#in which case I catch him and bring him home to rest and sleep it off

[pathologicalreid]

cryptic | S.R.

You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.

who? spencer reid x fem!AFAB!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort a little bit) content warnings: oh geez. pregnancy, periods, weight, medical inaccuracy, cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, NICU, hospitals, maybe a little ooc i'm not sure, breastfeeding, reader is running solely on oxytocin, crying. word count: 6k a/n: does anyone else have an irrational fear of this? is it just me? that's why i wrote this anyways. also i wrote this MONTHS ago so if it's bad i'm not culpable. (yall voted for unhinged fluff, here it is) anyways i'm calling this part of my "spencer reid dilf agenda".

him

In his work life, Spencer faced fear every day – that was part of the reason he loved life with you so much. The two of you had just moved to your first house together and were still unpacking boxes when he was called away to upstate New York for a case.

You weren’t frustrated with him; you merely kissed him and encouraged him to go save the day.

So, when he told you last night that you must’ve hurt your back trying to move the couch, he didn’t think anything of it. He just told you to rest and to let him know how you were doing in the morning, but when the morning came, there was a break in the case. Spencer had completely forgotten that he was expecting your call.

As the team waited in the police precinct, he didn’t wonder why Hotch answered a phone call and furrowed his brows at Reid until he called him over to talk in private.

For once, his overactive mind went blank when Hotch explained to him that you were in the hospital and that he should call your best friend, Ivy.

In a daze, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket to find that he had missed two calls from you and thirteen calls from Ivy. Isolating himself in an abandoned office, he looked at your friend’s contact and pressed the call button.

The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring before Ivy answered, “Spencer! Oh my god,” she said, sounding relieved to be hearing from him. “I am so sorry for calling your boss. I pulled his number from Y/N’s contacts – I didn’t know how else to reach you, and I- “

“Ivy, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, teetering between panic and impatience. “She told me she thought he had just pulled a muscle moving,” he explained, wondering what could’ve happened.

On the other end of the call, Ivy took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s okay, but you have to come home,” she whispered, keeping her voice down.

Now he was leaning closer to panic, “Where is she?”

“Northern Virginia Hospital,” Ivy responded. “When you get here, call me, and I’ll bring you to her,” she told him.

Spencer took a deep breath and left the empty office once he ended the call, very nearly running into Hotch, “I need to- “

Holding his hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture, Hotch nodded, “There’s a flight going out, Morgan will drive you to the airport. Don’t worry about anything here,” he instructed him, gesturing over to where Morgan was standing with the keys to one of the SUVs.

After promising to call when he could, a thirty-minute flight, and a ten-minute taxi right, Spencer called Ivy back.

“Hey,” her voice was quiet through the receiver, “are you here?”

He turned around in the lobby of the hospital, “I just came in the front entrance; what wing is she in?” He asked. Which wing would a back injury be in?  He supposed it depended on the severity of the back injury.

She cleared her throat and there was a soft rustling before Ivy answered, “Stay put, I’ll come to you.” Her words came out quickly as if she was trying to prevent him from going looking for her.

Then he began to lean closer to impatience, nonetheless, he waited the couple of minutes that it took for Ivy to come out of an elevator, motioning for Spencer to catch up before they took the elevator back up. “Ivy,” Spencer said, “What is happening?”

“She called me at six this morning, saying that she thought she had pulled a muscle in her back and couldn’t sleep. I told her to take some ibuprofen and try to rest, and if she didn’t feel better by lunch, I’d bring her to urgent care. She called me again at ten and told me something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what,” Ivy informed him, her voice sounding distant. “She was crying, and I’ve never heard her sound so scared. So, I called an ambulance and met her here while she was triaged…” Her voice trailed off as they exited the elevator.

Spencer’s heart ached at the thought of you being so scared, but it still didn’t answer his question: What happened?

Ivy sniffled and wiped her nose, “Spencer, have you ever heard of a cryptic pregnancy?”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “She’s pregnant?” His words came out as a whisper, a mix of emotions flurried through him.

Your best friend smiled softly at him, “No, she had a baby. That back pain? She was in labor.”

Questions popped into his head quicker than he could ask him. He took a trembling breath, “Where are they?”

She led him around the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “She’s in postpartum recovery, the baby’s up a floor in the NICU. It all happened really fast; you know? Anyways, they kind of whisked the baby away while saying things about Apgar scores that we didn’t really understand.

They stopped for a moment to get Spencer a visitor’s badge before he motioned for Ivy to continue.

Ivy shrugged in response, “She was kind of inconsolable after that, they gave her something to calm her down, but she keeps asking for you,” Ivy said, stopping outside of a door.

Spencer peeked through the blinds to your room. You’re awake, lying on the white bed, absentmindedly picking at the hospital bracelet around your wrist.

“If you need a minute before going in there, take it. Once you go in there, you need to be strong or brave or whatever,” Ivy instructed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying you can’t be confused or upset, I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m saying she just gave birth unmedicated without ever even knowing she was pregnant, and they haven’t come back with an update,” she said, looking at Spencer like she was assessing a threat.

He nodded in understanding. Maybe when his head was clear he’d thank Ivy for being so protective of you, but he just nodded. “I need to be in there with her,” he insisted.

Ivy acquiesced, letting him know that she was going to go to the house to get clothes and was going to the store. At that point, Spencer had only been half listening to her.

You didn’t move on the bed when he opened the door. He looked at the whiteboard on the wall, his heart clenching when he saw the words ‘Baby Reid’ written below your name. Spencer quietly walked closer to you before he pulled a chair up so that it was at your bedside and took a seat. He could see tear tracks on your cheeks, “Sweetheart,” he whispered.

Your eyes closed, and two more tears streaked down your cheeks. There was an IV in your wrist and your vitals were being monitored. It wasn’t until Spencer leaned over and smoothed your hair back that you really started to cry.

Gently, Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned forward into him. He just held you, running a hand up and down your back as he gently shushed you, “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

“I had a baby,” you rasped, so quietly that Spencer wasn’t sure if you were telling him or trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.

He was quiet for just a moment, letting a few silent tears stream down his own cheeks. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”

You hummed, leaning back ever so slightly, closing your eyes when Spencer kissed your forehead. “I tried calling you,” you whispered, looking up at him with watery eyes and lifting your hands so that you could wipe away the tears.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize. There was no way for him to navigate this situation, but if he felt this lost, then he couldn’t begin to fathom how you were feeling.

Shaking your head, you waved off his apology, “Did you catch the bad guy?”

He nodded, smiling at your question, “Yeah, we got him this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call,” he said as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten? Do you need water?”

A slight smile grew on your face at his concern, a fact that made his heart soar, “I should probably eat something.” The smile faded quickly, “We should probably talk, right?” You asked, leaning forward in the bed to reach for a pile of papers at the foot of the bed.

Noticing a pained look on your face, Spencer set a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it,” he said, guiding you so you were lying back on the pillows. “Please be careful,” he reached for the papers and handed them to you.

Quickly, you flipped through the stack of papers that was now in your lap. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and they gave me all of these papers with my options, but we have space at the new house. I work from home most of the time anyway, and we can afford it and- “

Spencer cut you off, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yes,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed them again.

Studying you, he watched as you visibly relaxed into your hospital bed. He followed your gaze as you looked out the window of the hospital room, “Spence,” you breathed as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked into the room.

She looked at him, “Hello, are you dad?”

Dad. He was a dad. Spencer nodded enthusiastically at the nurse.

“I’ve got these bracelets for you two then, they’re to help keep little families like yours together,” she says, loping the white bracelets around both his and your wrist. “Baby’s got two,” she lets you both know. “So, Baby Reid had a hard time breathing at first, but we up in the NICU cleared some of the amniotic fluid from her lungs and everything is looking much better now. Another nurse is bringing the bassinet now…” her voice trailed off when someone knocked on the door.

He wanted to make sure he had heard the nurse correctly. Did she say ‘her’?

The door opened, and it was the tiny hat with the bow that gave it away. She wriggled on the white sheet in her bassinet, looking around her new surroundings. Spencer looked from you to her and couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes. It was an emotion that he couldn’t quite place.

Noticing the way you leaned forward, the nurse spoke, “Would you like to hold her?”

“I- Can I? Is she okay?” You asked nervously, for the first time that day, Spencer heard the fear in your voice.

Nodding, the nurse wheeled the bassinet closer to you, helping you move your hospital gown so that you could do skin-to-skin. As she did so, she talked about bonding with a newborn, but Spencer was so enamored watching you that he wasn’t really listening. “We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five weeks, so she’s late preterm, but she should be able to go home when you do,” the nurse informed you, making sure you were comfortable holding the baby before she stepped back.

The concept of being in a home surrounded by boxes with a newborn stressed him out, but then the tiny baby on your chest let out a squawk and he returned to just watching the two of you.

Both of the nurses left to give the three of you time, and you turned to Spencer, “What was thirty-five weeks ago?” You asked, gently rubbing your thumb over your newborn’s back.

“Exactly? July sixteenth,” he responded, watching your daughter as her eyes shut. “She fell asleep,” he observed, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

You hummed in response, bending your head down and pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “She needs a name,” you murmured, “we can’t keep calling her baby.”

Spencer leaned over the edge of your bed, “Do you have any ideas?” He asked, even though he already knew you’ve been keeping a list of baby names in your phone for years.

Shrugging ever so slightly, you peered down at your daughter, “All I know is that her last name’s gonna be Reid.” Your eyes flittered up to his, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll sob, and our daughter is asleep on me, and I don’t want to wake her up.”

“I just love you so much,” he told you softly.

“We can do this, can’t we?” You asked him nervously, narrowing your brows. “She doesn’t have a name. Our house is a disaster. Oh… Spence, we don’t have a car seat. We can’t take her home if we don’t have a car seat.”

Realistically, Spencer knew that you had at least twenty-four hours before you were released from the hospital, maybe forty-eight, given the circumstances. He also knew that you knew this, and he was afraid the events of the day were beginning to take a toll on you. He wasn’t going to say that, instead, he leaned forward and comforted you, “We’ll figure something out, I promise, okay? The name thing we can do.” He encouraged you to take one step at a time, “What about Ivy?”

Your head snapped up, “Really?” You asked, staying conscientious of the newborn on your chest.

“She was there for you through all of this when I couldn’t be,” he shrugged. “Did you know she dug through your contacts on your phone and called Hotch when I didn’t answer?” He watched a small smile tug at your lips, “I just think we should honor her in some way.”

Nodding, a full smile bloomed on your face, “Absolutely.” There was a brief silence, “Do you need to call Hotch? You can step out if you need to. We’re fine alone. I mean just for a little while not for- “

That was the second time you had nearly worked yourself into a panic. Spencer set a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, angel. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll handle it.” He promised, after all, you had already done the hard work.

You paused and took a deep breath at his encouragement, leaving the both of you in silence while you caught your breath. “What about Eleanor?”

He smiled and looked at your sleeping baby, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

The first time Eleanor, who had quickly been nicknamed Nell, cried with the two of you in the room was also the first time Spencer held her. He had been too nervous before, not that he’d tell you that, but when her wails started and he saw you wincing as you sat up in the bed, he instinctively picked her up.

He was still in his work clothes. Granted, he had taken off his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone, but it didn’t seem to bother Nell, the baby had quickly hushed upon contact. “Sit back,” he gently instructed, “Are you in pain?”

You nestled back into the pillows, “Just a little, they said it’s normal.”

Nothing about this was normal, Spencer wanted to say, but he knew you were well aware. He handed you the baby, knowing that it had been two hours since she last ate and that was likely why she was crying. According to the nurses, she was a good eater. He took their word for it.

Spencer watched you rock gently as Nell ate, you were staring off at nothing, so he asked, “What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m wondering why you’re not more freaked out,” you admitted, looking down at the newborn.

He leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know. I work best under pressure and with a little bit of chaos. It’s also highly likely that the entire situation hasn’t fully sunken in yet.”

You nodded understandingly, “It’s a lot to take in. If you think about it, most parents have months to fully prepare and wrap their heads around it. It’s been about ten hours for me. Maybe six hours for you.”

Nodding, Spencer watched intently as Nell fell asleep, her tiny fists falling and quiet coos coming from her. He heard you say something to him, but the words didn’t process. “What?”

Giggling quietly, you cocked your head at him, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. You seemed like you were taking to parenthood exceedingly well, he was afraid he wouldn’t match up.

In the end, it was your understanding smile that prompted him to agree. “Unbutton your shirt,” you ordered, laughing at him when he looked bewildered. “Skin-to-skin isn’t just for moms, Spence. Besides, I want you to bond. I want her to know who you are even when you’re away for work.”

He obliged your request, undoing his shirt so that he could gently place Nell on his bare chest. She squawked while she was being moved from parent to parent but quieted again as soon as she was being held, “she’s so small,” Spencer remarked, marveling at the tiny creature on top of him.

You nodded sleepily, “Four pounds, fourteen ounces. She had to fit behind my ribcage somehow.”

The oddness of the situation began to find a place in him. Were there changes in you that neither of you had noticed? Your period was always irregular, there was no significant weight change, and even morning sickness had seemed to totally pass you by. “I can’t believe we had no idea,” he murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nell’s head.

“I went to the doctor three months ago for chest pains, do you remember? I took an at-home pregnancy test just in case and it came back negative. The nurses here told me that there’s a less than one percent chance of that happening,” you informed him, slowly starting to mumble.

Spencer looked up at you to find that your eyes were fluttering shut. “You should sleep. I’ve got this.”

You grunted in protest, “but what- “

“No,” he interrupted. “She just ate, she’s sleeping, and you’re exhausted. I can spend some time with her while you sleep.”

Sleepily, you grinned, sliding down on the bed, and settling your head on the pillows, “Daddy’s girl,” you whispered.

He loved the sound of that.

you

You had always known that Spencer Reid was perfect, and as you watched him fall into the role of father, that knowledge became concrete. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and kept your gaze on the two of them, not daring to disturb the peace. Instead, you watched in awe as he held your daughter, softly speaking to her as if she could fully comprehend what he was saying.

For all you knew, she could understand what he was saying. She was Spencer’s kid, after all.

Gently, he whispered to her and one of her little fingers gripped his index finger. “Your palmar reflex lets you hold my finger like that, Nellie. It’ll go away when you’re six months old,” he softly swiped his thumb over her back as he murmured to her. “I don’t usually like surprises,” he admitted to the infant, “but you and your mama might just be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You grinned, reaching your hand out and touching the green armchair, “I love you.” He reached out a hand to hold yours. “Do you want to try to get some sleep?” You offered. Your body still ached, but getting some sleep had made you feel loads better.

“I don’t think I can,” he answered candidly. “I feel so…”

“Wired? Stressed?” You suggested.

He shrugged slightly, “I was going to say hyperaware, but yes,” he responded.

You wheeled the empty bassinet closer to him, “Set her down. Babies can sense stress. Take a minute, catch your breath,” you told him.

Reluctantly, Spencer placed Nell in the bassinet, adjusting the hat on her head while you watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly.

Your shoulders drooped involuntarily, “When was the last time you slept, love?” After years with Spencer, you know he would go days without sleeping in order to break a case. His lack of a response answered your question well enough. Quickly, you pressed your call button and asked if a nurse could take Nell to the nursery.

Once you made sure the baby was taken care of, you moved over in the hospital bed and patted the open space. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he told you.

That was the problem with Spencer. He would always put you, and now Eleanor, ahead of himself. It made your heart ache. “Spence, this has been the craziest day, and I can tell you haven’t slept. So, get over here and lay down with me,” you instructed.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer kicked off his shoes before lying next to you in the hospital bed, “Do you promise to wake me if you need anything?” He asked as he gingerly pulled you into his arms, afraid of hurting you.

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“I hate that saying,” Spencer whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline.

Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, “I promise, angel. Get some sleep.”

You startled awake, looking to make sure you didn’t wake Spencer. Your chest ached as you sat up, cringing at the noise your papery hospital gown made. Gingerly, you placed a hand over your heart, feeling the pounding of your heart and listening to the beeping of the monitor, cursing the screen for making so much noise.

This had happened earlier before Spencer arrived, and the doctor had given you something to calm down then.

When you came into the ER, they thought your appendix was bursting, but when they did an ultrasound, they found that you were in active labor. There was no time for an epidural, they didn’t have time to give you anything for the pain. A kind nurse held your hand and quickly explained what was going to happen.

Within thirty minutes, you arrived at the hospital, gave birth, and had your baby taken to the NICU.

It was too fast; your brain was so overwhelmed that it had shut down. It seemed like a ridiculous thought; how did you miss the birth of your daughter?

Hiccupping back a sob, you felt a comforting hand on your back, but the fact that you had woken Spencer up just made you cry harder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I love you so much, you know that, right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he comforted you. “It’s okay, it’s just all catching up with you, honey.”

You pulled away, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “It’s okay,” you repeated his words.

“What do you need right now?” He asked, smoothing your hair back. “Do you want to make a list? Do you want to move around?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you watched as Spencer pressed the call button and got up, helping you stand. Your legs shook, and you felt a bit like a foal, but it felt good to be out of bed. You haphazardly finger-combed your hair before stepping into hospital slippers and leaving the room. For now, the nurses instructed you to just walk around the maternity ward.

As the two of you walked around, you made several lists. Things you needed to buy. People you needed to call.

By the time you’d returned to the room, Ivy had returned. Spencer opened the door for you and helped you sit on the end of the bed.

“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ivy greeted, grinning with bags in her hands. She gestured to a suitcase, “First, clothes for both of you. I just grabbed whatever I thought might be good. Toiletries and stuff too,” she said, rolling the suitcase off to the side. “I grabbed a couple of newborn outfits, but again, I was kind of flying blind. The lady at the department store was extremely helpful.” She handed Spencer a bag of baby clothes. “I got a car seat, the same lady recommended it, she was probably getting a commission, but it’s in my car. I have approximately zero idea how to set it up, but I figured, Spencer has a doctorate in engineering. He can do it.”

You glanced blearily at your best friend, “Ivy, you didn’t have to do all of this. This is too much,” you confessed, holding a tiny onesie in your hand.

She dismissed your insistence with a wave of her hand, “I also got this.” Ivy held out a small stuffed duck. “I know it won’t do her much good now, but I couldn’t help myself.”

After you changed out of your hospital garb, you looked at Spencer, “Go call Hotch, we’ll be good here for a while.” You gestured to your best friend, who was filtering through the suitcase she had packed, trying to find your hairbrush. At your request, he told you he’d also ask the nurse to bring Nell back down so that Ivy could meet her.

Once he was gone, Ivy sat behind you on the bed and brushed through your hair, tucking it out of your face, you were finally beginning to feel a little bit more like yourself by the time she had finished.

You watched intently as the nurse arrived at the door, “Do you want to meet her?”

Ivy nodded enthusiastically, lips parting as she observed the small baby. “Is that her name?” She rasped, looking at the card on the bassinet, Eleanor Ivy Reid. “That’s not funny, don’t joke about stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your voice down as Eleanor slept. “It’s not a joke, and for the record, it was Spence’s idea,” you informed her, reaching into the bassinet, and scooping up the now-swaddled infant. “He’s so grateful that you were there for me, and I am too.”

She smiled, “I’m always going to be here for you two – you three now. Number one babysitter,” she said, pointing to herself. 

You sighed and looked from your friend to your daughter, “She’s got a whole FBI unit of babysitters.”

“I’ll be here when they’re away – when Spencer’s away,” she reminded you, carefully adjusting the hat on the baby in your arms.

The last thing you wanted to think of was Spencer being gone, leaving you to take care of a baby you weren’t ready for.

Ivy must have sensed your nerves, “Hey, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”

You nodded slowly, “It’s just all catching up with me. I have to call my mom. I have to call my boss. How do you retroactively apply for maternity leave?”

“One thing at a time,” she said soothingly. “Right now, just enjoy your time with your perfect little family. I’ll call your mom for you,” she offered. “If your boss gives you any grief, he’ll have to deal with me.” Standing up, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to go get food, do you two still have the same orders from the deli?”

Confirming with her, you moved so that you could feed Nell, watching her as she looked up at you. “She’s right, you know? You are perfect,” you cupped her head with your hand, looking up to find Spencer watching from the doorway.

“Hotch says congratulations,” he spoke gently, striding over to your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He also said to let the team know if we needed anything,” he let you know, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He continued to let you know that Hotch had offered to figure out Spencer’s paternity leave, and while you felt bad about giving Hotch something else on his to-do list, it felt nice to have one less thing on yours. 

You nodded, “Ivy’s gonna call my mom, so that’s two things off of our list.”

Spencer squeezed your shoulder, “They asked if they could come to visit, but I didn’t want to answer for you.” He moved back to the armchair, “I just said we’d let them know.”

“At the very least we’ll send a picture,” you murmured. “I’m surprised you’re not researching newborns right now.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “I asked one of the nurses if I could get access to the hospital library.”

You snorted, “Of course you did.”

No one from the BAU ended up visiting while you were in the hospital, mainly because the idea of too many people in the one hospital room made you anxious, but both you and Eleanor had been cleared to go home. Eventually, you would have to allow visitors.

“Spencer, you can go the speed limit,” you said from the backseat of the car, not taking your eyes off of the baby in her car seat.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror, “This stretch of road is bumpy. I don’t want to wake her.” Despite his anxieties, he was taking to fatherhood remarkably well.

You shook your head, “She’s already awake, babe.” She looked around her new surroundings, spending part of the six hours a day that she was awake going home for the first time. Part of the beauty of a newborn was that they slept for eighteen hours a day, but only in about fifty-minute bursts.

Spencer kept glancing back, and you made a mental note to get a mirror for the rear-facing car seat.

As he turned onto your street, you sat up slightly. “Who’s here?” You asked, looking at the cars in your driveway. You recognized Ivy’s car, but none of the others rang any bells.

“That’s JJ’s car, and that’s Morgan’s truck,” Spencer told you as he pulled into the driveway. Once he got out of the car, he ran around to where you were sitting. He opened the door, taking the car seat out of its base before helping you out of the car. “I had no idea they were here,” he said curiously.

You hummed thoughtfully, looking at Eleanor in her car seat. There was a part of you that felt horrible, you didn’t have anywhere for her to sleep set up. Another part of you knew that she’d be just fine sleeping in your arms while Spencer set something up. “Far be it from the BAU to abandon one of their own in their time of need,” you murmured, stepping through the front door as Spencer held it open for you.

Setting the carrier on the coffee table, you undid the clips so that you could hold the baby. As you lifted her, her legs scrunched up until you held her to your chest, at which point she settled.

“Where are they?” You asked, gently rubbing Nell’s back as she started to fall asleep on you. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen, across the counter, there were bottles set out to dry, along with other various baby things. “Oh, Spence,” you breathed.

There was a distinct lack of boxes in your house, they weren’t entirely unpacked, but there were much less than there had been when you left. A crash from upstairs got both of your attention, Spencer’s arm instinctively going around your waist.

Together, the two of you walked upstairs, finding members of the BAU in one of the rooms that was going to be a guest room setting up a nursery. “Hey?” You said, peeking in through the doorway.

“Oh my god!” Penelope said, “Wait, crap, sleeping baby.” She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified at the idea of disturbing the sleeping infant.

You smiled, looking around suspiciously, “What’s going on here?”

Rossi waved a finger at you, “Your best friend is a drill sergeant is what’s going on here.”

Confused, you turned around to see Ivy with her hands on her hips. “I thought you weren’t coming home until the afternoon,” she explained, “I was going to have them all out of here so you could have a nice peaceful house.”

“You enlisted the BAU to unpack our house?” You asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.

Ivy shrugged, “It started as just asking a question, but we all came to the same conclusion. The two of you were never going to ask for help, so we had to take matters into our own hands.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, “Plus, they have kids, so they actually knew what you needed,” she gestured to JJ and Hotch.

You leaned forward to give her a one-armed hug, keeping yourself mindful of the baby. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Penelope hugging Spencer.

JJ stepped forward, “I’m around. Any questions you have,” she assured you. “How are you feeling?”

Laughing nervously, you looked up at Spencer, “Still reeling.”

The rest of the team laughed too, which brought you some semblance of comfort. “I almost thought you were playing a prank,” Emily confessed.

“No, you definitely thought they were trying to prank us. You didn’t believe them until they sent the picture,” Morgan said, exposing her.

Appalled, Emily rolled her eyes, but you spoke up, “I’m not sure I would have believed us either.” Had you not experienced it firsthand, you definitely would’ve been skeptical. Eleanor was going on two days old, and you had still woken up wondering if it was all some kind of dream.

Spencer had previously told everyone that no one could hold her. He was concerned about germs. You echoed his concerns, just maybe not as strongly. So, instead, everyone just cooed at her until Spencer gently ushered you into your bedroom.

You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a bassinet set up next to your bed. Gently, you set her down while Spencer pulled the bedding down, “You should rest,” he told you softly.

“Spence, I just spent the majority of the last two days in a bed. I’m tired of bed,” you responded, sitting down on the ledge of the bed.

He hummed in response, “You just had a baby.”

Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, “Moving around will be good for me. I promise not to do anything to tear my stitches. I’ll just show Nell the house.”

“Babies don’t recognize their surroundings until four to six months, so she wouldn’t recognize anything you showed her anyway,” he told you.

You narrowed your eyebrows at him, “Spencer."

He held up his hands in concession, “Right, overbearing.”

“Hey,” you said softly, “We’re still figuring this out, right? So, we’ll take it one step at a time.” You offered, having already had an in-depth discussion about being okay with making mistakes. “Why don’t we go check out the nursery?” You stood up, watching as Spencer carefully picked Nell up, cradling her in his arms.

You led the way into the hallway to find JJ, Morgan, and Ivy finishing the nursery. Morgan and JJ moved the crib to a different side of the room while Ivy placed books on a shelf.

Ever so slightly, you leaned into Spencer, glancing at the sleeping infant in his arms, you reached over and cupped her head with your hand. “This is your family, Nell,” you whispered, smiling when Spencer leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

That was your first lesson in parenthood, it really does take a village.  

please remember to like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid dilf agenda

[someonealreadyhadmynickname]

Dad headcanons | Leon S. Kennedy

warnings: pregnancy

I picture Leon being in absolute bliss when you break the news to him. He’ll be laughing while hugging you. He’s never had a normal family, and I believe he would want children of his own. He’ll be so happy he won’t be able to erase a dumb smile from his face for the rest of the day.

Reads lots of articles on parenting and baby development.

A worrywart. One day several noises woke you up late at night and you discovered your husband babyproofing everything in the house. Turns out he was so worried he couldn’t wait til’ the morning.

You have to be very careful about mentioning your cravings because this man is driving in the middle of the storm if that means getting what you want. You’ll have to physically stop him from going out at ungodly hours just because you crave some donuts.

If it were up to him, you wouldn’t even get out of bed. He has to be holding your hand when you use stairs, no matter how many times you’ve tried to convince him you are totally capable of doing it alone.

“What’s next? I’m not allowed to use scissors?”

Your laugh slowly quietens as you notice Leon’s thinking face.

“... I don’t see why you would have to use scissors”

One day he came home with a big present box and when you opened it a german shepherd jumped at you. He got a trained police dog to keep you company. (Not before making extensive research on the best family dogs, of course).

On top of that, he would want to hire someone to help around the house because the thought of you being alone makes him worried sick.

He’s so silly. Talks to your belly all the time. When he comes home he always greets you with “how are my babies doing?”

He goes crazy with baby stuff. Clothes, plushies, bottles, toys, everything he sees in stores ends up in the baby room. The room is so full of stuff you two had to keep some things in the attic. He has promised to stop buying things several times but there’s always something that catches his eye and he has to get it.

“And this is a baby monitor— I know that face, you don’t like it”

“No, I love it, it’s just…”

“Yes?”

“You already bought one of those, love”

“Aha! No, I bought a different one. Now, you see, the one we had doesn’t had all the features this one has…”

Strikes me as the kind of guy who would want to wait a bit before telling people about the pregnancy… However, he ends up spilling the beans two or three times. Also, people kinda catch onto it because all he talks about is about children’s development.

Sometimes you wake up at night to find your lover lying awake, watching at the ceiling. Truth is, he can’t help but worry about your child’s future and spends hours thinking about it; but when you ask him what’s keeping him up, he always answers that the excitement of becoming a dad won’t let him sleep.

Will do the impossible in order to be with you during the delivery. He has warned his superiors months in advance that he needs to rest during the days when is probable the baby is coming. In the worst case scenario, where he isn’t able to make it in time, he is gonna be regretful for a very long time.

Definitely cries the first time he holds his baby.

He randomly wakes up at night and goes to check the baby. He’ll sit in front of the crib and stay there for a while, sometimes he picks the baby up and just holds them. Will always give them a kiss on their forehead before leaving.

Converses with the baby. He could be feeding them, or changing their diaper, and he talks to them as if they could understand him. Tells them about his day, how work is going. If you two were ever to argue (which is very rare and, if you do, always with a certain joke air), he is bringing the baby and puts them on his side. He looks at the baby and asks “can you believe this?”

You’ve found him watching baby cartoons not noticing the child is long asleep.

He is beyond cheerful because everytime you are carrying the baby, they raise their tiny arms to his dad wanting to be held by him.

Asks Claire to babysit whenever you two go out on dates.

Which he later regrets because now, everytime the baby sees Claire, they reach out for her. Even if Leon is carrying them. Makes him a bit jealous.

Your baby walks and talks very early on because of how much time Leon spends with them.

Every parent believes their kid is exceptional, but Leon could win the proudest dad competition. As your child grows up, Leon is so amazed by every milestone they complete. “I’m telling you, this child is going places”, he tells you the day your baby learns to roll over.

You mentioned to him once how cute you thought albums were, so now you two keep one for your kid. He takes terrible photos, but you think those are very adorable and keep them in the album.

Takes playtime seriously. He isn’t like those parents who don’t even care about what’s happening and leave at the middle of the game. Tea party? He is wearing his best clothes. Pretending to be spies? Won’t break character. He will be bashful if you catch him tho.

He has this ongoing thing with your child where they try to build the biggest sandcastle everytime you go to the beach.

He always says ‘I love you’ when saying goodbye. Once your child hurriedly kissed his cheek and pretended to leave, but Leon stopped them and said: “Everytime I tell you I love you, I mean it, it’s not just mindless words. Do you mean it?” He knows that, and god forbids it happens, he could not come back home one day. So it’s crucial for him for his child to understand how much he loves them.

It breaks his heart to leave his family so often. On one occasion he overheard your child begging you to talk to their father and ask him to please stop going on missions.

I picture him having a daughter.

The kind of man who takes his daughter to dates. Everytime he brings you flowers, he has another bouquet for his princess.

Your daughter is a performer. She makes up dances and songs and performs in front of you two.

Once, when she was young, she told him she wanted to marry him. He answered he couldn’t marry her because he is already married to you, to which your girl replied “Can I marry uncle Chris then?” Leon hasn’t recovered from that.

Maybe a bit delusional but you two invite over his D.S.O friends for Christmas, Claire and Chris included, and everyone brings a present for your daughter.

He’d like more than one kid, but often worries about what would happen to his family if he ever goes missing, so for now, another one isn’t in the plans.

Lying by your side at night, he sometimes thanks you for the opportunity to have a family.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #re2 #resident evil #resident evil 2 #fluff #leon headcanons #tw pregnancy

[dantakeyoman]

Hi! I wanna cry out my heart tonight so is it alright for you to make a neteyam x reader where neteyam comes back home after the war but hears that reader is mated/bonded with someone else?

Btw I love your works omg! 🥹

Neteyam Returns From the Metkayina and Falls In Love With You Again After Seeing You (SFW / Comfort)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: i'm sorry but i couldn't bring myself to do it :'), i had it all planned out but it was just too sad, i hope you're alright with the change tho, fluffy fluff, simp Neteyam appearance, reader is one too, Lo'ak and Kiri are, yet again, Lo'ak and Kiri, skeezy is when someone is weird or creepy, figured I’d slide some black slang in there

"Someone's excited," Kiri giggles, turning to Neteyam as her and Lo'ak's ikran approached the entrance to the Omaticaya Stronghold.

The boy had had this childlike expression plastered on his face nearly the whole way home, which grew in giddiness the closer the family drew to their forest home.

Even in the earlier days when they had stopped for rest, she clearly remembered how much he mumbled your name in his sleep, as if it were a prayer.

It made her want to swoon and gag at the same time.

He's so hopeless.

"Yeah. We all know what your excited to see," Lo'ak smirked, pulling his ikran closer to Neteyam's, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Or should I say...who?"

Neteyam scoffed, rolling his eyes at their antics.

Ever since their journey started, the teasing had been relentless. So much so that it didn't even faze him anymore.

What's a few more minutes of it anyway?

Seeing you again would be his greatest reward.

Four years of pining and longing would all be worth it. 

The hard days, the cold nights, the times where he felt like he couldn't anymore. You came to him, be it a dream, or a memory, and told him you could.

It was what made him love you so much.

Even if you weren’t there, you were there for him, easing his body, mind, and soul.

Back when he lived with the Omaticaya, you two had a special spot that one would go to if they were sad, mad, tired, or simply overwhelmed.

The other would comfort them, hold them close, say sweet nothings, make the other feel loved. 

It became a regular thing. And now that he was coming back, it was the very first thing he wanted to do with you.

He wanted to feel you run your hands through his hair, he wanted you to trace his glowing freckles, he wanted you whisper how much you loved him into his ear.

Fuck.

“You know what would be hilarious? If she found a mate already,” Lo’ak poorly joked, turning to Kiri.

This quickly brought Neteyam out of his reverie, a nervous frown quickly replacing his smile

Kiri was quick to catch this.

“Don’t joke like that, skxawng!” she scolded, flicking him harshly on the head, earning an angry ow! from him.

“Last I checked, (y/n) was obsessed with Neteyam. She wouldn’t shut up about him. I highly doubt she would ever find someone else.”

But the words went through one ear and out the other.

The thought you would mate with someone else never crossed Neteyam’s mind. But now that it did, it made perfect sense.

Four years was a long time, and you were a beautiful woman.

No doubt some skeezy warrior tried to snatch you up the moment you came of age.

The thought made his blood boil, and his heart wrench.

This couldn’t be the case.

After all he’d been through throughout these four years, the only thing that was keeping him going was the thought of you waiting for him at home.

Now that there was a possibility of you no longer being his, he was truly contemplating turning back.

“Look alive kids. We’re here,” his dad smiled, pulling his ikran to the front of the pack.

“Yay! Home!” Tuk cheered from her spot with Neytiri, earning a laugh from the woman.

She was quite excited to be home, too.

They swooped into the cave, perching the ikran on the stone ledge before dismounting, the entirety of the clan running towards them, crowding the family.

Shouts and cheers of excitement echoed throughout the cave, the cave happy to see their former Olo’eyktan had returned, hopefully ready for him, or his son, to resume the mantle.

Despite the thick crowd, Mo’at managed to make it to the front of the mantle, along with the new Olo’eyktan.

“Jakesully, oel ngati kameie,” Mo’at nodded, pointing her hand from herself to Jake.

“Mo’at, oel ngati kameie. Olo’eyktan, oel ngati kameie,” Jake did the same, turning to the Olo’eyktan as well.

Once the formalities were out the way, Mo’at smiled, enveloping her family in a large hug.

“Welcome home,” she greeted.

The entire family hugged her back, the children happy to see their grandmother again.

“Grandmother! You will never believe what we have seen! All of the sea animals and the plants! Oh, and the tulkun!” Tuk happily rambled, hanging onto her grandma a little longer as the rest of the family broke away.

“I am sure you will tell me all about it tonight. My, you have gotten big!” Mo’at assured, hugging her granddaughter tightly.

While Neteyam was happy that his family was fully reunited once again, he still found his eyes scouring the crowd, looking for a familiar face.

Your familiar face.

“She is in the healing tent,” Mo’at whispered, recognizing her grandson’s distress.

He smiled, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before running off through the crowd, down the familiar path that always led him to you.

Visions of the day he left flashed through his head, reminding him what he was coming back to.

“Are you sure you have to go?” you tearfully asked, cupping his face in your hand.

“I must. My family will put everyone in the clan in danger if we stay,” he sighed, pulling you in closer by your waist, resting his forehead on yours.

“Well if you must,” you sniffled, quickly wiping a tear from your eye. “Then I support you. I will wait for you, Neteyam. For as long as it takes.”

When he snapped himself out of it, he was already at your tent flap, the piece of cloth the only thing keeping you two apart.

He was about to grab it, but stopped mid-way, hesitating.

What if you had really found someone else to love?

“I will wait for you, Neteyam. For as long as it takes,” your words repeated in his head.

He sighed, steeling his nerves, before yanking open the tent flap, walking in.

“Tsahey! How many times have I told you, Ateyo! You have to be more careful when climbing trees. If you had fell any different, you would have cracked your skull open,” you scolded, smoothing a mushroom salve over a large cut on a young boy’s forehead.

You back was turned, and you didn’t hear the flap sound over the boy’s complaints.

“Hitxoa, (y/n). I tried to be extra careful this time! But a syaksyuk came out of no where and shook the branch!” Ateyo whined, wincing at the sting of the paste.

The air caught in Neteyam’s throat as he got a good look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body.

You had grown so much.

Your hair had gotten longer, your chest had gotten larger, and your hips had gotten slightly bigger, with a slightly deeper curve to them.

It was making something stir in his stomach.

The feeling reminded him of that word he had caught his dad calling his mom once. The one that Neytiri hissed at him for when she realized the children were around.

What was it?

Sexy.

When you stopped rubbing the salve on him, the little boy opened his eyes, only for them to land on the tall, warrior behind you, who gave him a polite wave.

The boy gasped in shock, his eyes growing wide with awe.

He knew exactly who he was, every Omaticayan boy did. 

Neteyam the Warrior, brother to Lo’ak the Warrior. 

Stories of the brothers’ adventures were known throughout the clan. And they practically became legends to the children. 

You cocked a brow, slowly turning around. 

“What are you-.” Your breath hitched when your eyes met that of the warrior before you, his smile growing at the sight of your face.

You had gotten more beautiful, too.

You slowly stood up, looking the boy...no, man, up and down, a dark shade of blue growing on your cheeks.

He had gotten incredibly tall, and beefier, too. 

And with new muscle, came new scars, which now littered his body, in a good way.

In an attractive way.

You would enjoy hearing stories about them as you traced them later tonight.

“Oel ngati kameie, my love,” he smirked, doing the gesture along with it, deeply hoping those words were still true.

The biggest smile you had smiled in four years found their way to your lips as you broke into a run, tackling the poor man in a bear hug.

“My Neteyam! You have returned!” you exclaimed out of pure happiness, throwing your arms around his neck and going on your tippy-toes to kiss him on the lips.

You were no longer tall enough to kiss him normally.

He laughed into it, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him ( if that was even possible ).

After your display of affection, he felt foolish to think you would ever mate with someone other than him.

As the two of you broke apart, he looked into your beautiful, honey eyes, and smiled as saw they held so much love behind them.

You were looking at him as if he hung the stars right before you.

And he recognized this because this was the very same look he would give you.

When you weren’t looking, of course.

“Look how beautiful you have grown. You must be the most sought woman in the clan,” he smirked, sensually tucking a stray braid behind your ear.

You smirked right back, bringing your hands to rest on his chest.

“Ah, yes. It has come to that,” you playfully sighed, leaning in closer so your mouth lay just outside his ear, bringing your voice down to a whisper.

“But I have saved myself for you.”

Neteyam quietly growled, the stir in his stomach increasing tenfold as he thought of what would happen if he took you to Utral Aymokriyä tonight.

“As have I,” he huskily whispered back, giving your neck a quick peck.

His tone made you shudder, suddenly begging for eclipse to come so you two could sneak off.

“GROSS!” the little, forgotten boy exclaimed from the corner, holding his stomach as if he were about to throw up.

“Disgusting! You’re a warrior! You’re not supposed to like this lovey-dovey stuff!” he groaned, pointing to his mouth and gagging.

“Get out of here!” you scolded, turning around and placing your hands on your hips.

But not before Neteyam pulled you into him, your back resting on his strong chest.

“Yeah. Before I start kissing her again,” Neteyam teased, placing a long, dramatic kiss on your cheek, making you giggle.

“GROSSSSS!” the boy loudly groaned in agony, covering his eyes as he ran out the tent.

The two of you laughed at the boy’s antics before you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck once more.

You both stayed in comfortable silence, having a silent conversation as you stared into each others eyes, taking in every detail and committing it to memory.

Just in case you two would have to separate again.

“You know,” you started, smirking as one of your hands find it’s way to Neteyam’s hair, rubbing it in the way you remembered he liked.

“I was being serious before. I have saved myself.”

You gave a light tug to some of his hair, and the man let out a strained groan, using every ounce of his strength to keep him from closing his eyes in pleasure.

You massaged his head so well.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hold you again,” he sighed, tightening his grip around your waist.

You smiled, inching your face closer to his, to the point where your lips were a hair away.

“Then what are we still waiting for?” you purred.

That was his tipping point.

With a growl, he enveloped your lips in a passionate kiss, and you kissed him back with just as much fervor.

Hooking his hands under your thighs, he picked you up, carrying bridal style as he took you the back way out the tent.

“Neteyam!” you squealed, pulling out the kiss and tightening your grip around your neck, keeping yourself from falling.

“Quiet, my love. Or people will hear us,” he smirked, placing a quick kiss on your lips before running the both of you out the back entrance of the Stronghold.

Sure, you were serious about what you said. But past Neteyam would’ve never been bold enough to actually go through with it.

He had changed in these four years. He had grown confidence.

It was making something stir in you, even more so as you knew your destination would be Utral Aymokriyä.

This is going to be fun.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow #omitacaya

[asumofwords]

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Talks of domestic violence, talks of trauma, talks of toxic relationships and infidelity, survivors guilt, victims guilt, manipulation, family issues, smut, creampie, fluff (lol).

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I've had some intense writers block and didn't quite know how to finish this chapter haha, so hopefully I did it some justice finally. Enjoy <3

Chapter 9: Eye of the storm 

You didn’t know what to expect after your argument turned ‘talk’, if you could call it that, with Aemond the night before. Nor did you know how to react when you woke that morning and saw, much to your dismay, that the kitchen was empty.

There was no steaming tea waiting for you like there had been usually, nor was there the presence of your brooding roommate. It didn’t help that when you ventured to the kitchen expecting to see your mug and your tea perfectly made for you, that it was not there, and your heart felt a twinge of pain. 

You had to reason with yourself that he needed space. Time. And that perhaps he had taken you up on your encouragement to think about his actions before he went to sleep. And if you were really lucky, which you hoped you were with some bitter spite, he may have even stayed awake all evening, staring up at the ceiling the entire night and was now having to catch up on the sleep he hadn’t got. 

But that wasn’t the case. 

Because Aemond’s door was wide open, and when you opened the dishwasher to check, there you saw a singular mug inside, the tiniest of coffee drips sliding out of the mug and over the rack. 

Aemond was awake. 

Aemond wasn’t home. 

And Aemond had made himself coffee, and not you.

But you questioned yourself if you would have made tea for someone after an argument. Then you remembered, that yes, you had. And yes, you would again.

But Aemond wasn't you.

Had you pushed him too far?

Was bringing up his childhood something you shouldn’t have done?

These thoughts tumbled through your mind as you made your tea and readied yourself for the work day.

The morning went by slowly. When you were ready, you left for work and spent the entire day biting at your lips and fingernails in anxiety at the thought of when you would come home to the nightmare that you had a hand in creating. 

Thankfully for you, Larys was off sick, or off site, or whatever Jasper had told you; you had barely been listening. Barely even been present as you skimmed through your emails and went through the motions of your tasks mindlessly, mind on one thing and one thing only.

Him.

When you got home the apartment was empty which you had expected. It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt though. 

Perhaps he went to go stay with one of his friends? 

Or maybe he was out on one of his many jogs? Or doing whatever else he did during the day that you were not privy to. 

So you settled for your made up alibis, and slid into the kitchen, playing some soft music, though just soft enough in the hopes of being able to hear him come home, and began to cook your dinner.

But by the time you had cooked, and eaten, and bathed, and crawled into bed, it was nearing midnight and still Aemond had not come home. 

You laid in your bed, and stared up at the roof for what felt like forever, looking at the ceiling medallion, trying to ease your mind and not have thoughts of the illusive man that was Aemond running amuck in your mind. But no matter what you did, no matter how many videos you watched on your phone, or memes you cracked a smile at, you still could not find rest. 

Sighing loudly, you checked the time.

3am. 

Fuck.

Thinking that a cup of tea might help you to settle, you threw back your sheets and climbed out of bed, leaving your phone on charge as you moved blindly through your room in the dark, and out to the kitchen. 

The lights were off in the apartment, and only the softest of orange glows from an outdoor street lamp came through the bathroom window. The rest of the apartment was bathed in black, barest hints of moonlight streaming in through the kitchen. 

Silver hair caught the light of the moon and thus your attention, and you watched as a small red ember grew in size with the inhale of Aemond’s cigarette. 

Aemond, it seemed, could not find sleep either.

He stood in the kitchen, just as sleepless as you, black shirt thrown over grey sweats as he leant against the kitchen windowsill, blowing smoke outside with each drag.

His silver tresses of hair glimmered, reflecting the light, as though each strand had been made of moonlight itself.

You watched as his lips pursed to take another drag, tilting his head towards you as and indication that he had noticed your presence. But it wasn't for you. He did not greet you, nor did he turn his head to face you, staying still as he was, looking out into the night.

With soft steps, you made your way over, flicking on the kettle to boil some water, quietly pulling down a mug, then thinking about it for a moment, and reaching for a second, grabbing some chamomile tea bags for the both of you putting them in the cups.

The sound of the kettle was loud in your ears as you waited for it to boil, shifting on your feet awkwardly as you watched Aemond finish his cigarette, twisting the end on the outside of the brickwork, leaving the butt on the sill. 

You watched in the corner of your eye, as he rolled another with deft fingers and a precision that you admired secretly. 

When the kettle had boiled, you poured the water over the tea bags, picking one up, to hand to him. You averted your eyes, looking down to where his long fingers held the cigarette in his pointer and middle, wordlessly handing him the mug. 

It hovered between you for a moment, arm outstretched as Aemond looked at it. Time moved slowly as he did not reach for the tea, and for a moment, your heart sank, disappointment settling in your gut as the weight of the mug became heavier and heavier.

As you were about to pull it back admitting defeat, Aemond reached a slender hand, grasping the boiling hot mug from its sides, which would have no doubt burnt at his palm hotly. He didn’t thank you or nod his head in appreciation, not that you were looking to see, but instead, he placed the mug on the sill, picking up the lighter with the other hand as he moved to light the cigarette between his lips. 

You grabbed your mug and leant against the kitchen bench on the opposite side of the window with him, looking out into the darkness, barely registering the buildings more than 10 metres away. 

Anything to not look at him. 

To not ruin the perfectly calm moment that the two of you had reached in that moment. 

Finally in the eye of the storm. 

You brought your mug up to your lips, blowing the steam from the top, the smell of chamomile wafting around you. You sipped at the brew, feeling the heat travel down your throat and settle into your stomach warmly. 

You refused to speak first. 

Or to say anything at all really. 

Not wanting to push him again, to ruin the calm that settled between you, to then end up with the both of you, red faced and shaking with anger. You didn’t trust yourself to not explode, nor did you trust his ability to speak to you in a way that wasn’t patronising.

If Aemond wanted to speak, he would speak, and if not, you were content to sit in this silence to at least show that you could listen, would listen, if he so dared to open his mouth.

To show that you were willing to be around him despite his shitty behaviour. 

Smoke billowed from his lips, and the cigarette that was held delicately, yet almost even carelessly between two fingers, was shifted out towards you. You looked down at it, for one beat, then two, before placing your mug of tea down to grasp the cigarette from him. 

Warmth spread through your arm as your fingertips brushed over his, butterflies erupting in your chest, but you shoved that feeling down quickly, bringing the cigarette up to your lips to inhale. You took a drag, feeling the smoke sink into your lungs before you blew it out quietly, feeling the rush of it go to your head. 

“I thought about what you said.” Aemond finally breathed into the night, voice quiet and shy.

Your eyes lifted to look at him. His gaze was still outside as he leant forward on the window, hands clasped together, elbows on the edge of the wood. He fiddled with the signet ring on his pinky, turning it side to side. 

Bringing the cigarette up to your lips again you took another drag, letting Aemond have the space to talk, and also using the smoke as a means to force yourself to stay quiet so that he could say what he needed to say, and then you would go to bed.

Yes, that’s what you would do. Hear him out, most likely another shithouse apology, and then go to bed angry but vindicated.

Wordlessly you held out his smoke, watching as he kept his eye lowered as he took it from your hands, mug of tea in the other, palm wrapped around the porcelain which you questioned if he enjoyed the sting, or the grounding of the pain. 

Maybe he was punishing himself.

Aemond brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaled deeply and then exhaled a breath as he spoke, “And you were right.” Smoke curled under his nose as he inhaled it back inside, “But you were also wrong too.” 

You let your eyes roam his side profile, his nose long and sharp, lips pursed as he sucked at his gums, tongue rolling over the front of his teeth, thinking of the words to say next, perhaps thinking of how to apologise to you properly this time. 

“I am sorry. For what I said to you.” He apologised, true repentance on his tongue, “It wasn’t right, and you didn’t deserve that. I know you’re just trying to be a good friend to Helaena by doing me a favour, and I know that you’re trying to be a friend to me.” Aemond inhaled slowly, bringing up the cigarette to take another drag, “But like I tried to say, these things don’t come easy to me.”

Despite his apology, there was still his lingering attitude in the way he spoke, the words he had chosen. The way he conducted himself, as though he was angry that he had been called out, or that he had to be a better person to you.

You chewed at your cheek, not wanting to respond just yet, holding out your fingers towards him as he handed you the cigarette. 

Another brush of hands. 

You held the filter in your fingers, turning the cigarette softly as silence fell over the two of you.

Aemond brushed an uneasy hand through the front of his hair, large hand sliding down his neck as you watched his eyelashes flutter, up, down, but never once looking at you. 

As though he couldn’t bare to face you. 

He inhaled sharply, bare foot tapping on the tiled floor in irritation, “I know you think you know what happened between me and Alys, but Helaena doesn’t even know the whole of it. I-“ Aemond paused, swallowing thickly, “It’s not been easy these past few months without her, not that it was ever easy.” He sadly scoffed, adjusted his weight on his legs, “But she’s been trying to get back with me, texting, calling, and I don’t- I don’t know… I think it’s finally caught up to me what happened.”

You handed the smoke back, sipping your chamomile tea, enjoying the burn that it gave you, and also the way that it calmed your nerves, giving you something to focus on rather than the way that Aemond seemed to begin to curl in on himself, taking every fibre of your being to not reach out and comfort him. 

He chanced a glance at you, and stooped over the window, bent from the hips, his eye line was below yours, and so he had to look up at you through his lashes, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

Aemond brought the smoke to his lips, holding it there for a moment, before he began to speak, fingertips resting over his mouth as he spoke, “It wasn’t always bad, but she was much older,” He shifted again uncomfortably and you mirrored his action, “And I was too young and naive to see the truth of it.”

You hadn’t expected this.

Hadn’t expected Aemond to open up to you about Alys, something that had been clearly affecting him as of late. 

Aemond sighed in a breath and you watched as he began to turn his signet ring with his thumb again, eye watching to motion carefully, methodically twisting it in sets of three. 

Twist, twist, twist. Pause. 

Twist, twist, twist. Pause.

“She was one of my tutors at KLU,” Aemond explained, and you felt your stomach drop, "It wasn’t- it started innocently enough. Lessons here and there, but then she- Well I… It felt good to be wanted. Felt good to have something that no-one could take from me. Not Viserys, not my brother, not- But then someone found out, and Alys said that we needed to leave KLU so that we could be together.”

Your lips parted in shock, watching as Aemond shook his head, taking a frustrated drag of the cigarette, ash falling from the end onto the sill which he swiped away with a finger agitatedly, “So I stopped my degree, left KLU, and went to Harrenhal with her. At first it was easy, perfect. I was so in love with her, but then she kept pushing the idea of having kids, of getting married.”

Married.

Kids.

“At first I was excited,” His eye flicked onto you, a sad smile pulling downwards on his lips, “Who doesn’t want to hear from the love of their life that they want to settle down? But then she kept asking about Viserys, and the law firm, and inheritance.” He spat, “And I knew, I knew that she was using me… But I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t. I loved her.” 

A twinge of empathy rolled through you.

How could you have been so blind to this?

“So I stayed, and it just got worse.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to say that you were sorry, to comfort him, but Aemond shook his head at you, watching as the words stuck in the back of your throat, “She started seeing other people,” Your mouth went dry, your own understanding of how he must of felt settling in your chest painfully, “And at first she kept it a secret, but then she did it more openly.”

You had the sudden desire to wring his ex’s neck.

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he spoke bitterly, looking down to his hand again where he twisted the ring more agitatedly, twist, twist, twist, pause, “Would taunt me about it. Fuck them in our bed. Would tell me I needed to ‘man up’ if I wanted to stay with her, told me I needed to be better for her, do better.” Aemond sighed, taking the last drag of the smoke, clearing his throat, “We were together for years, and she was all I knew. I didn’t-“

How could she have done this to him?

How could anyone have done anything like this to a person?

It was cruel. Inhumane. Horrible. And suddenly, the way Aemond behaved, his insecurities about Cregan, his jealously and refusal to let you get close began to make more and more sense.

You watched as his adams apple bobbed in his neck, “I didn’t know how to leave. I didn’t want to leave. Because when she was good, she was amazing. She was everything I wanted, everything I thought I deserved. Everything she made me believe I wanted. But when it was bad, it was…” Aemond trailed off, words caught in his throat, emotion beginning to boil over, "We would fight all the time. She would break things, cuss me out, tell me I was pathetic.” He swallowed again, voice quieter, “Hit me… And I was just an idiot in love who stood there and took it.”

Your chest ached painfully and you felt tears pull in your eyes.

Aemond.

You frowned, “You weren’t an idiot,” You said quietly, “You were in an abusive relationship, Aemond.”

The Targaryen blew air sharply through his nose, “I knew it was toxic and yet I stayed. Hoped it would get better. Waited for her to see that I was the only one she needed. That I could be good for her. Be better. I just- I thought we could be happy, like she promised. She was my first- And I-“ The silver haired man cleared his throat to sip at his tea.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to him, tears threatening to spill over, “I am so, so sorry, Aemond. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I don’t want your pity,” He said quietly back, ego wounded, lingering pieces of denial and pain preventing him from being more vulnerable than he was, preventing him from letting anyone to see him as a victim, "I don’t want you apologising to me either. I deserved it.”

Your heart raced in your chest, “You didn’t-“

“-Could you for one second in your life not make excuses for me? I don’t want you to- I don’t- I feel-“ Aemond paused, not sure how to find the words, not sure how to move forward, and so you gave him a different path.

“How did you leave?”

The signet ring tapped loudly against his mug of tea.

Tink. Tink. Tink.

“Mum called, told me Viserys was sick, it looked bad at the time,” You noted how he called his dad by his first name, “I didn’t know how to feel about it. I was… lost. And Alys didn’t even care. Didn’t care that my… father… was sick. Didn’t care that he was dying. I stopped my studies for her, I left everything behind for her. Friends. Family. Everything. And she didn’t even care. She just asked how much I would inherit, asked if I would get the law firm. She- she didn’t- she just-“

Your hand lifted before you could stop it, setting it against his shoulder gently. Aemond’s entire body bristled, as though your touch had sobered him up, and you watched in disappointment as the brick walls began to build behind his eye again. 

“That’s horrible. Really, you didn’t deserve any of that. Your partner is supposed to love and support you. Listen to you. Be there for you. I’m sorry that you were so alone.” You empathised, “She sounds ho-“

“-Don’t.”

Even in his weakest of moments, even when in times of pain or reminiscing on the abuse, Aemond still would not let anyone say anything about Alys.

The good, the bad, or the ugly. 

It was his to talk about. 

And his alone.

“I know,” He continued, looking at your carefully, his silver lashes brushing against his cheeks as he momentarily looked down at your hand on his shoulder, and then back up at you. 

The way he gazed at you made your chest constrict, “-I know that you probably don’t care about this,” You shook your head and Aemond sighed inwardly, “But I needed to tell you. To explain. I don’t want sympathy, or for you to make excuses for me. You said-... I listened to what you said. I'm trying, Y/n. In the only way I know how.”

You let your thumb rub his shoulder soothingly before you stepped towards him, your shoulder brushing his as you both looked out the kitchen window into the dark of the night, a blanket of quiet enveloping around the two of you, only this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

If he was sharing, then you would too.

“I caught Jason cheating on me with his now girlfriend, I think I told you that once. Caught them in our bed together, and he blamed me for it.” You breathed, lifting the tea to your lips, finding your mouth suddenly dry, “It wasn’t the first time though. But it was the last time. I knew he had a reputation but I ignored it. Fools in love, you know?”

Aemond nodded his head and huffed a quiet, bitter laugh.

“He was just so charming, and when I met him on campus, all the girls chased him, but he chose me. And it made me feel special, to have him choose me like that over them. Such a stupid pick me moment now that I look back at it." You scoffed quietly, "I think I was just so caught up on actually being desired… I know now that he didn’t. He was still sleeping with them, but still. I get what you mean about staying, hoping for better. I mean- I obviously- He never- He didn’t physically-“

“-It’s okay. I know what you mean.” Aemond reassured you, and you felt your heart quieten from its speeding pace.

You continued, “But I was never isolated. I was never alone. I had my friends. I had Hel. And if we are truly being as candid as I think we are being right now, I had a family who was there to support me, which I feel that you perhaps didn’t.” You looked down at your mug, watching the way the teabag shifted in the cooling water, Aemond’s gaze on you.

He lifted the cup to his lips and drained the last of the dregs of tea before settling it on the window sill, eye cast to the dark, then back to you, then out to the dark again in contemplation. 

“I heard Cregan tell you about what happened to me.”

Anxiety and regret poured through you. 

What else had he heard?

“Viserys had always been sick.” He explained, and you knew this already from what Helaena had told you, “Growing up, he was always at the doctors and the specialists, and was never really there. But in all honesty, I don’t think, even without the illness, that he would have been there. He-“ Aemond fiddled with the ring on his finger, family insignia pressed into its centre.

Twist, twist, twist, pause. “He never really got over his first marriage. Never got over the death of his first wife, Aemma. And I think,” You watched him lick his lips, “I think mum was a convenience to him. They married for convenience. She was more caregiver than wife… I mean, he loves her. I know he does. But he could have done more. And he never really paid attention to me and Aegon. Helaena he adores, but even then, their relationship is strained, not what it should be.”

Helaena often told you about her want for their father to spend more time with the boys, but he seemed to never have much interest in them. Not once giving Aegon, Aemond or Daeron the praise they needed, and only ever being cynical in their achievements, stating that they could be doing more, or that they were doing not enough. 

This of course led to the way Aegon came to be the way he was. 

Aemond chewed at his bottom lip, “A few years back I went to visit him. And mum. Went with Hel and Aegon. Daeron couldn’t come because of his studies. But we went together, a united front, and I just- I had this child’s hope that he would see me. But he was barely lucid on painkillers that he didn’t even know who I was. But he remembered Rhaenyra.” His voice got darker, resentment and anger and sorrow swirling on the tip of his tongue, “Said to her, in front of all of us, ‘My only child’.”

Your mouth gaped open. 

Aemond spared a glance at you and shook his head, laughing bitterly, “Aegon laughed, but you could tell it stung, being the eldest boy and all. He just laughed and then drank himself into a stupor. Hel was quiet, and I-“ He rolled his shoulders back, “I just left. I don’t know what I was expecting.” 

His voice shifted, brows furrowing as his lips twitched at the sides, pulling into a tight flat line. It was an attempt to not sneer as clear as day, “But Rhaenyra, she tried. She tried to say we were there, tried to explain to him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her defend us like that, but it was no use. It was too late. We didn’t grow up together, we didn’t have that kind of bond. I know mum had a play in it. And after the incident, I guess it was just better for all of us that we parted ways."

You nodded, knowing all too well about this.

“When I lost my eye, it was an accident.” Aemond’s voice got quieter as his fingers traced the scar on his cheek and brow in memory, “And Cregan told you the rest, but he doesn’t know about what happened after. I had no-one.” He breathed, and you felt yourself shifting closer to him, hoping your presence would give the man some sort of comfort for the words that seemed to continue to spill forth from his lips in an endless stream of cathartic release. Thoughts and feelings that he had told you had not even been uttered to his sister. 

“Mum was so hellbent on taking Rhaenyra to court that she didn’t stop or spend time with me when I was recovering in hospital. The only person there was Criston, and that was because mum made him. Hel, Aegon and Daeron went back to school, and I stayed in the hospital alone. I can’t- I don’t-”

Aemond swallowed, eye shutting as he stood to his full height, “I’m tired. I’m going to go to bed.”

Anxiety wound a coil in your gut.

Had he said too much?

Does he regret speaking to you?

Would he go back to being cold again? Quieter?

Your hand shot out before you could stop it, grabbing his larger one in your own. You watched as Aemond flinched slightly, hand flexing before it relaxed in yours. You soothed his knuckles with your thumb, anchoring him to the spot with you.

You swallowed, “Come to bed.” You said quietly, watching as his face moved through a myriad of emotions. 

Shock, confusion, anger, and then finally, disgust.

“You think I want to f-“

“-No!” You said loudly, realising the accidental implication, before you lowed your voice again, “No. No, I- Just lay with me. Nothing else. I-“ You swallowed, “I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

Aemond blinked at you softly, his face falling, “I’m always alone.” He whispered.

Your heart tugged in your chest. 

You squeezed his hand gently, “You don’t need to be.”

The air around you shifted, Aemond staring down at you as you held his hand in the dark of the kitchen, unspoken words floating around the two of you. But in that moment, you didn’t need to say a thing.

Aemond nodded his head down at you, almost imperceptible, and your heart thumped in your chest as you led him towards your bedroom in the dark, not letting go of him until you pulled the sheets back and crawled in first, urging him to climb in after you.

If it was not for the sadness that permeated around the two of you, you would have laughed at how large Aemond was in your bed, taking up most of one side as he was on. He lay flat on his back, crossing his hand over his chest, unsure of what to do. 

You took initiative and curled up against him, lifting one of his arms over your shoulder as you settled into the heat of his side. You let one hand rest against his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he breathed quietly.

Aemond was stiff, unsure, uncertain, as you laid against him, lifting your hand from your chest to brush through his hair, an attempt to soothe the man with gentle strokes and repetition. You wondered briefly if Alys ever comforted him like this after their fights. After her infidelity.

You then wondered with a stray thought, if Aemond had ever been comforted ever in his life. 

His hair was silky against your palm and fingers as you brushed your hand through it, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. You heard him breathe deeply, a small groan falling from his lips, the tension in his body slowly leaking from him. 

You repeated the motion over and over, and eventually Aemond softened, his head tilting towards you in the dark of the room. Although you could scarcely see his gaze, you knew that he was watching you, only small pieces of light from the moon coming through the cracks of your curtains. 

Heat rolled over you as you felt him observing you. 

Aemond shifted in your sheets, hand coming to reach for yours in his hair, long fingers wrapping themselves around yours warmly, calloused palm rubbing over the top of your hand delicately. 

With your hand in his, he brought it away from his silver tendrils, dragging it down slowly as he looked at you in the dark, moonlight shrouded over his body, just barely illuminating him as his lips parted, pressing a kiss into the palm of your hand. Your breath stilled in your throat as he did it again, tenderly, softly, reverently, before his mouth slid upwards, bottom lip dragging against your skin, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

Aemond pressed another gentle kiss to the tips of your fingers, a bare breath of air puffing over the digits as he tilted his head, pressing another to your inner wrist, right above your pulse point. You wondered momentarily if he felt the way your pulse quickened, blood thumping in your veins against his plump lips. 

It wasn’t long until he dragged your fingertips back to his mouth, but this time, instead of the cautious and soothing kiss he had placed there before, his teeth now nipped at the pad of your pointer slowly. Not sharply with unconfined lust, but rather as if he was testing the waters, and when no argument came from your lips, nor objection to his indication to his now aroused state, Aemond leant forward towards your face, still holding your hand in his. 

His lips met the corner of your mouth, barely there, yet full of yearning. You tilted your head upwards, to give him access to you, to which he pressed a softer kiss squarely upon your lips. You felt him breathe out through his nose in a shudder, your eyes slipping closed, not that you could see much anyway, as you kissed him back, cautious, curious, letting him set the pace.

There was no rush in the way he held you, sliding your body towards him with a large palm, hand spread against your ribs and waist, fingers ever so often tensing as he began to slowly deepen the kiss. But this was different to your previous times kissing Aemond. There was no malice, no rush, no anger simmering beneath the surface with resentment and confusion of the dynamic between the two of you. 

These kisses that he pressed against your lips were slow, sensual, as though time had stopped for the two of you, and it spoke multitudes that Aemond was content to just bask in the warmth that spread between the two of you, his hand still holding yours, thumb pressed into your palm like a pressure point. 

It was a side of him you had never seen before.

And you were content to leave it at that, to just hold him and kiss him in a way that he clearly needed in that moment, not wanting to move it forward, nor push either of you to go to someplace that the previous conversation in the kitchen would deter you from. But Aemond was not as content as you had thought he was. 

His hand slid down your side, moving to cup under your ass as he dragged a leg over his side, nestling his hips between yours. You whimpered softly into his mouth as you felt his hardened length brush against your inner thigh. 

Aemond taking this as the permission he needed, began to grind up against you, lips chasing yours lazily, keeping the same slow rhythm as before, matching the pace of his hips as he ground up against you, small gasp falling into your mouth from his as his hips stuttered.

He skimmed his hand from your thigh up your body, never breaking away from your embrace as he explored your body slowly, making your body out with careful precision. Each drag of his finger over your curves stored into the back of his mind for later. 

Over the top of your sleep shirt his hand found your breast, hot air puffed through his nose as he squeezed, a mewl dripped hotly from your lips as you arched your chest into his hand.

He twinged a nipple between fingers, sending sparks through your body straight to your core, your leg dragging his hips closer to your heat as you bucked up into him, wetness pooling into your sleep shorts. 

A hand slid itself underneath your shirt, feeling the away your stomach clenched beneath it as it moved upwards, finally resting over your chest. He splayed his fingers across your skin, feeling your heart race beneath his palm. 

Your cheeks were heated, and Aemond finally broke away from the tender kiss that you had been sharing. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking to adjust in the darkness as you breathed shallowly, looking at him. 

The air around you was static, and you got the sudden urge to pull back, to retreat, that this was too intimate, that you were showing too much of your hand to him, too much of yourself to him and what you truly desired.

As if sensing your sudden caution, the hand that held yours dragged itself down his own chest, his lips pressing into the corner of your lips before he settled your hand under his own shirt and above where his heart was. 

Beneath your palm, you felt the same erratic heartbeat that was racing through your own chest, but this time, in his. Your fingers tightened against his skin, feeling bone and muscle, and a light dusting of hair beneath, but under all of that was the undeniable truth that Aemond wanted this just as much as you did. 

Bringing your lips back to his you kissed him, both of your hands staying above each others chests warmly as you rolled your hips into his, a soft grunt coming from deep within Aemond throat. 

With slow hands, Aemond took off your pants, aiding by your own hands as you slid them down your legs, kicking them to the bottom of the bed sheets where they were lost and would be found later. He then shifted, breaking away from the embrace as he took off his own pants, followed by his shirt, awkward movements jolting the bed that you would have normally giggled at if it wasn’t for the sincerity of it all. 

And then you were back together, skin pressed against skin and anticipation buzzing through you like electricity. He held your jaw in both of his hands as he dragged you back to him, one hands fingers curling into your hair at the nape of your neck. 

You were lost to his touch, growing dizzy from desire as he dragged your leg over his hip once more, slotting his hips against you. You felt his hard length brush against your folds, your chest pressing into him as you breathlessly whined into his mouth. Your hands slipped around his shoulders as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Aemond tilted his head, resting his forehead against yours. 

Hot air puffed against your lips as he whispered, “Is this okay?”

You nodded, capturing his lips with yours once again as he took a hand to drag between the two of you, parting your folds in test to see if you were wet enough, and also to help guide his length blindly to your sopping centre. 

Aemond pushed into you with one long and slow thrust, a sharp inhale sucked into the both of your chests, mouths opened as you paused from your kiss, lips still brushing against each other as you felt his length fill you completely.

His cock stretched you out thickly, his chest brushing against yours with every restrained breath he took. 

Blood rushed in your ears, your pulse quickening as he pulled back, dragging his cock through your folds before back up inside of you. Your leg over his hip dragged higher as you pulled him closer, giving him a better angle to reach deeper within you. 

The tip of his length brushed over every inch within you, a dreamy sigh falling from your lips as you nipped at Aemond’s mouth. He repeated the motion, slowly pushing his hips up into yours before dragging them backwards, leaving just his tip inside of you before he would plunge back inside. 

You both pulled away from your kiss, foreheads pressed against each other as you breathed and whined, emotion pouring from him, his shoulders still tensed beneath your arms. 

You tried to soothe him, running your fingers along the nape of his neck experimentally pressing into the thick cords of muscle at the back, at times rewarded by a small mewl from him before you settled to just tug lightly at his hair.

His thrusts never sped up, keeping the same restrained pace as heat bloomed in your stomach.

All that could be heard was the wet of your folds as he dragged himself through them and the pleasure that sang from the both of your lips. 

The coil within you began to wind, and following his actions from earlier, you pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Aemond’s hips stuttered, and as he fucked into you sensually, all emotion and passion. You could feel the sadness that permeated from him, that creeped under his skin and into yours with every thrust or breathy whine. Your heart ached as you felt it, but you knew that this was what he wanted. That this was how he wanted to be comforted, that this was what he had chosen, and so you praised him as he sought his pleasure, and aimed to bring you to yours. 

“So good.” You gasped against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his plump and bitten raw lips as you carded your hands through his hair softly, “Making me feel so good.”

A low whine escaped his chest, and you felt his length within you throb. 

Your own coil was increasingly winding with every shift of his hips, every drag of his cock against the pleasurable spots within you, and the meeting of the soft dusting of curls at the base of his cock that brushed against your bud with every thrust. 

“You feel so good, Aemond.” You praised huskily, cupping a cheek in your hand as you felt his thrusts finally begin to quicken, their steady pace crumbling from your praise and his nearing release. 

His lips crashed into yours, desperate groan rumbling in his chest as a hand moved to wrap itself under your ass, pulling you closer, length pressing inside of you to its limit, spreading you wider apart on his length as he plunged inside. 

The shift caused sparks to erupt in your gut, “‘M close.” You softly whimpered, “Want you to cum.” Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, his forehead pressed to your own as he quickened his pace.

“Please.” He trembled in your arms, hand splayed on the globe of your ass gripping the flesh tighter. 

But no matter how close he got to his peak, he didn’t push himself over the edge and you could feel it. 

He was waiting for you. 

Waiting for your encouragement, waiting for your pleasure. But in that moment, you knew that Aemond needed it more than you. You would give him the permission he needed to hear.

“Let go.”

Aemond came with a shattered cry, hips stuttering into yours as he rode out his release, hot ropes of warmth flooding your core as you cooed him softly, brushing hair away from his forehead as you kissed his scarred cheek.

“So good.” You cooed quietly, “So beautiful.”

His body rippled as he pushed himself to his limit, hips pressed snugly against yours as he puffed breaths of hot air against your cheek. His head dipped down to where your neck meets your shoulder, stomach intermittently clenching at the aftershocks, your wet warmth still gripping him tightly.

Your heart raced in your chest as Aemond pressed lips to the junction of neck and shoulder, kissing softly, air puffing against your skin from his nose. You dragged your hands up and down his back soothingly, feeling goosebumps erupt from his skin, a soft whine pressed into your shoulder. 

His cock twitched inside of you, causing a breathless sigh to fall from your lips, pleasure still settled within you. Aemond’s head lifted from the crux of your neck, eye finding yours in the darkness. 

“You didn’t finish.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. 

You chuckled softly, careful to make it known that you weren’t laughing at him, “I don’t need to.”

His brows furrowed at you, and you smoothed at them with a thumb. 

Aemond shifted, dragging his length from within you, mewling whimper escaping your lips as every vein and ridge dragged through your walls deliciously. But instead of Aemond pulling out, he pushed right back inside, fire erupting over your skin as your breath hitched. 

He bit his lip, overstimulated but wanting to bring you to your peak as he slowly fucked into you again, dragging his tip over the soft spongey spot inside of you with precision. He pushed all the way in to the hilt, his tip pressing into your cervix as you moaned desperately, fingers digging into the skin of his back as you gripped him to you. 

You could feel his spend dripping out of you, stickiness coating your thighs and his sack which were pressed against you tightly. 

Aemond dragged a hand down your body disappearing between your thighs as he gathered some of his cum up to your clit, swirling his thumb around it softly in circles. You moaned softly, breasts pressing into his chest as he held you to him, not moving his cock, but using it to keep you full of him, feeling your walls twitch and spasm around him as he brought you to your peak with a sudden cry. 

Your walls gripped him tightly as he hissed, slowing his thumbs movements to drag you through your release until you whined that it was too much.

Your body felt like jelly, unable to move, content to just lay in his arms, cock softening inside of you. 

And so that’s what you did. 

Neither of you uttering a word as to what had just happened, nor a whisper of what had been said, both laid in the dark, legs intertwined, the warm glow of your peaks settling over you as your hearts raced within your chests.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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#aemond x reader #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond #roommate!Au #roommates #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd modern au #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #Modern!Aemond x reader #new miniseries #asumofwords #aemond targaryen x y/n #the sublet a sum of words #the sublet #fanfic #hotdfanfic #aemondfanfic #aemond smut

[kryptonitejelly]

nick amaro x reader // law and order SVU

yes, we are going there - what have i done 😭 no plot, really. just a moment.

-

The last thing Nick had expected to find when walking back into the SVU bullpen was you; and yet, here he was, eyes fixed on you as his strides quickened. He notices Fin’s smirk that finds itself aimed his way as he weaves his way between Amanda and Liv to get to you, but he ignores it.

He lets his gaze drag itself over your form, head down on his desk, the lamp on his desk casting a soft glow around your features; the extra suit jacket he leaves hanging on the back of his chair draped over your shoulders. You have a laptop open in front of you, a case file and note pad within reach, all topped off by an uncapped pen lying caged between your curled fingers. He sees the pair of heels which you had shed, one standing, one lying on its side peeking out from under his desk. A dip of his gaze reveals the deep green of the dress which you had on, one of his favourite dresses on you - one that he knew you had worn in to work today in anticipation of Friday having supposed to be date night.

Nick slows his pace as he approaches you, content in the few seconds to allow himself to watch the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders. The sight stirs a mix of emotions in his chest - the swell of emotion that came rushing in whenever he set his eyes on you, and a heavy tinge of guilt. Guilt that he had to cancel the first date night you both had managed to plan after weeks of clashing schedules, guilt that you taken it so well, and guilt that you had somehow found your way here, to the SVU bullpen so that you could both head home together.

Nick drops to a knee, bringing himself to eye level with your face. He raises his hand to cup the side of your face gently. His touch on your skin is light, soft, but it makes you stir immediately.

“Hey,” Nick’s voice grounds you as you let your mind grind to a start, your surroundings shifting into focus. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought we could go home together,” your lips furl up into a gentle smile, voice soft, your eyes, still hazy with sleep, locked onto Nick’s. You forget your bearings for a moment until you hear a cough from behind Nick as various footsteps shuffle into the bullpen. You straighten up slowly, blinking the sleep from your eyes, legs stretching out beneath you as you offer a wave to the rest of the team trudging in.

“An ADA slumming it at Amaro’s desk?” Fin muses, voice joking and light.

“What would Barba say,” Munch follows, expression deadpan.

“Unbecoming isn’t it?” Liv continues with a quirk of one end of her lip.

“What can I say,” you play along, “not all of us have Barba’s flair.”

“Clearly,” Amanda states, looking pointedly at Nick which earns a series of chuckles from the rest of the team and yourself.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick waves a hand in the air dismissively, but his gaze doesn’t leave you. You tilt your body downward slightly, hands reaching for your discarded heels. Nick notices and he is back on a knee in one fluid motion.

“Nick,” you protest as he places a hand along your calf, his other propping your heel up, helping you back into your heels. You hazard a glance behind your boyfriend, only to find the rest of the team, tactfully busying themselves with their desks. “I’m not Cinderalla,” you state, but with no real protest as you let him guide your other heel back on.

“I’m not your Prince Charming?” He teases, not caring who else heard, giving your calf a gentle squeeze before winking at you and straightening back into a stand.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” you pull a face as you turn to gather your belongings, making quick work of shoving them into your bag with Nick’s help.

“Way to hurt a man,” he places a hand on his chest as you shrug his spare jacket off your shoulders; Nick takes it from you, hanging it back on his chair.

“She could hurt you more” Fin cuts in again with a sing-song voice. It makes you chuckle, as you catch a wink Amanda throws in your direction.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be Detective Tutuola,” Nick asks all while shrugging off the jacket on his shoulders to place it over yours, letting it hang off your frame. He flicks off the light switch on his desk and picks your bag up.

“If I say no, will you let me tag along?”

Your yes comes at the same time as Nick’s absolutely not, and it earns you another series of chuckles around the room.

“Don’t call me till Monday,” Nick calls out, while threading his fingers through yours as he starts to guide you towards the lift. You barely manage to call out a goodbye, before the lift doors shut on you both.

“I didn’t-” your protest is cut short by Nick’s lips on yours, his free hand circling your waist, going over the fabric of his jacket on your shoulders. You let yourself sink into the kiss, hand sliding up his shoulder and behind his neck as the lift descends to the parking garage.

“I’m sorry I had to cancel today,” he says, forehead resting against yours as he breaks the kiss. His eyes are closed, but you flicker yours open as you run your hand from the back of his neck to cup the side of his jaw.

“You have nothing to apologise for Detective Amaro,” you end with the professional term of address in attempt to diffuse some of the guilt you see in his eyes. “Work,” you continue with a light shrug - Nick was a victim of you cancelling on him as well, and you understood.

“I was really looking forward to tonight,” he says, still apologetic as he finally opens his eyes while leaning his face into your palm.

“I can think of a few ways you can spend the rest of the weekend making it up to me,” you say, dropping your voice to a lower, almost sultry tone as you lean into him, pressing the front of your body into his. Nick responds by pulling you in closer, his hand dipping down the hem of his jacket on your shoulders to slide down onto the curve of your ass.

“Take me home Detective Amaro,” you say as the lift door dings open.

“Your wish is my command,” Nick says in response, taking the opportunity to sear another quick kiss onto your lips before tugging you out of the lift.

#law and order svu #nick amaro #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x you #nick amaro x y/n #nick amaro fic #nick amaron imagine #nick amaro fanfic #detective amaro #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fic #law and order svu fanfic #nick amaro reader insert #law and order svu reader insert #amaro #amaro x you #amaro x reader #amaro x y/n #not cm #not tg #law and order svu drabble #law and order svu one shot #nick amaro drabble #nick amaro fluff #nick amaro one shot

[therandomficwriter]

Crossing All The Lines

Who: Aaron Hotchner

What: Reader has feelings for Aaron and dances around them with quick glances when you think he’s not looking. Then reader gets hurt and accidentally confesses in the heat of the moment.

Request: Nope

Warnings: Typical canon criminal minds violence, talks of getting shot, blood, Slight age gap but otherwise age isn’t mentioned, etc. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/n: I know its been forever since I've written anything but I’m back into my criminal minds binge and currently have Hotch brain rot so yeah,,, n e ways please feel free to enjoy! A/n 2: Ngl I've been working on this one since June of 2023 and barely finished it now (Feb. 2024) so this was a loooooong wip but besides that i really hope you guys like it!

You guys have been going at it for hours now. The sun had set long ago and many of the officers have gone home, the new shift well settled into their stations.

Despite the amount of time you and the team had spent trying to get to the bottom of the unsub’s reasoning, which would bring you guys one step closer to finding out who it might be, you are no closer to figuring it out now than this morning.

Reid is going off on another one of his tangents and you are trying desperately to pay attention and keep your mind from wandering, the late hour not helping you much.

Everyone is in a different form of concentration but, none the less, in a similar state of exhaustion. Morgan is slouched in his chair, head in his hand, Rossi on his fourth, maybe fifth, cup of coffee, but there’s one person you can’t help but let your eyes wander towards.

Hotch stands at the head of the table, arms crossed on his chest, tiredness prominent in his features. Your eyes follow him as he moves across the room, removing his suit jacket and discarding it onto a chair. Moving back to his original spot, he rolls his sleeves slightly up to rest upon his forearms, then loosens his tie ever so slightly.

He leans over the table and opens his mouth to begin talking but, if you are being honest, not a single word is heard by you. Your eyes stay glued to his arm, his muscles flexing slightly from the way he is gripping the edge of the table.

You try to pay attention, really you do, but it is no use. Your sleep deprived brain is not allowing you to focus on anything but the man in front of you. If you are being honest, you have grown feelings for him but you don’t dare act on them. I mean how can you blame yourself? There is just so much you admire about him, you can possibly go on for hours just listing off the reasons.

As your mind seems to drift off, you don’t seem to notice Hotch has caught on to what you were doing.

Feeling eyes on him, he glances around the room and soon catches your eye. Upon meeting his eyes, yours slightly widen and you quickly look down, willing your face to not heat up at being caught with your shameless stares. You swear at yourself thinking if he brings it up you’d blame it on the late hour and lack of proper sleep.

Unknown to you Hotch’s lips quirk up, amused at your reaction to being caught, chuckling softly to himself. He looks around the room once again, taking note of the tired faces of his team and decides to speak up.

“All right team, let’s call it a night. We’ll pick this back up in the morning when we’re all rested. Maybe then we will be able to think about this more clearly.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, the team quickly gathers their belongings and heads out of the station towards their shared vehicles.

The ride back to the hotel was uneventful as everyone split off into groups between the two SUVs. You opted to ride with Hotch and Rossi taking advantage of their silent personas, definitely not because you favored the first of the two.

Taking your place behind the passenger seat, you quickly got as comfortable as possible on your way back to the hotel. Usually you would try to fill in the silence with different topics varying from the case you guys were currently investigating to what book you were reading at the moment, but right now you could barely form coherent sentences with your sleep deprived mind.

You could feel yourself slowly drifting off, the smooth ride and the sound of the car moving along the street help bring you into a deep slumber.

Unbeknownst to you a pair of eyes traveled across your sleeping form, glancing back and forth between you and the road. A small sigh escapes his mouth as he notices your breathing even out.

Hearing someone clear their throat, Hotch casts his eyes toward the passenger seat where Rossi is sitting with a knowing look on his face. His eyes turn back to the road.

"Dave..." he says quietly, tone coming out as a warning.

Rossi raises his hands in defense, keeping his voice down as well "I didn't say anything."

"I know that look. You have something you want to say," Hotch mutters, face annoyed.

"Aaron in know that look on your face. How long are you planning on keeping her in the dark? You deserve to be happy and I can tell she is the reason your mood has improved a lot lately," Rossi keeps his voice low as to not wake you up.

Hotch moves his eyes towards you one more time, taking in your features, he notices the slightest content smile on your face not having a worry in the world while sleeping. He lets out a deep sigh eyes leaving your figure and focusing completely on the road.

"Because I am her boss and she is my subordinate. I can not cross that line even if i wanted to. I can only imagine what the higher ups would say if they found out."

"Besides she deserves someone better, someone closer to her age, someone her could provide her with everything she could want or need. Why would she want someone like me," he finished off.

Rossi shook his head, "You, my friend, are completely clueless. How could she not want to be with you? Have you seen the way she looks at you? And don't give me that B.S. about your status as her boss, as if that matters. Trust me Aaron, that girl would follow you through hell and back if you asked her and i know you would do just the same."

Hotch let Rossi's words sink in. He kept his head forward, choosing not to reply in order to completely shut down this conversation, not wanting to get his hopes up too high.

Luckily the hotel quickly came into view and Hotch felt himself relax slightly. As soon as the suvs were parked everyone got off and split up and made their separate ways into their hotel rooms. Getting off, Hotch made his way to the back passanger side to wake you and send you off to sleep in your room.

He got to his own room, going through his normal night time routine before slipping into bed. Despite the late hour and lack of proper sleep the night before, his mind seemed to run non stop. It wasn't the unresolved case or fact that the unsubs motive was hard to pinpoint.

No, his mind seemed to be full of you. The conversation with Rossi seemed to have kickstarted his thoughts into a spiral. Eventually he drifted off to sleep his final thought of you and what he believes could never be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually you and the team had finally managed to find the link between the victims and his motive became clear. Richard Cornwall, a local who lives in the outskirts of town on his family ranch had been taking the victims and making them weaken enough to use in his own version of "hunting."

The evidence pointed to you all that he was a narcissist that believed he was too good at hunting the local game that it no longer was fun to him. So he thought that using real people would provide more of a challenge, that way he could really prove he was the best and what he did.

Currently on route to the Cornwall family ranch, y'all prepared yourselves. It was common knowledge that he was a hunter so you knew he had to have a surplus of weapons as well as being on the look out for and traps he might have left around the property.

Parking the suvs in front of the main house, you split up to survey the property looking for Cornwall and the latest person he had kidnapped.

While the rest of the team searched the two story house, you, Hotch, and Reid had taken the left side of the property going straight towards the barn, stalls, and the field. You noticed a deer blind a little ways away in the field making a mental note to take a sweep of it after checking out the barn.

After clearing the stalls, you guys made your way though the barn with no signs of Cornwall or the victim. Reid noticed a corner of the barn that seemed to be where he left the vicitms to bleed out. The deep red was splattered on the walls and completely covered the floor. Hotch took note of it saying he would get forensics to take samples of it.

As you guys began to exit the barn after clearing it you turned your head towards Hotch and Reid to tell them about the structure you saw in the middle of the field. As soon as you opened your mouth, the sound of a gun shot rang though the air.

You were down within a second, the shot hitting you right in your left shoulder causing you to let out a scream, your other hand reaching out to hold onto the wound. You began to feel lightheaded, the blood coming from your shoulder seemed to be never ending.

Hotch and Reid quickly crouched down taking cover in the barn as another shot rang out. They each grabbed one of your arms pulling you inside to safety with them. The yell you let out was worse than anything Hotch had heard, he could only imagine the pain you were feeling right now.

He radioed the rest of the team and the rest of the officers to let them know to be on the lookout notifying them you were currently down. They only know the general direction the shot came from, not too sure where Cornwall was.

"The blind" you let out weakly.

Reid spotted the deer blind a little ways out in the field and let everyone else know the location so they could proceed with caution.

You on the other hand, felt like you would pass out any second now. You felt like you were on fire, your shoulder growing heavier by the second. Soon your vision started getting spotty, white dots littered your sight as you tried to blink them away, tears streamed down your face from the pain.

Hotch turned to look at you to make sure you were alright but quickly noticed the flushed look on your face, your lips were pale, a sign you were soon to faint.

"Hey, L/N, look at me. You need to stay awake for me." he urged, shaking your head a bit to stimulate you.

The sound of his voice was coming in and out, growing louder then getting harder to hear, your ears no longer wanting to work. You blinked a bit trying to focus on him and what he was currently saying to you.

"Y/N, you're losing a lot of blood, they might have to do a blood transfusion at the hospital," he ushers out, desperation evident in his voice, "What is your type?"

In your current state, you tried hard to process what he was asking you. You vision was quickly growing worse and it was getting harder to hear him. You let out the first thing that came to your mind.

"You."

The last thing you heard was JJ's voice over the coms informing they had got unsub in custody and finally found the last victim who was luckily alive. Black soon consumed your vision and you were out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The feeling of the ground rumbling beneath you was the first hint to you that you were slowly gaining consciousness.

Soon the low sounds of a siren could be heard, slightly muffled to you. You tried desperately to open your eyes but you couldn’t find the strength. But you could feel a weight in your hand and you tried to flex your hand, your fingers twitching slightly.

At that you could have sworn you heard what sounded like your name. You tried to focus your hearing a bit more.

“Y/N,” you heard a man say.

You know that voice. You’ve heard it before somewhere. The sound of it seemed to make you calmer. At the sound of his voice again you tried once more to open your eyes.

A blinding light above you is the first thing you see, yet everything still seemed to be foggy. You glance at you surroundings, your eyes barely open a crack. That is when you see him.

He looked absolutely ethereal, you could’ve sworn he was an angel here on earth. The bright glow from the lights casted a halo around him. But there’s no way he could be here right now. He opens his mouth to speak again.

“Y/N, are you alright? Do you need anything? We are heading to the hospital right now, we should be there any moment.”

You stared at him for what seemed like forever just taking him in. His sentence went in one ear and out the other, as if he never said anything to begin with, as if he wasn’t even then, a mere figment of your imagination. You couldn’t wrap your head around what was going on or where you were. The only thing you could say was what you were currently thinking.

“I dream of you so often, I don’t know if you’re even real.”

And with that you felt yourself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness. The sound of that man’s voice imbedded deep in your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A low beeping lulled you out of your unconscious state. Your eyelids felt heavy, as if they were made of concrete, not allowing you to open them just yet. You stayed there unmoving, trying to get accustomed to your surroundings, willing yourself to try and feel anything around you.

You could feel the soft pillow underneath your head and the, somewhat, stiff bed underneath you. In your head, you knew your were laying in a bed somewhere, but for the life of you, you could not recall a single thing that happened to you or where you could possibly be at this moment.

Racking your brain, you tried desperately to remember what was going on. The last thing you remembered was that you and the team had a case you were working on. Where was it? Oh, right, you guys were currently in Texas. The unsub was a fisherman? No, wait, a hunter.

As you started to recall more and more of the case it all started to come back to you. You, Hotch, and Reid were searching the barn. That's right, you were right on his trail and then... he shot you.

'Wait Hotch, Reid, are they alright?'

Your eyes suddenly shot open at the thought of your friends hurt. Wincing at the sudden bright light around you, you blinking trying to get used to the sight around you.

At the same time, all your senses rushed back to you all at once. you could hear that constant beeping again but this time a little louder. Looking towards your right, you noticed the heart monitor displaying your heart rate. You stared at it for a little bit and watched the line move at a rhythmic pace before you realized that your left hand felt a bit heavier that usual.

Your fingers twitched, slowly flexing, trying to grasp at what was resting in your hand. You turn your head slightly, glancing down at your hand, only to notice another hand placed over yours.

Eyes widening at the slight, you move them from the hand, up the arm and towards the person it belonged to. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.

In the chair next to you, Hotch was leaned back into the chair. His left arm was slung over his abdomen and his right arm was stretched out resting on the side of your hospital bed, hand intwined with yours.

He look so peaceful in his sleep, which was a stark contrast to his usual stoic expression, despite the slight furrow in his brows. How he managed to look so comfortable in that hard plastic chair was beyond you, but you were sure that the exhaustion of the events the night before finally caught up to him.

You watched him for a while, your heart strings pulling at the thought of him so worried about you that he actually slept in that uncomfortable chair all night when he had a nice warm bed back at the hotel you guys were staying at.

The sounds of someone clearing their throat pulled you from your thoughts, as you glance towards the doorway where the sound came from. Rossi stood there leaning against the door frame, a knowing smile gracing his features.

Feeling the heat rise to your face, your eyes dart away from Rossi and down at the blankets the covered you. David knew of the feelings you harbored towards the man to your left, having caught you staring at him a little longer that usual a couple of times. He soon got the truth out of you after a night of drinking, to which you spilled your heart out to the older man in hopes of getting advice from someone that knew Hotch inside and out.

"How you feeling kiddo?"

Hearing his question spoken softly, you glance back up at him and clear your throat feeling it dry from not speaking for hours on end.

"Alright. Just a little sore I guess," you rasp out quietly.

He raises his eyebrow, "A little? Kid you got shot with a rifle, I don't blame you if you said you it hurts like hell, which I'm pretty sure it does."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," you chuckle softly at his words before glancing back down.

You can't help but let your eyes travel back to where your hand was intwined with Hotch's, letting out a little sigh. Rossi's eyes follow yours, then travel up to where his friend slept soundly.

"You know," he starts with a small smile, "he was really worried about you kid. He's been with you since the ambulance pulled up. He refused to leave your side and even rode with you the whole way over here. We even had a hard time trying to get him to go shower or even change. He insisted that he had to be here when you woke up."

You shift your focus up to Hotch's face, taking in the words Rossi was saying, heart melting at the thought. Your mind raced at the implications of what this all meant but you quickly shut them down, not wanting to get your hopes up.

"I'm sure he would've been the same if it were any one of us," you replied, shoulders slumping a bit at the thought.

David rolled his eyes at your words, "You know what I mean Y/N. Sure he would've been worried if it happened to any of us, but I doubt he would be sleeping if those god awful chairs all night if it wasn't for you."

At that you could feel the hand in yours start to twitch, Hotch moving slightly as he began to wake up. Your breath caught in your throat as his eyes started to flutter open. The first thing Aaron saw as he fully woke up was Rossi standing in the doorway staring right at him.

"Dave? What are you doing here?"

Rossi chuckles softly, shaking his head as he pushes himself away from the door frame to stand up straight.

"Oh nothing, figured I should probably go get a bite to eat and maybe a cup of coffee. It seems like you guys have a lot to talk about," he finishes, nudging his head in your direction.

The look of confusion quickly washes away from Hotch's face as his head snaps in your direction. He takes in the sight of you wide awake, a slight flush on your cheeks that he assumes is because of your injury. He could feel your hand flutter underneath his as he glances down at it. The sight of your hand wrapped with his causes his heart to skip a beat, the moment it resumes he swears he can hear it pounding in his ears.

Rossi clears his throat once more gaining the attention of the two, "Well I better be off, let me know if either of you want something. I hope you feel better kiddo."

You let out a small 'thank you' and he smiles at you then sends Aaron a knowing glance when you aren't looking before turning and making his way out. You both sat there in silence, not knowing what to say to each other.

"How are you feeling?" Hotch finally asks, breaking the silence between you.

"Honestly, I've been better," you let out a little chuckle, trying to ease the tension, before turning solum again remembering your current state.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I should've know better, if only I-"

Hotch cuts you off with a reassuring squeeze to your hand.

"Don't," he says firmly, "Don't you ever blame yourself for something that is out of your control. You did all you could and your observations helped us catch the unsub and the last victim was found alive."

"I know, but I just feel bad cause you had to sleep on that," you say, gesturing towards the chair he was sitting on.

He lips quirk up ever so slightly, "Don't worry about it, I should be used to it now because of all the late nights I spend at the office. Besides, I wanted to. I wouldn't do this for just anyone," he says, starting to gain the courage to tell you what is on his mind.

"Hotch-" you start, only to be cut off by him.

"Wait, just let me say this," he holds his hand up. you nod encouraging him to continue.

"Y/N, you are the bravest person I know, not to mention the most caring and thoughtful. You always tend to put others first, but are still able to stand up for yourself and voice your needs. I admire so much about you that I could possibly go on forever. What made me fall for you is beyond me, but I know what I'm feeling is real. I kept telling myself that I shouldn't love you, that I shouldn't cross that boundry, but its not as simple as it sounds. No matter how hard I tried, you made me fall harder and faster without doing much," he sighed, "Even if you don't feel the same, i just needed to tell you."

At the end of his speech your eyes were shining with unshed tears. Never have you heard anything as sweet and poetic as that. You could feel every one of his words in your soul as if he was speaking right to it. He had put his heart on his sleeve for you and you thought it was only fair you did the same.

"Aaron, when I first met you I thought you were just a cold, stoic, blunt man,"

Hotch could've sworn he felt his heart ache at the words leaving your mouth, but that soon changed as you continued.

"But, then I met you and learn a lot about you. You actually had a similar sense of humor as me and know how to dish out a joke as well as take one. Your wit is one of the things that surprised me the most about you. Not to mention that you protect the ones you care about with your life. You come off as nonchalant when in fact you care so much about each and every one of us on this team. And despite what you think, you're the best dad Jack could ever ask for. You really are his hero and I don't blame him. You say you admire me but, oh boy, you have no idea how much about you I cherish and appreciate."

"At first I thought it was nothing more than just a silly little crush, but it turned into so much more than that. I couldn't stop thinking about you no matter how hard I tried, it happened without me even realizing it. You are the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning and the last thought I have before I drift off to sleep at night, its like you're all that's in my mind. My heart has yearned for you longer than I knew it myself and now that I know that its not just me, I'm willing to cross that line as long as you're there with me," you finished giving his hand a loving squeeze.

Aaron stared at you with loving eyes and you could've sworn your heart stopped at the sight. You looked at him shyly with the newfound revelation of your feelings towards each other being mutual. You could feel yourself slowly leaning towards him and him doing just the same.

As the distance between you grew shorter and shorter, you both were stealing glances at each others' lips. Just as you were about to close the distance, a sharp pain shot right through your shoulder causing you to wince and pull back.

Hotch looked at you with worry helping you lean back into the hospital bed. His eyes scanned your face for any traces of discomfort as you got situated back into place. Your eyes met as if he was ask you a silent question, you nodded letting him know you were fine as he sighed in relief.

Chuckling a bit a the situation, he shook his head slightly before leaning down and placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

"Let's wait till you get out of here for that," he smirks, "Besides I need to treat you out to a nice dinner before we could have some dessert" he finished with a swift kiss to the knuckles of your hand that was still interlocked with his.

You couldn't help the heat that quickly rose to your face at his comment. Never, did you think Hotch could be that smooth. Rolling your eyes, you gently slap his arm causing him to laugh softly.

"You're so corny."

"Well you better get used to it cause you're stuck with me now," he replies with a smile.

You shake your head with a giggle, "Can I take that back?"

"Nope," he says, smile growing wider as a mischievous look glints in his eyes, "Besides you said I'm just your type."

The memory of what he was talking about quickly floods into your mind.

Your face flushes a deep shade of embarrassment and you quickly cover your face with your hands, "Oh my god!"

A/n: I really hope you guys liked it! It took me quite a bit to write but i really love the way it came out! I honestly think this is probably my favorite one I've written so far! Just to let y'all know i do have quite a bit planned out so be on the lookout for that and hopefully I'll be able to put out little thing here and there! Once again if y'all want to be added to the tag list the link is here ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ and just fill it out for whatever you want to be tagged for and if you don't know what I write for just checkout my masterlist or leave and ask and I will reply as soon as i can get to it!

Taglist: @uraveragegorewhore @drayshadow @wlfstxr @nikkitc0703 *The ones in red are the ones I couldn't tag so if you want to be added again or removed just fill out the form or comment on here!*

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #thomas gibson #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

[sundrop-writes]

Sundrop's DC Titans Masterlist

Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop) - Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut/PWP. Gar is stressed out about everyone else's problems, so you get him to de-stress the only way you know how (by riding his dick). (1,800 words.)

Shared Trauma - Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Angst. Gar is upset after having to kill someone for the first time, and you help distract him from the pain. (3,600 words.)

Miss Nectarine - Donna Troy x Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut. Stress has been eating at Donna since the old Titans came back 'home'. She finds the perfect way to relieve that stress when she accidentally walks in on you in a certain compromised situation. (2,600 words.)

The Girl Next Door - Hank Hall x Fem!Reader x Dawn Granger. Neighbours to Lovers. Smut. When you move in across the hall from Dawn and Hank, they immediately become protective of you. When you ask them for advice to help out in your sex life - things spin out of control in the best possible way. (5,600 words.)

Better Than Sleeping - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Jason comes to bother you one night when you're tired from training. It quickly turns into a battle of wills between the two of you. Eventually, much to your annoyance - he wins. (5,300 words.)

Dreaming Of You (Mini Series - Complete) - Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Having a direct window into someone’s mind is not as fun as everyone thinks it might be. You see and hear things that you might not want to. Or things you want to see very, very badly. But in your case, the problem was a delicate mixture of both. (31,300 words.) | Part One | Part Two | Series Masterlist |

Not A Good Time - Gar Logan x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. Seeing Gar fighting while on a mission makes you hot and bothered, and you can't wait to get him home. (2,000 words.)

Missing You - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd. Accidental Voyeurism. Smut. Gar calls Jason when he's feeling lonely, and accidentally catches you and his best friend in a very compromising situation. But he can't bring himself to hang up the call. (2,800 words.)

Emergency Contact - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst. Hurt and Comfort. (Slight Smut.) After Jason is kidnapped by Deathstroke, you help each other heal, even if he tries pushing you away at first. (10,400 words.)

Tongue Twister - Gar Logan x GN!Reader. Friends to FWB. Smut/PWP. In which you literally try to suck Gar's soul out through his dick. (And you might actually succeed.) (2,000 words.)

When Doves Cry - Jason Todd x Gar Logan. Friends to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Emotional Angst and Smut. After helping the Titans foil Crane's plan, Jason tries to leave forever. Gar has other plans. (11,100 words.)

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson - Series Masterlist

Season One - Episode One | Episode Two |

Your First Kiss With - Gar Logan | Dick Grayson | Jason Todd |

What would a first date with Gar Logan be like? (Headcanons)

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

Note: The rest of these link off to AO3, but I am hoping to have them edited and posted on Tumblr sometime soon.

Pretty Venom - Conner Luthor x Fem!Reader. Friends to Strangers to Lovers. Smut. When Mother Mayhem's magic messes with Conner's head, you find yourself confused, but intrigued - and then turned on. Conner takes advantage of that. (11,800 words.)

Glitter & Crimson - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader. Friends to ‘Lovers’. Smut. Conner is your ‘boyfriend’ - maybe. Either way, the two of you aren’t having sex, and you’re pent up. So when Gar offers you a golden opportunity to blow off steam, you don’t even consider how much it might be breaking his heart. (6,700 words.) (Prequel to the fic linked above.) 

Free Use Day - Poly!OG!Titans x Fem!Reader. Established Poly (Sexual) Relationship. Smut/PWP. You are a sex toy for the original Titans, and you love it. (14,300 words.) 

No Place Like Home - Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader x Jason Todd. Friends to Lovers. Angst and Smut with a Happy Ending. Jason leaves the Titans broken and battered, and gets set on a dangerous path, and it’s up to you and Gar to bring him home. (90,300 words.) (Series - Complete.) 

Steamy - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Rivals to Friends with Benefits. Smut/PWP. You and Jason compete in everything - including the difficult task of sharing a bathroom. Until one day, competing in petty things becomes a battle for dominance in other areas. (5,200 words.) 

Precious Time Alone - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. When the Titans split up, you and Gar get your first true moments alone in weeks. You take advantage of it, even if it ends in a bit of a strange disaster. (9,000 words.) 

Now You See Me - Gar Logan x Masc!Powered!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Smut. As soon as you meet Gar, you’re smitten with him. You’re used to people looking right through you - literally. But for once, Gar is someone who truly sees you for who you are, and he likes you. Every part of you. (6,900 words.) 

The Sweater Song - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut (with a Happy Ending). Songfic. Gar decides to leave Caulder House, and it breaks your heart. But you give him a token of your affection so that he won’t forget you, and eventually he does return home to you. (7,200 words.) 

Snow In Florida - Donna Troy x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Emotional Angst (Sexuality Crisis) and Smut (with a Happy Ending). You and Donna have been friends for as long as you can remember - but as you’re both maturing, your friendship shifts in a dangerous way. A birthday party, a nagging crush, a kiss - all of it leads you both down a beautiful and bitter path to your one true love. (30,300 words.) (Mini Series - Complete.) 

Don’t Say It - Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Emotional Angst. After Jason is kidnapped by Deathstroke, the Titans don’t have any sympathy for him. When they pile onto the weight he’s already carrying, he can’t take it anymore - and you task yourself with picking up the pieces before it’s too late. (11,300 words.) 

Yokai - Gar Logan x Masc!Japanese!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Gar visits your family’s Japanese restaurant often - it makes him feel normal, talking with someone who doesn’t secretly wear a cape. Plus he loves the food, and… he thinks you’re super cute. (6,400 words.)

#sundrop writes #masterlist #dc titans #gar logan x reader

[intriq]

hotch being jealous heheehehehe

HEHEHEHEHE YOU GOT IT POOKS

i also request that you all go check them out because their writing is just MMM CHEFS KISS

they also joined my beta reading team recently so >:)

Character: Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner

Theme: ??? Fluff???

Word Count: 658

Title: French Marigold

french marigold; jealousy

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

The case that the team had just finished took days. Took them days just to find and apprehend the suspect. A series of headaches and hours of lost sleep, pouring over file after file over what had been discovered to be a reawakening serial killer that had done a disgustingly good job at staying under the radar for years.

And what better way to celebrate apprehending the culprit other than going out for a few drinks the moment they landed back in Quantico? What better way to relieve the stress that had accumulated other than going out for a night on the town, drinking shitty liquor at a shitty bar?

Hotch had certainly thought it wouldn't be that bad of an idea. He wasn't the type to drink, not often at least. But he figured you could use the break, so he stuck around just for you. He figured he'd just stay sober and be the one to drive you both home.

What Hotch hadn't taken into account for, however, was that just an hour into this precious bit of time of freedom away from stress and catching killers, was one thing. Other people hitting on you, doting on you. Buying you drink after drink.

Hotch stares from where he sits with the others, drinking a water he was now wishing was something stronger as you wait for the next round of drinks. Reid is spouting some fact in his ear he can't be bothered to listen to, or it's something about his regular games of chess with Gideon. Morgan and Garcia are also talking, but it's nothing but mindless buzzing in Hotch's ear.

His focus is on you, entirely and utterly you. On the man that had the nerve to scoot a few seats down from where he originally was, body language displaying disgusting over-confidence. A narcissist, he thinks. Hotch can read him like an open-book from here, and he only has a view of him from behind.

Hotch watches as you push away what is probably the fifth drink that guy has ordered and offered you in the past thirty minutes. He doesn't understand what is taking so fucking long for the drinks you're waiting on to be done.

Narcissist. Over-confident. Die-hard momma's boy whose never been told no in his damn life.

Those are all things Hotch reads within seconds.

"Hotch, you okay?" Morgan asks, nudging him. But Hotch only responds with a curt "yeah, I'm fine" while his eyes remain locked on you. Not even glancing away to answer Morgan when he speaks. He says something to Hotch after that, but it's just white-noise. Hotch doesn't care enough to pay attention; not right at least.

Hotch is on his feet in seconds when he notices the slightest change in the guy's body language. That subtle shift that screams confidence that is soaring far too high for Hotch's liking.

By the time the guy's opening his mouth to ask for your number, Hotch is there. He's not one for PDA, but in this situation he'd give a whole fucking show if it meant he backed off. Which is why Hotch brings just one arm around your waist.

"I think it's time we go home," Hotch speaks, keeping his eyes focused on you. He's not gonna give the pathetic guy behind you even an ounce of his time, especially not when he seems so crest-fallen at how easily your attention is immediately on him. How enraptured you are by him.

You open your mouth to protest, but quickly have your words die in your throat when you see the look on Hotch's face. It's one you've never seen before, if you could correctly recall.

So you just agree with a quick nod, letting Hotch lead you out of the bar with a hand resting on your lower back. You let him drive you both home.

"What about everyone's drinks?"

"Someone else can handle that, I'm sure."

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n

[fictional-orphan-smackdown]

PINK VS. PINK, GO!

All propaganda and what each competitor is from under the cut

Miles Edgeworth (Ace Attorney)

The case in which his father died is the root of all the tragedy in the first 3 games. He even thinks he killed his father at first which is very sad and he has lasting trauma from the incident (his father died in an elevator during an earthquake. edgeworth is shown to panic and shut down during earthquakes or something similar like airplane turbulence and he avoids taking the elevator whenever possible)

Miles Edgeworth is the most repressed individual you'll ever meet. He is a chess player and everytime he has a chess board he puts the red pieces (him) cornering a blue piece (HIS RIVAL/THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE). He told the aforementioned rival his ex girlfriend died by telling him "her metabolic processes are concern of only historians". He dresses like a victorian child. He is a steel samurai fan. Almost christmas means it wasn't christmas

Sakuya Sakuma (A3!)

OUGH okay hello I’m gonna yell about my little guy here. Obviously he’s an orphan; parents died when he was really small, passed around to different family members, and BOY does it affect him. He’s not colossally depressed or anything but it does give him abandonment issues, a general sense of loneliness, and a latent fear that if he’s too sad or angry then he’ll get sent to live somewhere else. Even after he joins his live-in theater company, though he does start moving past it there. Despite all that, he always strives to be kind and caring and cheerful, yes in part because he felt like he had to be but also because he just generally is. He’s so very loved in the place he’s at to the point that a number of grown adults (he starts the series at 17!) openly admit that they look up to him. TRULY one of the characters ever I’m so incredibly normal about him

ok so i havent been caught up in years so forgive me if i get the details wrong but he's just a ball of sunshine despite all he's gone thru (multiple foster homes, never really feeling like he belonged anywhere). like he literally put his everything into acting because it was the only place he could go that wasn't back to a foster home (the company has dorms for the actors), to the point where he was doing "solo" shows (he had a bird as a supporting actor) just to bring in enough people to keep the acting company from shutting down completely. also it's the way that he FINALLY found a place to call home and people to call family and he was SO DESPERATE to hold onto that when his fellow troupe members threaten to leave (at least once for each of them for a minimum of 5, but only one at a time. u would think they would catch on at some point and not do that). also the sleepover cg in act 1 makes me feel like crying like they're finally on the same page and ready to work together and they look so comfortable and vulnerable with each other and it just AUGHH because they only did that after sakuya decided to sleep on the stage on his own and got caught by another troupe member who dragged in the rest of them too like hello?? crying

#poll #ace attorney #miles edgeworth #a3! #a3! act addict actors #sakuya sakuma

[kayesfanfics]

Being Partners in Crime With Striker

A/N: Just watched all of Helluva Boss after some convincing, and I am coming out as a HB fan but mostly a Striker Simp. Also, takes place during the Harvest Moon episode

Warnings: Cursing obviously, some sexual innuendos and content but not straight up smut

You were born in Wrath as well, growing up poor was hard and your family turned to crime to make a living. You were a bounty hunter and mercenary, working hard to bring in money for your family and put food on the table for them. Your parents were getting old and tired, you and your siblings ran the family farm and did illegal work for extra cash as well

You met Striker when you were both hired by different people to go for the same target, not even realizing the other was there until your bullets collided when you both went to shoot your target

“Are ya crazy?! I was just about to kill em!” You’d both shout angrily, quickly realizing the situation. You would roll your eyes as Striker tried to tell you he could handle catching the target, and you didn’t have to worry your pretty little head about it. You both took off running after the target, trying to grab them or kill them before the other could. You got the upper hand, tackling the target and killing them quickly with a neck break. Striker skidded to a halt, a sly smile on his face as he grinned, “Well, a wins a win, ain’t it? Nice catch, dollface. How about I treat ya to a drink?”

After getting drinks together and chatting for awhile, he became less and less of an asshole, turning his charm on and making you swoon (on the inside at least, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction). After drinks, you went your separate ways, but started seeing each other more often because of your lines of work

You’d start dating eventually after finally giving in and going to his motel room with him to bang his brains out. He’s def a top though, so you’d leave the morning after with some scratches on your back and HUGE hickeys on your neck that were impossible to hide without stealing his bandana and tying it around your neck. He’d def like to mark you up to claim you, warning other imps not to even think about even breathing near you wrong

Lots of horse rides on Bombproof, you’d sit behind Striker and he’d make his horse ride a little rougher just to make you hold on tighter to him to stay on. You’d feed Bombproof while Striker got a fire going to take a rest for the night in the middle of the desert. He’d cook up some random Hell Birds he shot out of the sky for the two of you, plucking the feathers and handing you a bird on a stick. Not exactly the most romantic dinner, but you were also used to this kind of food so it brought some homely comfort

Speaking of homely comfort, you’d take him home to your family farm to meet everyone after a few months of dating and riding around the Rings of Hell with him. Your younger siblings were impressed with his gun slinging skills and he’d flex his muscles and let them hang off his arms to show off his strength. He’d be kind to your folks, kissing your moms hand and shaking your dads, complimenting their pile of bricks and talking up their daughter to them, which of course charmed them both. He even went as far to cook dinner for the whole family with you, giving a great first impression and gaining their approval to date you

When it came to doing bounties and assassinations together, the two of your worked incredibly well together, with your brains and his brawn. Plus doing it together made life far less lonely, being able to sleep together after long days of undercover work or chasing targets through Hell. Neither of you worried too much about the others safety, seeing how the both of you could handle yourselves with ease

When the two of you took an undercover job on Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch to get closer to a target and investigate the case. You did hard farm work all day between snooping around the house, acting as a charming couple looking for honest work. The work was nice to do though, reminded you of being a kid on your farm before you went into the bounty business, and Striker looked good doing his work so there was no complaining from you-

When your targets associates finally arrived, you slapped a convincing smile on your face and charmed them as best you could with your boyfriend. You quickly tried to make friends with Millie, easily gaining her trust by agreeing with her about things and saying shit she would like. Like when her paw suggested the boys enter the Pain Games, you talked up Striker which made her talk up Moxxie, and talking up your S/O always helped brighten the mood. You’d playfully say Striker was better, and the two of you made a friendly bet of who would win. You’d later laugh about it with Striker, giggling that there was absolutely no competition and he’d compliment your bullshitting skills with a grin

You and Millie cheered your boys on at the games, and you’d flash her a smile when Striker easily beat Moxxie with not much effort at all. You’d also take the opportunity to genuinely cheer for your boyfriend, enjoying watching him wrangle other contestants and wrestle with Blitzø in the mud like the stupid boys they were. Millie started disliking you when you cheered for Striker as he sang on stage about how he beat her husband and how much better he was than him, and you slipped up and said “What? He is.” instead of bullshitting some sympathy to Moxxie

After the Pain Games were over, you started getting back on track for your mission: killing Prince Stolas for his wife. You stayed outside with the family to distract them while Striker followed Moxxie inside, but when Millie heard something break inside, she went back inside and you now followed her up to you and Strikers room, just in time to see that bitch stab your boyfriend in the back multiple times. You quickly grabbed her and tossed her against the wall, nearly knocking her out but keeping her down

“Thanks, pumpkin’.” Striker grinned, kissing you before grabbing both imps. You let him go off, before turning to make sure the blessed rifle the Princess gave you was okay. You grabbed it and polished that little imps smudgy fingerprints off of it, smiling when Striker came back and wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Ya know that gun’ll work the same with or without smudges, right darlin?”

“Yes, but it looks better without them.” You smiled, handing the gun to him to make the hit as you heard the Prince’s voice on the mic. But your plan was eventually foiled by Blitzø and Moxxie, and the both of you ran off to safety, grabbing what belongings you could before heading out to find a shitty motel to crash for the night

#helluva boss #helluva boss striker #striker #striker x reader #helluva boss x reader

[iovetecchou]

truth or dare / mark twain

contains..! smut. slight!groping, fingering, praise, needy!reader, making out, hickies, switching positions, drunk sex, creampies slight!possessive mark

AFAB Reader.

2,681 words.

"I hardly think this is fair, Mark. You're already half naked for fucks sake!"

All that resounded through your apartment was the amber-haired man's laughter. "C'mon don't be such a downer, doll! Look, I'll pick truth next time if it makes ya happy, kay?"

You let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Shaking your head in disbelief... still unsure how you got yourself in this situation. Your good buddy, Mark, came over for a drink. But one drink turned into two, and so on and so forth.

It was safe to say you were both way past tipsy at this point, and that's when Mark suggested his bright idea to play truth or dare. There was a slight catch; if you refused to answer a truth, or commit to a dare... you had to strip.

"Who said I would want you to pick truth? It would be more fun if you picked dare, Mark." You took another sip as the cheerful man laughed once more. He placed his hands behind his head as his chuckles died down. Mark tilted his head as a coy smirk spread across his features.

"Alright, alright! Whatever ya say, doll. Now, truth or dare?" Mark looked at you expectantly, leaning in a little bit closer to your frame. Causing a deep blush to spread across your features. Luckily it was hard to tell if you were flush from the alcohol or the close proximity.

"I guess... truth?" You mumbled. Taking another sip of your drink, preparing for the worst. Mark untangled his hands from behind his head. His hands now found purchase on the tops of your thighs. The sudden action caused you to jolt upward. Your eyes flickered up to his emerald ones; trying to gauge his next move.

"Hmm, truth ya say... well, in that case! Who's the hottest Guild member in, your opinion, doll?" Your eyes narrowed at his question. "That's it? I thought you were going to ask me something way worse. Hands down, Margret is the most attractive member in our organization."

His smirk grew a bit wider at your honesty. Mark's hands began to soothe over your thighs at an unhurried pace. Almost unnoticeable, and yet you picked up on his actions in an instant. "Okay, it's your turn. Truth or dare, Mark?" He leaned in even closer, your nose nearly brushing against his.

"Truth."

"Lame..."

"Yeah, yeah! Just ask ya question, doll." You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face at his own gleeful expression. You took another sip before you spoke up. "Okay, same question. Who do you find attractive in the Guild?"

"Talk about lame..."

"Oh, shut up!"

Mark averted his gaze for a moment. He shrugged his shoulders before he blurted out, "Pass." You quirked an eyebrow up at him in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?" He took his hands away from your thighs. Bringing them down to pull off his shirt. That already left very little to your and everyone else's imagination.

After Mark freed himself from the flimsy shirt, his hands found their home back atop your thighs. Only this time, resting them a little bit higher. "Kay, it's my turn again. Ya know the drill, doll." You could barely focus on his words. Your mind was too preoccupied with the feeling of his nimble digits tracing patterns into your inner thighs.

"Truth."

"Seriously?"

"Just ask the damn question, Mark!"

He chuckled at your remark. His breath fanned over your face from the close proximity before he leaned in impossibly closer. Your noses touching now, Mark's lips ghosting over yours. "Let's try this again... which Guild member would ya sleep with?"

Your cheeks deepened in color at his bold question. You were not expecting those words to spill from his lips at all. "Mark- what the fuck? Pass." You pulled back slowly, just enough to begin unbuttoning your own shirt. Mark watched you intently as you began to strip before him.

His hands tightened around your thighs. Traveling up even further than before. The feeling of Mark's hands gliding up your thighs caused heat to pool in your core. You shrugged your shirt off your shoulders before meeting Mark's gaze once more. Your bra was the only thing keeping your upper body from being fully exposed.

Mark's eyes lingered on your chest for a moment longer before his intense gaze met yours. His eyes were half-lidded at this point, dark and swirling with desire. "My turn, love. Truth. Go on, I already know whatcha goin' to ask." His demeanor was less buoyant. It was almost as though a flip was switched within him.

You only saw him get like this when things got serious on the job. But never when the two of you were alone together. To say this was a new adjustment was an understatement. "S-Same question... who would you... sleep with, from the Guild?" You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you expectantly waited for Mark to speak up.

"Ya mean, who would I fuck? Well, that's a no-brainer... I would choose you, of course, love." You could feel yourself dripping between your thighs at this point. Mark's hands traveled higher under your skirt. His lithe fingers began tracing over the waistband of your panties tauntingly.

"Your turn, love."

"Dare."

"Atta girl."

Your lips were mere centimeters from touching, and his charming smirk was driving you wild. You were almost positive picking dare was a risky move. But curiosity got the better of you. "I dare you to kiss me," Mark whispered. His lips darted between your lips and your eyes, awaiting your next move.

Kiss... Mark? This couldn't be happening right now. You had to pinch yourself to make sure this wasn't a dream. You and Mark were friends, just friends. You two hit it off the second you first joined Guild. You noticed that he seemed to be excluded from the organization. The others found him to be bothersome more often than not. And so, you took a liking to him.

And seemingly, Mark took a liking to you as well. Sure, after some time passed your feelings for him became less platonic. But you never imagined he would reciprocate those feelings. Yet here you are, both half-naked on your living room floor. With Mark practically asking you to kiss him. This could just be the alcohol in him talking but-  

Ah, fuck it. 

In an instant, you tangled your arms around his neck. Pulling him in impossibly close as your lips met his. Mark wasted no time kissing you back. Swiping his tongue along your bottom lip. You gasped into the kiss at his bold actions, allowing his tongue to slip past your parted lips.

His hands began to pull at the waistband of your panties. He dragged them down your thighs slowly. Causing you to break away from the kiss. "Mark- wait." He stopped in his tracks. Worry swirled in his gut for a moment, before your words rang through him. Easing away all his doubts.

"I was too embarrassed to answer the question before, but... out of everyone in our organization, I would choose you too." A small smirk found its way to his features before he pressed further. "Choose me for what, doll? Ya have to be a little more specific!" He delivered a charming wink your way.

"Mark, please- I want to fuck you. There? Are you happy n-" Before you could finish your sentence... Mark was on you again. He wasted no time pulling your panties down the rest of the way. He ushered you to lay back against the cool hardwood floor mid-kiss. As his nimble digits found their way to your core.

You gasped into the kiss as his skilled fingers began rubbing quick circles into your puffy clit. You grasped at the ends of his amber hair as he continued to play with your pussy. "I need m-more...please!" You begged. Mark slipped his fingers down lower, experimentally plunging two fingers inside your needy cunt. They slipped in with ease, from how slick you were. "Atta girl, doll. You're so wet... this all f'me?"

You nodded fervently as you pressed your body closer to his. His thumb came up to rub over your bud as his fingers began plunging inside your wet heat. "Hah, Mark- feels so good, you're so good, baby." His cock twitched beneath his slacks at your praise. Only encouraging him to please you further.

Mark curled his fingers deep within you, hitting your sweet spot perfectly. You clenched around his fingers harshly as you pushed down against his deft digits that were buried deep inside you. Your frantic attempt at begging for more.

“Mark please, I need you inside me-!” You whimpered out against his lips. Looking deep into his emerald eyes with such desperation. Mark was completely mesmerized by you at this moment. He would do anything you asked of him. And how could he deny his doll when she asked for more in such a hopeless fashion?

“Fuck, doll. Ya look so precious, begging f'more like this.” Mark pulled away from you swiftly, tugging his pants and boxers down his thighs far enough to let his cock spring free. He was throbbing so much and he wasn’t even inside you yet. He had dreamt of being intimate with you like this for ages now. And hearing you whine and praise him like this… was nearly overwhelming.

Your gaze fixated on his pretty cock as your hands traveled down to your needy pussy. With your pointer and index finger, you spread yourself open for him. Your eyes trailing up the expanse of his figure. Taking in the sight of Mark nearly bare before you as you pleaded out, "Please, I can't wait any longer!"

All of his muscles tensed as he tried his hardest to hold back. Getting far too excited by your words and the sight of your pussy on full display. All for him. "Don't worry your pretty little head, doll. I'll make ya feel real good." He quipped out as he lined himself up at your entrance. He moved your fingers away from your pussy with his free hand, taking it in his own instead. Interlocking your fingers as he slowly buried himself deep inside you.

"Ah- Mark... so b-big..." You babbled out. Squeezing his hand with your own as Mark bottomed out. You could feel him twitching inside you wildly. His eyes were sealed shut as he grunted out, "You're so tight, doll. Squeezin' me just right like ya were made f'me." He delivered a swift shallow thrust, causing you both to whine in unison. This continued for a few moments more before Mark found his rhythm.

Mark buried his face in your neck. Leaving open-mouthed kisses and little lovebites. Ones for you to reminisce on tomorrow, he's sure. You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly as he continued to stir up your insides at a ruthless pace. You were clenching around him like a vise, causing Mark's eyes to roll back in pure ecstasy. "You're so good, doll. So fucking perfect, and all mine."

A sultry whine slipped past your lips from his words. Mark clouded your senses entirely. All you could focus on was him and him alone. But you didn't mind, not one bit. "Mark... I-I wanna be on top. Please let me make you feel good too!" You cried out. His head snapped up, eyes fixating on your own. He twitched intensely inside you at the look of desperation on your face.

Your need to please him lit a fire within him. Before you knew it, Mark was wrapping his arms around your waist. He sat upright, pulling you into his lap. While still fully sheathed inside you. You whined at the feeling of his dick throbbing deep within you from this position. He was dragging against your walls just right like this. "So good, baby. You feel so good."

You cooed out. Bringing your hands down to Mark's chest. Playfully tweaking his nipples as you began grinding yourself down in his lap. Rocking back and forth with his cock nestled perfectly inside you. "Hah... doll, I was just about to say the same thing..." He quipped out. Offering you a charming wink in the process. His hands found their way to your hips, aiding your movements.

Mark pulled you up by your hips. Just to slam you right back down mere moments later. All while you continued to grind yourself in his lap. "Need m-more, doll..." Mark huffed out. Staring down at you with half-lidded eyes as he began to lift his hips. He thrusted up into you in perfect harmony with the way he continued to slam you down against his lap. Reaching even deeper inside your drooling pussy.

You could hardly form words at this point. He was fucking up into you at an unrelenting pace. Skin slapping against skin reverberated around the room. As well as your desperate whines. Mark was mesmerized by your blissed-out form. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth hanging ajar as the most obscene moans slipped out. Your breasts bounced from within the confines of your bra with each harsh movement Mark made inside you. And your pussy was squeezing him just right.

"Atta girl... you're takin' me so good. M'gonna fill ya up, kay? Ya gonna let me cum inside, doll?" Mark grunted out. His pace slightly wavered. You could tell he wouldn't last much longer. But you weren't too far behind. You felt the coil within you begin to unravel with the way Mark continued to fuck up into you. "Yes baby, please, I'm so close... k-kiss me!" You pleaded. Bringing your hands back up to wrap around his neck.

Mark wasted no time slamming his lips against yours. His eyes rolled back into his head as his hips began to speed up. That was all it took for you to topple over the edge. You came around Mark's cock, pulsing and gushing all over his lap. The feeling of you cumming all over him, gripping him like a vise, was his last straw. He moaned into the kiss as his first ropes of cum shot deep inside you. His thrusts came to a halt a few moments later. Letting the last of his seed fill you up.

Mark was still twitching wildly inside of you. You could feel the mix of his and your release trickling out of your spent pussy. Slowly, you pulled away from the kiss. Resting your forehead against his as you both shared the same air. "Mark... that was..." You trailed off. Slowly opening your eyes to gaze up into his emerald ones. He let out a deep chuckle, his hands trailing up your sides. Tracing patterns into your hips in the process.

"I know, doll... I know. I've been dreamin' of this moment for a long while now. If I'm being frank. Who woulda thought a little game of truth or dare would lead us... here!" He gestured down to where you were both still connected. Your face flushed immediately at his insinuation, sobering you up completely. You averted your gaze, scoring your bottom lip with your teeth.

As your eyes met his once more you took in a sharp breath. Swallowing your pride in the process. "What if I said... I've been thinking about doing... this, with you, for a long time now too..." You whispered; so faintly, it was barely audible. But Mark heard you, loud and clear. A rosy blush spread along his cheeks, the alcohol fully wearing off for him now too.

"Ah... w-well that's real good to know, doll. What do ya say we... do this more often, yeah?" A coy smile spread across his face as he awaited your response. His warm hands still soothing over your sides. A smile of your own spread across your features. You nodded wordlessly, pulling him in for a deep kiss. A silent confirmation, so to speak. But Mark got the message, nonetheless.

"Sooo... wanna play a few more rounds, doll?"

; dedicated to my lovely wifey @win-writes <3

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #bsd smut #bsd x you #bsd #mark twain x reader #mark twain #mark twain bsd #bsd mark twain

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

Stay-At-Home Spencer

- ever since your daughter was born, you and Spencer have taken it in turns to become a single parent while the other parent travels for work

- you offered to stay at home and care for her every time the team needed to travel somewhere because you felt that Spencer was far more useful to the team than you were, but he insisted on splitting it equally

“Considering I couldnt physically assist you in carrying our daughter for nine months and then birthing her, I will spend the rest of our lives doing everything I can for her, and for you.”

- to begin with, both of you stayed home because you were recovering and Spencer made it his job to take care of both of you

- if the team really needed Spencer, you pretty much forced him to go because without him people could literally die, but he never left for more than a night or two

- but as soon as you were well, you were desperate to get back to work after being on maternity leave, so you took the first trip away

- which meant for the first time, Spencer was alone with and solely responsible for his daughter

- needless to say, he was terrified

- although he had paid attention to everything you did as a mother, it seemed that when he tried the same things, they didnt work because he wasnt you

- he also found it fascinating that although your daughter was only a few months old and was perfectly fine whenever you left the room, your daughter had somehow figured out that you were completely out of the house, and she was distraught

- for a solid hour, she cried

- Spencer tried everything, he tried feeding her, burping her, changing her even though she didnt need it

- eventually, he found the greatest solution: pulling funny faces at her

- he realised this completely by accident, he happened to pull a particularly contorted stressed face when she burst into tears despite another attempt at cheering her up, and suddenly she was in fits of giggles

- so he pulled the face again, and she was giggling more

- he lifted her to sit on his raised knees on the floor, bringing her closer to his face to try out some more strange expressions, all of them had her laughing in the most wonderful way

- in that position, she realised that she could reach out and grab some of her father’s hair, which she did

- Spencer was surprised at how gentle she was with him, considering babies often grab things with a lot of determination

- for the rest of the day, he tirelessly pulled different facial expressions until it was almost her bedtime, and by then Spencer’s face was aching

- he had a cloth on his shoulder to catch her drool as he held her in her new favourite place: where she could reach his hair

- you had been texting Spencer at every chance you got to make sure things were going well, but you knew better than to call, just in case your daughter was napping

- unfortunately, one person who didnt think of this was Derek Morgan

- you had been in the bathroom when Derek suggested the team needed Spencer’s help, and by the time you were done peeing the phone was already ringing

- your husband picked up the phone on the second ring so that it disturbed her as little as possible

“Hello?”

“Hey pretty boy, we need your help.”

- Spencer could tell he was on speaker to the entire team, and he hoped with every fibre of his being that there wouldnt be anymore tears from his daughter

- he then heard your voice in the background whisper-yelling

“DEREK MORGAN YOU DID NOT CALL SPENCER! IT’S ALMOST BEDTIME!”

“Spencer has a bedtime?” Derek chuckled.

“Not him-“

- and as if on cue, the little baby in Spencer’s arms squealed with delight, as if she somehow knew people were talking about her

“Oh SHIT! Im so sorry kid!”

“Dont worry, she’s calmed down and ready for sleep after her bottle. What do you need?”

- and so, as Spencer bustled around the kitchen, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear while he held his little girl with one arm and prepared a warm bottle of milk with the other, Spencer discussed and essentially solved the case for his team

- “Oh, by the way, pretty girl says she loves you.”

- ah yes, Spencer was pretty boy and you were pretty girl to Derek, always

“Tell her I love her too!”

“Pretty boy says he loves you too.” Derek repeats to you, and Spencer knew you were smiling without even having to see you

“Good luck with the kid, kid.” Derek said sweetly.

“Thank you, good luck with the rest of the case. Look after my wife!”

“We will!” JJ called out.

- with that, Spencer ended the call and began to give your daughter her nightly bottle

- he sat on the couch, holding her gently and admiring her features

- her tiny hands with the gentlest grabby fingers, her perfectly round cheeks, the feathery hair sprouting at the top of her head, and her eyes, your eyes

- once she’d finished her bottle, Spencer walked to her crib and rocked her a little in his arms, humming softly to her until she was fast asleep, and then placing her in her crib

- he tucked her blanket around her and moved a stuffed animal beside her, which she immediately grabbed ahold of in her sleep

- bending down to place a kiss on his daughter’s head, Spencer whispered goodnight to her before leaving the room

- he collapsed on the couch, exhausted beyond what he ever thought possible

- his phone vibrated on the table and he smiled tiredly

You: hey love, everything alright? x

Him: today has been wonderful, but we both missed you a lot! little fairy is sleeping now, and I think I’ve been inspired to do the same x

You: ahhh! you’ve done such a good job, congratulations!! you’re a stay-at-home dad now hahaha. and you finished our case today! you definitely deserve the rest. I’ll be home tomorrow! sweet dreams my angel x

Him: hank you sweetheart. I cant wait to hold you again. I’ll dream of you x

- Spencer didnt even have the energy to move himself from the couch to the bed, he simply shifted slightly so that he was comfortable, and passed out

- a smile lingered on his face as he thought about what you’d said

- a stay-at-home dad, you’d called him. he liked that title

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #criminal minds

[starlightandsouls]

Hand In Hand, We Live

A/N: I cannot seem to get off the fluff train you guys, all the sweetness is rotting my brain. I hope you like this small thing. Do let me know what you think of my writing. Please please comment, it keeps me going

Takes place in the 1+1=4 universe but can be read as a standalone

..............................................................................................

Azriel POV...

There had been few things in his long, long life that had been able to bring Velaris’s infamous Shadowsinger to tears. His ruthless attitude and stoicism was what made Azriel so good at his job. There were few people who saw through that mask of his; his brothers, his mother. But even they were always kept at a distance. Then, you came into his life. And oh so slowly you began to chip away that cold exterior of his until he surrendered his heart to you completely.

And just when he had thought his life couldn’t possibly get any better, the Mother had blessed the two of them with twin children, Mikhail and Annalise, their little miracles. Not only because of how rare it was for Fae to conceive, but also because of the hardships they had faced afterwards, mainly Beron and his plotting, miserable ass. Thankfully, that pig had been disposed off soon after. With Eris as High Lord and his alliance with Rhysand, Azriel was assured that their children would grow up in a somewhat safer world.

Their little blessings were almost two years old now, the darlings of not only their parents but also of the entire Inner Circle. Therefore, they were no less spoilt. Like today, Mikhail has been whisked off with Cassian and Rhysand. The two of them often kidnapped their children to buy them more toys than they had space to keep. Anna, however, had been a little moody today, unwilling to go with the uncles she usually doted on. Like her father, she was often overwhelmed with people and needed time to recharge. Since he had nothing to do for the day, he had stayed home with his daughter, even sending you off for some shopping with Feyre and Nesta, knowing you also deserved some time to relax.

Now, as we return to the matter at hand, Azriel rarely cried. The last time he remembered crying was at his mating ceremony and then when his precious children were born. The most recent case of tears, it seemed, would take place today.

After bathing her and feeding her, he had taken her to his room to try and get her to sleep. His little angel seemed particularly restless today. So now Azriel was sitting against the headboard in bed, with his knees pulled up and Anna's back resting against them. No matter, how much time passed he was still amazed by his children, unable to believe that someone like him would be blessed by such perfect miracles. Every time he held Mikhail or looked into Anna’s eyes he teared up.

As he cooed at Anna’s babbles, he tickled her tummy which caused her to erupt into a fit of giggles, the sound more beautiful to him than any symphony ever could be. As he laughed along her, Anna grabbed his hand in hers. The sight made his breath catch. Anytime he saw his marred hands against her smooth, soft skin, he felt like collapsing. The memory of what he had done his entire life resurfaced as he held such innocent children in his arms.

He’s pulled back from his memories as Anna ran her hand across the scars and ridges that riddled his hands; the hideous sight not deterring her one bit. She pulled his hand up with both of hers, turning it over as if seeing it for the first time. Completing her inspection, she put his hand up against her face and rested her hand against his palm, all the time smiling up at him.

Her glistening hazel eyes, mirroring his own, gazing up at him with that gorgeous smile of hers, was enough to bring Azriel to tears. His heart had never felt as full as it did now. He had hated his hands his entire life, finding them too ugly, too sinful to ever accept. Regardless of what his family and his mate had worked to reassure him over the long time he had known them, Azriel still harboured some resentment for his burnt hands. But in this moment, he could swear he had never loved them more than he did now, with his daughter resting against them.

Seeing her father’s tears rolling freely down his face, Anna flicked her head to the side, trying to figure out what was ailing her dad. Being unable to understand, she took matters into her own hands, and crawled over on her father’s chest. Reaching him, she wiped her tiny hands on his face, rubbing away any tears left. Anna then once again smiled up at him, feeling proud of her work. Azriel only shook his head, and pulled her against his chest.

You had come home to find both father and daughter snuggled up together, fast asleep. And when Mikhail returned, the two of you joined them as well. With his family in his arms, what more could Azriel want.

.................................................................................

The next time little Anna made her father cry was when she had turned eight. Even still so young, both his children were exceptionally bright, a fact he took much pride in. Both had their own hobbies that they loved partaking in.

They were currently at the House of Wind, visiting Nesta and Cassian. Mikhail was off play wrestling with Cass while Anna was busy being doted on by her Aunts. Just as he was about to go find Rhysand, Anna ran over to where he was sitting and jumped to his lap.

“Dada I made you something,” Annalise said, gazing up at him with her big, doe eyes, her sweet smile adorning her face.

“Did you, my little star?” he offered in return. Anna nodded her head as she went on,

“I made them with Auntie Gwyn.”

From the pocket of her jacket, she then procures two friendship bracelets. Both of them were identical, consisting of blue (presumably for his siphons) and pink, which was Annalise’s favourite colour. She took his hand in his and tied it around his wrist, putting her own on as well.

Anna then took his hand and put it side by side with hers, admiring her work.

“See, Dada. Now we’re the same,” his little angel said, as if the most obvious thing in the world.

Azriel only wiped away his tears and gave his Anna a reassuring smile,

And the simple statement from his innocent, brilliant daughter was enough to bring tears to his eyes. It was shocking to Azriel how his children found his scars to be as much a part of him as anything else, never finding them hideous or scary. It was true as well. Little Anna had never found them ugly at all. And there was a simple reason for it as well; to her they were just her father’s hands. The same hands which would comfort her during a thunderstorm, the same hands which taught her how to walk and then fly, the same hands that helped her tickle her brother whenever they all sat together. Deep down she knew, even then, that those hands would be the first to catch her whenever she would stumble in life.

“Yes, darling. We’re the same.”

From that day onwards, Azriel wore that bracelet that his daughter made for him every single day. To trainings to meetings to dinners to missions. It was a reminder of his family that waited for him at home, of his daughter who he loved more than his own life. It was a rather disconcerting sight; seeing the feared Shadowsinger wear around a pink bracelet. But the few idiots who had ever questioned him about it, now warned everyone else. Because no one made fun of his daughter’s work and got away with it.

So Azriel continued wearing it, often taking it to Gwyn for repairs when the threads started to fray, because he trusted no one but the expert with this precious item. Seeing it on his wrist everyday would remind him of the unconditional love his children had for him, and the eternal devotion he had to them. Anna and Mikhail taking his hand in theirs for comfort made him slowly let go of his resentment of his scars. Hand in hand, he learned to love and accept them, forever grateful for you and their children for teaching him that everyone deserved to be loved; even the scarred and broken.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #acotar hc #acotar headcanon #azriel headcanon #azriel headcanons #azriel x reader #1+1=4 fic #azriel x you #azriel fluff

[joanquill]

Reader with a Tattoo, Piercing (+ other details) Headcanons with Albert and Sherlock

How Albert and Sherlock would react to the reader having a tattoo, piercing, glasses, and long, wavy, thick hair in a braid.

Albert James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes

A/N: The request had specific details, so I apologize for the title and the summary; I wasn't sure what to put on it :') Also, I forgot to say the Valentine's event is open ^^" you can check the rules here ^^ Tag/s: Fem!Reader, Headcanons, Long Warning/s: Historically inaccurate

Now, judgemental and prying eyes are nothing new to you.

Whether it's because of the spider bite piercing on the left side of your lips, the color on your nails, or the moon and star tattoo on the right side of your neck, you can see them wherever you go.

You never really care what others think, knowing better than to stick your nose in other people's business.

If you're lucky, the most people do is stare at you like some attraction.

The worst is when someone tries to call the cops on you for being a criminal just because of your tattoo and piercing.

Luckily, your bangs can shield some curious eyes, and your long braided hair could hide your tattoo somewhat from the distance.

Because of the harsh greeting you always receive when you go out, you usually keep to yourself, ignoring the public as you just keep living your life.

Albert James Moriarty

When Albert met you, you were a date to some noble, a target, moreover, showing you off like a trophy or exotic pet.

Your long, thick, and wavy hair was now tied to a braided bun, showing off your tattoo and piercing with your nails decorated in your favorite color.

It piqued his interest how you wore a piercing and sported a tattoo but questioned how you knew the noble you were with, knowing nothing of his connections to you.

He could tell you weren't enjoying the party with how the others reacted.

Asking you invasive questions, trying to touch your piercing and tattoo, and giving backhanded compliments.

Albert managed to help you, pulling you away from the public eye and leading you to the quiet gardens, letting you breathe for the first time that night.

You sincerely thanked him, unsure what you would have done if your temper got the better of you.

He planned to leave you alone that night or at least put some distance between you two, seeing as how you were bombarded with questions as the crowd got way too close for comfort.

But you insisted for him to keep you company, just in case some other party guests tried to disturb you.

Seeing as you could have some information on the target and he is curious about you, he agreed.

Apparently, you had no connection to the target before this night.

He found you while you were out and suddenly asked you to be his date, saying he would catch the eye of nobles with you on his arm.

And you only agreed because he only paid a hefty sum of money on the spot.

However, Albert warned that the noble has a history of buying women he found interesting, only for those women to disappear suddenly.

Seeing as how you almost lost your life tonight, you again thanked Albert but assured him you could fight, showing the pistol and dagger you hid underneath your dress.

Albert's smile slightly widened before going back to normal, growing more interested in you.

You spent the rest of the night talking to each other, avoiding your date, who apparently has a packet of sleeping drugs in hand, confirming your suspicions.

During your conversations, Albert noticed how your values aligned with theirs.

Your weaponry skills, which you happily showed to prove him wrong when he teased you, demonstrated to be quite handy for their cause.

And you seemed to have the determination they look for to change this cruel, unfair world.

When the party was nearly ending, Albert offered to bring you home, making sure you were safe before he and his brothers could take care of the target.

The next day, Albert told his encounter with you to his brothers, also catching their interest.

Seeing as you could be an ally, William orchestrated a test for you, and you passed.

Since then, you have been part of their group.

Your job in the group was to be Albert's partner in gathering information and fighting.

Slowly but surely, Albert fell in love with you.

Spending time with you, getting to know you better, watching you slowly come out of your shell, he knew he wanted to be by your side as his actual lover.

He even found you wearing glasses to be cute.

It wasn't hard to tell as well.

Everyone knew Albert held you in a special place in his heart, making sure you were unharmed and away from the judgemental eyes of high society.

Sherlock Holmes

As for Sherlock, you two met coincidentally.

He was out getting groceries (after John's constant lecture on responsibility and Miss Hudson's deadly glare) when he saw you buying some food.

He saw you from the corner of his eye and immediately became intrigued.

This man has no shame as he approaches you, giving a nonchalant hello as he introduces himself and offers his hand.

You hesitantly shook his hand, giving your name as he stared at you for a few seconds.

"Huh... Never seen decorated nails on a lady before," he grinned as he held your hand up, making you pull it back.

"W-What are you-"

"-Let alone ones on hands capable of handling a sword and a gun," he grinned as he leaned down to your height, making you turn away and fix your glasses.

"And a piercing and a tattoo on exposed skin..." he continued his deduction as he looked at you with curious eyes.

"Tell me, miss... did you do all this yourself?" he asked as he brushed off your braid, exposing your neck tattoo.

You quickly hid it again and looked at him with furrowed brows, baffled and shocked at the man's character.

You excused yourself, hurriedly walking off, but Sherlock followed you, asking questions that hit the mark or just pure curiosity.

"I'm guessing from the state of your glasses you don't wear them often,"

"Tell me, why a star and a moon specifically?"

"How did you get your nails decorated?"

This went on for a while until you stopped and glared at Sherlock, politely telling him to leave you as you held back your irritation.

Sherlock nonchalantly brushed it off, saying he just wanted to know more about you.

"All right... Now listen here-" you angrily pointed at him, making him grab your hand and inspect your finger.

"I see... You use flowers for dye..." he muttered as you pulled back your hand, dusting it off.

"I think I can make a better polish..." he added, making you freeze as you looked at him.

"Here," Sherlock took out a pen and paper and wrote down his address, "Come to this place next week at noon... Don't be late," he gave you the note as he waved goodbye, leaving you in bewilderment.

Despite your better judgment, you found yourself standing in front of 221B Baker Street.

And just like he said, Sherlock made some nail polish that was shinier, better color, and lasted longer than the ones you already own.

You asked why he would make them, and he shrugged and said he thought the material could help with his job.

After that, you would visit his place from time to time, growing to like his company.

Until one day, you found yourself visiting him every day, even coming to investigations with him and John.

Sherlock would even scold you if you would arrive later than usual.

You'd never admit it, but you were truly glad Sherlock approached you that day.

Sherlock doesn't know it himself... but he would start looking for you and craving your company.

Your relationship was more platonic at the start until it started growing into something more without him noticing.

Even John noticed his best friend's change of behavior, but Sherlock would rather die than admit he's fallen for you.

...Well, not before you admit your feelings for him.

#yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #albert moriarty x reader #sherlock x reader #albert james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #albert moriarty #ynm sherlock #sherlock holmes #headcanons

[loveackermannn]

Hi Cha 👋 Congrats on 1k followers 🎉

May I request a fic for Levi from love prompts “unconsciously smiling whenever they smile” and from parents prompts “oh sweetie...” ?

💌 – helloooo love! of course :D you are the first request for my event!! < 3 i hope you enjoy,,,

Levi had always been a man of expression, more so than he was with words. But when it came to the existence of you in his life, he'd often find himself straying away from the hard and cold man that he once was.

He was clumsy in romance and didn't know what was even the bare minimum at first, but you remained patient. As the months followed, he would soon find himself at your office door most nights (particularly when he couldn't sleep) and stubbornly excusing it as nothing more than to "just get some work done". Regardless of what he told you so many nights at a time, behind closed doors showed a very different Levi than the one you grew to know and admire.

While he didn't say much, you did notice how soft his features became upon entering your room. From working separately on paperwork in the same space, to now sharing that space together on your couch (or his) had made you feel something that you couldn't seem to shake. From eating across each other in the dining hall to now skipping gathered meal time to eat dinner together in your office had become routine as well.

Eventually, you had broken down his walls piece by piece and rebuilt him back up again. A man who once hated the idea of being touched or romantically involved with another individual, to a man who now craves your presence in any room he's in, who desires for your heart in the days he is awake and to the evenings that it becomes quiet.

He wants the whole of you forever.

And on occasions when Levi thinks you can't notice, he finds that his brows are no longer creasing the way they used to (to which you'd tease him for doing, saying he'll 'become an old man faster' – He wasn't too fond) and the tension in his face soothes the moment he lays his eyes on you.

Surely you can't tell that he's flat out staring at you in the middle of this meeting.

Oh, but you can.

To your entertainent, you say nothing, only casually observing in your peripheral. He's calm, yet admiring from afar as if the two of you aren't dating but a mere crush he doesn't intend on asking out anytime soon.

But then, you catch it.

His lips are upturned ever-so-slightly that it'd be difficult for anyone else in the room to notice and his chin resting in the palm of his hand. He's almost too casual with it that you wonder if he really is the same man he was several months before you started dating.

Your eyes shifted slowly in his direction and when he finally realized that you had been looking at him all the same, it was almost on instinct that he straightened himself up in his chair and darted his attention elsewhere. At that moment, you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself behind your hand – He was out like an open book at that point.

"Mama!"

Snapping out of your deep daydream, you look down at a little girl who so closely ressembles your husband, but mirrored that of your personality altogether.

"Hm? What is it? You should be in bed, it's getting late" you scold softly, picking her up and setting her on your lap.

"Can you tell me a story?"

"What kind of story?"

"Hmm..." she feigns thinking, tapping her finger on her chin. You wonder if she'll have you re-read another one of her favorite books off her shelf again. But, to your surprise that wasn't the case at all.

"How about a story of you and Papa! Surely you guys have some love story like the princesses in my books!" she suggests with a light in her eyes that you couldn't bring yourself to say no.

"Oh sweetie... Of course, let's see where do I start.."

Little did the two of you know, a man stood behind the doorway of the room, smiling tenderly to himself knowing he has a wife and daughter waiting for him to come home.

☆ — 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @saenora , @youre-ackermine , @lovolee3 , @notgoodforlife , @averysmolbear , @bejewelledd , @leviismybby , @evas-leslas , @roseofdarknessblog @cometlevi , @21aurora , @leviykwim , @svftackerman (! ! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝)

☆ — want to send a prompt request for my 1k event?! see my masterpost: here. *PLEASE READ ALL RULES AND GUIDELINES!*

#cha's 1k event ! ☆〜（ゝ。∂） #chaloveslevi #shitrambles #levi ackerman #attack on titan #captain levi #levi heichou #shingeki no kyojin #levi scenarios #levi ackerman comfort #levi x reader #levi snk #levi aot #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman headcanons

[sequinsmile-x]

Heartbeat on the Highline

She knew it was a fine line between being his wife and being his employee, and it was something she usually walked well. Balancing on it like it was a tightrope, a well-practised routine. But she felt like she’d tripped, like she was freefalling, and as much as she wanted him to catch her, to be the safety net she always claimed she didn’t need. 

AKA, the one in which Emily and Aaron get a call that their daughter has had to go to hospital whilst they are away on a case.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is a fic I started a long time ago and never really got anywhere with beyond one particular scene, but I finally reopened the document today and finished it.

This fic brings my total word count to 1,736,161...which is more than the entire Game of Thrones book series (1,736,054) . Which is ridiculous and amazing and...just about everything in between. If George R. R. Martin ever actually releases the next book in A Song of Fire and Ice I guess I'll just have to beat him again!!

Thank you so much for your continued support of my writing, it means the absolute world. As long as y'all are here reading, I'll be here thinking of new things to put these two through!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Sick child, hospitals

Words: 4.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily grimaces as she takes a sip of her coffee, looking down at the mug in her hand with disdain as she swallows. 

“Leaves a lot to be desired, doesn’t it?” 

She smiles as she looks up at her husband, “It’s not the worst we’ve ever had,” she mumbles, taking another sip and grimacing at the bitterness, “But it’s up there.” 

It had been a long day that had started with a phone call from Penelope before dawn. They were dragged out of sleep and their bed for a case. Aaron had called Jessica to ask her to come over to look after the kids as Emily got ready for the day, distracted partway through her make-up routine by their toddler crying out for her. Ines had been grumpy, the 18-month-old’s usual happy demeanour nowhere to be found as she demanded her mother’s attention, her slightly too warm forehead against Emily’s neck as she refused to be put back down. 

As they’d left the house and she’d handed her little girl over to Jessica she explained that Ines had a bit of a temperature. Familiar guilt had lingered in her belly all day, the reality of balancing her love for her job and her love for her children something she was never sure she got right. Leaving behind her daughter when she wasn’t quite herself made her heart feel heavy, a weight in her chest that she knew wouldn’t lessen until she was home again. 

Aaron smiles at her and nods towards the front of the bullpen, “Come on, the sooner we deliver the profile, the sooner we catch this guy. And then we can go home.” 

She nods and downs the rest of her coffee, putting her mug down before she follows her husband. She stops as her phone rings from her pocket and she pulls it out, her momentary joy at her wallpaper, a picture of Jack and Ines cuddled together on the couch, is immediately squashed. She feels a sense of dread when she sees Jessica’s name appear on her cellphone screen. It roots her to the spot, her limbs heavy, her grip on her phone tightening as everything else around her fades out, the sound of the rest of the team delivering the profile muffled as if she was behind glass. 

They had a routine. If they were away on a case Jessica would always send a text to check if they were free before she called so Emily and Aaron could say goodnight to Jack and Ines when they were away on a case. They would step away from whatever they were doing, she and Aaron huddled together around one of their phones as they spoke to their children just before they went to bed, an ache in her chest that Emily learnt never quite went away when one of them told her they missed her. 

This was different. It was only 5.45 pm, too early for either of them to be going to bed, even Ines, the 18-month-old well known for being occasionally defiant for anyone other than Emily when it came to bedtime. 

She shakes her head at herself, ridding herself of thoughts she’s sure are an overreaction and she briefly looks up, her gaze catching Aaron’s. She tilts her head towards the hallway she’s near and holds up her phone to tell him she has to take a call. He nods, his smile as reassuring as it was subtle, something only she would ever be able to pick up on. She answers as she steps away, not wanting the call to ring out, her instincts that something was wrong still vibrating under her skin.

“Jess, hi,” she answers, looking back over her shoulder to make sure she’s far enough away from everyone else that she won’t be overheard, “Is everything ok? You don’t usually call this early.” 

“Emily,” Jessica replies, and Emily immediately knows she’s right, that something has happened. Her training and profession both a blessing and a curse as she picks up on the poorly concealed concern in the other woman’s voice, “I’m so sorry to have you call you and tell you this, but Ines is in the hospital.” 

Emily feels like all of the air has been stolen from her lungs. Her breath catches in her chest, hooking onto her ribs in a way thats painful. She leans against the wall she’d been standing near, suddenly not trusting her legs to hold her up. Her shoulders press into the plaster, the coolness of it through her shirt barely registering. 

Something was wrong with her little girl and she was hours away from her. “Wh…what?” She asks, her voice hoarse. “What happened, is she hurt?” 

“No, she didn’t hurt herself,” Jessica says, her voice calmer now, naturally falling into the role of the caretaker she often filled, clearly picking up on Emily’s unusual display of panic, “She spiked a fever and I couldn’t get it down with Tylenol or anything else and,” she pauses, blowing out a breath before she continues, “She had a seizure.”

Whatever she thought Jessica was going to say it wasn’t that. Her stomach churns and she immediately feels sick, the distance between herself and home further than it had ever felt, the guilt she felt for leaving, even for work, when she’d known Ines wasn’t entirely herself that morning overwhelming.

“Oh my God,” Emily exclaims, her hand coming to cover her mouth, her nausea climbing up her throat. Before she can say anything else Jessica continues, giving her more details she doesn’t know how to ask for. 

“The doctors said she’s okay, it was brought on by the fever. It seems to be an ear infection and they are treating it now, they are also going to do other tests to make sure it isn’t anything else.”

“Okay,” Emily says, her throat dry, all of her efforts channelled into not bursting into tears in the middle of a police precinct. She clears her throat and swallows thickly, pushing down the bile that feels like it’s climbing up her throat, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, can you stay with her until I get there?”

She knows she doesn’t have to ask, that Jessica considers Ines as her niece as much as Jack is her nephew, but she does because she can’t think of what else to say. 

“Of course,” Jessica says, “I’ll text you the details of where we are.” 

“Thank you,” Emily breathes out, trying to steady herself, her nerves frayed to the point where they might snap. She’s immediately hit by another thought, cursing herself for not thinking of her son sooner, “Fuck, is Jack ok? Was he there when she…” 

She drifts off, sure if she said outloud that her daughter, her baby, had had a seizure she would fall apart right there. That pieces of her would spill out onto the coffee-stained carpet beneath her feet, something she couldn’t let happen until she saw her little girl, until she made sure she was okay. 

“He saw it happen,” Jessica says carefully, “He was scared but he’s okay now Ines is ok, he’s in there now reading to her.” 

Emily chokes out a laugh that sounds strangled, caught in her throat in all of the fear lodged there, and she nods despite the fact Jessica cannot see her.

“Good, I’m glad he’s okay,” She blows out a steady breath and she looks up as she hears footsteps, her smile tight as she sees her husband enter the hallway she’d sought solitude in. 

Regret fills her chest at the thought of what she has to tell him and she turns her attention back to Jessica on the other end of the phone. “I should go, but let me know if anything else happens ok?” 

“Of course.” 

Emily later wouldn’t remember if she said goodbye to Jessica, or anything beyond turning so she’s looking at Aaron properly, his eyebrows creased as he picks up on her demeanour, how something was clearly wrong. 

“Em?” He asks, stepping closer to her. His hand reaches out and wraps around hers, linking their fingers together in a way he usually wouldn’t at work, instantly providing comfort that she never has to ask for. He was always there, ready and waiting, aware of her needs often before she was, “Is everything okay?” 

She shakes her head in response. “No,” she swallows thickly and squeezes his hand in return, “It isn’t,” she clenches her teeth and presses her lips together, determined not to lose her composure, “That was Jess, Ines is sick. She’s in hospital.” 

It feels like a jolt of electricity, a rush of adrenaline that makes him feel frozen in place, sending a shiver up his spine. His stomach churns, the mere mention of his little girl being unwell enough makes him feel sick. He looks at his wife and he knows he has to pull it together. She was always the strong one, always the glue that held him together, but he knew their family, their children, were her weak spot. The chink in her impenetrable armour. She was barely holding herself together, the emotions he can see she is desperately trying to hide showing through the cracks in her facade.

He could fall apart later when they knew their daughter was okay, when they were home and by her side. 

“What happened?” He asks, stepping closer, making sure he is providing all the comfort he can. 

“She has an ear infection, her fever spiked so high she had a seizure,” her voice cracks on the last word and she looks at the ceiling, willing the tears she can feel gathering in her eyes to disappear, “I need to go home, Aaron. I need to see my baby.” 

It had never been in any doubt, the logistics of everything already playing out in the back of his mind as he stood there with his wife, “Of course, sweetheart,” he says, cupping her cheek with the hand not linked with his and briefly resting his forehead against hers, “Dave can take point here, we can get a flight-”

She looks at him, moving so fast she feels something pull in her neck, the pain barely registering. 

“We can’t both leave,” she says, even though she wants him with her, her words contradicting everything she was feeling, “We’ve barely been here a day.”

She knew it was a fine line between being his wife and being his employee, and it was something she usually walked well. Balancing on it like it was a tightrope, a well-practised routine. But she felt like she’d tripped, like she was freefalling, and as much as she wanted him to catch her, to be the safety net she always claimed she didn’t need. 

“Emily,” he says firmly, pushing down the spark of irritation in his gut at the implication that anything was more important than their family. He knows it’s unfair, that she’s like a frayed nerve right now, so he ignores it, aware she isn’t necessarily thinking straight, “There is no way I’m staying here when our daughter is in hospital. I’m coming with you. Okay?” 

She pauses for a moment before she nods, “Okay,” she says, her lower lip trembling, “Can I…can I have a hug?” 

It feels pathetic, like a ridiculous thing to ask her husband, but she asks anyway. Unsure what to do in this situation, this collision of their personal and professional lives, any pretence that they weren’t together, their relationship usually a point of interest to local cops if they figured out they were married, shattered on the floor around them. 

“Oh Em,” he says, pulling her into a hug, his lips against her temple as she settles into his embrace, “You never have to ask,” he kisses the side of her head and then pulls back, “I’ll go speak to Dave and then we’ll go home to see our little girl.” 

She nods, smiling tightly at him as she pulls back, her arms tight across her chest to hold herself together until he can do it for her again.

___

It feels like the longest flight of her life. Longer than the one that had brought her back from Paris, the flight that had brought her back from the dead, out of the place she had been hiding in the shadows for months whilst she waited for her demons to find her. 

This is worse. Her fear not for herself, or coming face to face with the man who had torn through her life like it was made of something no stronger than paper, but for her little girl. For her son who had seen his sister get so sick so quickly. It was paralysing in a way she could never have anticipated, as if her heart was outside of her body. Walking around in the form of an 8-year-old boy and an 18-month-old little girl, a price she’d happily pay for the rest of her life in exchange for the joy she felt as a result of being their mother. 

As soon as Aaron has parked up outside the hospital she’s out of the car, walking towards the entrance with a determination in her step. Aaron catches up with her, his hand wrapping around hers when he makes it to her side. He squeezes her hand, his fingers linked through hers as they walk into the hospital. They approach the nurse's station, Emily’s shoulders feeling tighter by the second. 

“Excuse me,” Aaron says, his smile frustratingly polite despite the circumstances when one of the nurses looks up at him, “Our daughter was brought in earlier, Ines Hotchner?” 

The nurse nods, typing on the computer in front of her before she looks back up at them, “She’s been admitted for observation,” she says, smiling reassuringly at them, “Paediatrics is on the fourth floor. She's in room 4102, the elevators are just down the hall.”

“Thank you,” Aaron replies, nodding before he turns around, his arm around Emily’s shoulders as he leads her towards the elevators, “Let’s go see our little girl.” 

They take the stairs, both too anxious to wait for the elevator now they are so close. They give Ines’ details to the paediatrics desk, and for a moment Aaron is sure he’s going to have to stop his wife from yelling at a nurse for just doing his job when he asks for identification. 

Emily takes a moment outside of the room they are directed to, giving herself a second to collect herself, aware that neither Jack nor Ines needed her to be a mess in front of them. Aaron places his hand on his wife’s shoulder, reminding her that he’s there, that he always would be. She puts her hand over his, hoping she can press her gratefulness, her love, from her skin into his. 

She never quite had the words for how she felt about him, for how she felt about her life. She’d grown up surrounded by people who never said what they really thought, every word calculated and purposeful. It left her unable to always express herself in the way she desperately wanted to, the words I love you never feeling enough. Not even scratching the surface of how much she loved him and their children, how she would burn the world down to protect them. 

She blows out a breath as she walks in, her heart seizing in her chest as she sees Ines, the toddler seemingly smaller than she usually was in the large bed she was sleeping in. Jack was asleep on the couch in the corner of the room, a blanket pulled over him and his arms hugging a cushion to his chest. Jessica turns to face the door as it opens, a relieved smile spreading over her face as she sees Emily and Aaron, 

“Hi,” she says as she stands up, walking over and pulling Emily into a brief hug, “I’m so sorry, I should have brought her here sooner.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Emily says, hugging her back, “There’s no way you could have known what would happen.” 

Aaron stores the comment away, making a mental note of it to remind her later when she inevitably blames herself for this, forever holding herself to a standard she’d never use against anybody else. Her concerns about turning into her own mother, something he knew was impossible, always lingering just below the surface. Breaking free through barely healed skin, pushing up through an always festering wound, whenever she considered herself a failure as a parent. 

Emily disconnects from Jessica and walks over to the bed and sits on the edge of it. She looks at Ines, who, apart from the IV in the back of her hand, her soft skin bruised on her arm where she’d clearly had blood tests. Emily reaches out and brushes some of her unruly hair from her forehead, the softness of it against her fingers easing some of the tightness in her chest. 

“The doctor said she’s fine, she should be able to go home tomorrow,” Jessica says, and Emily turns to look at her. 

“Thank you, Jess. For looking after her and staying until we could get here,” Aaron says, pulling his former sister-in-law into a hug. 

“Of course I stayed,” Jess says, rolling her eyes at him as she pulls back, her voice incredulous, “She’s my niece.”

Emily is about to respond, about to tell Jess how grateful she is regardless, how nice it was to know that her daughter was with someone who loved her until she could be there, but she’s cut off by a tiny voice. 

“Mama?” 

She turns back to look at Ines, forcing a smile on her face as her eyes meet her daughters, “Hi sweet girl,” she says, stroking her hand over her hair again, “Mama is here,” she says, her voice shaking a little, “How are you feeling?”

Ines shrugs, “Icky.” 

Emily chokes on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh and she leans forward to kiss the toddler's forehead, “I’m sorry, baby. Mama is here now,” she says, not sure if she was reassuring herself more with the repetition of her assurance or her little girl. Ines grasps at the collar of her shirt, pulling her towards her with more force than she thought an 18-month-old should have. “Do you want me to snuggle with you?” 

“Snuggle,” Ines says, nodding as she tugs on Emily’s shirt even more, and Emily kisses her forehead before she stands, carefully rearranging the little girl in the bed before she joins her. More of the tension in her chest unfurls as Ines leans against her, curling up in her mother’s arms, the little girl releasing a sigh as she rests her forehead against Emily’s neck. Ines looks over at Aaron, her smile wide like it always was when she looked at her father, “Hi Dada.”

“Hi princess,” he says, closing the gap between him and the bed as he leans in to kiss his daughter’s forehead, “Are you feeling better than earlier? Aunt Jessie said you weren’t very well.” 

She shrugs, “Head hurt.” 

“It’s all better now, though?” Emily asks, lost in her own world with her daughter, her awareness reduced to just the two of them in the bed for a few moments. She smiles as Ines nods against her neck, and she kisses her forehead, “Good. Mama loves you.” 

Ines snuggles into her even further, getting heavier as she starts to fall asleep again, her words slurring together. 

“Love Mama.”

___

They convince Jack to go home with Jess when he wakes up. It takes a while, the boy resistant to leave his sister’s side, but he eventually relents when they promise he’ll see her tomorrow. Emily and Aaron both stay at the hospital, both of them not wanting to let their little girl out of their sight, the latter using his badge to convince the nurses to let them break the usual ‘one parent overnight’ rule. 

Aaron sits next to the bed, his focus on his wife as she watches their daughter sleep, her hand rubbing circles on her back. 

He remembered when they found out they were having a girl, the mix of excitement and fear that had crossed over his wife’s face as she asked the doctor to repeat herself something that was burned into his memory. She’d quietly admitted to him later that same day that she was worried history would repeat itself, that she was cursed to be the same as her mother. He’d assured her it wasn’t the case, that she was already a better mother than hers had ever been, that she had been since the moment she’d stepped into that role in Jack’s life. 

He knew moments like today she’d focus on the parts that seemingly confirmed her worst fears. That the distance between her and their daughter when she was sick was evidence that she was everything she hadn’t wanted to be. She wouldn’t acknowledge the fact that she’d got to her side as quickly as she could, that she’d glared at the air steward on the plane when he tried to make a joke about her nervous energy, or that she’d left work without even thinking about it. Her children her priority, the most important part of her life, which was something Elizabeth had never seemingly been capable of. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and quiet as he makes sure he doesn’t wake up Ines. 

Emily hums and looks up at him, her lips pressed together, “I…” she swallows thickly, “I don’t know,” she says honestly, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop herself from crying. She presses her lips together and her chin shakes, the emotions that had only been skin deep all evening finally starting to escape, “I wasn’t here, Aaron. She needed me and I wasn’t here.” 

It feels like her chest cracks open, the pressure of everything she’d stuffed in there breaking free, her ribs aching as she tries, and fails to suppress a sob. 

“Oh, Em,” he says softly, encouraging her to stand up, helping her lay Ines down on the bed so she stays asleep. He wraps his arms around his wife and leads her over to the couch, tugging her close and holding her tightly. She holds him back just as fiercely, her hands grasping fistfuls of his jacket as she sinks into him, her cheek against his chest as she keeps her eyes on Ines, her view of the little girl blurred by the constant stream of tears that didn’t seem to be going anywhere how they’d started, “She’s okay. She’s perfectly safe.” 

She pulls back to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed, “She had a seizure Aaron,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek to try to feel anything other than the tension in her chest, “Our little girl had a seizure and I wasn’t there. I was working. I knew she wasn’t well this morning, I knew it and I still went to work. What kind of mother does that make me?” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice firm but kind as he cups her cheek, forcing her to look at him, “You could never have known that would happen. As soon as you knew something was wrong you were on your way here,” he says, stroking her skin, his calluses against her skin soothing, a reminder of his strength, of his love for her, “You’re an excellent mother.”

She sighs, “Honey-”

“I won’t argue with you about this,” he cuts over her, a soft smile on his face, “You’re an excellent mother,” he repeats, “And I know the two youngest Hotchners would agree.” 

She chokes out a sound, not sure what to call it herself, and she nods, too tired to argue with him, wanting nothing more than him to be right. She leans forward and presses her forehead into his shoulder, “Thank you for coming with me, I think I would have killed that air steward if you weren’t there.” 

“You definitely would have,” he quips, kissing the top of her head as he rubs his palm up and down her back, “And you don’t have to thank me,” he says, encouraging her to look at him, “Our family is always my priority too. No matter what.” 

She nods and leans forward, stamping her lips against his. It was moments like this that made her grateful to be the second person who was lucky enough to love him, to build a family with him. That he had learnt from his past, his complete lack of hesitation to come with her today all the proof she would ever need. It isn’t lost on her that he’s held back how he’s feeling, his own fear at their daughter being sick today buried deep in his chest whilst he helped her. 

She’d make sure she gave him the space as soon as he needed it, at the first sign that he was letting his well-constructed barriers down. 

“I love you,” she says, running her fingers through his hair. 

“I love you too,” he says, kissing her before he wipes tears from her cheeks, “Do you want to lay down with her again and try and get some sleep?” 

“God yes,” she replies, kissing him once more before she stands up, she looks at the bed and sighs, “I don’t think we’ll all fit.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, carefully lifting Ines so Emily can get back into the bed, her shoes kicked off and under the bed, “I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

She frowns at him as he settles Ines back onto her chest, “Honey, your back-”

“It will be okay for one night,” he says, even though they both know it’s not true, “Worth it so I can keep an eye on my girls.” 

She rolls her eyes at him as he tucks the sheet around them both, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, smiling softly as Ines shifts in her sleep, “Sweet, but ridiculous.” 

He presses a kiss against each of their foreheads and settles in the chair next to the bed, “Get some sleep, baby,” he says, “And tomorrow we’ll take her home and spoil her.”

“You always spoil her,” she murmurs, kissing the top of Ines’s head as she closes her eyes, the smell of her daughter’s hair soothing her. 

Aaron chuckles in response, watching as she falls asleep, their daughter safely curled up in her arms, “You’re one to talk.” 

-x-

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