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#IM BARELY AWAKE BUT THIS WAS GREAT

sixosix · 8 months

Text

kissing lyney awake doesn’t really work. wc 600. fluff, established relationship, more lyney content bc i need him to come home im so desperate its not funny

lyney sleeping is the only moment you see him at ease. he portrays a convincing act—laid-back, too friendly, performatively elegant, and it’s these that help you forget lyney is nothing like that at all on quiet days.

seeing him breathe slowly, eyes shut, and body language openly comfortable, makes your chest grow inexplicably warm.

there are no curtains. no cards, doves, or leather gloves. just you, him, and the bed with your legs tangled. you’re unable to help yourself, placing a delicate kiss on the apple of his cheek. it’s barely there: just a faint brush of your lips.

so it’s your surprise when lyney’s eyes fly open and a hand reaches for the back of your head before you can pull back.

“did i wake you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

lyney opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a quiet, hoarse groan.

“sorry,” you laugh gently, cupping his face.

“mm… no, don’t be,” lyney says, his eyes threatening to flutter shut from their sluggish weight. the consonants don’t form perfectly in his state. “it seems as… as if even in sleep my body reacts to your kisses eagerly.”

“you sure? it seems like your body seemed rather alarmed, actually.”

lyney smiles tiredly, that alone expressing more than his words could ever try. “if i were alarmed, i would’ve pushed you away. couldn’t you tell that i’m…” his eyes wander down. he makes an indecipherable noise.

“are you going to wake me up like that every morning?” he asks with a slow smirk.

“you told me to wake you up around this time to prepare,” you say, covering your mouth, much to his displeasure. “focus on the clock, not my lips.”

lyney almost whines, like the drama queen he is.

“up, lyney. and let go of my head.”

“no.” he pushes you closer, but his mouth only collides with the back of your fingers. “the cruelty. you’re heartless. kicking a man when he’s down—does this make you happy? do you derive pleasure from making a pleading fool out of this great, renowned magician?”

you successfully slip out of his grasp. he ends up clawing at air. “if you have the energy to complain needlessly, you have the energy to get up.”

lyney sighs heavily. he pulls himself up and pouts at you, like you’ve kicked a stray puppy in front of his eyes. he might be the stray puppy in question.

“if you can kiss me awake, you can also kiss me to stand up.” he yawns halfway through the sentence.

“we won’t get much done if you get your hands near me.”

instead of grinning smugly like you expect him to, lyney’s eyes crinkle alone with his soft smile. he pulls you in by your hips, pressing his forehead against yours and breathing deeply.

“hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, brushing a cheek as his eyes fall shut once again. it doesn’t take even a second before he melts back into the sheets. “you’re still tired, huh? good job performing yesterday. must’ve been exhausting. you can sleep for five more minutes.”

“mmh,” is what he replies with, pawing your waist to ask for something.

you kiss his nose, and his smile widens just a fraction—just enough of what his lax body can do. he later reveals that it was all a trick to make you kiss him awake all over again, but you know him a little better than that.

a/n ok anyway THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE LYNEY LIKERS im glad u all like reading for lyney as much as i do writing for him

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

Note

PLEASE! I BEG THAT YOU WRITE AN MIGUEL O’HARA FICTION! IM BEGGING!! PLEASEE!!!! (Sorry if I come off harsh)

Ask and you shall receive!! A quick thing I wrote (not proofread), thanks for the ask <3

Touch

Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel misbehaves. You teach him a lesson. part one maybe?? idk y'all let me know if u want a pt 2. (Part 2 is out!)

warnings: pwp!! light f-dom, angry (ish??) sex, grinding, slight m-sub, (m) begging. mostly just filth. I am soooo desperate for any character played by Oscar Isaac. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I apologise in advance, native Spanish speakers. Me and reverso tried our best.

wc: 1.4k

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

A great crash from the workshop has you running from all the way in the kitchen, apron still on.

He looks tired, hunched over his desk. Great hulking shoulders hang, tense in the dim light of a single lamp.

"Miguel?" It's soft, in the metallic hum of lights. "Everything okay?"

He shifts, looking over his shoulder at you. "M'sorry for the noise mi sol, just tired."

"...maybe it's time to call it a night, baby."

He waves you off with a flick of the wrist. "Give me ten minutes, I'll come to bed."

"That's what you said half an hour ago, Miggy." It's under your breath but loud enough that his super senses pick it up.Your voice is fraught, frustrated - no doubt at the nights he'd spent away from you. Whether coming back late from tinkering in his workshop, or on the streets; he'd meet you fast asleep in bed, and wake up to an early morning rush. Either way, he seemed like a stranger in your own home; consumed with his work. It was taking its toll.

You pad back, returning to the kitchen in silence. You clean up the remnants of a dinner Miguel had picked at, sighing. You loved him, and you knew he loved you; but he lived in his own world sometimes. Sure, the world needed him; but what about you? After everything you had given each other, how could he discard you so easily?

It's only after a while Miguel realises the noises of you clearing up have long subsided, that he heads into the kitchen to investigate. It's meticulously clean, your apron hanging up on its peg by the door. On the counter, the remainder of his dinner boxed up in tupperware, with a post-it-note on the lid. 'For Miggy <;3' , it reads.

His heart aches as he walks towards your room. You're dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, knees drawn and curled up into yourself. He slides into bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Mi vida?" He mumbles. "Mi vida, I know you're awake."

You respond with an unceremonious grunt, back still turned. You're mad at him, and he deserves it.

"I'm sorry." He says, listening to the rise and fall of your chest in the dark. He sits up. Sighing, he cradles your arm, tracing circles into the flesh. Gentle, and oh so soft. "I'm an idiot, you know that. I fucked up. Couldn't see how much you were hurting."

You stir, turning to face him. In the neon lights that stream into your room, his face falls. He brings a hesitant hand to cup at your cheek.

"Say something. Please." Imperciptably, he watches your eyes fall to his lips.

You kiss him, passionate and hot and angry. He can barely breathe when you envelope your plush lips around his, snaking your hand towards his back. You claw at his shirt, raking a hand into his hair. When you separate, it's obscene; a sliver of saliva still connecting his lips to yours. His scarlet eyes are low as he licks his lips; chasing your taste. You both sit up.

"You haven't touched me in weeks, Miguel." Your voice is dangerously low, hand wrapped around his neck.

He wraps strong hands around your waist, guiding you to straddle him. For once, he's grateful for the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt - thin around the apex of your pebbled nipples. He paws at your hips, hands trailing towards your bare thighs. Just as they come to rest towards their crook, you snatch his hands away.

"Let me make it up to you," He hisses at the contact, leaning into your touch. "Por favor, sólo una probadita, just a taste, my love."

"No touching." Dramatic, he protests, cursing in Spanish before you bring a thumb to his mouth to silence him.

"No. Touching."

Eyes lidded, looking up at you, it takes everything not to break; you fight the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper praise into the crook of his neck. Instead, you coax your thumb into his mouth; as he swirls his tongue around it, like he would on your clit. Miguel savors it like the sweetest honey, grateful you'll even touch him considering how he's been acting.

He swells in his pants, hard as the crotch of his sweats graze your bare pussy. Beautiful tits pressed against his chest, you draw small circles with your waist against the seat of his crotch. Precum spills as his hips jump up to meet you, desperate for contact.

Immediately, you stop. With a pop, you pull your thumb from his mouth and Miguel moans at the loss.

"Mierda. Baby, please-"

"No. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to use you to get off. You're gonna watch, if you're lucky. And then I'm…" You swirl your hips, causing him to groan. "... going to bed."

"¿Entiendes?" You croon, spiteful in the slow sway of your hips. "Do you understand, Miguel?"

"-f-fuck, ok, ok-" Desperately nodding, he grips the sheets by his side. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he slumps his head on your shoulder. God, he's trying so, so hard not to cum right there; turned on by the lull of your sweet voice. He likes it when you get angry and treat him like a toy - painfully hard at the way you light him on fire. Everything about you; your scent, the way you taste, the grip you have in his hair; turns his senses up to eleven.

You grind on his crotch, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder. Plush lip tucked under your teeth, it takes all his willpower not to capture you in another kiss: hungry and consuming and overpowering. He can tell you're serious; everytime he grinds his crotch into yours, you will yourself to stop and tighten your grip.

"Miguel…" You warn, moaning softly into his ear. "I m-meant what I said…"

When his hips snap up the third time; you growl, frustrated. Both your hands move to his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress so he's on his back. He looks good like this; at your mercy and putty under your hands. You push up the lip of his shirt to expose his midsection and pull down his sweats. A happy trail snakes down to his neatly trimmed cock; its deliciously curved tip springing free. Precum covers his cock, so when you slide him between the lips of your pussy it glides like he was made for you. You bite down on your lip so hard, it almost bleeds.

With this new angle, you plant your hands by his head; grinding your clit onto his dick desperately. The slick sounds drive Miguel crazy, and when his hands fly to your waist to help you along, you don't move them.

"You're s-so pretty, mi vida… prettiest thing I've ever seen. Need it. Need you. Use me, please, hump my cock like I'm your toy, p-please, please…"

He knows your body better than you do. You're close, dangerously near the edge. With the way your thigh shakes and the spasms that slow your rhythm, he knows. You don't break eye contact with him under you, moaning as you slide on his cock. Desperate, you chase that sweet spot, electric when he angles your hips just so…

"M'gonna cum, fuck, Miggy-" You writhe desperately. He's close, too, shamelessly humping your pussy like a feral animal. He can taste it; white hot at the tip of his tongue. Finally, you cum: a leg shaking, biting orgasm that rips through you. You clench around nothing, but it's not enough for him. So, so close; and it's ripped away from him when you come down, in the aftermath.

Unceremoniously, you pant and roll off of him; spread-eagle atop the sheets. Miggy curses softly at his ruined orgasm - still rock hard. He's glad you feel good, but he knows he can make you feel better, broad hands pawing at your hips. You slap them off, and turn your back pointedly. The slope and curve of your ass taunts him.

"Fuck off, Miguel."

"Baby, I'm sor-"

"Fuck. Off."

Sighing, he takes the hint. Grabbing the pillow, he pads off to the sofa in your living room, adjusting his hard on. He'd give you your space, tonight, and begin to win you back tomorrow morning. He needs you, more than you'd ever know.

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #cuz i can't help myself #kat_writes😼#miguel o hara x reader

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luna0713hunter · 7 months

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Late night talk

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : late night at Going Merry always makes you feel lonely. Fortunately,your new friend and crew mate is there to keep you company.

Warnings : slightly suggestive (?), mutual pinning and kissing!

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

Nights at Going Merry,are hard to spend alone.

The feeling of gentle waves hitting the wooden surface,the cool breeze giving you a slight shiver as you lean against the railing and rest your head on your folded arms;makes you feel slightly lonely.

Maybe its because you've just recently joined the StrawHats crew;away from your hometown where you spent all your life in. You loved your family and friends,but you just couldn't let this opportunity slide. Not when Luffy extended his hand to you,and treated you like family, like someone who was talented and worth giving a chance.

And you wouldn't let go of that hand. No.

So you joined the StrawHats,in hopes of finding your own meaning of life, and help Luffy and everyone else to the journey of One Piece.

But still, everything was fairly new to you. Spending all your time on a ship with nothing but deep blue around you,with the company of people you just recently met;your captain a sweet guy,but kinda loud. Ussop the same as Luffy. Nami a great girl, but you were kinda shy around her. The new cook,Sanji,the sweetest guy but he was always busy in the kitchen where you didnt even dare to step a foot in. And your last Crew mate-

"what're you doing up so late?"

Zoro Roronoa

The guy you've been tiptoeing around since the very first second you laid your eyes on him. To say you had a crush was an understatement;you were hopelessly in love with the swordsman.

You give him a sheepish smile as you try to look anywhere expect his eyes.

"i- uh, couldn't sleep?"

Zoro merely stares at you before slowly making his way towards where you're standing. There's a bottle of wine in his hand as he adjusts his three swords on his hip and leans against the railing as well. He raises the bottle to his lips and glances at you from the corner of his eye.

"you want some?"

When you shake your head,he only shrugs.

"more for me."

he starts drinking,and you watch as his Adam's apple bob,you immediately look the other way when your heartbeat rises.

There was a damn reason as why you kept avoiding being alone with Zoro in the first place.

You couldn't keep the heat from spreading across your cheeks and neck;and your heart seemingly beating out of your chest.

it was no secret that Zoro wasnt a huge fan of talking either. The number of time where you managed to hold a conversation with the guy without him dozing off, barely reached five fingers. And your massive crush didn't help.

So you just stood there silently, listening to the sound of the ocean and Zoro downing the bottle of wine. The silence was so uncomfortable,you could feel the awkwardness in the air.

You just prayed to gods that Zoro would start a conversation.

"so,what kept you awake tonight?"

And gods seem to have nothing better to do tonight.

You dangle your arm from the side of the ship; watching as small droplets of water slightly soaking your fingers.

"i guess...i just miss my hometown."

At that,Zoro raises a neatly trimmed eyebrow ,and again,offers you the almost empty bottle of wine. At that,you let out a small giggle,cheeks flushing because he looks absolutely adorable.

"i dont wanna drink!"

"But you said you miss your hometown. That sounds like a good enough reason for a drink to me."

You merely shrug and grin at him

"guess im not as alcoholic as you are,oh the greatest swordsman alive."

Zoro rolls his eyes at you,and empties the rest of the wine before throwing the bottle in the ocean. You watch as it vanishes in the dark night,before a faint SPLASH is heard when it hits the water down below.

"Sanji's gonna be mad at you. You know he hates throwing trash in the ocean."

"you have any more trash on you then?"

And you laugh, carefree and happy. For a moment there,you seem to forget how lonely you felt not too long ago.

Because thats how Zoro was;he was a quiet man,but had the biggest heart you knew. He would always stay at the corner,but never once taking his eyes off of his friends.

And you were so damn lucky to have him by your side.

You gently bump your shoulder to his; slowly moving closer to his side.

"so why were you awake?"

He spares you a glance before look at another side.

"no reason."

"Zoro, c'mon. You take every chance you get to take a nap. You cant be awake for no reason."

You hear him huff annoyingly at you;the sound making you grin winder. And you do the best thing you know:

Annoy the shit out of him

You start with poking his bicep;trying not to drool at the way his muscles tense under your touch,before moving up to his cheek and increase the speek of your poking.

But you could only go for long,before suddenly Zoro's grabbing at your wrist,and with a smooth move pulls you toward him.

Where your faces are inches away,and you can feel his breath fanning on your skin

You swallow loudly, trying to pull back and put some distance between yourselves,but he holds on tight;not too tight to hurt,but enough to keep you in your place. He moves his face impossibly closer,and his warm lips brush against your heated cheeks.

"you dont wanna mess with me," he murmurs;his voice raw with something you can't put a finger on, "I'm a dangerous guy."

Maybe its the adrenaline in your veins,or maybe its because its late at night and nights always made you bolder. So you turn your head slightly so your nose in brushing against his cheekbone,and catch his eyes.

"and what if i like to play with danger?"

Zoro lets out a low chuckle;his eyes shifting to your lips and his hand slowly resting on your hip

"Then dont say i didnt warn ya."

And then his lips are on yours.

Your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you close;your hands finding their ways to his hard chest,and then around his neck to pull him in. Zoro lets out a groan,and his hold on you tightens more.

With one hand resting on your hip and the other traveling up and down your spine,he pulls away to let you breath for only a second before diving back in.

Because Zoro was always drunk,but your lips might be his favorite thing to get drunk on from now on

You dont know how much time has passes before you pull away;both of you panting heavily and Zoro places small kisses on your cheeks and temples.

"you didnt answer the question, y'know."

You feel him pause against your skin and you grin.

"what question?"

"why were you awake?"

Zoro groans but when you tug at his hair,he just hides his face in your neck and when he speaks next,you feel his lips touching your sensitive skin.

"saw you space out alot at dinner and then you didnt go to sleep. Didnt want to leave ya alone."

With the confession,your heart flutters and butterflies fill your stomach. You card your fingers through his green locks and move his face so you can plant a loving kiss on his lips.

"thank you,Zoro."

"the pleasure is all mine."

And when he kisses you next,its filled with laughter and happiness.

Nights at Going Merry,are hard to spend alone.

But when you kiss Zoro until the sunrise,you cant help but wish for it to last longer.

If it meant to spend it with your love, you'll gladly wait for skies to turn dark.

#zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #opla x reader #opla zoro x reader #one piece live action x reader

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demonpiratehuntress · 4 months

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baby (name)! (Mihawk, Buggy, Shanks, Brook, Chopper)

featuring - Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader, Buggy x F!Reader, Shanks x F!Reader, Brook x F!Reader, Chopper x F!Reader

summary - you somehow get turned into a baby and they have to spend 24 hours babysitting you

warnings - my first time writing for ALL of these characters, so i'm sorry if i get their characters wrong! im only 416 episodes into the anime. i tried my best!

a/n - this was requested by @faioula16, i hope you like it!

MIHAWK

This could honestly go either way. This guy is unpredictable and even you never know what his next move will be. But you're his faithful and loving girlfriend, so there are some exceptions when it comes to you. Like when some deranged devil fruit user turns you into a baby, and Mihawk could have had someone else take care of you, but he wanted to do it himself. He was curious, now that it was you who was an infant.

But that may also be because a witness to the scene had expressed fear for infant you, saying that Mihawk was too cold and ruthless to take care of a baby. He didn't need to prove otherwise, and he didn't want to, but something just gnawed at him. Protectiveness, maybe. You were in such a vulnerable state right now, only he could protect you and care for you.

It had absolutely nothing to do at all with the fact that you looked so adorable staring at him with your big (eye colour) eyes, reaching out to tap his because the strange colour fascinated you. No, it had nothing to do with how cute your excited squeal was every time he picked you up or looked at you. He was absolutely not entranced by your cute little smile or how you clung to him with little hands that could barely hold his one finger. Absolutely not.

Mihawk is actually a pretty good babysitter. But only for you. He will sit and read to you with you on his lap, trying not to smile when you giggle and smack the book, always catching you when you lunged forward excitedly and almost fell off his lap. He will never finish the story, but he reads to you anyway because you seem to like it...for a little while.

"(Name), no!"

He almost had a heart attack when he set you down for one second to put the book away, and you almost fell off the table because you were trying to crawl to him. Your eyes filled with tears when he yelled, even if he hadn't meant to sound angry. His gaze softened, and he picked up and cradled you against his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you. You're fine, little one."

And then you really are fine, your little body comforted by his actions and words. They lull you into sleep, and soon you rest on his shoulder and fall into a deep sleep, gripping his shirt collar tightly in your tiny fist.

"Sleep well, (Name)."

When you awake, in your usual adult form, you're too nervous to suggest it, but thankfully Mihawk is thinking the same thing.

"I think I'd like a little you or me to keep me company."

BUGGY

Buggy is horrible with children. I mean he's not great with people, but he is absolutely, terrifyingly not good with kids at all. So when you were somehow turned into a tiny human being who could barely stand on two legs, he was shocked. And slightly scared, though he would never admit it. You were the only person he genuinely liked, so he tried not to be too...rough, with your little form. Picking you up was as far as he got, but even then he held you out awkwardly like a football.

And then you squealed and happily reached for his nose, the bright red circular appendage attracting your attention instantly. Now, Buggy was sensitive about his nose, but he let you touch it. A testament to how much he liked you. And, if he were being honest, you were actually kind of cute squeezing his nose like that until he couldn't breath-

Exhale out the mouth.

When he remembered he could use his mouth to breathe, he smiled a little at how much you were enjoying yourself playing with his nose. You even touched his makeup and all his markings, out of curiosity. Your eyes were bright with confusion but also fascination, and it did something weird to Buggy. Made him feel...warm inside?

Then he decided to, experimentally, see what your reaction to his devil fruit would be in this tiny form. He set you down on the floor again, and then detached his hand. Your eyes went wide and you instantly covered your eyes with your small hands, your bottom lip trembling. He panicked, tripping over himself and falling into a tangled heap in front of you. You peeked between your fingers to see this, then burst out into cute laughter. Buggy almost glared at you, but then remembered you were just a baby and instead picked himself up and smiled - or rather tried his best not to smile like a maniac - at you.

Then you saw his floating hand, and grabbed it.

"No no, (Name), that's not-"

You stuck his fingers in your mouth, and he groaned. You just giggled innocently, and only then did he realise his devil fruit could be a source of entertainment for you. He detached multiple limbs and floated them around, watching as you squealed in glee and crawled around trying to catch them.

Were you actually having fun because of him?

When he finally put his body back together again, you pouted but crawled up to his leg and hugged it, gurgling happily as if to thank him. He was stunned. He slowly picked you up and you offered him a toothless smile, before yawning. Still unsure, he laid you on his shoulder and awkwardly patted your back, but that seemed to work because you slowly fell asleep.

When you woke up again, finally an adult, you grinned at him, "Shall we make you a father?"

SHANKS

It was his fault, really. He picked the fight, contrary to his usual behaviour. But that guy had said something about you, and he couldn't ignore it, so of course he acted. And now here you were, a tiny baby fisting his shirt in your tiny hand and looking up at him with big, curious (eye colour) eyes. He had experience with children, of course, having spent some time with Luffy. But you were so small, so delicate.

"Captain, what-"

He ignored the confused questions from his crew as he brought you back on board the ship, immediately taking you to his quarters. It shouldn't last long, he reminded himself, but he still felt guilty. Though that quickly disappeared when you giggled and crawled around his quarters, knocking things over and hiding with a loud giggle when he caught you.

"Oi, (Name)!" He tried to sound stern, he really did, but his laugh have his mood away. You stuck your head out from under his bed and stuck your tiny tongue out at him, and he burst out laughing. "Oh, you're cute, sweetheart."

He lifted you up again and you squealed excitedly and reached for his hair, the bright colour attracting your attention. He grinned and put you on his head, keeping his hands on your small waist, and soon felt you tug on his red strands. You were giggling and pulling and kicking your legs happily, so he endured the pain just for your sake. It was very cute how you thought his hair was a toy, and by the time you got tired of it, it was a mess. Strands were everywhere, out of place, sticking out...but it didn't matter to him.

Because now you were looking at him with your big, innocent eyes and suckling on your hand as he cradled you against his chest. He gently rubbed your back and pressed a soft kiss to your tiny tuft of (hair colour) hair.

"You're so pretty even as a baby, (Name)."

You rewarded him with a sloppy kiss on his cheek, making him laugh. He sat on his bed with you still in his arms, watching as you grew tired and offered him the cutest sight - the tiniest of yawns.

"Sleep, little one."

He gently rocked you to sleep, reassuringly and soothingly patting your small back as you drifted off on his shoulder. He felt warm inside, as if a small fire had been lit inside him. He knew what it was.

And when you woke up in adult form, he grinned at you, "Let me give you a baby, sweetheart."

BROOK

Brook has experience with babies. Maybe not human babies, but babies nonetheless. He knows a human baby is very different to a whale baby, but he figures that there can be similarities too. Such as entertainment, which is his area of expertise. So when he looks down at his feet to see baby you tugging on his pants, he is somewhat prepared. He has no idea how you were turned into a baby, of course, but he's not complaining because you are so, so adorable.

"What happened to (Name)?" Franky asked the skeleton, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing important!" Was Brook's gleeful reply, followed by a laugh when you somehow crawled on top of his afro and knocked his hat off so you could take its place.

"Nothing imp-" Franky sighed. "Do you even know how to look after a baby?" Franky's eyes worriedly drifted to where you sat upon the skeleton's head, tugging on his afro and squealing with delight. You wobbled precariously.

"No, but it can't be any different to a baby whale!"

Franky would have commented on that, if you hadn't slipped off Brook's head. The cyborg easily caught you, before holding you out to Brook, "Don't let her sit on your head."

"Noted."

For the rest of the day, Brook occupied you by sitting you down on his bed and playing music for you, telling you stories about Laboon and his crew, and about his experiences in the Grand Line before you guys found him. He sang all sorts of songs, played all sorts of melodies, while you giggled and clapped your hands excitedly, bouncing up and down. Brook smiled, the sight warming heart - oh, but he doesn't have a heart. He hardly ever got tired, but you prompted him to play for hours on end, until he really was exhausted. So he picked you up, settled on his bed, and lay you on his lap before humming a tune. You slowly drifted off to sleep, and Brook smiled.

He hoped he could play for one of the crew's babies one day.

CHOPPER

Another island, another mishap, another adventure. No trip is ever boring with the Straw Hats, and this was again proven when an unfortunate encounter with a devil fruit user who could change people's ages led to you being turned into an infant. And that's how you found yourself cradled in Sanji's arms, with Chopper trying to get a good look at you all throughout the walk back to the Sunny.

"Chopper, she's fine," the cook tried to assure the doctor, but Chopper was having none of it.

He was so worried, because no one was equipped to take care of a baby, and he cared about you so much that now you were a baby, he was becoming overprotective. As soon as Sanji set you down somewhere safe for Chopper to examine you, he was grabbing his bag and bringing out all his different tools. He checked all your vitals and made sure you were first and foremost healthy, before he could consider anything else.

Then you touched his blue nose and widened your eyes in fascination, gurgling softly, and Chopper blushed brightly. He smiled and poked your nose back, and you let out the cutest giggle that melted the reindeer's little heart. He shifted to his humanoid form and gently lifted you up into his arms, cradling you as he gazed down at you with the utmost love, adoration and fascination he could manage. You were so tiny, even more so than him, and so so cute. Then you sneezed, looking stunned for a moment before giggling loudly. And Chopper thought there was nothing more joy-inducing than holding and watching baby you.

"Chopper, where's-oh." Nami stopped when she saw Chopper standing there just holding you, one of his fingers in your tiny hand as he cooed at you and made you giggle. She smiled softly and left the room, deciding you were in safe hands.

"You're the cutest baby in the world, (Name)," Chopper told you. You just smiled brightly, exposing your gums cause you had no teeth, and waved your small arms around happily.

Chopper was really good with you. He monitored you throughout the 24 hours, making sure you ate properly, got enough sleep and were bathed properly. He is probably the best caretaker out of all the men on this list, not only because he's doctor but he's naturally caring and nurturing. It comes like second nature to him. Besides, you were such a calm and quiet baby - except for the giggling - that you made it easy for him. He was almost sad when you fell asleep, knowing you'd be grown up again when you woke up.

But maybe one day the crew would be able to fawn over a baby everyday. Maybe one day.

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #shanks x reader #shanks x you #brook x reader #brook x you #chopper x reader #chopper x you

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levilxvr · 5 months

Text

tequila

PAIRINGS: levi x afab!reader

WARNINGS: nsfw 18+, alcohol consumption, drunk behaviour

SUMMARY: you and the captain have had something going on for the longest time. during the trip to marley, when you encounter a drunk jean trying to hit you up, levi decides to takes things into his own hands.

this took me forever hope y’all like this filthy piece of fiction😗

“come on, captain, just one shot?” eren slurs out as he motions to levi with half lidded eyes. you’re in the bar of a marleyan hotel with the scouts, enjoying drinks and basking in each others’ company. levi rolls his eyes. no way is he having one of those- the last thing he wanted was to get all silly and drunk in front of everyone.

of course, you let mikasa and sasha bribe you into having a shot of tequila. knowing your alcohol tolerance was pretty horrible, you chose to stick with one and went to hang out with levi on the side. Everyone knows you guys have something going on- it’s been like this for months, but neither of you have ever made it official.

Anyway. everything felt so much more laid back and free, you’ve got nothing to worry about and-

“hey,” levi calls softly. you barely heard him over the music blaring from the speakers, adding to the serotonin running through your veins. his hands are on your cheeks. “you’re turning red.” your face feels like it’s heating up- even warmer with his thumbs grazing the skin gently. it’s probably just the effect starting to kick in.

“must be the tequila.” you giggle a little and he sighs. The captain isn’t much of a fan of alcoholic drinks, seeing no purpose in it other than getting you drunk and horny.

“im gonna get you some water. and a juice for myself.” he tells you to stay put at the glass counter as he disappears into the crowd to find the bartender. you intend to stay there and wait for him when someone walks by and pulls you towards him with a strong arm, your body slamming against his as he lets out a sigh. Recognising the man as jean, you feel a little bit too lightheaded to do anything so you let him drag you along to the table with connie, sasha and the rest.

“feels great to unwind, huh?” connie mumbles, body flopped against the table as he struggles to keep awake. You could tell they’ve all had too many drinks based on the way they were behaving. but the foggy feeling in your brain only increased and you couldn’t resist when jean turned to your face and pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. “feels even better with this one here.” you gasp and try to wiggle out of his grip.

“jean cut it out, she might be dating captain levi!” armin jumps in, looking around. that’s right, where was levi? you recalled him wandering off to get something, but now..

oh well. he’d probably come back to this table anyways.

“want another?” sasha smirks and hands you the small glass. “same thing.”

you take it without thinking twice and down it all at one go. a little more won’t hurt, will it? after all, that’s what you were here for. to have fun. about half an hour later you don’t see any signs of levi still so you relax into jeans side and let the calming sensation drown out the rest of your thoughts.

“how many shots you had?”

you managed to slur. the question is directed to sasha but clearly jean is too intoxicated to care. “ion know, probably like four or something.” he squeezes you again. “god, connie, isn’t she sexy in this dress?” he reeks of alcohol and you shift uncomfortably.

he’s about to reply when everyone freezes.

“what’re you doing jean.”

the table goes silent and you force yourself to turn around, just to see levi standing behind you and jean with a scowl on his face. if there’s anything levi hates more than filth, it’s seeing someone else treat you as if you don’t belong to him.

“l- levi..”

he shoves jean’s arm away and picks you up, nearly collapsing when your body falls against his. “shit, you had another one didnt you?” he narrows his eyes at the empty glass, along with a dozen more scattered on the table from the others. you can only nod halfway and look at him with a lidded gaze.

“whatever. you drunken brats can continue partying till dawn. im returning back to the hotel with y/n first.” he picks you up bridal style, pushing his way through the crowd, to the lobby and up the lift to the hotel room you had to share with him for the week.

once you’re in, he places you down gently onto the bed. he takes off his black blazer and tie, helping you out of your heels as he heads to the water dispenser and hands you a glass.

“drink up. you’re gonna get a shitty hangover in the morning.” he places a hand on your back to support you as you gulp down the water, then slouch into his embrace as he envelopes you in a tight hug. the room is completely silent for a minute until you break it.

“levi, are you mad?”

“whatever for?”

“jean. ‘m sorry, my head felt so fuzzy, i couldn’t..”

“shh..it’s not your fault, it’s okay. just..watch your intake next time. who even gave you a second shot?” he has so many thoughts going through his head right now.

“sasha.”

he scoffs, but holds you as he pulls your body down while he adjusts himself into the silky pillows. “I was gonna come back earlier but hange and erwin popped by and i had to entertain them for a bit.”

“mm..”

you’re looking right into his eyes now. god, he looked so fucking cute in that white blouse and dress pants, the collar unbuttoned so you could see just the faintest bit of muscle. his hands are on your lower back, and of course he’s thinking about how pretty you look tonight.

you specially chose this black dress because he liked it, along with the lace lingerie hiding underneath the layers of ebony silk..but now wasn’t really a good time, was it? you were literally drunk at this point and the best thing to do right now would be to sleep it off. but with the way your pelvis was pressed against his, and how close your tight dress was to revealing the perfect curve of your ass…

“y/n,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. he’s recalling the sight he witnessed earlier. the way jean had an arm securely around your waist, his lips on your delicate skin, the way he was staring you down with that lustful gaze.

how dare anyone try to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. everyone knows jean is the kind to get all horny and touchy when he’s drunk. But still, you belonged to him and only him. and fuck it, he had to demonstrate that right now in order to assure himself that no one else could ever take you.

without thinking twice his lips were on yours, swallowing the soft gasp that left your own at the sudden contact. he doesn’t even wait to push his tongue past your lips, brushing against yours as the kiss deepens and his hands slide under the hem of your dress. his thumb runs circles on the plush skin of your thigh, making you grip his shoulders harder.

Everything feels more sensitive now. you can almost feel the electricity running through your veins as he pulls away, loosening the spaghetti straps as the fabric slides off your body.

his cock his nearly throbbing in his pants, pushing against the seams as he admires you. He cursed himself for not acting on his feelings sooner. he wanted to mark every inch of you, show you just how well he could love you. but with your current state he had to chide himself internally, reminding himself to go slow.

he supports you as you straddle his hips, sitting on your knees as he unclips your bra with one hand, the other tracing the laced patterns of your panties.

“you alright? can i continue?”

levi gets your nod of approval, slipping a hand down to caress the sensitive area, eliciting a small whimper from your swollen lips. your face is flushed, hair tangled from his fingers. watching him closely, you bite your lip as he presses down on your clit, rubbing tiny circles on the small bud as his free hand moves to touch the bulge in his pants.

“look at what you do to me baby,” he moans, cursing at the dark patch that’s beginning to spread on the surface of the black fabric.

minutes later he’s desperately pulling your underwear off, the cold air hitting your exposed cunt as he dips two fingers into the wetness accumulating at your slit. levi lifts them and lets the clear, sticky fluid glimmer in the warm light of the bedside lamps, then brings his fingers to his lips and shamelessly sucks off your arousal.

“tastes so sweet, now i really wanna eat you out..”

“then do it.” you almost beg. You’ve never felt this needy in your life. the way he was gazing at you as he licked off your juices from his slender fingers almost made you cum on the spot. He pushes your back down onto the mattress and spreads your legs, resting his hands on your thighs as he leans down and kisses your clit.

“look at how wet you are baby, so good for me..” he smiles against your folds and slowly starts using his tongue on you, fucking you skilfully as your hands plunge into his hair. You’re chanting his name breathlessly like a prayer as he continues eating you out until you can’t take it anymore. he starts sucking and licking your small bud, hard, as his middle finger slides into your pussy and curls against that one spot.

“levi levi levi, oh fuck!”

you feel yourself squirt on his face as he continues lapping up your juices, fingers still fucking you through your blissful orgasm as more of the clear liquid sprays onto his hand and wrist.

“shit, y/n, you’re so fucking hot, i think…”

levi pauses for a moment, unbuckling his belt and pulling off his pants. “i think you made me cum already,” he lets out a breathy groan as he stares in disbelief at the mess he made of himself. watching you cum so hard from just his fingers had him creaming himself, remains of the milky liquid running down the shaft of his red, swollen cock.

you’re breathing hard, the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you sit up and cup your palms on his cheeks.

“i want you, like really bad.”

“im all yours to take.” he smiles softly, holding you down again as he positions himself at your entrance. he slaps his cock against your wet folds, hissing because of how sore and desparate he is. he buries himself inside you immediately, watching his thick shaft disappear into your tight little cunt.

He’s whispering how much he loves you, your voice, your personality, everything. Months of love and pining poured out in the sweet words he’s breathing, his fingers twining with yours as you lift your legs so he can go deeper. There’s so much emotion in his grey eyes, maybe it’s just the alcohol, or maybe it’s because of your earlier encounter with jean and the rest. Either way, you’re still sensitive from your first orgasm and soon you feel the heat building up in your core again, walls clenching around his cock as you both reach your highs together.

“that’s it baby, look at you taking me so well, fuck..” he empties himself inside you, groaning when he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, practically sucking in his cum. You’ve never felt this good in your life, especially considering that levi has never had any prior experience.

“holy shit,” he gasps, slowly pulling out of your swollen cunt as he holds you in a loving embrace, breathlessly falling beside you. “you feeling ok?”

that’s when the dull headache hits, and you close your eyes.

“yeah just a small headache.”

he caresses your face, smiling softly. in his head there’s only two words. she’s mine. Levi leans over and presses one last kiss to your lips before you fall asleep. And he stays there with you for the rest of the night, your body tucked against his.

the next morning, you don’t feel as shitty as you expected. You down another cup of water, wash up and head downstairs to the breakfast buffet with levi. It’s nearly empty, except for a few scouts and random marleyans staying in the hotel.

“think they’re all sleeping in after last night. I’m surprised you’re feeling ok?” he raises his eyebrows while plating a croissant for you.

you laugh. “i expected a horrible hangover too. anyways, what did you plan to do today?”

“nothing much. everyone’s shacked out from last night so.. maybe go sightseeing with my girlfriend.” he plants a kiss on your cheek as you walk down to the fruit section. girlfriend. your heart warms at the name and you take his hand.

Suddenly you’re glad sasha gave you that extra tequila shot.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi x reader smut #levi smut #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #levi ackerman #this took me WAYY too lomg #i kinda like it tho #screaming without the s #levi x fem!reader

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atlabeth · 6 days

Text

dance until we're bones

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem reader

summary: you and hotch both confront a lifetime of things left unsaid when a case forces your past into the light.

a/n: so i started this. two years ago. got 1k in and left it, came back now for some reason, wrote like a freak until it was done. lol. this is quite heavy and different than most things i usually write and it is SO much longer than expected but im very proud of it 🫶 i didn't really pay attention to the canon timeline so just know that reader and hotch were in their early and late 20s in law school (90s) and early and late 30s in present day (early 2000s). title from i lied by lord huron and allison ponthier

wc: 17.1k

warning(s): a lot of angst. typical bau case stuff, murder (familicide), implied/referenced past child abuse, reader and hotch go at it basically the whole time, character death, kidnapping, slight mention of drugging, injuries, mentions of blood. i wouldn’t say a happy ending but a hopeful one

Hotch can barely stay awake.

He got the call thirty minutes to 4 a.m, and if he hadn’t already been up, he would likely be in a much worse mood. He can only hope that the rest of the team has gotten used to rude awakenings at this point.

It’s poor planning on his part—he already got out late due to extra paperwork, and once he got home, he found himself staring at the wall, and then staring at the ceiling. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to sleep on the jet. If things go the way they usually do, he won’t be out until their first night in a hotel.

He started making calls to the team on his way to the office, but to no one’s surprise, he was the first one there. He had time to wash down a shitty office coffee and get started on a second one by the time everyone’s there.

Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ all have coffees—JJ comes prepared with her own thermos, but Morgan and Prentiss fall victim to the BAU’s supply—Reid is fighting back yawns as he tries to fix a hastily made tie, Garcia is slightly less energetic than normal as she passes out files, and somehow Rossi looks the same as always.

Hotch just hopes he’s put together enough to make the team feel better about being here at an ungodly hour.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Garcia greets, setting down the last folder in front of Reid before taking her spot next to Hotch at the front. “As lovely as it is to see all of you this morning, I’m afraid that we’ve got a grisly one on our hands, hence the hour.”

“Great,” Prentiss mutters. “How bad is it?”

“Three married couples have been murdered in St. Louis, Missouri in the past two months, with the most recent one happening yesterday,” Hotch says, and Garcia grimaces as she clicks onto the pictures. “Mom and dad are killed, but the children are spared.”

“Awful lot of similarities between the parents,” Morgan says dryly as he flips through the folder. “Looks like our killer has some family issues.”

Reid nods. “The unsub likely stalks these families once they see the similarities. I’m guessing he was abused as a child, seeing as they kill the parents but keep the children alive.”

“Probably has a grudge against his father,” Prentiss remarks. “They make it out the worst every time.”

“There’s no method to the torture,” Morgan says. “It looks like he’s just trying to make it hurt as much as possible.”

“Our guy probably isn’t trained in anything, then,” Rossi says.

Reid flips to another page in the file. “Serial killers like to see their victims suffer. If he’s not torturing the mom physically, then he’s likely making her watch.”

“He doesn’t kill children, though,” JJ notes.

“Maybe he thinks he’s doing them a favor,” Reid says.

“The unsub sees himself in the kids?” Morgan suggests. “He’s doing what he didn’t get the chance to do.”

“Whatever it is, we have to keep a tight hold on this,” JJ says. “The press eats this stuff up, and the last thing we need is a terrified city making it harder to do our jobs.”

“Especially with families being killed,” Morgan murmurs.

JJ sighs. “I’ll draft something on the jet and make some calls when we land.”

Hotch nods and he closes his file. “Wheels up in thirty. I hope you’re all ready for a long day.”

The jet is silent the entire way to Missouri, full of sleeping agents trying to delay the inevitable—save for JJ scribbling down notes on a legal pad for the first thirty minutes, but even she knocks out sooner rather than later. Thankfully, Hotch manages to fit an hour in himself, though it doesn’t do very much for him. He spends the rest of the time reading through the case file.

The team settles in quickly at the city’s precinct, and Hotch takes charge as usual. The uniforms are just as tired as they are, but he makes it work. Soon enough, JJ is off to work with the local liaison to craft a narrative, Reid has situated himself in an empty conference room to get to work analyzing maps with Garcia, and Hotch and the rest go to check out the crime scene.

It’s brutal—much too brutal for this early, but Hotch forces the emotions out of it and gets to work questioning the present officers. Morgan follows suit, with Prentiss and Rossi going to investigate the rest of the house.

They don’t learn much from the officers that they don’t already know. This is the most recent crime scene—George and Marsha Springfield, undeserving of such a grisly fate. Their two kids, 8 and 9, were off visiting their grandparents in Nebraska when it happened, and though they avoided the same fate, they’re going to deal with a lifetime of guilt.

It’s all Hotch can think about as he examines the first body. The six children left to deal with the carnage, about their past and future marred against their control.

All he can think about is Jack, and the dreary fate that awaits him if his father falls in the field.

Hotch swallows his doubt and his guilt all in one and forces every thought out of his mind. He has to be unshakable for the team, for what’s left of these families, for a city on the brink of hysterics.

They’ll find whoever did this. That’s what gets him through it.

They spent early morning at the crime scene, collecting evidence and gathering information from the officers and trying to make sense of the killer’s motive. Progress is slow, partially because of the hour, but they make enough that Hotch feels comfortable moving onto the next job.

Their four a.m. start time was too early to go knock on doors and get interviews, but now it’s a more normal 10 in the morning. After a quick stop back at the station to share information with Reid, Garcia, and JJ and down a few cups of coffee, they get right back on the road.

Hotch and Prentiss take one van and Morgan and Rossi take the other, splitting up to get what they can from interviews. It’s difficult working with kids, especially with such recent trauma, so they hold off on it for now, allowing the local uniforms that have been with them for a bit longer to set things up before the BAU tries anything.

First they go to a neighbor’s house, then an alleged eye witness. They don’t get much other than personality reads, but it at least gives them the beginnings of a profile. The third place they hit is their earliest idea of a suspect.

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss reads off the file one of the local officers had put together. “Thirty-nine, born and raised in St. Charles, Missouri. High school degree, but never got to college because he was in and out of jail.”

“What has he been charged for?”

“Booked a few times for public intoxication and convicted three times for assault. Once was for third-degree assault, Missouri’s version of aggravated assault,” she says. “He got out of jail last year, and it looks like he’s been living in St. Louis for some of that.”

“Assault and drinking is a far cry from serial killing, even aggravated,” Hotch says. “What makes him a suspect?”

“Both parents are dead,” she says. “And from the looks of it, it was not a happy home while they were around. He’s got a sister, so it fits the initial theory of trying to replicate his family.”

Hotch lets out a loose breath and nods. “We’ll start there. Try and get a story from this guy, build a profile, see if it matches the one Morgan and Rossi have made for their guy.”

“And hope we pin something down before more bodies show up,” Prentiss murmurs.

They’re at their destination soon enough, and Hotch parks in an open spot on the other side of the road. His eyes dart around as they walk up to the front door, filing things away in the back of his mind.

The house number and last name—1432, Hartford—on the mailbox plagued with rotting wood. What there is of a yard is poorly cut, and a small garden of wilted flowers has their own corner, victims of the winter weather. One car is parked slightly crooked in a small driveway—there’s no garage, so at least he’s probably home. Two potted plants sit on either side of the door, thankfully alive.

“Remember,” Prentiss says as they come to a stop together, “be nice.”

“I’m plenty nice,” he murmurs, and she huffs the slightest laugh.

Hotch knocks on the door as Prentiss fishes around for her ID, and thankfully, they don’t wait long. The door cracks open after a few seconds to reveal a woman—certainly not their unsub, but something a whole lot more surprising.

You.

Your brows furrow at the sight of him, and Hotch has to hold back his shock.

You don’t live in St. Louis. And your last name certainly isn’t Hartford.

“Aaron?” you ask in disbelief, and he doesn’t even have to look at Prentiss to know the questions he’s going to get later.

He says your name, able to control his surprise with only the slightest crease of his brows giving it away, then corrects himself just as quickly. “Miss Hartford. My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner, and this is SSA Emily Prentiss. We’re here with the FBI.”

Your frown deepens as they show their IDs, and you actually take it from Hotch, skeptical eyes scanning over it for much too long. You glance back at him as you hand it back over. “What is the FBI doing here?”

Emily clears her throat as she puts her credentials away. “We’re here investigating the latest murders in St. Louis. Can we come in?”

“The murders?” you ask with exasperation. “What— what murders? And what do I have to do with them?”

Aaron notices the way your grip tightens on the door just the slightest bit, and a shred of sympathy strikes him before he speaks up.

“We’ll be able to explain everything if you let us in,” he says.

You swallow thickly in your throat, your gaze darting back to Aaron before you finally nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”

You move and Hotch and Prentiss walk inside, gesturing with a hand towards your living room as you shut and lock the door behind them. “Take a seat. Uh— do you guys need anything? Water, or coffee, or…”

You trail off, and Prentiss shakes her head. “Thank you, but that’s not needed.” She takes a seat on the sofa, but Hotch can’t stop himself from looking around the house.

It’s a small place, one story—likely rented, seeing how paintings sit on countertops and mantels rather than hanging on the wall. It has a certain charm to it, but something is off about it all.

Two styles clash—decorative pillows at odds with a filled and painted-over hole in the wall, an attempt at neutral tones ruined by dark articles of clothing scattered around, one person’s mess barely being held back by another’s cleaning efforts. You lived with someone else. Likely Lucas Hartford, possibly their unsub.

“Are you gonna sit down, Aaron?” you ask, snapping him out of his profiling haze. “Or do you want to look around some more?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat as he walks over and sits down in an open chair near Prentiss. “Just curious.”

“That makes two of us,” you say, and you cross your arms as you look at him. He notices that you don’t sit down yourself, and there’s still a coldness in your eyes. “You’re FBI now?”

He nods. “I had a change of heart.”

You huff a laugh. “Thought at least one of us would be a lawyer by now. I guess not.”

Hotch frowns, but Prentiss takes over before he can continue on that particular thread. “Miss Hartford—”

You interrupt by saying your first name, and it spurns something strange in his chest. It’s been over a decade since he’s heard your voice. “You can skip the formalities.”

Prentiss nods and repeats your name. “As you know, we’re investigating the murders that have been occuring in the St. Louis area.”

“And you think I have something to do with it?” you ask, the accusatory edge to your voice not lost on him.

“Not you,” Hotch says. “Do you know a Lucas Hartford?”

“He’s my brother,” you say, and your frown deepens. “You’re not saying—”

“No,” Prentiss interrupts, “we’re not saying anything. We’re just asking.”

And just like that, your entire stance, your visage, it all changes. Hotch can sense the walls slamming up around you, and he immediately realizes two things:

Getting information out of you is going to be much harder than planned, and you’re not anywhere near the same person you used to be.

Hotch doesn’t know what he expects, really. He graduated with the intent to prosecute for at least a decade—now, he’s with the BAU. It’s not fair to assume you’re that same girl he met in law school.

“My brother is not a murderer,” you state clearly.

“And we aren’t accusing him or you of anything—” she starts.

“Me?” you interrupt, and you let out a harsh laugh. “I’m a suspect too?”

“If you would allow Agent Prentiss to finish her sentences, you would be less upset,” Hotch says.

You glower at him, but you stay silent.

“We aren’t accusing either of you of anything,” Prentiss finishes. “We’re just trying to gather information with what little we know.”

“I know my rights,” you say, unflinching gaze still meeting Hotch’s. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Prentiss looks at him as well, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “That’s unfortunate to hear, Miss Hartford.”

“You know my name, Aaron. Use it.”

He does, and the letters feel strange on his tongue after so long. “This is a serious matter. This isn’t an accusation—we’re in the early days of this case and we need all the information we can get.”

“Ask away,” you say. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss starts. “He’s your brother?”

You nod. “He lives with me.”

He lives with me, not we live together. Makes him think that you pay for the place, he came knocking, and you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

“Why is that?” Hotch asks.

You look at him, those scrutinizing eyes attempting to peer into his soul the same way they did all those years ago. But Hotch has changed since law school, and he’s much better at guarding his emotions. It seems you are, too.

“He’s a student,” you finally say. “He goes to community college. I’m giving him a place to live while he gets his associate’s.”

“Community college and living with his younger sister at 39?” Prentiss is trying to get information out of you, even if it isn’t in the kindest way. Your jaw clenches, and he knows her words have some effect. You’ve probably heard it more than once, the way things are going.

“He’s getting his life back on track,” you say defensively. “I’m the only one left that can help him, so I am.”

“What about your parents?” she asks. “Surely they’re a better option than this.”

“Both dead,” you answer. “And no one else cares enough to help him. Are you here to do anything other than dig up my past?”

Hotch feels Prentiss’s eyes on him, likely because it’s a step in the right direction for a really shitty reason, but he can’t look away from you.

“Really?”

He knows your parents are dead—it was in your brother’s profile, and by extension it applies to you—but it still hits him.

He met your mother, had countless lunches and dinners with her. Helped her move out of her old house. Spent two Thanksgivings and a Christmas with her.

And he didn’t even know when she died.

You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself, and for the first time you look something other than defensive or standoffish. You look— well… sad.

“Mom went a few years after you graduated,” you say, looking at Hotch. “Dad went five years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Prentiss says.

You nod your thanks, the notion a bit numb.

“You never told me,” Hotch says with a slight frown.

“We haven’t talked in ten years,” you say. “Sorry that I didn’t know you still wanted updates.”

Hotch tries to think of something to say in response, but Prentiss starts getting a call and she stands up. “Excuse me.”

His jaw clenches for a moment as Prentiss ducks into a nearby bedroom, but he’s recovered by the time you look at him again. Your arms are crossed, but your expression is even.

“I take it this was as much of a surprise for you as it is for me.”

Hotch nods. “We came here looking for your brother.”

“Does your team know about our history?” you ask simply.

“No.”

“Do you want them to?”

“...No.”

You huff a laugh, your eyes narrowing a bit. “‘Course not. Probably counts as conflict of interest.”

You wait another beat, then ask another question. “How’s Haley?”

“Good, last I heard,” he says, and then he hesitates. “We’re… divorced.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

He nods. “This job isn’t easy for anyone.”

You look like you want to say more, but once again, Hotch is saved by Prentiss as she walks back in. Her phone is closed in her hand and she looks at him. “Morgan and Rossi have a lead. The chief wants everyone back at the precinct to go over everything we’ve found.”

Hotch nods again and stands up. Prentiss takes her card out of her pocket and holds it out to you.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Hartford. If you find out any information, or want to tell us anything else, please give me a call.”

“Pass that along to your brother, too,” Hotch says.

You reluctantly take the card, but you don’t look at it. “You can see yourselves out.”

Prentiss nods. “Thank you again. Have a good day, and stay safe.”

She leads the way, and Hotch follows after her. He fights the urge to look back before he shuts the door.

Prentiss looks at him as they walk back to the car, and he can only imagine what is going through her mind. But eventually she just shrugs and pulls out her phone again.

“Garcia?” Prentiss asks after she picks up.

“You’ve reached the office of all that is holy.” Penelope’s voice comes out through the speaker, and Hotch can’t help the smallest twitch of his lips. “What’s up?”

“Dig up everything you can find on Lucas Hartford,” Emily says, and her glance at Hotch does not go unnoticed. “And throw in his sister, too. He’s one of our only suspects, and we need to know if she’s in on it.”

“On it,” Garcia says. “I’ll call you back when I’m done.”

“You’re the best,” she says, and then she hangs up. They get back to the car, and it only takes Prentiss all of five seconds after they get in for her to start drilling him.

“Alright,” she says, buckling her seatbelt with a click before she sets her attention on him. “What was that back there? You two know each other?”

Hotch busies himself with his own seatbelt and starting the car, answering as casually as possible as the engine revs to life. “We were friends in law school.”

“Sure,” Prentiss nods. “The way you were around her, that’s not just ‘law school friend’ stuff.”

Hotch is once again reminded of how, sometimes, it was a downfall to constantly be around profilers. It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret.

“It’s nothing,” he says as he pulls back onto the road. “We knew each other, we fell apart, we’re here now.”

Emily hums. “Is it too far to ask if you were together?”

“Yes,” he says sternly, maybe a bit too hasty. “It is.”

“Fine,” she says breezily, and she looks out the window. “But that tension was thick.”

Hotch knows what she’s thinking. Hasn’t he been with Haley since high school, what kind of history did you and him have, were you together, would he be okay to work this case—

He doesn’t really want to answer any of them. You were a part of his past he hadn’t expected to resurface any time soon—if Hotch is being honest, he didn’t know if he would ever see you again once he graduated. Not after the way he broke things off.

You’ve changed a lot. So has he.

And now your brother is a murder suspect, and you could be covering up for him.

That’s the only thing that should be on his mind.

“For the last time,” you huff as you storm down the stairs, “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“Because you know that Mia is a lying bitch!” Cleo exclaims, following after you. “I’m sick of you stealing my clothes!”

“I’m not stealing your clothes,” Mia scoffs in your wake, just behind Cleo. “They’re too ugly for me to want anyways. I bet I wouldn’t even fit into them.”

“You are! And you’re stealing my fucking jewelry, too!” she yells. “All of my shit is going missing, and I know it’s not Little Miss Law School, so it’s got to be you!”

Mia draws out a mirthless laugh. “You are not accusing me of this.”

“I don’t have anyone else to accuse!” Cleo shouts.

They both look at you, and Mia says your name. “You have to settle this before I kill her.”

“Oh, I’ll kill you first!” she hisses. “At least I’ll get all my stuff back!”

You clench your jaw as your nails dig into your palms, and you’re about to bite back when the doorbell rings. You don’t even try to hide your sigh of relief.

“That’s Aaron,” you say as you grab your coat and your bag from the table. “I’m leaving. If you kill each other, don’t get blood on the furniture.”

You don’t give them a chance to say anything before you rush to the door, open it, and shut it behind you.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” you breathe.

“What’s going on in there?” Aaron asks, amused.

“My roommates are fighting again.” You roll your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re much more interesting.”

“You know this is a study date,” he says wryly, and you cut him off with a kiss.

“Still a date,” you murmur against his lips. “And something seriously needed.”

Aaron chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and the two of you walk to his car. “You’ve gotta get out of this house, honey.”

“I know,” you grumble. “But I can’t afford a place on my own.”

“Doesn’t have to be on your own,” he says as he opens the door for you. “It just has to be away from the girls that are making you miserable.”

“The lease ends at the end of the semester,” you sigh. “Just have to make it until then.”

“You know,” Aaron boxes you in against the car when you lean against the side of it, smiling softly at you, “I do live alone.”

“Oh yeah?” You ruffle his hair with your fingers and grin. “What are you proposing?”

He shrugs, letting his hands linger on your waist. “Just that you hate your roommates, and you don’t hate me. You could spend your time somewhere else.”

“Careful,” you warn. “You keep saying things like that and we might not make it to the library.”

“You keep saying things like that, and I might not mind,” Aaron muses.

You grin as he leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, three times as your back hits the side of his car and you card your hands through his hair. Mia and Cleo are probably killing each other inside, but you don’t really care at this point. They’ve made your life hell for a semester and a half—they can bother each other for once.

“Aaron,” you whisper against his lips, and he gets one more in between words, “I’ve got a test on Tuesday.”

“And today’s Sunday.” He nips at your neck and you laugh, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back. “You’ll be fine, honey.”

“You have one on Monday,” you remind him, and he sighs. You feel his hot breath against your neck.

“Ruining our fun in the name of schoolwork,” he says. “No wonder all your professors love you.”

“Everyone loves me,” you correct. “Including you.”

You steal one more kiss before you open your door yourself and get in, and Aaron lets out a breathy laugh.

“You’ve got that right.”

He closes your door then gets in the other side, and you’re already rifling through the glove box full of cassettes. You pull out the mixtape you made for him for your six month anniversary and pop it into the player, and Aaron smiles as the first few notes of Stairway to Heaven come on.

“You’re a threat to my grades, y’know.”

“Maybe it’s all part of my plan,” you say. “Distract you with kisses to make sure I’m a shoe-in for this fellowship.”

“A dastardly plan,” he says with mock austerity.

“I’ve been told I have to be more of a shark,” you muse. “Consider this me taking down my competition.”

Aaron laughs, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound of it. You love the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, how they soften just so, how he acts like himself around you, and not some perfected or stoic image that he thinks he needs.

Falling in love with Aaron Hotchner has been the easiest thing in the world.

“Don’t let anyone know,” he says, and he reaches over to intertwine your fingers together. “But I’ll happily fall to you every time.”

“As long as you don’t tell everyone how whipped I am for you,” you tease.

“Looks like we’ve both got reputations to keep up.”

“Looks like it.”

You share a smile, yours just on the edge of a grin as you try to bite it back. You hold hands the rest of the way, just soaking in each other’s presence with songs from bands you introduced to each other floating through the air.

(It is a goddamn struggle to get any work done at the library with that face across from you the whole time.)

You had sky-high aspirations when you were younger.

Ones that would make your teachers offer a smile and tell you to shoot a little lower, that would make your friends’ eyes widen, that your father would scoff at and your mother would humor you on just to get you to move past it.

You didn’t listen. You’ve wanted to be a lawyer since you went on a class field trip to a courthouse in elementary school and saw all the attorneys hustling about, dressed to the nines, making last-minute deals outside the courtroom.

They were just… so confident. So smart, so stoic, always knowing the answer to everything. The good ones had money, sure, but more importantly they had the power to change lives for the better. And as a kid that had to cover up bruises before the school day, nothing sounded more appealing.

All you’ve ever wanted to do is help people.

And as you sit in a cold, empty interrogation room, you can’t help but wonder where the hell you went wrong.

You don’t want to be here, obviously. But you know the FBI won’t stop bugging you until you give them answers—you know Aaron Hotchner won’t stop bugging you.

Because god— what are the odds?

What are the fucking odds of your ex-boyfriend from a decade ago showing up at your door with a badge and an attempted case against your brother?

It’s ridiculous, and it’s such bad luck that you think it could only happen to you. You’ve thought about Aaron Hotchner more than you’d like to admit over the years, especially when you found your old GW crewnecks, and the box of school supplies you used for a decade, and those photo albums from what should’ve been your golden years.

It’s not like any of it matters, though. You only agreed to come in and talk because you want them off your back and you don’t want them poking around your house. You saw it in Aaron’s eyes—he was profiling you and your place the entire time.

If the cops want to invade your privacy even further, they can get a goddamn warrant.

Your thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, and you hold back a mirthless laugh, because of course it’s Aaron. He greets you with your name, and he has a file in his hands. You wonder if it’s on you or your brother. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to come in and talk with us.”

“Well, you seem to think my brother is a murderer.” You cross your arms as you sit back. “I’m not really gonna let that stand.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a lawyer,” he says as he sits down across from you.

“I don’t plan to be here for very long,” you respond tartly. “But don’t worry—that can always change. I know my rights.”

“I’m the last person you need to tell that to.” Hotch sets the file down and looks right at you. Though he’s obviously older—more grizzled, more hardened; harsher, sharper lines that define his face; lips set in a taut, unflinching line—you still see that young man from law school. The passion, the care he puts into everything, the penchant for striped ties.

You wonder what he sees when he looks at you.

“Your last name wasn’t Hartford when I met you,” he says. “Why is it now?”

“Not one for small talk,” you remark.

“I never have been.”

“I remember.” You hold his gaze. “It’s my mom’s maiden name. I changed it to put some distance between me and everything else.”

You can practically see the gears of his brain working, neural pathways branching off with every word you say to make sense of it and reason a thousand different meanings from it. Aaron’s always been like that, but it’s tenfold now.

You suppose one has to be like that, to try and get anywhere with the types of criminals they face.

“How long have you been living in St. Louis?”

“Seven years. I’ve had that house for three.”

“Rent or own?”

“Rent,” you scoff. “I don’t make enough for a down payment, and I don’t want a place tying me down.”

“What inspired the move?”

“Close enough to home to be familiar, far enough to not be.”

“And home is?”

“St. Charles,” you say, and you purse your lips. “Shouldn’t you already know all this?” You nod at the file in front of him. “It’s either on me or my brother, and we share a lot of the same info.”

“We prefer to get our information from the source,” he says.

“Sources can lie.”

Aaron doesn’t waver. “And we can charge you with obstruction if it harms our investigation.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, not entirely without heart. “Ask your questions, Aaron.”

He opens the folder and slides the first picture over to you—your brother’s first mugshot, taken when he was only twenty-one. You still remember riding your bike to the station in the sweltering August heat to drop off his bail and pick him up.

You had to catch the bus home together, you had to pay his fare, and his bail drained everything you’d been saving from your waitress job. But your dad refused to pay it, and you refused to be alone in that house any longer than you already had.

You swallow the memory. It still tastes as sour as the day it happened.

“Lucas Hartford is our main suspect,” he says. “He matches our initial profile—in and out of jail since his twenties, his parents are dead and he has an unstable home life, and he’s got a sister.”

“None of those sound like questions,” you say.

“Where is your brother?” he asks firmly. He’s given you a bit of leniency, but you can tell he’s getting tired of you. Some things never change, you think to yourself bitterly.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“You don’t know,” he repeats.

“I let him stay with me, and my only requirement is that he goes to his community college classes and stays out of jail,” you say. “He’s done both, so I don’t ask questions.”

“And you’re telling me you haven’t questioned it.”

“I called him the other day after you left,” you say. “He didn’t pick up, and I didn’t get a call back until the next night.”

Aaron’s eyes sharpen. “What did you say to him?”

“I called to see where he was,” you say evenly. “I think you all are wrong, but I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“You didn’t tell him—”

“No,” you interrupt, “I didn’t tell him about your investigation. If I think you’re wrong, why would I need to let him know?”

He still has that look in his eyes, and you know you’re getting on his nerves with the constant interrupting, the constant backtalk. But he probably deals with much, much worse.

“Good,” he nods. “You could be putting lives in danger if you do—including yours.”

“Please,” you scoff. “He won’t hurt me. He never has.”

“Why do you let him stay with you?” Aaron asks. “You’re straight-edge, he’s a borderline alcoholic that’s been in and out of jail for years. You’ve got a law degree, he never made it past high school. You’ve got your life together, his is falling apart.”

“That’s why I do it,” you say. “Our parents are dead. I’m all he has left, and he’s all I have left. I want him to get better, so I’m trying my best to help him get there. How can Luke put his life back together if he’s got no support?”

“That’s an awful lot of faith to put in someone who hasn’t earned it.”

“I’ve gotten good at that over the years,” you reply.

Aaron stares at you, and you stare back. You let the moment linger. You hope it stings, even fleetingly.

“And you’re wrong, by the way.”

“About what?” he asks. Again, unshaken.

“I don’t have a law degree,” you say. “I dropped out.”

And for some reason, that is what gets him. He frowns, and you wonder what it means that this is the most unexpected thing he’s gotten out of you.

“Why? You were only a year out. You had stellar grades.”

“My mom got cancer,” you say. “Luke was serving his second stint, Dad fucked off to some corner of the country to drink himself to death a couple months before. I was the only one left to take care of her, and I couldn’t do that from DC.”

“I had no idea.” This is the first time he looks taken aback since you’ve met him again. “And she’s—”

“Dead,” you supply without waiting for an answer. “Went a couple months after I was meant to graduate.”

“...I’m sorry for your loss,” he says. He’s just repeating what his agent said at your house, but it feels genuine, at least.

“It’s been a decade,” you say. “I’m just sorry it was her instead of my dad.”

Aaron’s brows knit together again, and less work goes into covering it up this time. “You seem to have something against your father.”

You huff a mirthless laugh. “Excellent profiling.”

“Child abuse is common for serial killers,” Aaron says. “We find it’s typically the root of their problems later in life, or plays a part in their MO.”

You stare at him again. This isn’t just an interrogation with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner—it’s revealing parts of your past that you never told your ex-boyfriend Aaron.

“Yeah,” you finally say. “Our dad beat us. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You know th—”

Aaron cuts himself off before he can finish whatever he wants to say, and he lets out a short sigh with a nod. “It’s valuable information for the profile.”

The room feels a lot colder all of a sudden. “Sure.”

He still looks like he wants to say more, but he bites his tongue as he takes the picture back and closes the file.

“I’ll be back,” he says. “Would you like anything? Water?”

You shake your head and remain silent. He takes the folder and stands up, and you watch him the entire way to the door. Just before he can open it, you find words escaping without you thinking.

“Look, Aaron,” you blurt out. He pauses, and he turns to look at you. “I know this is your thing, and this is your investigation, but I’m telling you—my brother and I don’t play any part in it.”

“The profile—”

“I don’t care what your profile says,” you interrupt. “He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it.”

“He’s rough around the edges, I know. In and out of jail isn’t good for anyone.” You hold onto the edge of the table as you continue rambling, needing something to do with your hands. “But he’s working to get better, and he is not the kind of person to do something like this. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” he says evenly.

He leaves the room, and your hands fall into your lap as your nails dig into your palms. You don’t mean to be desperate, but you feel it. You’ve been defending Lucas at every chance, but you’re terrified of being wrong. You’re terrified that Aaron might be right—that he might be behind all of this.

For his sake—and your sake, honestly, because you think you deserve to be selfish when he’s all you have left—you hope you’re right.

You have to be right.

The room feels even colder.

Your stare drifts to the one-way mirror, where you know his team is watching. You saw the way Agent Prentiss watched Aaron when they came to your house—he said he doesn’t want them to know, but you think they already do.

You wonder the kind of things they’ve come up with about you and him.

Morgan whistles when Hotch walks out of the interrogation room.

“She does not like you.”

“Did you gather anything else?” he asks placidly. He sets your brother’s file down so he can fix his tie.

“Abusive dad, dead parents, criminal background,” he says. “Lucas is looking like a stronger suspect. Oh— and she really doesn’t like you.”

“If you don’t want to go back to building a file on your suspect, move on,” Hotch demands.

Morgan shrugs, clearly unfazed, but he keeps his mouth shut. Reid, meanwhile, is still staring through the glass at you. You haven’t exactly relaxed, but you’re not as tense as you were while talking to Hotch. You pick at a loose strand of thread on your sweater, and when you pull it out, you let it fall to the floor.

“Her brother feels like a prime suspect,” Reid murmurs. “I feel like I could just figure it all out if I could talk to him.”

“I told Penelope to keep an eye on him,” Prentiss contributes. “She’s tracking his cards, the car registered in his name, even called the person in charge of the AA meetings he goes to to keep an eye out—everything. We’ll know if she gets anything.”

“Serial killers want to see the damage they’ve done,” Reid says. “Things are falling apart here—the whole city is terrified. He’s gotta be in St. Louis still.”

“You’re sure that he’s still in the running.” Hotch glances back at you, and he knows he has to at least ask, for your sake. He doesn’t want to put you through anything more than he has to—not after what you’ve told him.

And Hotch knows your past is your business—he just can’t believe you never told him.

He’s turned over your relationship in his head just as many times in these past few days as he did the months after he ended things.

“I’m sure, sir,” Reid says. “I’ve read over both their files, and Lucas matches with our preliminary profile. His stressor could have been his father dying.”

Morgan frowns. “Explain.”

“Family annihilators typically go after their own family for a myriad of reasons,” he says. “Paranoia, to cover up their lies, to free themselves from what they see as oppression, sometimes just pure jealousy.”

“He’s killing the parents but leaving the children alive,” Hotch says. “Sounds like a liberator to me.”

“That’s what I think,” Reid nods. “If Lucas has been banking on killing his father for that attempt at freedom, and then lost the chance?” He shrugs. “That could be why he started going for other families.”

“Other fathers to take his place,” Morgan realizes, and he nods again.

“You should talk to her, Spence,” Prentiss says. “You’ve got a handle on the profile, and you’re pretty good at conveying info. She seems like a reasonable person—just can’t accept her brother doing something like this.”

“It’s typical for someone to deny their family member’s involvement,” Reid says. “No one wants to think their sibling is a murderer.”

“If you lay it all out for her like that, with facts and the profile, I think she’ll listen.” Prentiss looks at Hotch. “She’s too closed off with you.”

“That’s how she is,” Hotch claims.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, “but it’s much easier to hate you than it is to hate Reid.”

Hotch glares at her, and Reid clears his throat to insert himself back into the conversation.

“I’d be happy to talk to her,” he says. “I know what it’s like to be in this kind of position—I can put her at ease, sympathize with her.”

They all look at Hotch, and he wants to say no. He wants to be the one to get this out of you—some part of him wants as much time with you as possible. But he decides to swallow his ego.

“Fine.” He nods, and he hands the folder to Reid. “I trust you to handle it.”

Reid nods too, far too many times, and he takes the file. “Thank you. Uh— sir. I appreciate your trust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but it has no bite to it, and Reid walks inside.

He says your name and sits down across from you. “I’m Spencer Reid. I know we’ve already said it, but thank you for talking to us. It may not seem like it, but it goes a long way towards figuring out this case.”

You nod. You already seem more at ease than you were with him, and it makes Hotch…

Not jealous, because that would be insane. But it makes him upset that he doesn’t understand you the way he used to—that he doesn’t hold that key to you anymore. God, it feels like he doesn’t know you anymore.

Hotch doesn’t get why a side of his brain still thinks this way about you.

“They sent a new one in,” you say.

“You looked like you needed a break from Hotch,” Reid says. “Don’t worry. We all do sometimes.”

You huff a slight laugh and your posture eases, your expression softens just so. Reid was right, as usual.

“I can imagine.”

He starts talking to you about the case, laying out all the facts, and though you don’t look happy, you don’t cut him off like you cut Hotch off.

“She’s pretty,” Morgan offers, glancing at Hotch. “And stubborn. I see why you like her.”

“Shut up, Morgan,” Hotch mutters.

He chuckles and holds his hands up, and focuses back on the interrogation.

The rest of it passes in silence, save for the occasional input from Prentiss or Morgan to elaborate on a point. You talk much more with Reid than you did with Hotch, and you don’t stare daggers at him the entire time.

Time doesn’t always heal all wounds, he thinks.

When Reid is finishing up inside with you, Morgan glances back at Hotch. “You think she’s part of this?”

He shakes his head. “No. She has no reason to kill, nothing to gain. She talks about her past too plainly—it hurt her, obviously, but it hasn’t taken over her life.”

“What about her brother?” Prentiss asks.

“The more we learn, the more I suspect him,” Morgan says.

She nods in agreement. “We just have to find him.”

Hotch isn’t sure yet.

But for your sake, he hopes his gut feeling is wrong.

Spring has finally sprung in DC, and you couldn’t be happier.

It’s hard to feel down on your walks to class when the birds are singing and the sun is beaming down on you, when you see students sitting on blankets reading and talking and actually enjoying life for once.

You’re two years into law school, and it feels like you’ve spent 90% of your time studying in either the library or your room. A bit of a sad existence, but it’s made better with Aaron.

You’re laying down on a blanket—one you crocheted yourself in undergrad—resting your head on Aaron’s chest as he reads a book, the spring sun shining down on you. It feels like the first moment of relaxation either of you have had since classes started, and you chose to spend it together in the University Yard.

You should probably be studying or doing some kind of homework, but you don’t care. It has been too damn long since you’ve gotten to just sit around and exist with Aaron, and you’ve got at least a couple days until your next quiz. That’s far enough away for you.

It’s been a rough semester for both of you, between classes and endless homework, between your internship and your endless family issues—Luke is two years in, and his parole was denied, and your dad still insists on being the reason you stay on campus year-round.

You don’t think you’re pushing it when you say Aaron’s support has been the only reason you’ve gotten through it, your grades—and your mental state—relatively unscathed.

Aaron says your name, and you hum.

“Are you listening?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say.

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I don’t need my eyes to listen,” you say wryly. “What’s up?”

You feel him tense for a moment, feel him adjust his position slightly.

“I got a call from Haley,” he says carefully.

Your eyes open and you frown.

You know the name, but only in the way that you talked a bit about your past relationships while you were still getting to know each other. She was his high school girlfriend, and it was a big deal then, but they broke up before college because they both wanted different things.

It shouldn’t be a big deal now. But he’s treating it like one, and that makes you hesitate.

“Yeah? What’d she want?”

“…She’s in DC for the weekend,” he says. “Some conference for school. She asked if we could grab a coffee or something and catch up.”

You finally sit up, his hands falling from where he’d been playing with your hair, and you look at him.

“Your high school girlfriend wants to catch up.”

“An old friend wants to catch up,” he corrects. “I haven’t really talked to her since we graduated high school.”

“...Okay,” you say slowly. “Do you want to see her?”

He shrugs. “I thought it would be nice.”

“Do you think she thinks it’ll be more than nice?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t even know how she got my landline. I think my mom might have given it to her.”

Your eyebrows rise. “Your mom gave your ex-girlfriend your number?”

“It’s the only way I can think of her getting it,” Aaron shrugs. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to her since graduation.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to think as you look at Aaron.

You’ve met his mom a dozen times. You’re insistent that she doesn’t like you, despite Aaron’s assertions towards the opposite—it wouldn’t surprise you if she gave this girl his new number in an effort to push him in a new direction.

But that train of thought feels a little crazy. You’re confident in your relationship with Aaron—you love him, and he loves you. God, he made an off-handed comment about marriage the other day. You’re not threatened by a girl from his past wanting to catch up.

“Go for it,” you finally say.

He frowns, like he was expecting the worst. “Really?”

“I trust you, Aaron,” you say. “You say she’s just a friend, I believe it.”

You lean forward to kiss him, your eyes fluttering shut, and it lasts much longer than it should. When you pull away, Aaron’s smiling softly at you.

“Thank you,” he says.

“‘Course,” you say, tipping a shoulder. “I’m known to be rational from time to time.”

He chuckles, and you smile as you lay back down on his chest. Soon after, you feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he says. It feels more like a reminder than anything.

You entangle your fingers together and press a kiss to the back of his hand.

Sometimes you need reminders.

“I love you too.”

“Four more bodies,” Prentiss mutters. “God.”

“You can say that again,” Morgan murmurs.

Hotch is silent as he examines the father’s body. They’ve been so busy the past few days trying to nail down the profile, both on their unsub and geographically, that this happening again hadn’t been at the top of their list. There was a month between the first two, and two weeks between the second and third.

No one expected this to happen so soon.

The entire family was killed this time, and once again, the parents look similar to the other victims. It’s the work of their unsub, no doubt.

Hotch and the team had already been at the precinct for an hour going over all the information they’d found when they got the call at 8 in the morning, the bodies discovered by the family’s maid when she arrived for work.

An entire family, parents and children, senselessly slaughtered for one man’s deranged quest for liberation.

Hotch has been in this business for a long time, seen things that most people only imagine in nightmares, and he still has to take a step back when children are involved.

He sees Jack in every single one. He can’t help it.

Hotch took Prentiss and Morgan with him to the crime scene—JJ has a kid, Rossi had a kid, and he just didn’t want Reid to see it. They’ll all be more valuable working together back there anyways, and it’s imperative that JJ controls the narrative before this can break to the press.

Again, Prentiss talks to the officers at the scene and Morgan helps him examine the bodies. After all, there are double the amount.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Morgan says as he stands back up. “Our guy is killing surrogate parents to get back at his own, fine. Dad was tortured again, mom was killed with a bullet. But bringing the kids into it isn’t his thing.”

He uses a gloved hand to gingerly lift the father’s arm away from his body so he can examine the underarm. “Look at this. He’s been stabbed at least ten times, and his arm’s nearly severed from his body.”

“And his neck,” Morgan mutters. “He’s half decapitated.”

Hotch sets the arm back down. “The unsub always wants the father to suffer, but this is a new level.” He looks up at Morgan. “I don’t think he has a reason for killing the children. I think he’s getting sloppy—he’s getting overwhelmed by his anger.”

“You think he’s devolving,” he says, catching on.

“Something tells me we’re coming to the end of the line,” Hotch says. “Whatever he does next, he’s going out with a bang.”

The mood in the precinct has fallen dramatically since the last hit. The uniforms aren’t happy that they’re working around the clock, the chief isn’t happy that the BAU hasn’t figured everything out yet, and the city isn’t happy that ten murders have been committed with what they think is no end in sight.

JJ and Rossi have gone out to bring in the suspect that he and Morgan found together for the sake of covering their bases—they still haven’t been able to find Lucas, despite Reid calling you every day to check in and upping police presence around the city.

The rest of the team sits around a conference table, over a dozen coffees between them, going over everything and racking their brains for information.

“This just isn’t matching up,” Reid complains. “Lucas has just been at home for the first two, but for the third and the fourth he’s got alibis.”

“What are they?” Hotch asks.

“He was on the road all night when the third happened,” Reid says.

“And how do we know?” Prentiss asks.

“Garcia picked up his debit card being used a couple times from Des Moines back to St. Louis when the third set of murders happened,” Morgan contributes. “Must’ve been a road trip, because there are stops at a gas station, a restaurant, and a rest stop.”

“The last one happened during an AA meeting he was supposed to attend,” Prentiss says. “I called the leader and she said he was there.”

“Do we have footage from any of those places?” Hotch asks. “We need to make sure.”

Reid nods. “I asked her to check it all this morning, including the AA meeting. She must still be going through it—I can’t imagine it’s easy to get all that access.”

“What about a second unsub?” Morgan suggests.

Hotch shakes his head. “These are all meant to be personal for liberation—catharsis. Involving someone else would take away from the feeling.”

“What about your suspect?” Prentiss asks, looking at Morgan. “Could he be the unsub?”

“Patrick Fenton,” Morgan says, and he shrugs. “He fits it—dead parents, jail time, child of abuse. But he’s got two sisters, and his parents died when he was in his twenties from a car accident. I don’t see why he would start killing almost twenty years later.”

“Maybe we’ll figure something out in questioning,” Reid says hopefully.

Morgan’s phone suddenly goes off, and he hits the button to answer. “You’re on speaker, babygirl.”

“I found the security footage from those three places, the ones that Lucas was at on his supposed road trip when the third family was hit,” Garcia says, voice slightly tinny through the phone.

“And?” Hotch asks.

“I was getting there,” she says. “Lucas wasn’t there. He wasn’t on any of the footage—his sister was.”

Hotch frowns. You?

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m always sure,” Garcia responds. “And I don’t know if Spencer is there, but he also wasn’t there at the AA meeting—I combed through the whole meeting, and he didn’t show up at any point. Just another guy that looked like him.”

“And you’re sure about that, too?” Hotch asks again.

“What is with this questioning of my abilities?” she asks, offended. “Yes. I’ve stared at so many pictures of Lucas Hartford over these past few days that I’ve got him burned into my brain.”

“Thanks, babygirl,” Morgan says. “We’ll call back if we need anything.”

“And you’re always welcome in this house of miracles,” she muses. Morgan chuckles before he hangs up.

“Lucas gave her his card,” Reid realizes. “It’s an easy alibi, but it falls apart when you look into it even a little bit.”

“Probably seemed solid to him at the time,” Morgan says. “He doesn’t seem like a detail oriented guy.”

Prentiss frowns. “That means he’s back on the chopping block. We can put him at the scene of every murder.”

Hotch leans over the table and grabs Lucas’s file, and he pulls out the page compiling his family. “His father died five years ago from liver failure. Hartford got out of jail last year.”

“If he’s been plotting some elaborate murder of his father for years, just to get out of jail and find out he drank himself to death?” Morgan shakes his head. “He’d snap. It doesn’t feel like justice.”

“He thinks he’s saving the kids of these parents that he kills,” Reid says. “He sees himself in them—he can’t look past his own childhood, and he assumes those kids must want their parents dead too.”

“He’s trying to get back at his dad,” Prentiss says. “We know that.”

“But that’s not his main goal,” Reid insists. “If his dad died when he was a kid, the abuse would have stopped. His mom wouldn’t be the battered wife anymore, and he wouldn’t be the battered kid.”

“His goal has always been protection,” Hotch realizes. “Yes, he’s getting his revenge by killing his father over and over, but ultimately, he’s trying to save himself.”

“But he didn’t anticipate the kids being home this time,” Prentiss says. “He had to kill them too.”

“If he‘s seeing himself in these children, recreating what he never got to do, then that means that he effectively died in this scenario,” Reid says.

“He didn’t get what he wanted,” Morgan says. “That’s gonna take a toll on him.”

“He’s coming to the end of the line,” Prentiss nods.

Hotch’s brain is working overtime as they work information off of each other. They’re so damn close—they just need the last piece of the puzzle. If they find Lucas’s next victim, they find him.

“His next crime will probably be his last before he goes out himself,” Reid says.

“You think it’ll be a murder-suicide?” Morgan asks.

“It’s common with family annihilators,” Reid says. “Hell, it’s common with anyone who sees no future beyond their murders. It’s their way out.”

And then the answer hits Hotch like a ton of bricks. Reid is still rambling next to him.

“If his dad was still alive, I’d say he would be the target. But the only one left—”

“—is his sister,” Hotch grits out, and he’s dashing out of the conference room before anyone can stop him.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, and he turns to Prentiss with wild eyes. “Where the hell is he going?”

“The last victim,” she says as she starts following him. “The one person he never managed to save.”

“Goddammit,” Morgan curses, and he grabs his phone from the table, dialing Garcia as fast as she can while he runs. Reid is close behind him.

“What’s up, sugar?” she asks. “Got anymore leads?”

He laughs dryly. “We’ve got a big one, babygirl. Lucas has finally reached the end of the road — he’s going for his sister. I need you to call JJ and Rossi and—”

“Send them the Hartford address and fill them in on everything?” she interrupted, and he could hear her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Already on it.”

“What would I do without you?” he asks.

“Be half the man and twice as sad,” she says. “I’ve got to call JJ. Be safe, my love.”

“Always,” he responds, and he hangs up.

Hotch distantly registers Prentiss stopping by the chief to alert him of what’s going on, because he’s in the fog of a rampage. He’s in the driver’s seat before he knows it, starting the car, and he sees Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid running out after him.

Prentiss takes shotgun and Morgan and Reid file into the back, and they’ve all got Kevlar vests in their hands. He didn’t really think of that through his haze.

“We’ve got an extra one for you,” Reid says, reading his mind.

“Thank you. I— I know what you’re all thinking—” Hotch starts, but Prentiss shakes her head.

“Just drive.” Her lips set themselves in a taut line. “We’ve got a murder to stop.”

And he does.

You sit on the curb, surrounded on either side by a box of your things. Packing up everything made you realize how little you had at his place. You thought you’d integrated yourself into his life fully, but it really just took an afternoon while he was in a lecture to disappear.

Summer has fully turned to winter, and you’re as morose as the weather. This side of town looks so depressing without the warmer months to pick it up—the sidewalks are lined with dead trees, the grass is shriveled up and yellowing, and you feel like you’re living in grayscale.

A shiver runs through you, the weather only partly to blame.

Amy is supposed to pick you up, but as usual, she’s running late. You don’t know if it’s a personal issue or DC traffic has just struck again, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way, you’re stuck here, and your bad luck seems intent on making it worse, because you watch a familiar car pull around the corner.

It parks a distance away—there’s no space in front of the complex, and he always complained that they didn’t do assigned spots—and you have to hold back a scornful scoff.

Of course you have to deal with this now.

Aaron picks up his pace when he gets out of the car, surprise—and what you think is shame—painted on his face. He says your name when he slows down.

“You’re already packed.”

You shrug. “I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“I could’ve helped you with all this,” Aaron says, frowning.

“Why do you think it’s done already?” you ask.

His throat bobs and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Let me save you the pain of chivalry,” you say. “I’ve got a friend coming to pick me up. I’ve already found a place. I called your property manager the other day and argued my way out of the lease, but I still paid my next month. You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

“You know what they say about a clean break,” you intone.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron tries again. To his credit, he looks like he means it. Against his credit, it’s about the fiftieth time you’ve heard it from him in the past two weeks.

“I shouldn’t have let you get that coffee,” you say with a grim smile, “should I?”

His lips pull into a taut line. “I didn’t cheat on you.”

“I know,” you say. It’s the one thing you do believe. “I just don’t think you ever fell out of love with her.”

Mercifully, you see Amy’s car pulling up in the distance. She’s your only friend with an SUV, so at least your boxes will fit.

“My ride’s here,” you say as you stand up, and you pick up one of your boxes. Amy throws on her hazards and she gets out to open her trunk.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she breathes. “Traffic was awful, and Jake has been so annoying—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a slight smile as you put your box in the back. “You’re already doing me a huge favor.”

“I want us to still be friends,” Aaron calls. When you turn back, he has your other box in his hands, his expression shamelessly desperate. Amy glares daggers at him.

“Why?” you ask innocently. “So I can go without talking to you for ten years, ask you for a coffee when I’m in town, and then get you to leave Haley?”

“That’s not what happened,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head.

You take the box from him and smile thinly.

“Have a good rest of your life, Aaron. I hope it doesn’t involve me ever again.”

You let out a noise of frustration as you struggle to get the key into the lock, gritting your teeth as you try to fit it in. It’s always been finicky, but you just don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. Thankfully, just when you start getting annoyed, you get it open.

You get a few steps in before your eyebrows rise, the sight of your brother at the kitchen table a surprise. He’s got his head in his hands, and your surprise turns to concern.

“Lucas,” you say with a slight smile, shutting the door behind you, “I didn’t know you were gonna be home tonight.”

His attention shoots to you immediately as he says your name, and he looks slightly out of it. “I was wondering when you were gonna get back.”

“Stole the words right out of my mouth,” you say wryly, and you ruffle his hair with your free hand as you walk past him. He swats your hand away in brotherly protest, and you snort. “This place has been quiet without you. Well— except for the cops. They were pretty loud.”

“They haven’t been back, have they?”

You look back at him and notice his leg is bobbing up and down insanely fast, and he keeps scratching at the soft wood of your table with his nail.

Your smile fades. “Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking.”

“Of course I haven’t,” he insists, but you turn on the kitchen light, then move closer to peer into his eyes against his protests.

“At least you’re not high,” you murmur, taking one last look before you pull away. “And stop ruining the table. I need it to last for the next ten years.”

He huffs, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, but he stops.

“Did you go to class today?”

“You don’t have to act like Mom,” Lucas says, crossing his arms again with another huff.

“And you don’t have to act like a child.” You roll your eyes as you set your tote bag on the countertop and begin unpacking the groceries you bought. “I’m asking you about your day—that’s definitely not acting like Mom.”

“Yes,” he mocks. “I went to class.”

“Good.” You glance back at him. “I’m proud of you, Luke. You’ve been making progress.”

His smile is a bit thin, but he nods. “Thanks. How was work?”

You scoff and shake your head as you put a couple things in the pantry. “Don’t even get me started. I swear, Marie’s going to get me fired someday if she keeps her bullshit up.”

“She’s still on it?” Luke asks, and you can’t help but smile a bit.

“Don’t act like you know what I’m talking about,” you say. “Just agree with me.”

“I agree with you,” he says.

“That’s it,” you muse.

Your eyes fall back on your bag, and you’re reminded of what you meant to do next time your brother showed up.

“Oh—” You go back over to the kitchen table for your bag and pull out your wallet. You slide a debit card out and hold it out to your brother. “Thanks for letting me use it while I was up in Des Moines. I finally got my bank to get rid of the freeze on my card.”

“...Of course,” he says, and he takes it back. “Glad I could help.”

“I’ll pay you back, obviously,” you say as you get back to your groceries. “I just have to wait to get paid again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And uh— you never answered me. Did the cops come by again?”

You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “You have nothing to worry about, Luke. I think they finally realized they were barking up the wrong tree.”

“…Good,” he says. “I can tell they’ve stressing you out.”

“Like that looks any different than my normal state,” you say wryly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

You recall the shock you felt when you opened the door to Aaron, and how nervous you were on the drive to the precinct. It’s almost been a decade, and yet he still has an effect on you that he has no right to.

“You remember that guy I dated when I was still in law school? Aaron Hotchner?”

“I think? I was in jail, so.”

You roll your eyes. “I know I told you about him when I visited you while we were together.”

“I remember you telling me how he broke your heart,” Luke says.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That he’s with the FBI now. The BAU,” you enunciate, and you huff. “He’s one of the guys on this case, coincidence that it is. They came here—they even brought me in for an interview.”

He frowns. “What’d you say?”

“The truth.” You pull your cutting board and a knife out of a drawer and get to work washing your vegetables. “That I didn’t know anything, and neither of us are involved in either way.” You shake your head with a sigh. “They must believe it, because they haven’t come back.”

“What have they said about me?” he asks.

“I’m not supposed to say.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re innocent, but I could get charged with obstruction, and I really don’t feel like dealing with that…”

You trail off into a sigh as you finish washing the peppers and set them on a towel. “I hope they find whoever’s doing it, though. It is freaking me out that there’s a murderer out there.”

You pick up your knife and start cutting them up—they’re not the freshest, but it’s all Kroger had after work—and you glance back at Luke. “You really shouldn’t be going out so often with this going on, y’know. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m careful.”

“I doubt that,” you say wryly. “Still, though. I worry about you.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asks. “I’m your older brother.”

“I worry about everything,” you say. “It’s my thing.”

You hear him huff a laugh and you smile a bit to yourself. You get through your first pepper before you remember what’s been nagging at you your whole ride home.

“Oh— can you get the TV?” you ask. “Channel 8, I think. Marcy is getting interviewed for something with her nonprofit, and I told her I’d record it for her.”

Lucas doesn’t respond, though you hear the scrape of the chair as he gets up.

“Thank you,” you say. “I think they have a fundraiser coming up or something…” you trail off and shake your head as you scrape the cut peppers onto a plate. “God. I need to start paying attention in the break room.”

Another few seconds pass, and you don’t hear the television switch on. You huff and turn your head slightly. “Luke, I’m making dinner tonight. This is the least you could do.”

“I’m sorry.”

The words come out as a murmur, but you can tell he’s much closer than he was before.

You don’t even get the chance to turn around before something crashes against your head and your vision goes dark. You feel yourself fall to the ground, and your head hits the floor hard.

Then, there’s nothing.

Hotch has been breaking every speeding law there is.

The station isn’t too far from your house, but it’s still too far. All he can see is your body, crippled and lifeless just like every other victim they’ve had to look at.

It should never have gotten to this point. Lucas has been a suspect for the first day, but they looked to other suspects, got caught up in statements from neighbors and the kids of the victims.

If Hotch just found him and booked him on the first day, this wouldn’t be happening. Your life wouldn’t be in danger.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“I seriously think we’re looking at a murder-suicide if this gets to play out,” Reid speaks up from the backseat. “This is his way of ending this for both of them—the ultimate protection of his sister.”

“No one can hurt her if she’s dead,” Morgan mutters.

“Hotch,” Prentiss starts, treading carefully, “are you sure you’re okay to lead this?”

“Yes,” he says, though he wants to say what kind of question is that?

You were together a lifetime ago in law school, yes, and he might still have feelings for you that he didn’t even realize were there, yes—but he’s an agent and a professional before all of that.

It doesn’t matter that you have history. It doesn’t matter that you likely hate him.

It doesn’t matter that he thought he was going to marry you one day, and then was watching you drive out of his life after he got back with his high school girlfriend another day.

Aaron Hotchner is not going to let you die. It’s as simple as that.

Hotch’s phone rings and he picks it up and flips it open immediately. “Talk to me, Garcia.”

“JJ and Rossi are on their way,” she says. “Are you headed to their place?”

“Yes,” he says, and he puts it on speaker. “I’ve got Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid with me still.”

“Do you think there’s anywhere else he could be?” Morgan asks. “If he’s going to kill her, he might not want to do it in this house.”

“Already a step ahead of you, my love,” she says, and he can hear mouse clicks through the phone. “They grew up in a house in St. Charles—it’s abandoned, from the looks of it, some place on the outskirts. Never got another buyer after the past owners moved out. I’m sending the address to Emily right now.”

Prentiss gets a buzz on her phone and she nods in confirmation after flipping it open. Hotch immediately switches lanes and makes a U-turn, his jaw clenching.

“Tell me how to get there, Prentiss,” he says. “He’s there.”

“You need to get on I-70,” she says, and then her brow furrows. “How do you know?”

“He’s killed everyone else in their homes because he sees it as the source of it all. His sister’s rented place isn’t personal enough.” Hotch shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t he want to go back to theirs to end it all?”

“Hotch.” Penelope’s voice rings out in the car, and he doesn’t even realize he forgot to hang up.

“What?”

“Be careful,” she says, and he rushes to turn it off speaker and press it to his ear. “I… I know how important this is to you.”

Hotch’s throat bobs and his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. He blinks them away—he can’t be weak now. He can’t let his team see him be weak now. “Dare I ask how?”

“I found an article about GW’s mock trial team,” she says. “Kind of went down a rabbit hole from there.”

Somehow, he huffs the slightest laugh. It feels like a lifetime ago—it honestly is, at this point. Before he saw carnage and gore on a daily basis and tried to solve it, when he thought the DA’s office was the endpoint, when he came home to your smiling face every night.

And now…

Hotch’s spine somehow stiffens, and he knows the other three in the car are watching him. He can’t decide whether he cares or not.

“Thank you, Garcia.”

“No problem,” she says, and he can almost hear her blink in the pause. “Uh— for what, exactly?”

For the memory, he wants to say. But he doesn’t. He can’t, not right now, so he tries his best to snap out of it.

“Keep a watch on the patrol cars,” he says instead. “Update JJ and Rossi on our plan, but tell them to stay on their path. I’m sure I’m right, but we need to cover our bases.”

“Of course, sir.” He hears her fingers flying across the keys. “I’ve got yours and the squad cars’ locations up—I’ll call them now.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“Good luck, Hotch,” Garcia says softly.

Hotch hangs up before he gets too emotional. Penelope has a way of bringing that side out of him.

“We’ll get him,” Prentiss assures. She’s been watching him this whole time, he can feel it—she’s been attuned far too keenly on this entire part of the case involving you and him. “And we’ll save her.”

His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and for once, Hotch can’t find the words.

It feels like your head is slowly being cranked in a vice when you eventually wake up, a dull but insistent pain. Your arm stings too, but you don’t know why.

You blink a few times as you try to figure out where you are, a low groan slipping out as you fully come back into consciousness, and you move to rub the grogginess out of your eyes.

Your arms don’t move. You try again, panic spiking your heart for a moment, and that’s when you realize you’re in a chair—tied to a chair, your wrists bound together behind you and your ankles bound to the chair legs.

Now the panic fully sets in. There’s a murderer in St. Louis, but you don’t fit the victimology from what you’ve seen, but does any of that fucking matter when you’re stuck in something out of a horror movie?

Lucas was the only one there with you. So either he’s in the same situation, or he—

“You’re finally awake,” a voice murmurs. When he comes into view and sits down across from you, your heart stops.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at your brother with wide eyes. You see the gun in his hand through your peripherals, but you don’t look away from his gaze.

“I was worried I was too rough,” he says softly. “But you’ve always been resilient.”

“Lucas,” you breathe. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s finally going to be over,” he says, ignoring your panic. “We’ve been hurting our whole lives because of that bastard of a father, and I can finally make it all stop.”

Your brother is fucking crazy. He’s fucking crazy, and he’s going to kill you.

You’ve spent two weeks telling Aaron he was crazy and your brother was innocent, and now he’s going to be proven right when he finds your dead body.

You try to tamp down on your panic. You don’t have a law degree, sure, and you never officially practiced, but you’ve been a good speaker, a persuasive one, all your life.

And if there’s ever been a fucking time to be persuasive, it’s now.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper. “We— we can talk if you want to talk.” You tug at your ankle restraints. “This is unnecessary.”

He shakes his head. “I know you. You’d run.”

“Come on.” You manage as much of a smile as you can. “I’ve always been there for you, Luke. Why would this be any different?”

“...You’ve always been too nice,” he says, and he sets the gun down on his leg. At least he doesn’t have his finger on the trigger. “Anyone rational would’ve kicked me to the curb when I asked you for help.”

“You’re my brother,” you whisper. “I— I love you, Lucas. I’d never do that to you.”

“Family’s supposed to be everything, right?” He shakes his head. “You were the only one of us that understood that. You were there to pick me up every time my sentence was up.”

“I’ve always believed in you,” you say.

He huffs a monotone laugh as he stares at the ground. “You’re definitely the only one.”

You shake your head. “That’s not true.”

“Mom didn’t care enough to stop anything,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “And Dad wished I was dead every goddamn day. He didn’t have the guts to do it himself, but he definitely tried.”

You can’t defend your parents. Your dad’s a piece of shit, and your mom didn’t stop anything he did—but you could never find it in yourself to fully hate her because he hurt her too, with more than just bruises.

“I’ve dreamt of killing our dad every day for twenty years,” Lucas says. “And that old bastard had to fuck me over one last time and die while I was in jail.”

You remember when you got the news. You were next of kin—your mother had divorced him by then, and your brother was incarcerated—so you got the call from the hospital. You deliberated for hours before you bought a plane ticket to Montana—apparently that was where he fucked off to drink himself to death—and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more numb than when you were sitting in some lawyer’s office, listening to him drone on about his will and how his estate would be divided.

“So you killed all of those people?” you asked. “Because you didn’t get to kill our dad first?”

“I was saving those kids!” Luke yells, and you shrink in on yourself. “Saving them before their parents could fuck them up like ours did to us!”

“You don’t have to do this,” you repeat. “You’re just letting Dad win. Proving every shitty thing he said about you.”

“And that’s the zinger, isn’t it? Luke laughs and shakes his head. “He was right. We’re a whole family of fuck-ups. An alcoholic abuser, a battered wife, a nonstop jailbird, and you…” He shakes his head with a sigh. “You should be out there prosecuting people like me.”

“He ruined us,” Luke murmurs. “And I’m finally going to fix it.”

All you can do is stare at your brother, wide and teary eyed. You can’t find the words, but you don’t have to.

Police sirens begin to filter through the air as they get closer, and Luke huffs. “Of course.” He eyes you. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say weakly.

When he leaves to peer out the front door, you take a second to look at your surroundings. It takes a second because they’re so decrepit, but you could never forget.

Luke brought you back to your childhood home—the place in St. Charles, rotten down to its bones. It’s abandoned by now, but the atmosphere is nothing less than oppressive. There’s a reason you graduated high school a year early, why you never came back once you got to college—except with Aaron, to help your mom move her things out.

You refuse to die here. Even if you have to claw back through the gates of Hell inch by inch—you will not die here.

You hear footsteps, and when Lucas comes back in, he has a crazed glint in his eye. He shakes his head as his finger returns back to the trigger, and you can’t help but flinch. He won’t. Not now.

“Looks like your friends the FBI are here,” he drawls. “You said you didn’t tell them anything.”

“I didn’t,” you insist. “They’re profilers—they figure things out.”

He shakes his head. “They don’t realize that I have to do this.” Luke kneels down in front of you and takes your chin in an iron grip. “This is the only way to end our pain.”

He lets go of you then stands up, moving behind you—you want to protest, but you don’t get the chance. He presses his gun to your temple and then the door is broken down. Four agents rush in, guns at the ready. Aaron leads them, and he’s got fire blazing in his eyes.

“FBI,” he barks. “Hands up.”

Lucas doesn’t seem fazed, his breathing staying the same. You stare right at Aaron, unfiltered fear in your eyes, and you feel torn bare. He’s going to watch your brother put a bullet in your head.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says smoothly. “This is a family matter.”

“Put the gun down, Lucas,” Aaron says.

“You know my name,” he says. “I know yours too, Aaron Hotchner. My sister told me you were with the feds. She also told me you broke her heart.”

“Put the gun down,” he repeats.

“I don’t think I will,” Luke says. “You see, I don’t go around just kidnapping people for fun. I have a purpose here.” He tilts his head to the side. “But you know that, don’t you? You’re all profilers.”

“You’ve been targeting families that look like your own,” he says. “You think that killing them will end the pain inside you, and protect those kids in a way that you never got.”

“I don’t think it,” he bites, “I know it. If my dad had been shot thirty years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“This isn’t going to bring you peace,” Aaron says. “Your sister has been the only person to stay by your side through every part of your life. Do you really want to lose that?”

“Trust me,” Luke says. “I’m not losing her.”

He flicks the safety off and you flinch. He’s going to kill you.

“Put the gun down,” another agent warns.

“If you all don’t leave right now, I’ll shoot her.” Your whole body stiffens as he presses the gun harder into the side of your head, your breathing going off kilter. “Except you, Aaron Hotchner. You can stay.”

“We’re not doing that,” the woman says. Agent Prentiss, you think.

“Really?” Luke chuckles. “You think you hold the cards here?”

“It’s okay,” Aaron says. “Go.”

Agent Prentiss frowns, and the other two men look different levels of puzzled. They obviously doubt the decision, but they don’t doubt Aaron, because one by one, they leave.

“Wow,” Luke muses. “They really trust you.”

“Because I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Aaron says. “Deep down, you know you’re not protecting her. Not by hurting her.”

“I’m not hurting her,” he says. “She’s always been the one to keep me safe over the years—I’m finally paying the favor back. I’m finally taking her pain away.”

“You were abused as children. Both of you.” Aaron looks at your brother. “Your sister always tried to protect you, but it never worked. It just made it worse for her, and it made you feel worthless. You’re her older brother. You’re the one that was supposed to protect her.”

“My sister said you’re profilers,” he says, and though his tone is lazy, you know your brother. You can tell it’s starting to get to him. “Is that what you’re doing right now? Profiling me?”

“You would never be good enough for your father, and your mother would never do anything to stop it,” Aaron continues. “All you had was your sister, and even that wasn’t good enough—you hurt her just as much as your dad did. At least your dad didn’t think he was a good person.”

Luke growls, and he puts a hand on your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “Shut up.”

“Your sister has told me you can be more than this,” he says. “And I think she’s right. You’re better than this—better than living between the margins and jail.”

“I’ve had a hole in my chest since I was born,” Luke mutters. “And I’ve tried to stop it, but it’s just grown and grown and grown. This— this aching pit of pain, and he caused it. You’ve got it too— I know it.”

“I— I do,” you say. And you’re not lying. You’ve had a pit of despair in you for as long as you can remember. The only difference is that you’ve fought every goddamn day of your life to keep it from consuming you. “And it hurts, Luke. Trust me, I know. It took me so long to even be able to deal with it, but I know how to. I can help you—we can both walk out of here.”

“No,” he whispers. “No—we can’t.”

“Yes, we can,” you plead. “I love you, Luke. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life helping you if that’s what it takes to get rid of that hole.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him. Aaron never takes his eyes away from you.

“I’ve never been able to protect her,” Luke murmurs. “Not from our dad, not from the world, not even from you, Aaron Hotchner.” He presses the gun harder than ever into your head, like he wants to bury the metal in your skull along with the bullet. “But that all ends now.”

You screw your eyes shut. You don’t want to see Aaron’s face when your brother kills you.

And then it happens so quickly you barely process it.

There’s two gunshots, almost at the same time. You scream, first because of the gunshots, then because of the sudden roaring pain in your side. There’s a thud next to you, your eyes shoot open, and you see your brother’s lifeless body fall to the ground.

You scream again—you can’t even control it, it just rips out of you at the sight of the hole in his head and the blood pooling beneath it—and Aaron drops his gun to rush forward. The rest of his team thunders in after him, all in guns and bulletproof vests, and they’re talking, but you can’t focus on a single goddamn thing because your brother’s dead body is right next to you.

Aaron pulls out a pocket knife and begins to cut through your restraints, and the instant he finishes you collapse. He catches you without a second thought, and you immediately wrap your arms around him.

Torrential sobs wrack your entire body as you bury your face in the crook of his shoulder, every part of you shaking as the reality of it all hits with full force.

Your brother is a serial killer. He killed ten people, he tried to kill you. And now he’s dead.

The only part you had left of your family—gone, just like that, with four other families ruined in his wake.

Aaron’s soft voice in your ear is the only thing bringing you back from the edge of hyperventilation, his own hold on you the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs and he shrugs off his windbreaker to wrap it around your arms. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“He’s gone,” you choke out, voice muffled as you speak into his chest. “He’s gone, and he tried to—”

A fresh round of emotions hit you, unable to get the words out, and you fully break down in Aaron’s arms.

“I know.”

Aaron’s fingers linger on your side and you feel some dull pain, but you feel his breath still for a moment.

“You were shot,” he says with your name. “We have to get you to a hospital.”

You don’t even feel it. God, you don’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing in your ears, an insistent pain in your skull, and you finally realize Aaron is right when you pull away and see the blood on his fingers.

But black spots start to fill your vision. You may not feel it, but your body holds the score. The pain intensifies in your side as your adrenaline starts to slow down, and you collapse against Aaron.

“Get an EMT in here!” he yells, keeping an arm wrapped around you. “We’ve got a GSW— she’s losing blood fast!”

You can feel Aaron’s rapid heartbeat, can feel his steady arms as he keeps you propped up. You feel the warmth of his body, feel the warmth draining out of yours.

“Aaron,” you whisper, your strength fading. You don’t think he hears you.

He helps you up and you’re suddenly hoisted onto a stretcher, and he’s beside you as the EMTs run you out of your childhood home. The night is a blurry canvas of red and blue lights, and your eyelids feel like they’re made of concrete.

“Aaron,” you try again, and you have enough left in you to grasp his cheek. “Thank you.”

And as the world goes black around you for the second time, you see his lips form your name.

It’s not a bad thing, you think before darkness overtakes you, for Aaron Hotchner to be the last thing you see before you die.

You wake up in the hospital alone.

You don’t know what you expect. You have few acquaintances, fewer friends, and the last part of your family is dead after he tried to kill you.

The real surprise is that you wake up at all.

Lucas is dead.

He tried to kill you. You thought he succeeded.

You let out a slow, even breath, accompanied only by the sounds of beeping machines. It still doesn’t exactly feel real.

You’ve spent the last two weeks defending your brother against every accusation, and you ended it in the hospital—well and truly alone for the first time in your life.

You look at the television. Some muted soccer game is playing, and you’re thankful. You were worried that you and your brother would be the topic of the day.

Who are you kidding? You’re going to be the topic of the year. He killed ten people. He tried to kill you, and you think he nearly did. He shot you, after all.

You let your head fall back against the pillow. All of your limbs feel insurmountably heavy, your side aches like hell, and you’ve got the worst headache of your life.

And you can’t stop playing it all over in your mind.

He was going to kill you.

Your own brother, your flesh and blood, the only person you had left, tried to kill you and would have killed you had it not been for the BAU.

Had it not been for Aaron Hotchner.

The door opens and someone walks through, your eyes following the movement, and when he sees it, he pauses. And so do you—apparently the devil appears even when you think of him.

“You’re awake,” Aaron says after a moment. It’s the third time he’s sounded surprised since you’ve met him again. Seeing you, finding out your mom is dead, seeing you.

But there’s relief there, too.

He has a coffee in his hand and his tie is undone, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up to his forearms. It makes you realize his suit jacket has been slung over the back of the chair near your bedside.

“How long have you been here?” you ask, your brows furrowing ever so slightly.

Aaron closes the door and sets his coffee on the table before he answers you. “Three days.”

“And how long have I been here?”

“Three days,” he says. “You suffered head trauma, they discovered drugs in your system, and… you were shot. You had to go into emergency surgery.”

You frown, and he answers before you can ask any of them. “…Your brother. After he knocked you out, he used something to… keep you out. And after I shot him, he still got one off—thankfully, as he was falling. The bullet hit you in the side instead of the head.”

“How bad was it?” you ask.

Aaron glances away. “You died on the table. They managed to bring you back, but…”

“I guess Luke did succeed,” you say absentmindedly. Aaron doesn’t laugh, and you glance away too. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes.”

He shakes his head. “If anyone’s allowed to joke about this, it’s you.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, but then you look back at him as he takes a seat at your bedside again. He looks— god, he just looks tired. Tired and ragged and downtrod, and you can’t imagine you look much better.

“You were out for two days after,” he explains. “This is the first time you’ve woken up.”

“Why are you here, Aaron?” you ask quietly. “Why have you been here?”

Aaron frowns. “Where else would I be?”

Your throat feels like it’s closing up, and you feel the telltale pinpricks of tears. You blink them away before they can start.

“My brother was a serial killer, Aaron.” Your hands clench into fists as you stare at the wall. “He killed ten people while he was living with me and I— and I didn’t even fucking notice.” Your gaze moves back to him. “I went against all of you because I thought I knew him, and look where it got me.”

“It’s not a crime to want to see the best in people,” he says. “Especially your family.”

“It’s a crime to fucking murder people,” you huff, and it’s only slightly unhinged. “I— I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. And if I did, maybe none of these people would’ve had to die.”

“Don’t blame this on yourself,” Aaron demands. “Lucas was lost. Mentally ill. He was on a path for revenge, for his deranged idea of protection—nothing you could have said or done would have stopped him.”

You shake your head. “It might be easy for you to say that, Aaron, but I— I can’t. He’s my brother. I gave him a place to live, I gave him easy access to families— god, I fought with you all for two weeks about his innocence, all while he was planning his next fucking murder!”

“It is not your fault,” he repeats, slower and enunciating the words. “He was the only member left of your family, and you loved him. You were just stubborn, and that’s nothing new.”

“I just don’t know what to do.” You’ve had these walls up for so long, especially this past week, and now that everything’s come to a head and you’re in the hospital and your fucking brother is dead, the floodgates have opened. “I have to plan a funeral because I’m the only one left to plan one, but— but does he even deserve one? He’s a serial killer, and he tried to kill me for god’s sake, but he’s my brother and even though he’s gone he’s still all I have left and—”

You break off as you suck in a huge breath of air, the notion shaky as you clench your hands into fists to keep the rest of your body from doing the same.

“And I just don’t know what to do,” you repeat, barely a whisper.

You meet Aaron’s eyes, almost desperately. You feel like you’ll shatter into a million different pieces if you even breathe wrong and he might be the only solid thing in your life.

“Whatever you do,” he says, “you don’t have to do it alone. Not if you don’t want to.”

“Aaron,” you start shakily, but he continues.

“I know what you think, and that’s not what I’m suggesting.” Aaron pauses for a moment, and it’s obvious how carefully he’s crafting his words. “I’ve… always regretted how we left things. And I regret losing touch with you. This isn’t the way I would’ve liked to meet you again. But I’m thankful I have.”

He pulls a card out of his shirt pocket and holds it out to you. You realize it’s his business card, and it’s got his number.

“I’m sorry for the formality,” he says dryly, “but I don’t exactly go around prepared to give out my number for purposes other than work.”

You take it without giving yourself the chance to think about it. You run your finger around the sharp edge of the cardstock, pressing the pad of your thumb against the corner.

“Years ago, you wished me a good life, and that you didn’t want to be involved in it,” he says, still treading carefully. You can’t believe he remembers the last thing you said to him. “But— but a lot has changed since then, and I hope that has as well.”

“I’d like you to be a part of my life again,” Aaron finally says, “if you want to be a part of mine.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Two and a half years of law school flash behind your eyes—coffee shop dates and endless hours spent studying at the library. Movie nights cuddled on his couch, hauling boxes out of your house at an ungodly hour to get away from your roommates. An unhealthy amount of all-nighters immediately followed by going out to celebrate a miracle of an A on an exam. Getting through every soul-sucking part of earning a J.D. together, falling apart before either of you could make it to the other side, and somehow…

Somehow, you’ve ended up on a completely different side together.

“My life isn’t going to be easy,” you say faintly. “Especially… moving through this.”

“My life isn’t easy either,” he says. “I’m divorced with a kid and I try to solve murders every day.”

“It’s not a contest.” An attempt at a joke, but it falls flat for you. Aaron’s lips still quirk at the edges the slightest bit.

“Getting through this certainly won’t be easy,” he agrees. “But I have more experience than most in these sorts of things. So if you ever need anything, call. Please.”

“I imagine you’re pretty busy,” you murmur. “Unit chief and all.”

Aaron shrugs. “I make time for the things I care about.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to figure out how to respond to that, because there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse walks in after you call a come in.

“It’s good to finally see you awake, sweetheart,” the nurse says with a smile. It warms you from the inside out.

“It’s nice to be awake,” you say. Her smile widens and she moves over to the computer in the side of the room—to add some things before she makes her checkup, you assume.

“I’ll give you some time alone,” Aaron says.

Before he can stand up, you grab his hand. It’s fully on instinct, and he looks just as surprised as you feel.

“Don’t go,” you plead, and it’s almost a whisper. “I— just— please.”

Aaron stares at you for a moment, that shock glinting in his eyes before it transforms into something a lot warmer. He nods and sits down.

“Okay.”

And he stays.

This time, he stays.

#i was truly possessed while writing this i can't understand it #i wrote 15k words in 5 days #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner imagine #sadie writes

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sea-of-dust · 10 months

Text

Unexpected Affection

Kafka, Stelle,Blade x GN!Reader

Summary: They never really showed this level of affection before...

Notes: 🗿 just gonna cram this in so those two people that unfollowed me come back. Had a werid urge to cram asuka in here he looks like one of those little fluff dogs, dude.

Warnings: suggestive humor and scenes, betrayed audience (IM SORRY 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️),Barely proofread

She's always showing you affection

Touching your hand if you were to sit across from her. Offering to carry you home if too tired. She's very happy to do things for you!

You think her being like this is almost her way of repaying you for being patient while she's out stellaron hunting

She'd text you whenever she was free she'd love seeing how fast you'd respond. "The missions taking a while, I'm sorry if I'm late" you'd type almost immediately after she sent that "don't worry about it! Stay safe." With a small thumbs up emoji afterword. Her heart melts, you can't be this cute.

She loves greeting you by getting home first and sitting down on the couch. "Long time no see~" "Kafka..." the way you say her name she wishes to record it. Your greeting smile and small sweets you prepare for her always make her warm up a bit.

"How did you know I was coming back?" She'd lean into the hug rubbing your arms with her thumb. "I don't so when you don't come back I just kinda eat those alone-" She takes a bag of those snacks with her now, how could you say something like that with a smile on your face-

The longest time she's been out was two months barely being able to text you. So as soon as the mission was done, she excused herself. Waiting for you to come home so she could great you.

"Kaf-" You couldn't even finish your sentence before she kissed you suddenly, holding your hands pinning one to the wall. She kisses you with an eagerness, almost a need for you. You pull away to catch your breath, she'd fail to hide her want for more almost hearts in her eyes. She goes back in holding your waist as she enjoys the long kisses in between short gasps for air. She'll get her fix of you,slipping her toungue in feeling yours squirm everytime they touch, she really can't get enough of you only backing off when she felt shes had enough. "I prepared dinner for us" she wraps her arms around your shoulders, leading you to the dining table completely decorated.

She pulls out a chair for you as you sit down with her and catch up. "So how was the stellaron?" "Alot more active than usual took too much work" a sigh escapes her lips. You two continue to chatter on while eating.

As soon as you two finish eating, she helps you clean up. She can't take your hands off you while you wash dishes. She slowly rock your waist to sync with her movements. She takes off her gloves to touch your face. "As unprovoked as ever" she mumbles leaning into you "Why yes it takes alot of focus to wash dishes" she smiles at the joke leaning in to kiss you "Why yes the dishes are quite a vicious foe"

She just likes being near you. You smell nice...also you're able to keep her from turning into the local raccoon.

you would catch her looking at trash, always somehow be there to pull her away last second. "Come on, Stelle!" You drag her away.

She'd like to place small kisses on your cheek whenever you're not paying attention. She almost did this infront of the star rail crew. "The next planet..." You grab her face, holding her there. "heard that place is hotter than 12 volcano" March and Dan Heng would kinda continue to convo with her kinda stuck there

She can't sleep without you nearby. She's like the demon in the dark you run up the stairs from. She'd just stand there in the doorway as the light kinda makes her look like a shadow. "Uhhh Stelle" "..." you're barely awake yet you could tell it was her. You tsk before lifting your blanket lazily. "Come here" she nearly runs into bed with you cuddling into you. "You need a night light...maybe I'll take one from March" you pat her head as she scoots closer to you.

You had a maid run up to you shrieking about someone jumping out of a closet. "I'll go check it out miss I'll contact you if you it's anything serious" you go to check the room walking in and closing the door. You hear something in the closet and peak in only to have the doors fly open, Stelle almost jumping out trying to stop herself realizing who it was. "So you jump scared the room service lady" she nods "....wanna try that on sampo?"

She gets caught up in boxing and actively shows off how good she is. She always looks for you in the audience and shows off her win. "Congrats Stelle, but put him down!"

She won't admit it but she maybe maybe- likes pda. Maybe she does like holding your hand in public or the thought of you kissing her without a care. You'll never get her to say it tho. She just brushes her fingers on yours, occasionally hoping you'd hold onto her hand.

You found her in a trash can as usual but this time one on her head. You looked at her flabbergasted. "Stelle- get that off of your-" you were interrupted by her pulling it up and kiss you. Her tongue slipping in a bit, lowering the trash can down for a bit of privacy. You pull away, "Stelle what the-" she kisses you again before you pull her off gently "wait till we're on the express k?" You blush softly. She pounts a bit but still waits pulling the trashcan lower.

Turns out she forgot when you got back to the express a few days later when she does remmber tho she nearly runs at you slamming your door. "Eh what?" You rub your eyes seeing the raccoon in all of her glory "Stelle?" Your eyes a bit hazy yet you could still tell it was her, she nearly jumps on you immediately taking off her jacket. "Youre always up to something-" she cuts you off putting a finger to your mouth "shush" she smirks teasingly "been waiting for this for a long while now~" her voice is so calm yet you could almost feel mischief radiating off of her.

She kisses you for a long while, only pulling away to catch her breath quickly going back to it moments later. She didn't even care when March came knocking, wondering where she was. If anything, she just became more passionate. She adores your little tired noises every time she does something to fluster you. The infamous rubbing circles in your back always managed to get an embrassed squeak out of you. As soon as you pull her off breathing heavily, she'll notice just how flustered she made you. Her job was complete staying with you that night so she could do it all again in the morning.

He isn't too open even when in a relationship

You know he loves you he just doesn't say it outloud. You usually have to make moves and he'd slowly respond to those things, he's almost confused. "You're so stiff" you hug him from behind "as stiff as a board~" leaning into him a bit. As you hug him he's not really sure what to do. Does he hug back backward? Does he turn around and hug you? Does he just embrace it? So may questions running through a very straight faced man

The quickest way you flustered him is when you ask about the future while laying your head on his lap. "Blade... you think you might settle down with me when there's no longer stellarons to hunt." He didn't move, but it was clear to see the blush on his face. As he softly pats your head, you could almost hear him mumble a "I want to..."

He offen tries to sneakily hold your hand. "Oh?" He would stay straight faced, holding your hand behind your backs. Gripping your hand a bit tighter sometimes. "Is this your way of being flustered?" "No" he'd squeeze your hand. "Uh huh"

He wants you to braid his hair. He'd sit down with his back facing you, and you'd be so confused. When you finally offered, you could tell he almost ran but didn't wanna embrass himself. "Alright, sit -" he sits with his back turned to you in the same spot as usual. "Oh...so THAT'S what you meant." "What did you think I mean?" "That you were mad at me. " "...." he got his hair braided but still sensed undying guilt

He'd be so confused if you bought him any sort of gift. He's grateful, but... how to use it. "Blade...it's a fake flower, and when ya open it!" You carefully twist off the bud. "It's a chapstick!" He looks down at it, then back at you,"are my lips that crusty. " "No! No! I just got it cause I thought you wanted one! Always notice you staring at mine when I use it" he doesn't tell you, but he's been wondering about indirect kissing via chapstick.

All this thinking of kissing is gonna get in the way of stellron hunting it's too the point Kafka picks up on it and starts teasing him. "Bladie~, you seem flustered." "..." she smirks. "Is it that cute person you're dating!" He's pink trying to hide it, but he's blushing just thinking of you. "Your little play thing surprised you haven't given up on revenge just to stay with them longer." she walks in circles around him, annoying him but fluttering him none the less

He caught you asleep while waiting for him, so he tried to sneak into your arms without waking you. He'd fail...horrendously. you'd feel soft breaths and your arms going around a figure patting your head as you slept. Jokes on him, after you caught him doing this for a multitude of times, you just decided to pretend not to wake. Hopefully, making him feel like he's getting better at this.

He hides his cravings to wanna kiss you, but when he wants them, it's so odvious. He stays around you more often with almost no room for air, his frown deepening and eyes softening almost as if softly begging for something.

When he finally acted on this urge, it was only when you figured it out, kissing his cheek as he turned into a blushing mess. "Oh ho~, it seems someone got a bit excited for that," you smirk teasingly, hugging him. "Did you want one of these too?" His breath was heavy, his hair covering some of his face, but you could tell you had him on the ropes. Suddenly, he cups your face and leans in hesitantly before kissing you, slowly getting more passionate as he grips the clothes near your waist. You softly laugh at this, hearing him scoff, taking this chance you kiss him again in a slightly teasing way as he fully embraces your affection. He gets more egar gripping your clothes a bit tighter as his small kisses turn into deep, long ones with short gaps for air. He'd look so ashamed whenever he pulled away for breath. "If you're tired, we could save it for later." You smirk teasingly. "...just one more," you kiss his cheek. "..." You smirk, kissing his lips. "You're cute whenever you want something, you know"

#hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #kafka x you #kafka x reader #stelle #stelle x reader #stelle x you #hsr blade #blade x you #blade x y/n #blade x reader #100 followers #100 follower special

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feyascorner · 3 months

Note

You writing is amazing! I eat it right up!

Now this idea has been stuck in my hand for a while. Tav that wants to give Astarion blood but are horrified of needles and that fear applies to his fangs. So when they try to give blood the instinctively move away even when Astarion "The bit comes in 3 2 1" but Tav insist on trying again. When Astarion finally gets some blood Tav straight just goes "Oh okay great" and faceplants in the ground. When they wake up again they say the weirdest shit because they are still whoozy something like "Hey Astarion do crabs think fish can fly?"

Anyway have a nice day :]

im crying they're so silly...also i wrote like the dumbest questions but they're genuine questions so pls if anyone has answers...

"Just do it."

He nods. "Very well."

"Wait, no, I need a countdown."

"Fine. Three...two..."

"Actually, it's too nerve-racking, just--"

Astarion pulls his face away from the crook of your neck, eyes lidded as he sighs. "Darling, if it's too difficult..."

"It's not that bad. I want to help you, and you said this would make you more powerful in battle," you insist, bursting with enthusiasm but not enough to will you through your deathly fear of needles---or anything sharp for that matter. "I've done it before, I can do it again."

"Yes, love, but the last time we did this, you had me do it while you were asleep. You also woke up and punched me in the chest, even though you're the one who suggested the idea."

"I can do it this time! Just try again!"

Despite his hesitance, he follows your request, gently inching you closer and leaning into your neck. His breath feels cool on your skin, but the second you feel him nearing too close, you pull away again instinctively. He doesn't even seem surprised this time.

"Okay, maybe we should just do it while I'm sleeping again-"

He grabs either side of your face, pressing a kiss on your cheek and then another on the side of your nose. He trails down to your chin, and before you can even tell what he's doing, your face is flushed in embarrassment. So much so that you don't even realize he's trailed down your chin and his fangs are now right at your neck. "What are you--"

It pricks.

Astarion tries to make it brief, regardless of how badly he wants to drink more, because he can sense how limp you feel in his arms. He pulls away, licking at the excess on his lips with a triumphant grin. "There. Exquisite as always."

But you only stare at him blankly. His smile drops. It worries him.

"Oh, okay," you blink. "That's great."

You would've face planted straight into the floor had he not barely grabbed you by the back of your shirt.

You only awake a few hours later, groggily rubbing at your eyes while Astarion looms over you with pursed lips, and you wonder how long he's been sitting here. When your eyes peel open, he groans, shoulders slumping in relief.

"There you are, I thought I'd nearly killed you again!" he smiles, reaching for a plate of fruits beside your bedroll. "Now feed yourself before you go and pass out on me aga--"

"Your hair reminds me of a white rat I saw last week."

He stops.

"Why do you think Karlach's underwear doesn't burn off? Are they enchanted? I want enchanted underwear."

Ah, he realizes. You've finally lost your mind.

Your lips stretch dreamily. "Maybe I can ask Withers to make my underwear glow in the dark."

"No, before we move on, let's discuss that rat comment."

"Do crabs think fish can fly?"

"I---I suppose they would?..." He's at a loss of words, which is especially rare for him.

You blink wearily at him, staring at a spot on the wall behind his head. He'd think your confusion to be adorable if it weren't for the borderline offensive comments you were spouting out like a broken water fountain. "Do vampires poop, Astarion?"

You've crossed the borderline now. He runs a hand down his face, sighing. "Please stop talking, my love."

"You can technically eat food, even though it tastes bad, right?" you raise a brow, squinting at him. "So where does that food go? Do you poop it out or does it just kind of slide ou--"

"Okay, that's quite enough talking for today," he shoves an apple into your mouth. He snickers at how you struggle to take a bite. "No more questions until you finish the entire bowl."

Fortunately for him, you fall back asleep before you're even finished with the apple. And he's grateful you do because even he himself doesn't know the answer to that question.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff

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sundays-wing-piercing · 3 months

Note

Sunday also has me in delulu land and has been rotting my brain nonstop since doing the penacony quest

Keep thinking about drunk confessing or kissing him >.< He's so pretty and I feel like I would 1000% blurt that out to him after a few drinks

OMG this has also been plaguing my mind after that one post Pixelplays made

So imagine him hearing that you've had a bit too much to drink and so he comes to fetch you. He finds you barely awake at a table and laughs a bit before taking a seat next to you. You're eyes finally open at the realization that it's him and you give him a drunken smile while happily saying his name.

He's clearly amused by how adorable you're being but what caught him off guard was the kiss you greeted him with. Your hands roam to his hair to hold it in place as the other dangles on his neck. Man is both red and speechless when you pull away from him leaving him breathless. It doesn't help how you look at him through half lidded eyes and with a soft smile you blurt out an "I love you" before falling asleep in his lap.

Great. Now he has to carry you back. But let's be honest, what is it that Sunday would not do for his darling? The one he loves oh so much. You will not escape the incoming teasing next morning.

Hi im slowly going insane for this man I love him thank you so much for sending in this ask as always feel free to send in another if its not to your liking!!

#my husband #ai rants #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader

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imagines4thefandoms · 1 year

Text

Family for Christmas

“Merry Christmas love,” Henry said kissing your shoulder as you slept.

“No it’s too early for Christmas. It doesn’t start til 7 not 8,” you said turning your head to face your boyfriend and pulled the blanket over your head.

“Well I hear little feet that says it’s now,” he commented hearing your son running from his room to the living room and now heading to your room.

You and Henry have been dating for 2 years now and your son loves him more than he loves you. And you know Henry adores your son. Sometime you notice Henry spends more time with Scott than he does with you which warms your heart. Scott needs a man in his life and Henry has been a great influence on your 6 year old.

“Mommy, Henry wake up. Santa came it’s Christmas,” Scott yelled jumping on the bed landing on Henry’s stomach.

“No Santa said we can’t open presents til 8,” you said pulling the blanket from over your head and pulling your overly energetic son into your arms.

“No mommy, Santa didn’t say that. We open presents in the morning. It’s morning,” Scott said trying to wake you up.

“How about we make mommy a cup of coffee and see if that will wake her up,” Henry offered pulling Scott over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

You rolled onto your back and watched your loving boyfriend and your son head to the kitchen to make you coffee. Henry never hesitated or was put off because you are a single mother. After he met Scott he said it didn’t bother him, he just has two best friends. Everything about how Henry is with Scott made you love him so much more but you were taking things slow for Scott’s sake. You didn’t want him to get confused or too attached incase things didn’t work out but based on the laughter in the kitchen Scott would definitely take your boyfriends side in any fight over yours.

A few seconds later your two boys came back into the room with a giant cup of coffee with whip cream and sprinkles on top. Scott had a giant smile on his face and a bit of whip cream on the corner of his lips.

“Oh wow, this looks amazing,” you said sitting up and taking the cup from your 6 year old.

“I did it all by myself, Henry didn’t help at all,” Scott explained excitingly. His eye were wide with pride as he waited for you to take a sip.

“Oh it’s the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had,” you said putting the cup on the night stand and pulled him into a hug.

“Really, mommy,” he asked looking up at you.

“Oh yes, if you can make me this every morning I would never go to Starbucks ever again.”

You took another sip of the overly sweet coffee and your son jumped off the bed and grabbed Henry’s sweater that was lying on the chair in the room and threw it at you.

“Now presents. I’ve fed the mommy monster now I want my presents…… please,” he said with a cute smile and a tilt of his head.

“I don’t think calling the mommy monster that to her face was a smart idea,” Henry said stepping away from your son.

“Im not a mommy monster,” you said throwing your pillow at your boyfriend.

“Yeah your a lot nicer after your have your coffee. Less monstery,” your son said standing front of your boyfriends trying to protect him.

You laughed and threw Henry’s pillow at your son but Henry caught it before it hit him in the face. Your boyfriend picked your son up and they ran out of the room yelling for you to get up. You put on Henry’s sweater and grabbed your coffee walking out of your room into the living room.

There were maybe 20 presents under the tree. Mostly from Santa cause you were not going to spoil you kid. Henry on the other hand could never say no to your kid so he definitely has a few gift hidden from you for Scott. Your son was hitting by the tree with a present in his lap and talking to Henry about what toy he thinks Santa brought him. Henry was waiting for you on the couch with a fluffy blanket.

“The sun is barely awake. I’ll give you 20 bucks if we can sleep for another hour,” you tried to bribe your son.

“No presents, this is for you Henry,” your son said grabbing the present in his lap and brought it over to you furnace of a boyfriend.

“Thanks buddy,” he said opening it up.

It was a superman Christmas sweater with the big “S” on the front and a cape on the back. Scott saw it in the store the other day and kept saying he had to get it for Henry that he would love it and wear it all the time.

“DO you like it,” Scott asked jumping up and down.

“I love it buddy,” he said getting up off the couch and putting it on. “How do I look?”

“Super,” Scott said running and jumping into his arms.

Scott was explaining the sweater with the symbol and the cape while you got up and grabbed a couple presents so the three of you could stay under the warm blanket. You expected all three of the presents to be for Scott but was shocked to see your name on one of them.

“What is this,” you asked holding up your present.

“Its a gift mommy,” Scott said running over to you and pulling you onto the couch so you could open it.

“Hen, I thought we said no gifts,” you scorned your loving boyfriend.

“Well I got this amazing gift so,” he said standing in the superman pose.

You laughed and shook you head at the man who was a giant child. You opened the present and inside was a pandora bracelet box. You opened it and saw it was a silver charm bracelet with S and H dangling from it.

“Oh my god this is beautiful,” you said wiping a tear from your eye.

“I helped pick it out mommy. S for Scott and H for Henry. When you wear it you will know we love you. So never take it off,” Scott said taking the bracelet and trying to put it on your wrist but failing.

Henry leaned over and helped him out and watched you admire your new piece of jewelry. You kissed your sons head then stood up and pulled Henry in for a kiss.

“I love it,” you said kissing all over his face causing a small “eww” to come from behind you.

“Merry Christmas darling,” Henry said returning the gesture of a millions kisses getting a fake gaging sound from Scott.

“Gross. There is no kissing on Christmas just presents,” Scott said opening his gifts.

He got actions figures, legos to build with Henry, a switch so he could play some video games with Henry, books and nerf guns. There were no other presents under the tree but Scott held u his little finger and ran in to his room and came back out with a poorly wrapped gift with way too much tape and glue.

“Merry Christmas Henry,” Scott said handing the gift over and taking a big step back to watch his reaction.

Hen looked over at you but you had no idea what this gift was. He slowly opened it and saw it was a framed drawing of the three of you. You then noticed that there was a dog flying in the background which was probably Kal.

“I drew it for you,” Scott said slowly stepping forward and making his way between you and hen.

Once he sat down he pointed out every little detail of the photo. After he just stared up at Henry who was still silently staring at the photo.

“You don’t like it,” Scott sadly said filling the silence trying to take the photo back.

Henry pulled Scott into a hug and you noticed that his cheeks were wet. Henry pulled your son into his lap and kissed his head.

“I love it buddy. It’s an amazing picture of all the people I love,” Henry reassured as he kissed Scott head again.

“You really like it,” Scott said happily looking up at him.

“Yes, it’s the most important thing I own now. I’m going to take it with me everywhere I go so I know I have the two most amazing people waiting for me.”

“I love you Henry,” Scott said wrapping his little arms around Hen’s neck.

“I love you too, buddy.”

You left those two to play with the new toys while you started getting ready for Christmas dinner at your parents. You were in the kitchen making a few things and just listening to Henry explain to Scott how to play some game. While the food was being set aside in the fridge to be cooked at your parents house you noticed it was almost 8 am and decided to start making breakfast.

“Scotty what do you want for breakfast,” you asked looking in the fridge making a mental note of what you had and what you needed to get when you go to the store in a couple of days.

“Get dressed,” you heard Henry said walking into the kitchen and closing the fridge.

“Where are we going,” you asked before making sure Scott wasn’t looking then kissed Henry.

“I’m taking you guys to breakfast. So you don’t tire yourself with cooking so much today.”

“But I don’t wanna,” you whined thinking about wearing actually clothes this early on Christmas.

“Grab a pair of my sweatpants and meet me and Scott in the car in 5 minutes,” he warned slapping you ass.

Scott was waiting by the door with one of his non-superman action figures and his coat and rain boots. You gently slapped Henry’s chest and went to your room to do just at he said. When you finished getting dress Henry and Scott where already in the car jamming out to Christmas music.

“Mommy do I have to sit in my car seat i’m a big boy. This is for babies,” he complained sitting next to the car seat.

“How far away is the restaurant,” you asked looking at Henry.

“8 minutes tops,” he replied.

“Ok but you sit right and sit back. I’ll have to get you a booster seat later,” you said placing your hand on Henry’s thigh trying not to cry cause your baby is growing up.

Henry waited til he was sure Scott was buckled and sitting right to start the car. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that every so often he would look in the rear view mirror to make sure Scott was siting right. Henry held your hand as Christmas music played and Scott was in the back playing. It wasn’t long til Henry pulled into the IHop parking lot. As soon as Scott saw we were at his favorite restaurant he started leaning forward and jumping in his seat.

“Scott buddy you need to sit still. I know you’re excited but its dangerous if you don’t sit right,” Henry said stopping the vehicle in the middle of the parking lot.

“Im sorry,” you son said sitting right which prompted hen to park the car.

The three of you got out of the vehicle and went to grab a table. Scott walked up to the hostess wished her a merry Christmas then asked for a table.

“Of course sir, just follow me,” she said grabbing menus and headed further into the building.

The waitress stopped at a booth and asked Scott if this table was acceptable and he responded with a Kurt nod. She placed the menus on the table and walked away. You sat on one side with Scott and Henry sat across from the two of you.

“I want hot chocolate and a smiley face pancake and bacon,” Scott said looking at everything in the menu.

“Ok scotty,” you said messing up his hair.

The waitress came back and Scott ordered his food and Henry ordered 2 more hot chocolates, French toast for you and a breakfast sampler for him. While you waited for the food, Scott was explaining how excited he was to go to visit Henry’s family for a late Christmas next week.

“I wanna see the guards with the silly hats. Can I get a silly hat,” Scott asked.

“If we can find one yeah,” Henry said.

It didn’t take long for the food to come and when it did the three of you sit ate in silence. In the middle of eating a boy around the age of 12 came up to the table holding a notebook and a pen.

“Im sorry to bother you but can I have your autograph,” he asked Henry.

Henry held up his hand cause the kid came up to the table when he was mid bite. You grabbed the book from the kid and placed it in front of Henry.

“Of course he will,” you reassured the kid.

After Henry got his food down, he signed the notebook and smiled at his sweater.

“I got that for him,” Scott said staring the kid down.

“Its so cool that you know superman,” the kid told Scott.

A second later an older man came up and apologized for the kid interrupting our meal. He tried to take the kid away but then he asked for a photo.

“Sure,” Henry said wiping his hands and his mouth then getting up from the booth.

He took one photo and once the kid was satisfied he ran off and told his mother all about meeting superman. Henry sat back down and Scott went to sit next to him.

“What’s wrong buddy,” he asked gently nudging him with his elbow.

“Why did he want a photo,” Scott asked.

“Cause i’m famous buddy, a lot of people ask for photos and autographs.”

Once Scott wrapped his head around Henry’s famousness he finished scarfing down his breakfast and talked about how he wanted to play his new video game with Henry before we left for Christmas dinner.

“Sure but we have to help mom clean up and cook first.”

Scott reluctantly agreed and finished his food. The waitress came back to the table and left the check on the table. Henry left money on the table and a nice tip as you left the restaurant. The car ride home Scott sat without being told to sit back or anything. And once you got back home you cleaned up the wrapping paper that was all over the place and Scott grabbed your coffee mug while Henry went to help put Scott’s new things away in his room. Seeing that you still had 4 hours til you had to head out you went to lay down for a bit longer seeing how you were rudely woken up.

Henry and Scott came into the room too which would have made you whine in protest but Henry sat you up so you can sleep on him and Scott sat next to you and you three just laid in the bed. You slept while Henry was playing some game on the switch with your son.

You woke up to Henry kissing your head. The shower in your room was running and you could hear Scott laughing and water splashing.

“Wake up love, it’s time to get ready. Scott is taking a bath and I have your shower running,” he whispered tearing the sheets off you.

He left you to attend to Scott and you just heard Scott yell ‘ho ho ho’ which meant he had a bubble beard. You slowly got up out of bed and hopped in the warm shower. You were enjoying the hot water hitting your back when you heard Scott come into the bathroom.

“Mommy I don’t want to wear a suit,” he whined.

“Grandma loves when you wear a suit,” you told him.

“But I get I don’t like it. I want to stay in my pjs,” he stomped his feet.

“How about suit no jacket,” you suggested.

“Can I wear my cape.”

“Yes.”

“Deal,” he said closing his eyes and sticking his hand in the shower to shake.

You shook his hand and pushed him out of the bathroom. While you were washing your hair, the door to the bathroom opened again.

“Scott we already made a deal,” you shouted thinking it was your son.

“Not Scott. He’s picking out his cape,” Henry said getting undressed and stepping into the shower with you.

You felt his hands on your waist and let out a small shriek.

“Henry, Scott could come in any second,” your said slapping his hands.

You quickly finished your shower and got out so you wouldn’t have to pay for your son’s therapy in the future. After you got out of the shower you wrapped yourself in a towel and started drying your hair.

“I want to apologize in advance for that you are about to experience Hen,” you told him as you stared at your reflection.

“Ive been to your family dinners before what’s going to be different,” he asked sticking his head out.

You looked at him and saw that his head was covered in his shampoo and just smiled at the domestic vibe of everything.

“Well there’s going to be people you haven’t met there and whom I don’t like so there’s that.”

“Judgmental aunt,” he questioned.

“No you met my judgmental aunt and you know that my family doesn’t mean have the stupid stuff they say but these people do. They don’t jokingly judge they judge judge and think they have an opinion in your life and want to give you relationship advice on a guy who’s a dead beat and you are better off without but insist you should give him another go cause its how a family is suppose to be,” you ranted not realizing til Henry let out a joking whistle.

“Sorry,” you said putting your hairdryer down and sitting on the toilet.

“Don’t apologize,” he comforted still sticking his head out of the shower. “You’ve never mention Scott’s father before.”

“Cause he’s not worth mentioning. He was super excited about having a baby but after 9 months of Scott being born he said its not what he expected. Not as fun and exciting. It was too hard for him,” you confessed.

“Well he’s stupid. Scott’s amazing,” he responded going back to his shower.

“He is, but it still hurts you know. I see his face when a father son event comes around and he says he can’t go. Scott doesn’t deserve a dead beat for a father. Philip hasn’t even sent a card or called for his birthday.”

The shower turned off and Henry stepped out and grabbed the towel hanging on the rack. After covering up he knelt in front of you and held your hands.

“You are an amazing mother raising that amazing kid all by yourself. Don’t let anyone try to convince you differently. I’ve seen children with both parents around be a complete arsehole. And your son isn’t an arsehole so that’s an achievement.”

“God I love you,” you said grabbing his face and firmly pressing your lips against his.

“I love you too, now let’s get ready,” he said standing up and pulling you up with him.

You went back to drying your hair while Henry went to get dressed. To make Scott feel better he decided to wear a suit like him. After you did your hair and make up, you put on your simple green dress. When you walked out Henry was helping Scot with his tie which matched your dress. Scott decided to wear his superman cape because it was red which is a Christmas color.

“Lets go I wanna see grandma and becky and willy,” Scott said standing like superman then running around the room so his cape flowed in the wind.

“Wait, we gonna do the bet,” you said taking your wallet and placed a 20 on the table.

“Um i'll eat all my vegetables and i'll go to bed an hour early,” Scott offered.

“And you will pick up without having to be asked.”

“That’s asking for to much mommy. Don’t get your hopes up. Veggies and early bed take it or leave it,” he offers holding his hand out causing you to chuckle.

“What’s the time,” Henry asked.

“2 hours,” you stated.

“Ok i’ll double it if you can go the entire time, from start to end no stain no mess,” Henry said putting another 20 on the table.

“5 hours can you do that Scott,” you asked putting the money in an envelope and handing it to Henry.

“Yes I can, I hate veggies,” Scott replied.

With the family bet made you piled into the car and started to head to your mothers house. Since your mother’s house was pretty far away, Scott had to sit in his car seat which he wasn’t happy about.

“Mommy when I win I’m getting a new car seat. One for big kids,” he said crossing his arms in anger.

“Okay baby, first thing tomorrow we will get you a new one,” you said reaching behind you and gripping his foot.

Henry placed his hand on your thigh and gave you a reassuring squeeze as you looked out of the window.

“Henry if things get heated please take Scott somewhere else,” you asked him.

“Things didn’t get heated last year,” he questioned.

“I was still trying to impress you,” you joked holding his hand.

“If it gets too much we can leave for England tonight and never come back,” he joked.

“Don’t joke Hen cause I might take you up on that.”

Even though you stomach churned as you got closer to your mother’s having Hen touching you settled the butterflies. Sometime you still don’t believe he’s your boyfriend. You can’t believe how lucky you’ve been with him coming into yours and Scott’s life. When you pulled up to the house your niece becky was outside with your siblings.

As soon as the car stopped Scott unbuckled and jumped out of the vehicle to hug his aunt and uncle. “Happy Christmas,” he shouted before hugging becky and running inside.

Becky ran over to you and jumped into your arms but then went to Henry. She held her hand out and tugged his hair a bit. Her mother ran over and apologized before taking her from your boyfriend.

“She just started walking and she can’t be stopped,” you brother stated.

“Scott is still that way,” you warned him.

After helping him get becky’s diaper bag and play pen the four of you walked into the house. Your mother was in the kitchen. She turned and looked at you and engulfed you in a hug.

“My baby I’ve missed you,” she cried like she hadn’t seen you last week. “Were the food.”

Before you could even stress about leaving the food Henry put the diaper bag down and said they were in the car. He walked out and came back in with 3 dishes. He put them in the oven and came back to give you a kiss.

“You really are super,” you joked laying your head on his chest.

You walked around the house greeting everyone and were having an amazing time. Til the front door opened and you could just feel the judgment fill the room. Your uncle’s mother, Brenda walked in with her bags of gifts and her nasty perfume.

She walked in greeting everyone with kisses to the cheek. After she greeted you she announced she has brought a guest. And as if this night couldn’t get worse, in walked in your ex Philip.

“Hey, (y/n),” he said wrapping you in a hug. Which you was accepted just because you were too shocked to protest.

“What are you doing here Philip,” you asked coming to your senses and pushing him off you.

At the sound of your ex’s name Henry placed his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. Philip glared at the motion then turned back to Brenda.

“I ran into Philip the other day and just thought how long it’s been since he’s been to a family event and thought it would be nice to see him again,” she said putting her purse on the table and taking a seat.

“Nice for whom,” you asked louder than you expected.

“He’s family dear. It was time you moved past your childish behavior and did want was best for Scott. He needs his father,” she said ignoring the looks of disgust on your face.

“I don’t see him anywhere all I see is a dead beat who thought a baby was too boring and wanted excitement so he left,” you whisper yelled worried that Scott would hear from outside where he was playing.

“You kicked me out,” Philip objected.

“You wouldn’t even look at Scott without this distain for him like he ruined your life.”

“Dear, stop being so dramatic you need to do the right thing and have a normal family. You don’t want to confuse Scott,” Brenda said stating her unwanted opinion.

The back door opened and in walked Scott. Philip started walking over to him but Scott looked at him like a stranger which, he was, then ran over to Henry.

“Henry can you come play. Willy and Becky are the supervillains and I need your help to save the city,” he said pulling his hand not waiting for his answer.

Knowing things were going south, he let Scott pull him outside. But Philip stoped him and knelt before your son.

“Hey buddy it’s me dad,” he said as if he’s been gone are a year not his entire life.

“Not your buddy,” he said pushing past him causing you to let out a chuckle.

“Really, you turned our son against me,” Philip yelled after the door closet.

“Can’t turn him against someone who has never been in his life. I never told him about you cause I didn’t want him to know that you met him, spent 9 months with him and the thought ‘nah I don’t want him’.”

“That man your dating is not his father and I don’t see why your letting him treat him like one,” Brenda butted in.

“Im doing no such thing. Henry is just being himself. He loves Scott and has been there for him for the past two year. Two year. You could stand to be in Scott’s presence for 9 months. So as far as i’m concern your not his father either,” you yelled.

“I have a right to my son. And I don’t want that man around him,” Philip said sitting down as if he was having the last word. “And i’m going to take him til school starts again.”

“What,” you nearly screamed. “You are not taking MY son for even a second.”

Guessing your were too loud Scott ran in worried about you. Philip pulled him into a hug and you could see the uncomfortable look on your sons face. He tried to wiggle out but Philip wouldn’t let him.

“Scotty you’re going to come home with daddy and we are going to spend time together,” he said ruffling his hair.

“What about the England trip and my funny hat,” he questioned.

“We are still going baby, Philip is joking,” you reassured him mentally pleading for someone to remove your child from his arms.

“What trip,” Philip asked gripping your son’s arms.

You could feel the anger seeping from every inch of his body. Philip was never violent but he doesn’t have the patience to take care of a child.

“We are going to have second Christmas with Henry’s family in London next week. We are leaving on Wednesday,” he explain still trying to get out.

Henry stepped closer to Scott hoping to grab him but Philip snapped at him to stay away from his son which cause Scott to go from uncomfortable to scared.

“Mommy what’s going on,” Scott asked.

“Nothing baby, Philip is going to let go of you and your going to go outside til us adult solve a little problem,” you said in a calming voice trying to sooth your son’s fear.

“I’m his father, you’re not taking him out of the country without me and definitely not with him,” Philip said nodded his head towards Henry who was starting to get angry.

“Ow,” Scott said as Philip gripped his arm tighter.

“Let him go now,” Henry whisper yelled not wanting to scare Scott even more.

“You do not tell me how to deal with my child,” Philip said pushing Scott off his lap and standing up.

“Leave now,” you mother said checking on Scott before she ushered him outside. “You are not and will never be welcomed here.”

“Not without my son,” Philip said taking a step to the back door.

Henry blocked him. Philip tried to step around him and Henry wasn’t going to let him anywhere near Scott.

“Jesus (y/n) that man has no right to stop Philip from seeing his son this is a family event. I’m not sure why he is here anyway,” Brenda yelled standing up for Philip.

“Henry is my family he is Scott’s family. Philip is not, you are not. Your my uncle’s mother you are not my family so why are you here. And I don’t see how any of this is your business. You have never and will never have a decision or opinion that is relevant to how I raise my son,” you yelled back at her.

“How dare you speak to me that way. I’m worried for Scott cause you are not doing a great job raising him I mean look at how rude he has been and disrespectful,” she stated.

“Enough,” Henry stated raising his voice scaring you a little as how you haven’t heard him this angry. “I won’t stand here and listen to you question her parenting. (Y/n) has been a mother and a father to Scott for 6 years. While you decided being a father wasn’t worth it, she didn’t waver to it for a second. And I may not be his father but i’m never going to abandon him. And as much as I would love to take credit for a fraction of the kid he is, I haven’t and wouldn’t dare try to parent him that’s not my job but I do stand by her every decision.”

“You have no right to speak to me that way,” Brenda cried.

“I do when you keep trying to tear down the woman I love and plan to spend the rest of my life with,” he said looking over at you.

You could see in his eye that he want to come hold you not to give you strength but to get some from you but he didn’t want to give Philip a direct line to Scott. The room fell into an awkward silence when the kids came back inside cause it was too cold. Scott quickly came to sit next to you and Henry was not far behind.

“Is the problem solved,” Scott asked.

“For now yes, but are you hungry,” you asked him.

“Yes I want ham and Mac and cheese and 3 biscuits,” he said with a smile looking at Henry mentally asking him to make his plate.

Before Henry could get up Philip made the plate and placed it in front of Scott. He looked at the plate then at Philip then Henry and laughed.

“These are scones not biscuits silly,” he said taking the biscuits off.

“Those are biscuits,” Philip said confused.

“He mean cookies,” you stated. “He’s been learning some of the English slang from Henry.”

This time Henry got up and got the cookies that Scott wanted. One by one people went to fix themselves a plate but the awkwardness didn’t fade. After dinner it was time for presents. With the presents it was like the giant fight that we had before never happened. That was until Philip opened his mouth.

“So Scott did Santa bring you everything you asked for,” he asked sitting down next to him as he played with his new race cars.

“No,” Scott said nonchalantly.

“Baby, what did you want,” you asked him worried that you forgot something major.

“I don’t want to say. I might make you upset or mad,” he said not looking up.

“Oh baby nothing you can say right now will make me upset or mad. What did you want for Christmas,” you asked siting next to him and forcing him to look at you.

His eye went from you to Philip to Henry to your mother then back to you. “I want Henry to be my dad,” he said putting the toys down.

You sister stood up and announced that she planned a scavenger hunt for the kids and took them back outside. She was out there for a few minutes then came back in stating they are going to be preoccupied for half an hour at best.

“What the fuck,” Philip yelled as soon as the back door closed.

“Calm down,” you told Philip.

“Why when you are trying to get my son to replace me with your current booty call,” he yelled waving his hands around.

“Im doing no such thing and he is my son. You don’t get the right to call him your son when you’ve been out of his life more than you have been in it. And don’t go blaming Henry for any of this either. Don’t get mad cause he constantly makes Scott feel loved and safe and happy,” you yelled back.

“I don’t trust him around Scott he is not family,” Brenda said once again thinking she had a say in the matter.

“Oh but you would trust your husband to watch my son or your grandkids even though he’s in jail for touching little kids,” you announced.

“Damn,” you heard you brother laugh under his breath.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. That was all a lie,” she stuttered out.

“I’ve been nice Brenda. I’ve listen to you nag about what is best for a kid you see once a year or twice at most. I’ve been nice for the sake of my mother and my sister but i’m done. I don’t want to hear another word in relation to Scott or my relationship with Henry come out of your mouth ever again. So you’re going to sit there and just wait keep your mouth shut which we make everyone here happy,” you scorned her then turned to Philip, “I’d rather not take this to court cause I shouldn’t have too. If you would have walked in here and apologized and asked if you could see Scott I would have probably said yes but no you come in here all fragile masculinity type demanding to see him and then you have the nerve to scare him and hurt him. So consider this your informal serving. When we get back from London i’m getting a lawyer and fighting for legal fully custody.”

You could see the anger filling his face as you pressed your index finger against his chest with every word of your threat. Philip grabbed your hand and twisted it.

“Im not going to let you keep Scott away from me,” he growled twisting you wrist more causing you to cry out in pain.

Henry grabbed Philips wrist where he was hurting you and squeezed til he let go of your hand. “Touch her or Scott again and I will hurt you,” he threatened as he turned to come check on you.

In all of the commotion you didn’t notice Scott run back in the house and open the front door. Two police officers walked in and tried to calm everyone down. Henry gently took your arm to check you wrist when Philip tapped on his shoulder and went to punch him in the face but without thinking Henry dodged the fist and Philip ended up hitting you on the chin.

You didn’t even register the punch all you hear was Scott crying out and you just wanted to see is Scott was ok.

“Shit, darling are you okay,” Henry asked touching your chin causing you to wince.

The officers slammed Philip against the wall and put him in cuffs then pushed him on the floor. The female officer walked over to you then radioed for EMS to come check you out.

“Ma’am are you okay,” the female officer asked trying to get your attention.

“Where’s Scott,” you asked wincing as you moved your mouth.

Suddenly little arms wrapped around your neck and you could feel the little tears fall from his cheek to your neck.

“I called them mommy cause you said to call when you need help and that guy wasn’t listening and he was scary,” Scott confessed as he sat back and looked at your face.

“You did the right thing kid,” the female officer told him. “You were really brave.”

“The bravest,” you said pulling him into another hung.

Philip started to yell that he was Scott’s father but the male officer told him to shut up then brought him out to the police vehicle.

“I don’t want a dad if he’s it. I just want a mommy and a Henry.”

After EMS came and checked you out and you gave the officers your statements, you and Scott sat on the couch and watched the grinch. Henry was in the kitchen grabbing you a bag of ice seeing how you refused to go to the hospital. Your aunt stood up and let out a small laugh saying how Henry ruined Christmas.

“I hope you’re happy about breaking up a family,” she commented pouring herself some wine.

“Goodbye mother,” you heard your uncle say as he held up his mothers purse. “I speak for everyone here when I say go home.”

She was in shock but left once she saw how no one was coming to her defense. She slowly walked out the door and your mother slammed it shut behind her and locked it. Everyone sat down on the couch and you rested your head on Henrys shoulder as he gently pressed the ice to your chin.

“Well seeing how (y/n) is the family disappointment it doesn’t matter that I dropped out of college does it,” you cousin announced trying to lighten the mood.

You let out a small laugh making your chin hurt. Even your uncle laughed til he realized his daughter wasn’t joking.

“Im sorry you what,” he asked angrily.

“Henry is the home wrecker,” she cried trying to get the attention off her.

“Good cause you two are mine,” Henry whispered in you ear holding on to you tighter.

You lifted your head and placed a small kiss on his shoulder. Scott looked around the room and then got off the couch and ran outside. Your mother gave you a confused look and went to go after him but you stopped her.

“I’ve got it,” you said getting up and dropping the bag of ice in Henry’s lap.

You found Scott outside in the rocking chair crying. You knelt in front of him and just rubbed his knee.

“What’s wrong baby,” you asked him.

“I ruined Christmas,” he cried out hiding his face in his hands.

“You did no such thing.”

“I made everyone fight.”

“Sweety, it’s Christmas. It’s a time where family get together after not see each other for a while. There’s bound to be a fight but that’s ok cause families fight but we still love each other and we still show up for other family event,” you explained to him. “I’d be worried if we didn’t fight.”

“Do you and Henry fight,” he asked finally taking his hands out of his face.

“Yes we do,” you told him wiping the tears off his face.

“We fight about me leaving my smelly socks around, and when she takes forever to get ready for an event for my work but it’s always my fault,” Henry said kneeling next to you.

You didn’t hear him come outside but glad he did cause a smile appeared on Scott’s face when he told him what you fight about.

“But your still here,” Scott stated processing that fighting doesn’t mean leaving.

“Of course I am. I love your mummy even when she puts her feet on me when she is cold or when she wakes me up when she can’t sleep but she doesn’t know I know that,” he told Scott whispering the last part. “And I love you even when you think batman is better and even when you steal the last bite of my food. I’m not going anywhere. And god forbid your mum is ever tired of me and we break up, you are still my best friend and I will always be there for you.”

Scott jumped into into Henry’s arms and let out a little cry. “I still want you to be my daddy Henry.” Henry pushed Scott back so he could look at him and wipe any remaining tears away.

“I was going to wait til we got to England but your son is stubborn and persistent,” Henry said reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a little black box. “I know how you hate doing anything cheesy in front of family but I want both of you and your family and the entire world to know you guys are stuck with me and I’m stuck with you two. No matter the fights. My world is so much better with you guys in it.” Henry opened the box and there was a beautiful ring with with a rose gold band and an emerald stone.

“Henry,” you cried as he slid the ring on your finger.

“Will you marry me?”

You were too busy crying and looking at the ring so you didn’t answer which was stressing Scott out. “Say yes mommy. I promise to clean up for a whole month.”

Henry let out a laugh and you slowly started to nod your head. “Yes i’ll marry you,” you said throwing yourself in his arms cause the three of you to fall the ground. Henry gently grabbed your face and firmly pressed his lips against yours. He let you go when he heard you wince but you didn’t let him get far. You pulled him back to you and ignored the pain.

“Can I call him it now,” Scott asked standing up.

You let out a laugh and nodded your head not caring about what your family will think or how it would make Philip feel.

“I love you daddy,” Scott screamed as he jumped on Henry.

“Love you too, buddy.”

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader

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co6kiesvr · 1 year

Note

do you write for neymar? if so can you please do one where he’s jealous and they fight and sleep in separate rooms and he comes back and it’s fluffy after

maybe i do like them touching me. at least they actually pay attention to me.hi love! sure!!

genre: angst to fluff

quick a/n: this was written in spanish, i didn't know he mainly speaks portuguese! im so so sorry!!

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⚽ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

you and neymar’s friends were actually quite close, at first they didn’t really like you. but now, you were all great friends

in neymar’s view, you might have been a little too great. don’t get him wrong, he likes that his friends like you and there aren’t any problems between you two. but, sometimes he wished you weren’t that close

today was the day he finally snapped, you were with his friends, laughing and joking around. it was all okay at first, until they began touching you. one touching your shoulder, the other your arm, one of them touched your hair too

who the hell told them they were allowed to touch what’s his?

“mi amor, tenemos que irnos, ahora.” neymar said as he held your hand tightly (my love, we have to go, now.)

“what—but, por qué? Paso algo?” you said, furrowing your eyebrows as he began pulling you away even harder (why? did something happen?)

“we’re leaving.” was all he said as his friends stared at you two, confused, while you were feeling the embarrassment taking over

he pulled you away outside to the car, putting you inside, himself, then driving away.

the drive was completely silent, not one of you uttered a single word.

once you got home, you were quick to leave the car before him, and go to your room where you sat there quietly

he followed you into the room, staring at you for a second before speaking up

“what, you’re not gonna talk to me now?” he said, “i had no choice! you were certainly having fun with all of them touching you”

“you cannot be fucking serious right now!” you yelled, “me estabas mirando todo el tiempo, and now you’re jealous? you never trust me! you act like i'll cheat on you opr something!” you snapped (you were glaring at me the entire time)

“i wasn’t glaring at you, i was glaring at them! it’s like you were their girlfriend, not mine. y no les estabas diciendo exactamente que se detuvieran ahora verdad” he yelled back (and you weren't exactly telling them to stop now were you)

“what are you trying to say. hm? that i like your friends touching me even if i don’t want them to?! you know what? tal vez me gusta que me toquen. al menos en realidad me prestan atención.” you said, (maybe i do like them touching me. at least they actually pay attention to me.

“oh, now i don’t pay attention to you? okay, have fun getting the attention from them. buenas noches” he said as he walked out and went into the guest bedroom (goodnight)

“good, i will” you yelled as he walked away

and now here you were, lying awake in bed, trying to stop the tears from flowing. he had a right to be jealous, but he didn't have a right to act like you were enjoying it. he was always like this and you were sick of it, you're sick of him not trusting you. it hurts you when you feel like he doubts you.

you were so caught up with your thoughts you didn't realize the door was open now, you felt the bed sink, and stayed quiet.

"mi amor? are you still awake?" he said, "lo siento, Sé que no harías algo así. i was just stressed and barely seeing you was making it worse, especially if i see you with them more than i see you with me." (im sorry, i know you wouldn't do anything like that)

"i don't like it when they touch me, i only like it when you do it" you spoke up

"why didn't you tell me, cariño?" (sweetheart)

"you like your friends, i didn't want to ruin anything between you"

"you're better than all of them, querida" he smiled and hugged you tight, you turned and faced him, and he was quick to pull you close

"te amo, mi vida" he said as he leaned his forehead on yours (i love you, my life)

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jqhotchner · 3 months

Text

quest

eleven

aaron had been gone for three days. he kept in contact with you through the case. with finally solving the case he was headed home to his family.

aaron sighs as he lays his head back on his seat. david noticed he was less stress. he was happy to see his friend was finally doing better.

david was glad you were home. aaron had been more stress and smiled less and less as the days went on.

seeing this more relaxed and comfortable aaron felt familiar.

“how’s yn and the kids?”

aaron looks at his friend. “they’re fine.”

dave gave him a look.

“they’re great. it’s just—”

“what is it? last we talked about it you said you two were great. going to counseling and everything. what’s wrong?”

“yeah, they are great. fantastic even! but she doesn’t know.”

“know what?”

aaron sighs. “she hasn’t seen the scars, dave. she doesn’t know the full story of foyet.”

dave hums understandably. he knew how insecure hotch was about the scars foyet left on him. all the stab wounds he’d have to see everyday for the rest of his life. aaron couldn’t bare looking at them himself. he feels weak whenever he sees himself.

“im guessing you two haven’t—”

aaron shakes his head. “no.”

“what’s stopping you from showing her?”

“fear,”

dave gives him a questionable look.

“fear of her seeing them and—i don’t know. not looking at me the same.”

“aaron, yn isn’t that kind of woman. she loves hard and loves you, and everyone around her, for who the are. she won’t see you any differently.”

deep down aaron knew this. but he couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts running through his head. he had to tell you, that he knew. it was the how he was confused over.

“you know what i say about scars.”

aaron smiles. “scars remind us where we’ve been,”

“they don’t have to dictate where we’re going.”

the two of them nod at one another before zoning off.

when aaron walked into his house he knew everyone would be sleep. he had hoped you’d be awake but wouldn’t be surprised if you’d fallen asleep yourself.

to his lucky stars you were awake. you smiles at your husband as he walks over and kisses your forehead.

“how’s my girl?”

“just missing your lovely husband.”

aaron chuckles quietly.

“you mind if i get ready for bed before you smother me in cuddles?” he half jokes. you giggle before nodding.

“go ahead.”

aaron took a quick shower. he made sure the door was locked. not ready for you to see all the stab wounds. once he was out he stared at his chest in the mirror.

he runs his hands over the permanent scars. he grabs his shirt. putting it on along with his boxers he leaves your shared bathroom.

aaron smiles once more. he climbs into bed and holds you close.

“missed you.” you whisper into his chest. aaron clears his throat.

“there’s something i didn’t tell you.”

you look into his eyes. noticing his nervousness you frown.

“what’s going on?” you sit up.

“before george foyet killed haley, before they went into witness protection, he found me. he was in my apartment. our apartment.”

you listen intensely.

“he was waiting to hurt me. i knew what he craved. fear. i wouldn’t give it to him. i refused. i think—i believe that’s what set him off more. i knew he wasn’t there to kill me. he had a bigger plan for that. but he needed me to hurt. to feel helpless,”

“aaron? what did he do?”

“remember how i told you he stabbed himself repeatedly?”

“god, aaron, he didn’t?”

aaron nods. “over and over and over. i barely made it. he called the police and they got me to the emergency room as soon as possible. they patched me up and everything. im—i was scared to tell you. scared for you to see. i didn’t want you to look at me—”

“no! aaron this isn’t your fault. it wasn’t your fault. he—he’s the one that hurt you. you’re so strong baby. so very strong.” you couldn’t help but cry.

he hold you, shedding a few tears himself. thankful he has such an amazing woman like you.

when you look him in the eyes you smiled at him like he was the only man on this planet. aaron smiles right back at you.

he leans forward before connecting your lips. the first kiss you two had in two years. it felt amazing. it was exciting.

aaron was still the best person you have ever kissed. he kissed you like you were the only girl in the world. and to him, you are.

when he pulls away he smiles once more. “i love you yn. im—im not there yet. i want to, trust me i do. but i just think we need a little more time until we get there.”

you nod understandably. it had been two whole years. you knew you’d wait a life time for aaron. and aaron would wait a lifetime for you.

“i understand. there is no rush. we have forever.”

aaron hums in agreement.

“goodnight, darling.”

“goodnight, aaron.”

if you wanna be added or unadded to any of my stories taglist please let me know

taglist:

@slut4ethan @zaddyhotch @rosiehale23 @whotfskai @shergoretzxx @vodkori @14buddy22 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @madesavage05

#aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotchner x reader #criminal minds

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alsktudy · 7 months

Text

— kimchi fried rice

» husband!soonyoung x wife!reader

» fluff ☁️, nonidol!au, office worker soonyoung, soonyoung hates his job, reader and soonyoung are trying for a baby!! HUSBANDHOSHI. HUSBANDHOSH. HOSHI AS UR HUSBAND

» warnings: talk about having children and financial issues

» w.c: 0.6k

» a/n: hoshi, can i I CAN be your wife. also my econs brain kinda switched on for this and omg husband hoshi husband hoshi HUSBAND. HOSHI. also im so glad alot of you enjoyed strawberries and whines, i was really nervous posting it :) interactions are appreciated 🤍

i love my job is what soonyoung would say if he was lying.

why he chose marketing as a career path... well, he doesn’t know himself. all he knows is that there’s two more minutes until he can go home, shower, eat, lie down and most importantly, see you, his wonderful wife.

usually, he’s not at the office this late, but his boss asked him if he could take a few extra hours for the team for a little pay rise for about a month.

at first he said no, i mean, why would he accept? he hated his job enough, extra hours added to the already long day of sitting behind a desk was torture, but then you reminded him about your future children.

before he was approached about the extra hours, you and soonyoung decided talk about children and stumbled upon the issue about finance.

its not like you were struggling to meet the rent or struggling to buy the groceries - you two pulled through quite well considering the current rate of inflation. but you both agreed that the money that you both currently had wasn’t enough to raise another human being. plus, soonyoung mentioned how he wanted to spoil his kids with cute little onesies (tiger ones) and baby shoes, but, he couldn’t spoil your kids responsibly if there was barely any money to spend.

so he reluctantly agreed and decided to work for 3 extra hours, for you and your future little ones.

—

another reason why he hated his job is that it was so far away from home. on his normal hours, when he got back from work you’d be awake doing whatever random things you decided to do. but ever since he took those extra hours, he often goes back home to a dimly lit apartment, seeing you asleep on the bed, gripping your phone while it plays a youtube video.

he doesn’t wake you up, and he never does. all he does is carefully slip your phone out of your hands, places it on your bedside table, has the quickest shower of his life, heats up whatever leftovers are in the fridge and quietly eats alone.

that's why he didn’t expect so see you running towards the door with your arms wide open when he tried enter as slowly and quietly as he could.

you yell his name excitedly and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your head onto his chest. his eyes widen as he is still yet to process that his wife is hugging him, when she’s usually asleep. i mean, not that he’s complaining.

he is quick to engulf his wife who he missed into his arms and tightens his grip around you until he smells something familiar. you look up to see his rather confused face turn into a wide-eyed smile.

“is that… kimchi?” he says smiling looking down at you, as if he couldn’t smile more.

you nod your head quickly and correct him by adding the, “fried rice.” then you’re suddenly picked up off the ground and spun around by your sweaty and sticky husband.

he places you down before you begin to comment on his stench. “please shower before we eat though, you smell absolutely horrendous. you literally sit at a desk for hours… how can you even get this smelly?”

he shrugs in reply as he sneaks in a quick taste of the fresh kimchi fried rice that you made. as he scoops the rice into his mouth, he hears you yell at him, “soonyoung, shower now!”

‘she’ll be a great mother’ he smiles cheekily at the thought as you chase him around the kitchen island, spoon hanging out of his mouth.

#soonyoung fluff #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #seventeen #svt #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung #kwon hoshi #svt hoshi #kpop #svt soonyoung #mina's daily dosage of hoshi ୨୧ #mina's fics ୨୧

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