talking about some hockey team with Hotch and Garcia while I asked JJ about Will's new job.

We got all of our checks and started quieting down before Rossi announced to us, “I hope you all are able to take care of your checks. But maybe I can take care of your drinks as we migrate to the nearest bar?”

The team let out personal cheers and thank you’s. Once the waitress had brought back our cards and change we all stood and started making our way out of the restaurant.

“Maybe while Aaron and I make our way back home we will find a nice hole in the wall with quiet music and serves a good malt, oh wait. They’ve been run out by those techno and indie bars you all like.” Rossi rolled his eyes before exchanging kisses on the cheeks. Hotch and I exchanged a smile and the two men made their way back to their cars.

Garcia linked arms with Morgan and JJ and put her arm around Emily, leaving me to trail behind the group. They continued their chatter as I followed them down the street. The ladies continued dancing to whichever bar caught their eyes while Derek shot glances back at me to make sure I wasn’t too far behind.

Soon enough Penelope hollered at the group to corral us through the doors of a bustling, neon-lit club. Derek followed me in and placed his hand on my back before whispering in my ear, “You better find someone or else I will.” As if it were a threat.

I sat on a stool and ordered a club soda and lime from the bartender, everyone else chiming in with their orders after mine.

Garcia was settling in next to me while Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan stood with their drinks next to her. I slid in a few comments here and there to let the team know that I wasn’t still entirely thinking about what the victim had said to me earlier that day.

Before I could finish my thought; Garcia grabbed my wrist and used my hand to point in the direction of what could only be described, in her words, as ‘chocolate thunder striking down the dance floor’.

We shared a laugh at the sight of Morgan grinding against three women who were enjoying every moment. JJ and Emily audibly cringed.

“Spence, why don’t you follow him out there?” JJ joked as she nudged my shoulder. Emily giggled as she pushed on the other side of me as she loudly whispered in my ear, “Oh, come on! I need to live vicariously through the youthfulness of being single.”

“You’re not in a relationship, Emily.” I tried to banter but I had to speak over her defensive response, “Actually, Sergio is a cat. Nice try. Why don’t you give the floor a spin.”

“I think the floor is spinning already…” Penelope stuttered while gripping onto her barstool. Emily grabbed Garcia’s shoulders and shouted “Or you’ve been taking the shots that were meant for everybody!” Emily helped Penelope off the chair and started to guide her towards the bathroom.

JJ patted my back as she claimed Garcia’s seat and watched the two ladies stumble away. I sipped my drink, wishing for the bitterness of alcohol but in return feeling the tarte lime hit the back of my throat. I felt so alone in this club that trickled with my friends and coworkers.

There was a female bartender who was working at the other end of the bar who caught my eye. She was shaking a cocktail over her shoulder while laughing. I looked back down at my drink.

The silence I shared with JJ didn’t last long. Morgan was swaying back towards us, shaking the ladies off and leaving them in his wake. “Pretty boy or JJ. One of you better take my hand or I pick who’s dancing with me.” My eyes darted directly over to JJ, whose eyes never locked contact with the man who offered.

“I believe this little lady is long overdue from a night out,” Morgan whisked JJ off her barstool and she giggled and waved to me. I waved back to hear Morgan tell JJ, “Will doesn’t take you out enough does he?”

I stirred my drink as indeed, now I was truly alone. Emily was probably holding back Penelope’s hair and jewelry while JJ and Derek were losing themselves in the sea of bodies. It didn’t distract me from feeling the exhaustion wave over me. I stabbed at the ice and lime at the bottom of my glass with a small black straw.

I zoned in on the noise of the ice clinking against the glass over the irritating, base-heavy club music. The stirring grounded me from the stimulation all around me.

That's when I notice a hand with manicured nails tapping the bar top in front of me.

“Hey, you probably didn't hear me! Want another drink?” I looked up to see the female bartender from before standing right in front of me. She smiled big and shyly I returned it. “I-I’m sorry, yeah. Uh. Yes please. Virgin lime and tonic.” I managed to stutter.

“Are you pregnant? If so congrats! You’re glowing. Coming right up, dear.” The young woman danced around the other bartender to get rid of my old glass and grab a clean one.

I was confused why she thought I was a woman conceiving even though I was a man. I understand that ordering non-alcoholic drinks while at a club with friends seems off putting. Instead of worrying about the topic any longer I shook my head and looked back up at her.

She wiped the glass with the apron around her waist, before chatting up her coworker while building my drink. She had an infectious smile, I had to keep myself from being caught staring.

The bartender leaned over and placed my drink in front of me. “Here’s your drink! My name is Y/N so if you need anything-” Someone put their hand on my back which caused me to jump and spill my drink in front of me and onto the bartender.

JJ laughed and grabbed her drink from earlier and giggled while saying “Nice one, Spence.”

Reader POV:

The club soda and lime wedge had spilled onto my shirt, ice falling into my apron pockets.

“I’m so sorry!” The curly-haired man explained and grabbed the stack of napkins next to me to mop up the eight ounces of liquid.

“It’s okay, I’m always prepared for instances like these.” I joked while taking off my apron and dumping the ice out of the pockets. My mind flooded with emotions. I was frustrated. Why did I have to lean against the bar to get closer to this man I didn’t know. I was annoyed. Now my clothes are wet and I have to go change.

What clouded my mind the most was the image of the blonde woman who touched him so affectionately.

By the time I had set my apron on the table behind the bar I had looked back up at the man who locked eye contact with me. He had soft, hazel eyes that looked at me apologetically.

“I’m going to try to find Morgan again.” The blonde woman patted his shoulder and walked off to the floor.

I looked back down at the wad of sopping wet napkins and started throwing them away.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. Is there any way I can help you?” He searched my eyes for an answer but something let me know he already knew what I wanted.

“I’m not… sure.” I touched my wet work jeans trying to figure out my plan. I had soaking wet pants, without my apron it looks like I had embarrassingly wet myself.

I caught the man in the corner of my eye glancing, scanning me up and down.

“Well, I could help you get out of those pants?” He stuttered while suggesting, a sly smirk growing on his face.

I tried to hide my blushed cheeks from him but I was intrigued. Anyways it was nearly the end of my shift and I couldn’t care less about this job. Part of me chimed in, the good and moral part of me. Why would you risk this fun and great paying job for a man you just met.

But I’ve never felt a stronger feeling of complete sureness about a person like this before.

I am sure he is my person.

I wiped up my hands and placed them on the bar table in front of me.

“Would you really? That would be great actually.” I looked up and smiled at him. All I saw was this shaggy-haired man with a goofy smile on his face staring straight back at me.

He started to stammer before saying, “Wait… really? I mean I would it’s just… aren't you working?”

I laughed and looked over my shoulder at my coworker and shouted at him. “Hey Mike! Is Peter here yet?” I saw him give me a strong nod. “Guess my cover-” By the time I looked back over at the man who was sitting across from me, the words fell out of my mouth.

He wasn’t there. In his place was left a napkin with writing on it. I grabbed the napkin that was slightly damp and scrawled in pen it read,

Check your apron pocket.

I fumbled for my apron that was hanging to dry over the bar rail. I dug my hands into what I thought were empty pockets and found a business card. It read:

SSA Dr. Spencer Reid - FBI BAU Profiler.

Oh my god, he’s a Fed. I’m guessing a really smart one too. Plus some sort of magician.

I flipped the business card over and there was more writing on it in the same pen.

Meet me out front when you’re done.

My mind was scrambling for how much I wanted to see him. Part of me tried to reason, why would I drop everything for someone's name I had to learn through their business card? The arguably better side of me screamed for him.

I ran to clock out and grab my bag. Mike stopped me as I saw Peter taking over my section of the bar in the corner of my eye.

“Hey, everything alright? If you’re in a hurry you can just grab your tips tomorrow. Text me if you need anything. Have fun out there, kid.” He patted my back and nudged me. “Go get him.”

“Thank you Mike! See ya!” I smiled and waved goodbye to them and started to push through the people. Usually I’d slip through the back door but pushing through people seemed safer than walking through a dark alley alone.

But with an FBI agent, I think I might be safe. I had a really great feeling about it anyways.

I pushed the door and felt the brisk fall wind hit my face as I walked outside. I didn’t care for how cold I was, I was looking for him.

I scanned the streets and saw him standing underneath a street lamp and he looked back at me with the biggest smile. I have to admit that it was quite contagious.

I walked up to him and shined under the street lamp with him. Before I could even say hello he started apologizing.

“I’m really sorry again. I see that you got my note, which is good. I was worried about the pen bleeding from the melting ice.” He chuckled.

“It’s okay! Please, it happens more often than I’d like to admit. I can say I’ve never had such a polite and attractive person spill a drink on me.” I looked down at my shoes in slight embarrassment for being so bold, but hey. When am I not.

“If it took me spilling a drink on you to meet then I’m sure it was worth it.” He caught my attention again, making me laugh.

“I would let you do it again, I mean. Only if I wasn’t wearing my favorite jeans.” I gestured to the slightly wet stain on my black jeans.

He shared my humor and laughed along with me. “I hope I can make it up to you. I’m sure you read the card, but my name is Spencer.”

“I did catch onto that! And my name is-” He cut in and said “Y/N.”

“You have quite the memory! Let me guess, it’s the reason you’re a doctor?” I giggled.

“Yes, but not really a doctor. I have three doctorates though.” He spoke with his hands, justifying his genius-ness.

I nodded and tried not to think about my bachelor’s degree that sat on a shelf collecting dust. “May I ask, were those other FBI agents with you earlier?’

“Yes. It was my team, they’re great. I told them I was leaving anyway.” He shuffled his feet.

Part of me sighed in relief knowing that the blonde woman was just a coworker. I watched him glance over at the door, I’m sure watching out to see if his team would come looking for him. “How about we get out of here?” I grabbed my keys out of my purse.

“I don’t really drive, but we can go back to my apartment if you would like?” He looked back at me with a soft smile.

I told him I would love to drive and we walked back to my car which was just around the block. We were laughing and chatting the entire time, he climbed into the passenger seat of my car and I started the car.

“You can put your address in the GPS.” I looked up at his puzzled face as he stared at the GPS navigation touch screen. “Or I can do it for you if you’re scared of it.”

We shared a laugh before I admitted, “Don’t worry. It kinda scares me too.”

The entirety of the twenty minute ride back to his place felt so… natural. Like we’ve done this a million times before.

He walked me upstairs to his apartment and unlocked the door, letting me in first. I took in the sight of his small library that had taken over his apartment. Before going any further I took my shoes off and placed them right by the door.

“Make yourself at home.” He smiled and walked over to a record player and picked out a vinyl with a worn cover, placed it on the turntable, and set the needle on the record.

I was looking at all of the beautiful books and art as the dulcet sounds of soft jazz filled the deep emerald green walls of his cozy home.

Spencer whisked me around and caught me in his arms. I looked back up into his eyes and adored how his eyes complimented the entirety of his aesthetic.

He moved one of his hands to my lower back as I kept my hands pressed against his chest. “You look beautiful.” He said softly.

“Who knew I’d land a date with a handsome man in my work clothes?” I pawed at the cuff of my t-shirt.

He looked down at his attire, “Well these are my work clothes too.” He gestured with his eyes towards his grey suit.

We laughed as we swayed slightly to the music. I playfully tugged on his tie and stared back into his soft eyes. “Remember how you promised you’d help me out of these?”

“Trust me, Y/N, I would never forget.” He grabbed the back of my head and leaned in.

Spencer’s lips locked onto mine and devolved into a small kiss. My heart was beating fast and before I could clear my head from the euphoria, he guided me towards his room.

His room was cozy and he directed me to lay out on his bed. I got onto his bed and laid out for him. Spencer couldn’t wait to get his hands on me and the feelings were mutual.

I undid my belt and he took over with his much larger hands, undoing the button and unzipping the zipper.

He leaned in and kissed me again as he started to shuffle my pants off. I arched my back to help with the process. He carefully set them on the ground and untied his tie and opened a button on his shirt.

I whined softly as he dragged his hands down my thighs, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing him for another kiss.

His kisses were insanely addictive, I was getting drunk off of his love.

He started to take off his vest and shirt as I took off my own. Spencer’s eyes never left mine or my body. As he pulled off his pants he took a moment to soak in what was laying on his bed.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He spoke in an almost gravely tone. I smiled as my entire body tingled while he climbed on top of me.

His lips dived towards mine and crashed together in a moment of complete unison. I ran my hands through the curls on the back of his head, feeling his hands creep up towards my chest.

Our tongues swirled in dopamine through our heavy breathing. Time felt like it was going by so fast as we discovered each other's bodies. He was thin and slightly sculpted but strong.

He grabbed my hips and brought me down further on the bed to be level with his face. Spencer stopped for a second and looked deep into my eyes. “Is this going too fast?”

I moved my hands from his back to grip the arms that were standing on either side of me. “Only if you think it's going too fast. We don't have to do this tonight.” I looked back into his eyes trying to understand what was going on in his brilliant mind.

“I hope it doesn't bother you, Y/N. You’re still more than welcome to stay.” He softly offered as he laid on the bed next to me.

I rolled over and stared right back into his soft hazel eyes. “Spencer, I hope I’m not speaking too quickly, but we have the rest of our lives to enjoy more moments like these.”

He cupped my face with his hands and kissed me on the forehead. I closed my eyes and heard him whisper,

What do I say to someone who is my soulmate?

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#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader x character #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #soulmate #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid self insert #female reader #reader fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n