#(( HE'S BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS FOR MONTHS... HIM HAPPY BIRD ... ))

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Joker Junior Tim but Tim's afraid of Harley and JJ loves Harley because that's his mom.

When Harley first found out that Tim was JJ and that the bats were the Waynes, she was torn. She wanted so bad to spend time with her son and to apologize, but she couldn't. She felt horrible for what she did.

Reason being is the first time she confronted Red Robin, or Robin at the time, while on patrol. She had found him on a roof and he had been so terrified of her he was shivering. Her heart hurt for Tim, who was scared of her.

She left him alone after that, always choosing to avoid the bird's line of sight and hearing range so he wouldn't be scared. It wasn't until one of the other bats talked to her, Oracle, that she decided to try to get close to Robin.

At first she started by sitting at the farthest end of the building where Tim was perched. She watched him for a few minutes before looking away. This happened several times.

At the point he stopped shivering and looking as tense as he used to be, she moved closer. Day by day, week by week, month by month, she got close to him till she was sitting next to him.

They had started up a friendship then. She would do most the talking, making motherly gestures here and there, till one day, he fell asleep on her. She had taken him to her house that winter night and tucked him into bed, kissing him goodnight and setting out breakfast, hot chocolate, and fresh clothes along with a bag the next morning.

He was scared, of course, this was a villain's anti-hero's house, you couldn't drop your guard too much.

He knew he shouldn't have trusted her.

"Goodmorning, kiddo. I made you some pancakes and hot chocolate. There's some clothes on the bedside and a bag for your costume, Timmy, that way you don't have to go home in that."

He stood frozen as he stared at the large stack of pancakes laid out. He slowly moved forward, taking the fork next to the plate and took a piece off of it.

He hesitated when biting it, but when he did, nothing was wrong with it. It tasted amazing.

He had almost choked several times when he scarfed down the pancakes, the best pancakes he's ever tasted if he does say so himself(sorry Alfred), and thanked her.

He changed and put his stuff in the bag before getting ready to leave, but he stopped himself.

He looked at her, and she looked confusedly at him.

"About the Joker.."

He didn't need to finish his sentence, she already knew.

She sat down and motioned him to sit in the seat next to her, so he did.

She didn't look him in the eye when she spoke. She talked for a while, told him about her relationship with the Joker, about how sorry she was about what she helped do to him, everything.

After that talk, their relationship changed. They became closer, the bats noticed.

Alfred, Bruce, and Barbara seemed indifferent to the change in their relationship, because they knew what happened. They were happy about it, even, about how well their relationship has grown.

At one point, though, things changed again. Red Robin was taken and electrocuted, triggering JJ to cone out. The bats were stuck, unable to do anything without JJ doing something in return, Red Hood was frozen in place despite himself.

It wasn't until Harley entered the scene that JJ ran to her, hugging her, calling her mama that he calmed down enough and started crying.

"Oh Junior, it's okay baby. Mommy's here."

Harley kept saying those comforts until Ivy arrived and swept them away.

"Hey!" Nightwing called out, prepared to go after them. Batman, however, stopped him, stepping up to Ivy.

"Have you got him?" he asked her. "Yes, we'll take care of him until he's better. Tomorrow's your only time I'm allowing you in my place to give him things. Your next visit is when he asks." She warned him. He nodded in return, unphased by her threat.

"B, why did you let them take him."

"There are things you don't know, about the time when Red Robin started out as Robin." Was the simple answer Batman gave them before he left, clearing out the area.

[impish-baby]

More dad survivor x zombie reader + an old friend :) (tw: dead animal, guns, emetophobia, threats of harm)

"Aw, sugar.." The dead bird is the farthest thing from appetizing but you look so darn happy offering it to him, how's he supposed to say no?

"You're the sweetest, daddy will eat it later, ok?" That at least seems to be satisfactory enough for now, as you drop the poor thing down onto the park table.

The playground has long been abandoned, left in disarray since the apocalypse hit, that doesnt stop Hank from finding it absolutely adorable when you try to climb up a slide. Nearly gives him a heart attack though.

"Baby, come on, you're gonna hurt yourself." He wonders if you remember being little and playing here, your memory isn't the best when it comes to some things but you sure seem to recall what it takes to give him gray hairs. "I know you think it's fun, but your old man really couldn't handle it if you got scratched up while you're messing around."

You get hurt so easily now a days, he's basically toddler proofed the house all over again and yet you still find a way to bang yourself up when he's not around, that's why he's taken to tying you up when he can't keep an eye on you.

When you do finally decide to slide back down, Hank immediately sweeps you up into his arms with a soft chuckle. "Alright, alright, I think you've had enough outside time for today, we should be headin' home."

It would've been a good day, a great one even, if he didn't catch the glittering of a silver barrel from the corner of his eye.

"Shit-" Hank has never been more greatful that he was holding you, because you lunge automatically for the stranger and likewise closer to the gun. "No, sweetheart, shhh..shh..calm down.." God, he'd love it if you listened, it's hard to pull out his own pistol while trying to wrangle you into staying put.

Other survivors aren't very common in town, most people left after the first few months.

"You gonna let that thing go so I can shoot it?" He recognizes that voice, and it makes Hank's heart sink into a pit in his stomach. "I ain't.. Hank?" A familiar face is rare, a friendly familiar face is nearly unheard of.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot, just step back for a minute, alright?" When Hank glances over, he wasn't expecting Bo to be emptying his stomach onto the cement.

"I- Fuck-" The man retches again, dryheaving. "You.. God, the kid.." An honorary uncle, Bo knew you since the day you where born, he didn't see the day that was meant to be your last.

"I know," You stopped struggling once you heard his voice, eyes wide as you simply whine to be let down. "You're gonna have to wait, be patient, hun." That never was your strong suit. "The grown ups need to talk."

"Hank.. man, you gotta let them go.." There's tears in Bo's eyes as he takes a cautious step forward. "They're dead. There aren't any ifs or buts, that's a corpse. You can't-"

"That is my child," He's been a sinner for a long time, if it comes down to it, shooting his brother will be one of his worst. "My baby, what kind of father am I to hurt them?"

"A merciful one!" There are days you wake up confused and scared, you cry for hours or at least your body tries to. "They aren't a person anymore, Hank, they aren't themselves. You're fucking lucky they haven't bitten you yet!"

"I'd welcome it if they did." He's thought about it, that first night when you went cold in his arms and many more after that. "You pull that trigger and that's it, a life without my kid isn't worth living."

"Dammit," Hank almost collapses in relief as the gun is holstered, putting his away as well. "You're still an idiot, huh? Figures.."

Bo approaches slowly, never taking his eyes off your still form. All you do is smile and try to reach out for a hug, but he cringes away with a look of disgust.

Hank's heart breaks as you tuck your teary face against his neck. He doesn't know how to explain in a way you'd still understand, all he can is press a kiss to your forehead and shush your sniffles.

[tacobacoyeet]

George and y/nn broke up after the war because they both wanted to concentrate on their careers. The two see each other again years later at Ginny's and Harry's wedding because y/n and Ginny were very good friends even though she was in Fred and George's year. She was always like a big sister to ginny. George and y/n have never stopped loving each other and getting closer to each other again at the wedding. Then they disappear into the burrow and have hot sex. George is Dom as always. When the two come back Fred and Ginny already look suspiciously at them, because both of them always had to hear from the two how much they miss each other.

as fate promised | george weasley x reader

a/n: happy birthday to the most impactful and long-lasting book crush i've ever had. george weasley will always be the character i could never live without. thank you for all 5 requests i have in my inbox for him, but specifically this one. i took some creative liberties, but i hope i've at least given you a hint of what you were hoping for.

warnings: SMUT 18+, alcohol mention, war mention, pregnancy mention, au in which fred is alive (it's his birthday and i'm not cruel) and harry and ginny have a happy wedding, this isn't exactly accurate but... it's fun, i actually wrote a happy ending for once! yay, hastily proofread

The sunlight in Ginny’s bedroom streamed in slow, golden ribbons, casting a soft spell over everything it touched—the lace veil folded carefully on the dresser, the half-drunk flute of champagne on the windowsill, and the back of your neck, where a loose strand of hair clung to the curve of your skin. You laughed, breathless and fond, as Ginny spun in front of the mirror, the satin of her gown whispering against the wooden floor.

"You look like a painting," you murmured, reaching forward to adjust the fall of Ginny’s hairpins, fingers trembling ever so slightly. "Something out of a dream."

Ginny rolled her eyes with affection. "Don't go getting sentimental on me now. I need you composed, remember? One of us has to be."

But you weren’t listening anymore. Not really. Because the second you lifted your gaze out the crooked-pane window, your heart snagged on the sight of him.

George.

He was standing in the garden in a navy-blue jacket that clung to his shoulders like memory. His hair—still a riot of that unmistakable Weasley red—glowed brighter than the sun itself. He was laughing at something Charlie had said, tossing his head back. He laughed the way he always had, but it sat different now. Like something had broken beneath it. Something quieter rested behind his eyes.

Time.

It sat on both of you.

And just like that, the years folded in on themselves. Hogwarts corridors. Sneaked kisses behind greenhouses. Midnight swims in the Black Lake. Fred yelling, "Oi, get a room, you two!" as you and George tumbled into the Gryffindor common room hand-in-hand. Ginny’s endless teasing, how she would groan every time George sent an enchanted origami bird fluttering into your textbooks.

You remembered the day they fled Hogwarts. He had told you beforehand, of course. It was a painful night. Tears streaming, whispered "I love you"s, promises about the future you two had planned. You watched, soon after, the way the fireworks bloomed across the Great Hall ceiling, the way your chest cracked open watching him disappear through the clouds of rebellion. You had known. Even then. That something had ended.

You stayed. Finished what you started. Buried your heart in textbooks and late-night patrols, every breath a battle not to sneak out of Hogwarts and into the joke shop to throw your arms around him.

You kept your chin up. You trained. You earned your Auror badge like it meant something. Like it could stitch up the gaping space he left behind.

The letters faded. The visits stopped. And in their place—emptiness. Weeks turned to months turned to years, and you both just… let it happen.

It hadn’t been an ugly ending, just an agonizing one. A slow unraveling. A missed goodbye. No fights. Just silence where laughter used to live. Tear-streaked cheeks and clutched hands and whispered promises you were both too proud—and too young—to keep.

You’d never stopped loving him. That was the worst part. The love had never left. It had only settled somewhere quieter. Heavier. Waiting.

You blinked, and he was still there.

He hadn’t seen you yet.

But he would.

And when he did, the whole bloody world would stop. It may as well have, already.

You didn’t know if it was hope or fear blooming in your chest—only that it was alive again.

-----

The wedding was soft and golden, like everything that had come before it.

The garden behind the Burrow had been transformed—lanterns floating overhead like tiny stars, wildflowers blooming in mason jars along each aisle, chairs arranged in a perfect, charmingly crooked arc. It smelled like rosemary and lemon tart, like old wood and fresh beginnings. Someone had enchanted the breeze to stay warm and gentle. You could almost pretend it was magic itself.

You stood with the other bridesmaids, bouquet tight in your hands, your dress the same shade of blush Ginny had insisted on months ago with a wicked grin—“George will faint when he sees you in this.”

You hadn’t thought she meant it literally. But now, you weren’t so sure.

Because he was there.

Groomsman. Just across the aisle. Tense, freckled hands clasped in front of him, boutonnière slightly crooked, smile tight at the corners like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. And then—

His eyes found yours.

Everything else faded.

He stared at you like it hurt. Like it healed. Like you were everything he'd buried and didn’t dare dig up again until this moment. He looked at you like you were the only real thing in a world built from dreams. Like he'd spent every day since the war pretending not to search for you in every crowded street, every silent room.

And there was something else too—grief tucked behind the edges of his smile. As if the war hadn’t just taken his ear and a piece of Hogwarts, but pieces of all of you. The laughter was still there, but it sat deeper in his chest now. Older. Earned.

And you? You stared right back.

Because how could you not?

That was your George. Still him. Still yours. Except not. Not really.

Fred elbowed him sharply, grinning like a devil, and George blinked—smiling back with something startled and sheepish and boyish in a way that gutted you.

You looked away before you could drown in it.

But you would’ve given anything to drown in it.

You had imagined weddings before. Countless nights holed up in the Gryffindor Dormitory with Ginny, Hermione, and all of the other girls you grew up with. Some nights it was their dream wedding. Other nights it was yours. A beautiful venue, a devilishly handsome court-jester of a ginger across from you at the altar. A sting in your eyes, a warmth in your chest, the vows you had planned out hidden deep in your diary.

It wasn’t just a conversation with your friends. It was late nights and early mornings, the Gryffindor common room fire crackling beneath whispers between you and your lover. Your head would rest on his chest, the two of you staring off as you planned every little detail of your life together. The color scheme of your wedding, the names of your future children, who would be on dinner-duty each night. You were convinced it was fated. Prophesied. Y/N Y/L/N and George Weasley were written in the stars.

Today, though, this ceremony blurred around the edges, dipped in candlelight and vows and Molly’s occasional sniffles. You caught flashes—Harry trying not to cry, Ginny radiant like sunlight incarnate, Arthur clutching a handkerchief in both fists. There were enchanted doves, there was a harpist whose strings shivered like glass, there was magic in the air and it wasn’t all from the spells.

But mostly, there was him.

Watching you.

And you, pretending you didn’t keep looking back.

Your pulse raced, hot beneath your collarbone. Your knees trembled inside your heels.

Because you knew it, deep in your bones. The moment the last toast was made, the first chance he got—he was going to come to you.

And when he did, you wouldn’t run.

You weren’t seventeen anymore.

You were still his. Even if you hadn’t said it out loud in years.

---

The sun had dipped behind the trees by the time the reception hit its stride. Candles floated over tables dressed in mismatched linen. Music played low and rich beneath the hum of voices and laughter. Plates clinked. Wine glasses glittered in the fairy light. You danced with Neville, with Luna, with Bill, all with a smile stretched too tight across your face.

Because you could feel him watching.

Every time you turned, George was somewhere near—laughing with Charlie, talking with Lee Jordan, charming someone’s grandmother,  standing in his brother’s personal bubble as he whispered something that made Fred choke on his drink from laughter.

But he hadn’t come to you.

Not yet.

Your skin buzzed like a live wire. Every inch of you attuned to the way he moved, the weight of his gaze when he thought you wouldn’t notice. You were burning with it. Trembling with it.

And then you were gone.

You slipped away from the crowd, quiet as a spell. Past the string lights, past the garden’s edge, past the kitchen window glowing warm with laughter. You found your way to the porch—the one that creaked beneath your heels and smelled like pine and old summers.

You kicked off your shoes. Wrapped your arms around yourself. Breathed.

The door behind you creaked open, then closed.

You didn’t need to turn.

"You always did disappear at parties," he said softly.

You smiled to yourself. "You always did find me."

His footsteps creaked across the boards.

Then he was beside you.

Close enough to touch, but not touching. Close enough that you could feel the warmth of him through the air. You stared ahead, out at the setting sun. Fireflies began to buzz over the garden, and someone—Hermione, probably—had enchanted the pond to shimmer gold.

"Hi," he said.

You looked at him. Slowly. Let your eyes take him in, like your memory had starved for him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He breathed out a laugh. "Didn’t know if you’d actually come."

"I wouldn’t have missed it for the world."

He tilted his head. "Fred was bouncing off the walls. Told me if I didn’t clean up and act right, I’d regret it when you walked through the door."

You smiled. "He’s usually right."

George went quiet. His gaze dropped to the floorboards, then rose again to meet yours.

"You look beautiful," he said, voice low. "I mean—you always do. But tonight…"

Your chest ached. "Don’t."

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t say things like that unless you mean them."

He stepped forward. Close. Close enough that your arms brushed.

"I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said to you," he murmured.

You couldn’t breathe.

He was looking at you like he did in the greenhouses. In the library when you snuck him in after curfew. On the Astronomy Tower with your tie in his hand and the stars in your eyes.

Like he was falling through every single galaxy to end up in your arms once again.

"I missed you," he said.

You didn’t speak. Just stood there, blinking hard, willing the tears to stay where they were.

George shifted closer, voice unsteady. "I didn’t know how to let go of you. I thought I could pour everything into the shop, into laughing until it didn’t hurt anymore—but you never really left."

Your breath caught. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I kept moving forward, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. But it did. It does."

His eyes searched yours, but he didn’t flinch. "Then let’s stop pretending."

You opened your mouth to respond—but he kissed you instead.

It was not polite. Not soft.

It was filth and fire, all teeth and tongue, years of frustration and longing colliding behind lips that had forgotten how to be gentle. Your back hit the porch rail with a thud as he gripped your hips and ground against you like he could make up for everything in one breathless second.

You moaned into his mouth, clawed at his jacket, dragging him impossibly closer. His hands were under your dress, fists bunching the fabric as he palmed your ass with a growl.

"Come with me," he rasped, biting your lower lip just hard enough to make you gasp. "Now."

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

He took your hand and hauled you upstairs like a man starved, the tittering portraits lining the walls hardly audible as your hearts pounded in your ears, barely making it through his bedroom door before he shoved it closed with his foot and pinned you against it. His mouth was on your neck, hot and open and frantic.

"Missed this," he groaned. "Missed you."

You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, yanked his shirt open, buttons pinging off the walls. He didn’t even flinch. Just lifted you, carried you across the room, and dropped you onto the bed like he owned you.

And maybe he did.

You pulled him down with you, mouth on his, legs wrapped tight around his hips. He kissed you like he was trying to brand himself into your bones.

Your dress hit the floor. His trousers followed.

He didn’t wait.

He dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and dragged your panties off with his teeth, eyes locked on yours. Then he was on you, tongue lapping between your legs, filthy and unrelenting.

You cried out, hips bucking against his face, and he groaned like he was addicted to it. He licked you through it, through your shaking thighs and gasping sobs, until you were trembling and pleading and yanking at his hair.

He rose over you, lips slick, pupils blown wide.

"You taste just as incredible as you used to," he said hoarsely, stroking himself as he crawled back over you. "I’m gonna ruin you."

You grabbed his face, pulled him close, lips clashing. "Please."

And he did.

He slammed into you in one deep, devastating thrust that made your eyes roll back.

You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders. He set a brutal pace, fucking you into his mattress like a man possessed, like every second without you had been agony.

"You’ve always been mine," he growled, hips snapping hard against yours. "Tell me you never stopped."

"Yours," you gasped. "Yours, George, fuck—don’t stop—"

He flipped you onto your stomach, dragged your hips up, and drove into you again from behind, one hand tangled in your hair, the other splayed over your lower back to hold you still.

The sounds—your moans, the slap of skin, the creak of the bed—filled the room, obscene and perfect.

You were gone. Wrecked. Nothing but sensation and him.

He reached around, fingers circling your clit, and you shattered with a scream, clenching around him so tight he cursed loudly, bucked once more, and spilled into you with a groan that sounded like your name and a prayer.

You collapsed into the sheets, limp and breathless. He followed, covering your body with his, panting into your neck.

"Still with me?" he asked, voice wrecked.

You turned your head, kissed the corner of his mouth. "Always."

He chuckled darkly, still catching his breath. "Hope you're not done. I’m not finished with you."

You grinned at him, panting, glowing. “We’ve got a few years to catch up on, you know. Our plans from 6th year said that I was supposed to have a ring and a pregnancy by now,” you tease.

And from the way he was already hardening again against your thigh—you knew he’d make up for lost time. 

He didn’t give you a moment to rest, not until the moon was casting over the backyard, encasing the party still roaring outside in a cool, whispered glow. 

-----

Later, when you finally emerged, flushed and radiant with something more than just exertion, Fred’s eyes caught yours. Ginny’s followed. They didn’t say a word—just exchanged a look, one that spoke of too many shared conversations and the soft satisfaction of being right.

You didn’t let go of George’s hand.

He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice low enough only for you.

“It’ll be ours next.”

You turned to him. "What?"

He didn’t hesitate.

“The wedding. It’ll be us getting married next.”

And this time, you didn’t flinch.

You smiled.

You believed him.

-----

tagging: @jamespotteraliveversion @hanneh69 @glennussy

[hotchscoffeecup]

“Power Struggle”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: M

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: For months, you and SSA Aaron Hotchner have been toeing the boundary between romance and your careers. When the unsub that's been killing women in Michigan by way of replicating Zeus' punishments from Greek mythology takes you as his next victim, it's up to Hotch and the rest of the BAU team to find you before it's too late. Hurt/comfort and angst with happy ending.

Tags: graphic depictions of violence, reader kidnapped by unsub, blood, implied SA, nudity, electrocution, scarring, hospitals

“You’re telling me someone is out here killing people to recreate, what? Greek legends?” Sheriff McCullen’s brow pinches as he shakes his head.

“Legends are stories often loosely based on a real person or event to teach us a lesson. Mythology is based on supernatural or sacred lore and explains why things came to be. It’s a common mistake.” Reid speaks quickly and methodically, as if reciting from a textbook. “It’s straight out of the mythos,” he explains, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement as he approaches the whiteboard where photos of the victims had been pinned up for review. Using a ballpoint pen as a pointer, he taps the first image of the first victim. “Regina Manford, she was found tied to a boulder in Craig Lake State Park with her liver removed. Animal predation showed birds had pecked at her while she was still alive. In Greek mythology, Zeus did this to Prometheus to exact revenge on him after he stole fire to give to man.”

Reid moves on to the next victim, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. “Sarah Walters was found bound to an old water wheel that had been set on fire. Greek Mythology suggests this is a copy of Zeus’ punishment for Ixion.”

“And what did he do to deserve that?” asks the sheriff.

Reid’s lips form a tight line. “He was invited into Zeus’ home on Olympus. After attempting to seduce his wife, Hera, Zeus punished him by binding him to a wheel of fire cursed to spin forever toward the underworld. She might’ve smiled or even looked at him, and in his delusion believed she was a seductress deserving of punishment.”

“So, what? This guy sees himself as some sort of god?”

“We believe that is his delusion, yes,” answers Emily. “Each victim also bore signs of sexual trauma, this is something Zeus is also renowned for in the mythology. Our unsub thinks he’s infallible and that these women’s lives and deciding when and how these women live and die is his divine right.”

“Do we know if there will be more victims?” asks one of the detectives.

You step forward from your place between Morgan and Hotchner. “Given the number of victims Zeus punished within the mythology, we can assume he is not finished. These kills are two weeks apart. It’s been twelve days since the last body was found. We can only assume he’s currently hunting for his next victim. And when he finds one, he convinces her to go to a second location. It's once they leave the primary location that he attacks. In each case, the victim suffered a blow to the head, leaving a uniquely shaped gash in her forehead. This suggests that he strikes them with a distinct blunt object or even a ring that’s on his hand.”

“We need every man out on the streets,” Hotch states, his eyes hard as he scans the group of law enforcement gathered to receive the profile. “He stalks his victims in the city, often on the weekends when night life is busiest. He’s charming. He has no problem approaching women because he views himself as a deity and carries himself with the arrogance and confidence of one. He’s white, in his early to mid 30s, good looking, charming, and likely has a career that would’ve provided him with medical training.”

A female detective with short blonde hair sticks her pencil in the air. “How do we know that?”

“The incisions made on Regina’s body were clean, precise, and showed no signs of hesitation,” explains Rossi. “The M.E. also informed us that the hepatic artery was clamped off, meaning,” Rossi hesitates before continuing on, “meaning Regina Mansford was alive as her liver was being cut from her body.”

An uncomfortable murmuring breaks out. Hotch raises a hand, silencing them. Your mouth goes dry and you swallow, hoping your team doesn’t notice the way your eyes dilate when you look at him and the silent way in which he can command a room.

“This is why we need every available officer on the streets. Increase units in the downtown area. Have plain clothes officers on the streets. That’s where we’ll be. Thank you.” Hotch tucks his head and sweeps out of the bullpen, the rest of the team trailing after him into the conference room.

“Where do you want us?” asks Morgan as you shut the door to the conference room.

“Reid, I want you here working the geographical profile. See if there’s anything we missed that could bring us closer to a precise location where he’s kidnapping his victims. Rossi and JJ, I want you to go back to Sarah’s apartment and see if we missed anything that tells us where she was exactly on the night she was kidnapped. Derek and Emily take the north side of downtown.” He inclines his head toward you. “You and I will take the south side.”

His eyes linger on yours a moment longer than they ought to have. You dip your head and swiftly exit the room, jacket in hand as you prepare to brave not only the frigid Michigan cold but working one one-on-one with Hotch. This had been going on for months; subtle looks, brief touches where his fingers would slide over yours while passing off a case file…yet a part of you still wasn’t sure if it would ever go any further than that. You spend so much of your time with the team, it would be so easy to mistake one gesture for something that it wasn’t. Yet you knew that wasn’t true. You know behavior. You’re trained to recognize the subtlest of shifts in demeanor and body language and you know exactly what is going on.

You jump as someone pushes through the front door of the precinct. Emily’s gentle laugh disrupts your rumination. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She moves to stand closer to you as she zips her jacket. “The guys went to grab the cars.”

You nod and shove your hands in your pockets.

Emily arches a perfectly manicured brow. “What’s up?”

You school your expression and feign nonchalance. “Nothing, I just want to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else.”

Emily’s brow furrows and then straightens, a glimmer of knowing in her eye. “Something tells me there’s a different guy on your mind.”

Your heart skips a beat and you nearly choke on the crisp winter air. “What? I don’t—“ Your words falter as Derek and Hotch arrive, the SUVs humming to a gentle stop at the curb.

Emily eyes you, a sly smile curving one side of her red lips. “We’ll talk later.” She winks and steps forward to open the passenger side door, sliding inside and disappearing into the dark interior.

As you turn to move toward the SUV, Hotch is there, opening the door for you. The gesture surprises you, but it shouldn’t. He’d been doing little things like this for weeks now. You nod your head in thanks and as you turn your body to slide past him, his hand catches your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers glide against the small of your back, guiding your movement into the vehicle.

His hard eyes meet yours as he shuts the door and you’re grateful for the shadows inside the car as you feel your face flush bright red. Hotch slides into the driver’s seat with ease. He shifts the car into gear and pulls onto the road, heading in the direction of downtown.

After a few minutes, you open your mouth to disrupt the silence, but his cell rings. Hotch answers and places it on speaker as JJ’s voice floats through the receiver, “Hotch, we think we’ve got something at Sarah Walters apartment.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

“There’s a sticky note in her trash can,” a garbled sound echoes through the speaker as she shifts the phone. The sound of paper crinkles as she reads, “Tony’s at 9, does that mean anything? Has Garcia come across a Tony in any of her research into the victims’ lives? Maybe an Anthony?”

An image of a neon sign flashes across your mind’s eye. “It’s a bar,” you say matter-of-factly.

“A bar?”

“I remember seeing the sign on our drive-in. It’s a bar on the south side of downtown. That could be where he’s meeting these women.”

“We’re only a few blocks away, we’ll head there now. Thank you, JJ.” He hangs up and slips the phone into his jacket pocket.

“How do you want to play this?” you ask.

“We go in, make observations, see if we can identify anyone that matches the profile.”

You smirk and a small laugh escapes your lips.

“Something funny?” Hotch asks, his voice low in his throat.

You purse your lips, pausing before you proceed. “If we go in looking like feds, we’ll scare this guy away.” You tilt your head, considering. “Well, one of us anyway.”

A slight twitch in his brow is the only indication your words have just barely gotten under his skin. “Touched a nerve, sir?”

As the traffic light ahead blinks red, he eases the car to a stop. He breathes out slowly, the amber glow of the stoplight reflecting in his eyes. In less than two heartbeats, he thrusts the car into park and with both hands clasps your face, drawing you in to kiss you with such fervor white spots dot your vision. It takes a moment to process the heat of his mouth on yours and the way his tongue slides between your lips, and before you can truly reciprocate the light turns green and he pulls back, his breathing ragged against your mouth as his forehead touches yours. “Be careful when and how you choose to call me sir.”

Before you can exhale, his eyes are on the road again and you’re driving deeper into downtown.

“Understood,” and then you add, almost imperceptibly, “sir.”

A small smile quirks at the corner of his lips, but he says nothing more as you approach your destination.

It's nearing 9:30pm when you pull up on the street parallel to Tony’s. People trickle in and out of the bar in groups of twos and threes; most are young, in their mid to late twenties.

“Right,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to exit the vehicle. “Stay here.”

“Excuse me?” Hotch asks, reaching over your lap and grabbing your wrist to stay your hand from popping the door open. Your breathing stills and he just barely turns his face toward yours. “Since when do you give me orders?”

Unsure where the confidence to challenge him comes from, you lean in near his ear. You swallow once before speaking. “I think you like taking them.” Feeling incredibly brazen, you nip at his ear once and as the unexpected gesture disarms him; flick your wrist out of his grasp and pop the door open. You slide out of the car and are immediately greeted by the frigid January air eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. Extending an arm overhead to hang on to the frame of the SUV; you lean down into the cab of the vehicle. “I’ve got you right here,” you say as you tap the hidden earpiece. “Let me know if you see anyone from the outside that fits the profile.”

Hotch eyes you and there’s a fierceness in his gaze. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he’ll ultimately retaliate for your little role reversal now that he’s gone and upped the ante in this little game of cat and mouse. “See you soon,” you wink and slam the door shut.

As you approach the bar, you make sure your coat is buttoned in a way that hides your sidearm and credentials from sight. The bouncer doesn’t even pretend to ask for an ID as you approach and move through the front door with ease. As you cross through the threshold, your senses are assaulted by the smell of beer on tap, the sharp tang of liquor, grease, and an amalgamation of perfumes and colognes.

Immediately you begin scanning the room. You note the layout of the bar: three exits for patrons, the one you just came in through, one near the bathrooms for cigarette smokers, and an emergency exit on the far right wall near to the kitchen. There are three pool tables all of which are occupied as well as three dart boards along the far wall. Groups of friends engage one another and dates carry on without a hitch. You approach the bar, which is centered along the far wall. Stools line the high countertop and behind the bar, two women work to fulfill the never-ending drink orders. You approach the bar and slide into one of the empty seats, relaxing your shoulders as you do so, and order a rum and coke that you don’t plan on drinking.

After a moment the bartender drops a cocktail napkin in front of you and places the drink on top. You thank her and stir the contents of the drink with the swizzle stick popped inside.

“Is this seat taken?” an unfamiliar voice causes the hair on the back of your neck to prickle and you know immediately that it’s him.

Painting on a saccharine sweet smile, you turn toward the voice. A white man, standing at about 6’2”, is smiling down at you. The neon lights behind the bar reflect in his blue-gray eyes and his honey blonde hair falls in soft waves to his shoulders. “Please,” you say demurely and gesture toward the seat. You tell him your name and continue smiling.

“Ronan Carlson,” he introduces himself as he slides in beside you and adjusts the lapels on his leather jacket, a fake Rolex peeking out from his sleeve. He’s preening, you think to yourself. The bartender approaches from behind the bar and he smiles, the curve of his lips the opening act of his charming performance. “I’ll have what she’s having, thank you.” He pulls a roll of cash from the inner pocket of his jacket, flips through several bills, and pulls a $100 bill free before sliding it across the counter to her.

The bartender’s eyes widen in surprise and he winks at her. She nods her thanks and turns to make his drink.

“That was very kind of you,” I say, stirring my drink for the thirteenth time.

He shrugs and tips the baseball cap he’s wearing down over his eyes and you know it’s to obstruct the view the cameras have of him. “It’s only money, and I think I may have made her night.” He inclines his head toward the bartender whose head is bent close to the other woman’s. She’s smiling wide and shows her the $100 bill.

Internally, you roll your eyes hard, but externally you smile and look at him from beneath your lashes. “You must have a great job, what do you do for work?”

His hand flexes as he sets his drink down on the counter and you note the two chunky platinum rings he wears on his right hand. There are symbols etched into them offset by different colored stones, but you don’t want him to catch you staring as he answers, “I’m in business for myself these days,” he says with no further explanation. “Though I used to be in the military.”

You feign surprise, though you were hopeful he’d continue to divulge information. “The military, wow. Let me guess,” you pause and allow your eyes to slowly scan him from head to toe. You remember the profile. “Army…medic.”

“Reign it in,” you hear Hotchner’s voice through the earpiece. “Be mindful of how much you reveal to him. Don’t let him know you know more about him than he’s letting on.”

You watch him assess you and your read into him. One blonde brow creeps up toward his hairline and that wicked smile curves his lips again. “Excellent guess, how do you figure?”

Leaning on to your forearms, you push your drink aside and slide your hand over his and you don’t miss the way his fingers tense at your touch.

“It’s the hands,” you say coyly. “You look like you know how to handle yourself.” He relaxes under your touch and a heat ignites in his eyes that makes your stomach churn, but you don’t let it show on your face. “You look like you know how to handle a lot of things.”

He licks his lips and turns the ring on his finger. “Tell you what,” he says as he picks up his drink. He places the glass to his lips and downs its contents. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He looks down at you from beneath dark lashes. “And I’ll show you just how much I can handle.”

You stand up and flash him a grin. “Let me quickly freshen up and I’ll meet you out front.”

His lips quirk into a smirk, “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

You smile as you slip away toward the bathroom. As you push through the crowd you inform Hotch that the unsub is on his way out.

“There’s a line growing out the door,” he answers over the earpiece. “Does the description match the profile?”

“To a T,” you answer as you push past a couple with their tongues in each other's mouths. The amount of patrons has increased dramatically over the last hour. The volume of the music makes it hard to hear through the earpiece. You push your way into the restroom and are surprised to find it empty. Fortunately, the outside noise is muffled. You begin to describe Ronan’s appearance and note the jacket and hat he’s wearing. “He’s wearing two oddly shaped rings,” you add. “I think it’s what’s caused the unusual injury to the victims’ faces.”

“I’ve got him. He’s cutting through the line toward the parking lot.” You hear the car door open and slam.

“Got it, I’ll be right there.”

“Good work,” Hotch says over the open line.

You smile to yourself as you unbutton your jacket, glad to be on the receiving end of his praise. For a split second you wonder what else you could be on the receiving end of if you continue to play this game with him. After the case, you remind yourself. Priorities. Priority number one is getting this sick bastard off the street, and he’s right here within your grasp. You shoulder the door as you reach for your gun, positioning your thumb over the rotating hood to dislodge your weapon from its holster.

Over the speakers, an employee is calling to celebrate someone’s birthday. The crowd is distracted and pushing toward the source of celebration. The bar erupts into an off key rendition of Happy Birthday but you don’t hear it as 30,000 volts of electricity course through your veins. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you fall forward. Pain radiates from your abdomen in waves that crash over you again and again. You try to tell your body what to do as strong arms catch you and pull you into a chest that smells like cigarette smoke, but your limbs don’t cooperate. You feel his nose root into your hair as his lips find your ear. “How’s that for capable?”

As he shoulders your weight and steers you out through the emergency exit you hear Hotch’s voice in your ear. “It’s not him!” There’s an edge of panic in his voice as he says your name. “Do you copy? It’s not him. He gave another man $500 to wear his hat and jacket into the parking lot. It’s not him. Do you have eyes on him?”

Dark spots the edges of your vision as he drags your dead body weight. You try to focus all of your ability on getting out any words that can signal to Hotchner what’s happening, any at all but your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.”

You hear the tinkling of keys and a door slide open. Pain rattles through your skull as he throws you into the back of whatever vehicle he’s operating. Pain slices through your wrists as zip ties slice through the skin there. Through tunnel vision you see him leering at you. He’s backlit by the streetlights.

As his fist flies toward you, you finally manage one word.

“Aaron.”

•

When you come to, the first thing you feel before the splitting pain in your head threatens to cleave your mind in two, is cold.

Your mouth is dry, but as you move to lick your lips you realize you can’t because there’s a gag in your mouth. You try to move your hands, but they’re bound too. Zip ties cut into each wrist, securing them at your sides on the legs of a wooden chair. When you try to shift the chair, you learn that it’s bolted to the floor and your legs are spread open; zip ties at your knees and ankles keep them apart. Except for your bra and underwear, you’re naked. He undressed you. You feel the wound from the stun gun before you glance down at your stomach and see the two bloody pinpricks in your abdomen. You feel your heart rate increase as panic begins to set in. Do not panic , you tell yourself as you take a steadying breath. The minute you start to panic, you’re dead. You close your eyes and piece together the last dredges of your memory.

Tony’s. Sitting at the bar. The unsub. Ronan. Hotch was in pursuit. And then there was just pain.

Hotch.

The pain in your skull is overwhelming and you’re not sure if you can feel the earpiece anymore.

“Hotch,” you attempt to say through the gag. “Hotch, do you read me?”

You close your eyes as hot tears brim along your lash line when there’s no response. The signal is out of range or the unsub found the earpiece and removed it.

A door creaks open on squeaky hinges and your eyes dart toward the source of the sound. Ronan walks through the door with a sick smile on his face. As he saunters toward you, he rolls the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows. Without looking away from you, his arm drops to his side and he scoops a folding metal chair with one hand, carrying it with him as he edges closer to you.

You flinch as he cracks the chair down in front of you, forcing it open. He chuckles as he takes a seat. His eyes skirt the length of your body and you wish any limb were free to deliver a blow to his smug face.

He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws your badge. He flips it open and holds it up to your face, the way his eyes flit between you and your credentials makes your lip curl.

“An FBI agent,” he says slowly. He slaps your credentials shut against his denim-clad thighs. “Hot damn!” he shouts and whoops. He throws your badge to the wayside and it clatters against the cement floor. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been minutes. The torture is unrelenting and the pain is unending. Your chest heaves as you brace yourself for the next surge of electricity. Ronan, if that’s even his real name, twists the knob on the amplifier and taps the jumper cable clamps in his hands together. He smiles when he hears the buzz of electricity between them. As he presses them into your thighs, you cry out in pain as the shockwaves paralyze your body and mind and the pain overwhelms you.

“YES!” he roars as he pulls them away from you. He’d taken his flannel off, but now he peels off his t-shirt, balls it up, and uses it to wipe the sweat off of his face.

With the voltage no longer coursing through your veins, you slump forward, chest heaving as your scrambled brain fights to stay alert.

He drops the cables and clasps your face in his hand, forcing your chin up to meet his wild eyes. “You just don’t quit, do you? You're special.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as if he cherishes what he’s doing to you. “You are worthy of a god.”

When you come to Ronan is watching you. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands.

“She wakes,” he muses.

You glare at him and his brow pinches. He purses his lips together like he’s been stung, but his eyes are alight with amusement.

“You,” he says, gesturing up and down your body, “look beautiful.”

You don’t need to look down to know the number of bloodied burn wounds spanning the lengths of your legs. If you couldn’t keep track of any other thought, the count was all that kept you grounded. There were ten. Five on each leg. Your wrists and ankles bled from the way you’d pulled against them with every shock he delivered.

He reaches forward and this time you don’t flinch. He hooks two fingers into the gag and pulls it down over your chin, his fingers trailing your lips as he does so.

“Here,” he says, bringing a bottle of water to your lips. “Drink.”

You clamp your lips shut and turn your face away. He laughs and shakes his head. “Come on now, don’t refuse me. That’s not how you show gratitude when a god shows you mercy.”

You muster as much hatred into your stare as you focus your attention back on him. “Mercy?” you hiss, and your voice is hoarse from screaming against the gag. It hurts to speak. You pull against your restraints. “This is what you call mercy?”

“I’m only testing you to see if you’re worthy,” he says by way of explanation. "You've lasted longer than the others."

“Worthy of what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“To be my Hera.”

“How is what you’re doing to me, what you did to those other women, going to help you find her?”

“They weren’t worthy,” he answered. “They couldn’t take my power like you could, my lightning. They were false. They needed to be punished.”

He leans in, his lips close enough to yours that you can feel his smoky breath on your skin. “But you, you deserve to be rewarded.” Your skin bristles at his words. His lips find your jawline and you grimace as he drags them up the side of your face. When he pulls away, dried blood flakes onto his skin.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes as he smoothes your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “You’ll enjoy it.”

Unable to suffer any more of his poisonous bullshit, you rear your head back and slam it forward. Pain explodes behind your forehead, but it’s worth it to hear the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. He roars in pain and clutches his bleeding nose. White light blinds you as he backhands you and curses your name. His ring splits the skin of your cheek open. The force of the blow causes you to bite your lip and you feel your teeth cut into the chapped skin there. You spit blood at him, angering him further.

“You are false!” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth as he shoves the gag back into your mouth. “You are not her!” He moves to pick up the jumper cables, twisting the knob of the amplifier all the way up causing the bulbs overhead to flicker. You know this is it. If he touches you with those, it will kill you.

Bracing yourself for the killing blow, you go to the grave knowing you did not give in to this bastard.

It never lands.

Instead, three shots ring out and he’s falling to the floor dead at your feet. As the unsub’s body falls, Hotchner’s frame comes into view and a choked sob escapes your lips. He holsters his weapon and runs to you. Emily and Morgan are right behind him. Morgan passes Hotch a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and he makes quick work of the zip ties binding you to the chair. From the corner of your eye, you see Emily turn off the amplifier and check Ronan’s pulse.

Unable to hold yourself up, you fall forward into his ready arms, letting yours fall over his shoulders. Hotch drops to his knee to support your weight. “You’re okay,” he says as he pulls the gag free from your mouth and you sob into his chest. He smooths your hair back from your face, his eyes assessing the damage done to you. Blood stains his shirt, your blood.

“Morgan, your jacket.” Hotch orders.

Without hesitation, Morgan unfastens his bulletproof vest and unzips his jacket. He passes it to Hotch who drapes it around your shoulders in an attempt to preserve some of your modesty.

“I need a medic!” he shouts before directing his attention back to you.

Your eyes waver as you try to keep them open. You lock in on the depths of his warm brown eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he says but his voice sounds far away.

“He wanted someone to be his Hera,” you say weakly.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Hotch soothes.

You swallow and it hurts your throat to do so. Your lips crack open, “You found me.”

Hotch cradles your head against his chest. “Of course I did.”

You wince as the sound of a gurney crashes into the room, the metal wheels squealing as it draws near. Your head swims as you’re swept into the air and laid out on its cushiony bed. A light shines in your eyes and voices are overlapping. Blindly, you use what strength you have left to drop your hand off the side. Unable to focus your attention on where he is, you know he’ll hear you. “Don’t leave me.”

And as you lose consciousness, you feel his hand slip into yours.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

•

A steady beeping fills your ears as you slowly come to. Your eyes feel bruised and you don’t think you have it in you to open them, but you feel something around your wrists and bolt upright. Pain crashes over you in a wave. It was a dream. You’re still bound in that basement. The beeping increases, growing louder and faster. Someone says your name and you feel hands on your shoulders. You try to swing your fist and are surprised when your arm follows through and makes contact with flesh. Did you break through the zip ties? You hear your name again, clearer this time. A man. He’s asking you to stop, to relax.

“It’s me,” he repeats and says your name again. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.” He says your name again. “It’s me, it’s Aaron.”

You stop fighting and blink hard. Hotchner’s stern face comes into view, except there’s concern wavering in the depths of his brown eyes. His brow softens as you relax. A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “Hey there,” he says. A nurse rushes into the room and he raises a hand, “We’re fine, here. Thank you.”

The nurse looks at you and you nod. She looks unsure about leaving but ultimately relents. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

Aaron cups the back of your head in one of his hands and gently begins to lower you back down onto the pillows behind you. You allow him to guide you and feel the tension ease from your muscles as your back sinks into the surprisingly plush hospital pillow.

As the adrenaline wears off, you’re finally able to take stock of your injuries as the pain quickly makes itself known. You feel your pulse beating in your skull, pounding at your temples, eyebrow, and cheekbone. With shaky fingers, you touch the places where you remember the unsub striking you. You feel a thick bandage taped over your right eyebrow and steri-strips over your cheek. Your lip is swollen from where you bit it.

Bandages encircle your wrists and there’s an IV stuck in your hand. You’ve been dressed in a hospital gown and the sheets are drawn up to your waist covering the burn wounds. You don't have to see them to know how bad they look. The pain is telling enough.

“Is he dead?” you ask, lowering your hand back down to the bed.

Hotch’s lips form a tight line. “Yes.”

You blink back tears as that information sinks in. “Good,” you whisper in a choked voice. You blink and allow your head to loll to the side. A colorful bouquet of roses and carnations dotted with plastic ladybugs and butterflies sits in a clear vase on the side table.

You smile, “Garcia?”

Hotch smiles in turn. “It was tough to convince her to go home and get some sleep, but I promised her I wouldn’t leave you alone. Even then, it was still a hard-fought battle.”

You chuckle and wince as the movement irritates your injuries.

Hotch telegraphs his next move, and you know it’s to avoid startling you. He cups his hand over your uninjured cheek and strokes the skin there with his thumb.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, and his voice sounds tired and pained. “I should’ve gone inside with you.”

“Hotch, don’t.” You reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist. “Don’t do that to yourself. He didn’t know I was with the FBI until after he took me. If you’d been there, he might’ve pegged us as law enforcement and taken off. He might still be out there and we’d be finding another dead woman in a matter of days. You know I’m right.”

Hotch closes his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. “I could hear you.”

“What?” you whisper. You try to sit up and wince as the movement stings the wounds in your legs and abdomen. Hotch stands and helps adjust the pillows behind your back before sitting back down in the chair at your bedside.

“Not for very long. He drove out of range, but I heard him speaking to you. I heard the blows land. I heard your head smack against the floor when he threw you in the van.” He stops and shakes his head. “I felt so helpless. I was afraid. I couldn’t get to you, just like,” his voice catches in his throat. “just like I couldn’t get to Haley.”

Your heart breaks for him as he speaks. You reach for his hand and take it, squeezing it. “Aaron, you did get to me. You saved my life.”

He clears his throat and swallows. “Yes, but we were almost too late.”

“But you weren’t,” you state, your tone firm. “Aaron, look at me.”

He hesitates and inhales deeply before lifting his gaze to yours. The corners of his eyes soften as he meets yours and you smile. You gently tug his hand, “Come here.”

Hotch glances toward the door and then back at you, “The doctor—“

“Isn’t going to do shit,” you finish. “I’m the one that endured hours of torture. Pretty sure I’m allowed some close comfort.”

He lets out a shallow laugh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Standing, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair. With one hand he loosens his tie until he’s able to pull it up and over his head. He tosses it onto the chair and circumnavigates the bed, assessing the best way to join you on the small mattress.

You groan as you slide over. Hotch reaches out to stop you but you silence him with a pointed look. “Mind the IV,” you say as you pat the space beside you.

Hotch acquiesces, using the tips of his fingers to raise the IV drip enough for him to slide into bed beside you. He slips an arm around you and drops the feed. It falls across his torso. The feel of his arm around you is comforting, like a security blanket, like safety. You relax into him, and rest your head on his chest. His lips brush against your bandaged brow.

“Not quite how I imagined we’d first be sharing a bed,” you joke softly as you nuzzle in deeper against the wide plane of his chest.

You feel him smile against your hair. “Only you could joke at a time like this.”

“If I can’t laugh at what’s happened, I’ll never be able to close my eyes at night.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” He rubs the bare skin of your arm in small circles. “I’ll be there until you can.”

You turn your head to look at him then, your heart full. This is happening. His eyes are on yours and you push yourself toward him ever so slightly. He closes the small gap between you and presses his lips to yours. It wasn’t hungry and primal like the kiss in the car. There would be plenty of time for that later. This kiss was light, tender…healing.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I tried to go home, I really did but as soon as I got there I—” Garcia’s voice abruptly cuts off. You look up and her initial look of surprise turns to one of abject joy.

You feel your cheeks flush as Emily and Morgan appear in the doorway behind her. Morgan’s eyes widen and Emily’s brow arches as a smile curves her lips.

“I, uh, brought backup.” Penelope giggles. She remembers she’s holding something. “And cookies! I couldn’t sleep, so I baked. I figured I could bribe you into going home and getting some sleep.” Her words leave her mouth at a mile a minute. “I thought you’d fight me on it, so I brought some muscle.” She gestures with a tilt of her head. “They’re the muscle.”

Morgan exhales and points a finger at you and Hotch. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?”

Emily elbows him and he drops his arm. She takes the tray from Garcia and walks it over to the side table where she places it next to the flowers. She winks at you as she turns back to Garcia and Morgan. “It’s about time,” she says.

Penelope laughs as she hooks her arm in Emily’s. “What's it been? Two, three months?”

Morgan guffaws. “Months?”

Penelope pats his face with a ring-adorned hand. “My sweet oblivious profiler. Come on, hot stuff.” She takes him by the hand and leads him from the room. Emily shakes her head and laughs. “Men.”

“Safe to say the team knows.”

Hotch releases a breathy laugh and kisses your forehead again. “I know what will be the first thing on the agenda at tomorrow’s debriefing.”

•

6 weeks. It had been 6 weeks since you’d pressed the elevator button that would bring you back to the office. The weight of your gun feels right where it sits upon your hip, your gait more familiar to you now than when it wasn’t holstered to your side. You nervously adjust the grip on your go bag. You’d packed and repacked it the night before.

This morning as you were getting out of the shower, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your cheek had healed nicely though the skin on your brow that had been split by the unsub’s ring had scarred, severing the tail end of your eyebrow from the rest of it. The ligature marks around your wrists and ankles had healed and the skin was smooth once more. The stun gun had scarred your abdomen, but all that remained were two purple pinpricks of scar tissue no bigger than the size of an infant’s thumbnail.

Your legs are a different story. The front of your thighs are an array of mottled scar tissue. One burn had gone so deep that they’d needed to graft skin from your calf to salvage it. The wounds no longer hurt physically, but you’d woken up from nightmares on more than one occasion.

You were never alone though. Garcia worked remotely on secure laptops with VPNs as often as she was able. Rossi brought you home-cooked Italian at least twice a week and talked with you over numerous glasses of red wine. Reid brought black-and-white foreign existentialist films that you didn’t understand, but his enthusiasm as he watched made you happy all the same. Emily and Morgan brought coffee and donuts as often as they could and Hotch…if he wasn’t at the office or visiting Jack, he was with you. On several occasions, he brought Jack. Jack would sit on the bed beside you, playing with his toys, narrating the adventures of his action figures as Aaron stood in the doorway, smiling. At night, when you had woken in a cold sweat, Aaron was there with a washcloth to wipe it away. When the bandages had stuck to your burn wounds and it felt like your skin was being peeled apart, he got your pain medicine and helped change the dressings, holding you until the pain had passed.

You blink as the elevator dings, signaling you’ve reached your destination. You take a deep breath and smooth down the front of your blouse as the door opens wide. Everything looks the same, yet everything feels like it's changed as you approach the desk you occupy perpendicular to Emily’s. A smile crosses your lips as you see the Welcome Bac k card on your desk. Two vases of flowers sit behind the card. One is almost exactly like the one from the hospital so you know it’s from Garcia. The other, a bouquet of purple tulips, has a note attached to it. You open the note and read it.

Glad to have you back. Things haven’t been the same around here without you. -AH

Hotch. You should’ve known. You smile and tuck the note into your purse.

“Hey, hey, look who’s finally decided to get her ass back to work.” Morgan’s charming laugh is followed by Emily chastising him.

“Ignore him,” she says as she places a steaming mug of coffee on your desk.

“You’re a godsend,” you say by way of thanks and take a long drink. Two sugars, no milk, just the way you like. “Wow, Emily, that’s perfect. I needed this.”

“How come you don’t remember how I take my coffee?” Morgan asks pointedly.

She shrugs, “Chicks before dicks, Derek.”

You sputter and choke on your coffee.

“Look,” he says as he pats you on the back. “Her first day back and you’re gonna kill her.”

At that moment JJ passes by with a file in hand. She raises it in the air and gestures to the conference room. “We got a case.” She smiles at you warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”

Together, you, Morgan, and Emily enter the conference room where Reid, Hotch, and Rossi have already gathered. Once you’re all sat, JJ begins presenting the case. You review current victims and why the Sacramento Police Department has invited you onto the case

“Sacramento PD is expecting us this afternoon. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Wheels up in thirty, understood?”

A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ echo throughout the room. As the team gathers their belongings and moves to leave, you wait for Hotch to catch your eye. You wink at him before mouthing, “Yes, sir.”

[kupidachillea]

Hello! Could you do hcs of Telemachus?? Thankyouu

Telemachus x Reader Hcs (Romantic)

Author note: Thank you so much for requesting, this was honestly a big help to snap me out off my writers block 🙏

TW: None. This is fluff.

🕯️ - Having Telemachus as a partner was not something you out right expected, but it wasn’t something you were opposed to. After all, you should be happy that the Prince of Ithaca had chosen you of all people to be his lover.

🏵️- Even so, it still came as a surprise to you. Especially when he came up to you with a sheepish, yet charming look on his face asking if you were free to come walk with him. How could you say no? But that’s the thing,.you didn’t.

🕯️- It happened late in the afternoon..the Greek sun high in the sky as you stood in front of your home sweeping dust away to make the place looks somewhat presentable and out of nowhere he showed up. Looking as awkward as a young teenaged boy asking his crush to prom.

🏵️- Introducing himself and asking for your name which you happily gave him before he told you why he was here. He looked a little nervous at first but when you agreed to his offer he couldn’t have been happier. And that’s just about how your meeting went with the young prince and from that day forward, he’d come by whenever you were free and asked to go for a walk.

🕯️-And for the first few months you enjoyed his company. You’d often find yourself over at the palace watching him train or listening to him ramble about his future plans.

🏵️-If you’re the type to ramble as well, he’ll gladly be quiet and listen to you rant on about anything and everything. And even if you don’t, he still loves to listen to you. Your voice being a source of comfort. 🕯️-He’ll often confide in you about how he misses his father and how he hopes that he comes home soon..

🏵️- It’s been years! And of course you haven’t seen the king too- you were both nothing but babies at the times most of the men and Odysseus were called into war.

🕯️- Of course you’d comfort the prince, telling that it’d be okay and that his father would come sooner than later, which Telemachus appreciated.

🏵️-Soon enough though, Telemachus found himself staring to fall for you and he wasted no time in showing up at your home and asking if it would be alright for him to court you.

🕯️-The look of surprise on your face made him worried at first, thinking you’d say no to him. But you didn’t- you actually said yes.

🏵️- And he couldn’t have been happier, of course he immediately took you into his arms and spun you around, nuzzling his face into your neck before putting you down and taking your hand to go and spend time with you.

🕯️- His love language is acts of service and physical touch. He loves to just hold your hand or do things for you, anything at all. You need help cleaning? He’s over at your house immediately. You want someone to come with you to the market? He’ll be your personal chaperone.

🏵️- He’s not much of a cook but he tries he’s best, often asking his mother, Penelope or some servants for advice on how to improve.

🕯️- Telemachus just can’t wait for the day his dad comes home, wanting to introduce you to him and hopefully getting his approval.

🏵️- And when you finally do meet the king himself, he accepts you with open arms. Even if he was a bit apprehensive at first, but anything for his son.

🕯️- Telemachus isn’t too possessive, but he is protective to an extent. Like his father with the suitors, he’s willing to swing a sword if he has to, he can’t stand the idea of someone trying to, or rather attempt at wooing you.

🏵️- He loves to call you his ‘Little sparrow..’, to him, it just fits. Of course he’ll call you the usual nicknames, like ‘my love’ , ‘darling’, ‘sweetheart’.. but his main one it sweet song bird nicknames.

🕯️- He’s definitely the type of man to fuss over you if you get injured. Making sure you’re alright first, asking what caused it then ranting about how you need to be more careful, even just a little. After he patches you up he gives you a kiss before pulling you into his arms.

🏵️- Finally, Telemachus is the type of man to value those sweet little moments you both have. When you finally share a bed, he treasures the small moments before you go to sleep..rubbing your back softly and cooing or early in the morning..10 minutes before you both decide to get up.. whispering sweet nothings to you and massaging your arm lightly..peppering your cheeks with kisses.

Eeeeee! This was fun to right other than my usual boys. Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy this. I’m sorry it’s a bit shorter Tyana I wanted, I tried my best- but if I get more Telemachus requests I’ll improve on the hcs and probably X readers too.💕

[oaksgrove]

Just Some Peace and Wild.

Pairing: John Price x Countrywoman/Cowgirl!Reader

Synopsis: John Price didn’t come to the countryside looking for love. He came for quiet—grass instead of gravel, sky instead of smoke, wind instead of war. But the land came with neighbors. And one of them was you. You weren’t what he came looking for. But  you’re exactly what he needed.

Warnings: Soft slow-burn romance, emotional vulnerability, weather-related tension (storm), mutual caretaking, rural life themes.

Word Count: 1281

John Price wasn’t running from anything.

Not war. Not duty. Not even the ghosts that liked to visit him in the quiet hours of the night. No—he just wanted something different.

Peace.

Grass underfoot instead of concrete.

The sound of birds, not gunfire.

Quiet.

So, he bought a cottage in the countryside. Not too big. Not too small. Just enough for a man who wanted to be alone with the wind and his thoughts. A stone chimney. A small porch. Rolling fields as far as the eye could see.

What he didn’t plan for… was you.

You and your boots, dusty with dry earth. You and your pickup truck that always rattled like it had one screw loose. You and your hat, tipped low over your sun-warmed face, and the gentle way you called to your horses like they were old friends.

He met you when you pulled into his drive one morning with a basket full of eggs and a “Welcome to the village” smile. You’d waved before he could say anything, like you already knew he wouldn’t be much of a talker.

“Figured you looked like you could use some proper eggs,” you said cheerfully. “Not those sad ones from the store. I live two pastures down. Holler if you need anything, sugar.”

He blinked. Sugar?

You didn’t seem to mind his quiet. You talked like water running over smooth stones—soft, steady, happy just to fill the air.

At first, he thought it’d drive him mad.

But it didn’t.

It soothed him. Slowly. Like the way sun warms the frost away.

You dropped by with little things: blackberry jam, fresh butter, tips on which garden seeds did best in this soil. You’d lean on the fence and tell stories while he smoked his pipe and watched you from the porch. Always talking, always smiling, never asking more from him than he could give.

He liked that.

He likes you.

You’d show up with hay stuck in your hair, sometimes a smudge of dirt on your cheek, laughing about a goat that got into the feed bin again or the time your horse refused to cross a stream out of pure spite.

John started to look forward to your voice. Your laugh. The way you didn’t treat him like a soldier who’d seen too much, but a man who was just trying to grow tomatoes without them dying in a week.

One day, you brought him an apple pie and caught him trying to fix the roof.

“You’ll break your neck, Price,” you scolded playfully, hands on your hips. “Let me give you a hand.”

He grunted. “You know how to fix a roof?”

“Sugar, I grew up baling hay and wrangling cows. You think I don’t know my way around a hammer?”

He laughed then. Really laughed. First time in months.

You patched the hole while he held the ladder steady, eyes on your boots as you danced around the shingles like it was nothing. When you climbed down, he handed you a glass of lemonade and said, quietly, “Thanks.”

You didn’t ask what for. You just nudged his arm with yours and said, “Anytime, cowboy.”

You weren’t what he came here for. He came for silence.

But what he found?

Was the kind of quiet that only exists when someone fills the spaces inside you just right.

You and your sunshine grin.

You and your gentle hands and big heart.

You, humming while you fed the chickens.

You, swinging on his porch with him in the evenings, head resting on his shoulder.

John Price wanted peace. And he found it.

In you.

—

Weeks passed and you had been too quiet.

No baskets of eggs. No honey jars. No boots on his porch steps. No you.

But John noticed why.

The wind.

Not the gentle kind that carried wildflower petals across the pasture, but the sharp-edged gusts that snapped clotheslines and stirred the horses into uneasy pacing. The clouds rolled in low and heavy, the air thick with the smell of coming rain and earth waiting to drink.

You hadn’t said anything—too proud, maybe, or too damn busy—but he could see it in your tired eyes the last time you passed him on the road. A wave, thinner than usual. A smile that didn’t quite reach your cheeks.

The storm was coming. And you were alone trying to outrun it.

He waited until the sky turned the color of steel and the trees started to bend. Then, without a word, he grabbed his coat, pulled on his boots, and headed for your farm.

You didn’t hear his truck over the wind, but you noticed him the second he opened the barn door.

“John?” You blinked, a little breathless, arms elbow-deep in stacking bags of feed. Your shirt was sticking to your back, hands covered in  hay. “What are you—?”

“You stopped showing up,” he said simply, voice steady, eyes sweeping over the chaos behind you. Loose tarps. Skittish animals. Equipment not yet covered.

You opened your mouth, maybe to lie, maybe to reassure—but then your shoulders dropped. You looked tired.

“I couldn’t keep up,” you admitted. Quiet. “I didn’t want to ask.”

John stepped inside, rolled up his sleeves, and said, “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t wait to be asked.”

It was all hands on deck after that. You, him, and the last stretch of daylight.

You led the animals into shelter while he secured the barn doors. He moved with precision—like a man who knew how to work under pressure, like someone who’d been fighting storms his whole life. And now, he’d decided this was the one worth winning.

He threw the tarp over your tractor while you gathered feed into dry storage. When one of your goats got loose, he didn’t even flinch—just chased it down with a stern, “Bloody hell,” and hauled it under one arm like a grumbling child.

The rain came down just as the last latch was locked.

Big, punishing drops that pounded the tin roof. You both stood in front of the barn, soaked through, panting.

Then, you laughed. Sharp and breathless, more from relief than anything.

“Christ,” you muttered, “I was never gonna finish it in time.”

John leaned against the stall door, a half-smile hidden under his soaked beard. “Good thing your knight in muddy boots showed up, then.”

There was no safe way back through the valley roads. Too much rain. Too much wind.

So you put the kettle on.

And John sat in your kitchen, still damp, while you towel-dried your hair and tossed him a blanket.

It was quiet—warm in a way that storms made special. The kind of quiet that happened when there was nothing more to do. Just the soft creak of the old floorboards and the way his eyes lingered on you like he was finally letting himself look.

“You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know,” he said after a while, voice rasp but soft.

You sat across from him, fingers wrapped around a chipped mug. “I’ve always did it.”

“Well,” he said, setting his cup down, “not anymore.”

You stared at him. Not in disbelief—but in something close to gratitude so heavy it made your heart ache.

Then he stood. Walked over. And with that same care he used with the spooked horses and cows, he reached out and tucked a wet strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ve got you now,” he murmured. “And I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash @pythonmoth @kittygonap @rainyjellybear @anonymouse1807 @twoandahalfdimes

[dadupbuck]

February wrap up

This month I have bookmarked 25 fics! Though I'm only sharing the 9-1-1 fics in this wrap up. All except 1 are Buddie

It only takes a taste (when it's something special) by weewooforever

Buddie | Rated E | 7k | summer of buckfidelity, getting together, first kiss, first time | 2024

Eddie shifts slightly and clears his throat again. “But can you answer my original question? What’s it like kissing a guy?” Buck shrugs, trying to sound casual. “Honestly? It’s pretty much the same as kissing a girl. Lips are lips, you know?” Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Really? It’s just the same?” “Yeah, I mean, it’s all about the connection,” Buck replies, feeling a bit defensive. “Kissing is kissing, right?” Eddie crosses his arms, unconvinced. “Come on, Buck. It can’t be that simple. You’re telling me there’s no difference at all?” Buck leans back, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “Well, if you don’t believe me, I could always prove it to you.”

You're my home, and I'm happy here by gisseleslash

Buddie | Rated G | 2K | established buddie, protective Eddie, insecure Buck, soft Buddie, emotional hurt/comfort | 2025

Chim teases Buck about moving too quickly with Eddie and it brings out all of his doubts. Fortunately Eddie has no doubts about them. Not a single one.

Things that go 'hoot' in the night by Shortsighted_Owl

Buddie | rated G | 5K | established buddie, halloween, worried Eddie, reckless Buck | 2022

Frowning, Buck turns his head toward the noise. Two branches up, obscured by a well placed cluster of twigs, a pair of golden eyes stare back. Gulping, Buck takes a hand from the ladder, and slowly, slowly moves it to his radio, feeling the button give as he tentatively presses the top, hearing the slight squawk of static as the channel opens. “Ugh guys, I think I found our suspect.” Immediately, the leaves around him shudder, as the bright eyes suddenly get much, much closer. “HOOOOO” hoots the owl, the white feathers of its throat puffing up as it leans forward and shouts at the human in its tree. Its head bobs forward as its wings slowly spread, filling the space around it. Buck blanches as the bird puffs up its feathers even more, a wall of bronze and black. “AH!” replies the rather startled human. - Halloween is in full swing and as the veil between worlds thins, things start to go bump in the night. When a jogger is mysteriously injured on a busy street with no witnesses, the 118 are called in to help. Buck, however, discovers their suspect isn't exactly what they had in mind.

Call Me What You Will by ameliahart

Buddie | rated E | 6k | post 8x06 confessions, first time, getting together, Eddie’s couch | 2025

“I knew I was interrupting when I got here,” he continues, gesturing to Eddie’s outfit with one hand while his other creeps up Eddie’s thigh, his thumb brushing along the inside. “But I didn’t realize I was interrupting.” “I was doing Risky Business,” Eddie insists. “C’mon, man. Tom Cruise?” Buck looks utterly delighted, clearly not believing a word coming out of Eddie’s mouth. “Sounds like your business was risky, all right.” “Buck.” “Good thing I didn’t use my key.” “Buck.” *** Yet another continuation of 8x06 where Buck pouts, Eddie feels joy, and they fuck about it.

Cowboy Take Me Away by PixelsMom1990

Buddie | rated T | 6k | getting together, flustered Buck, cowboy Eddie, pining, worried Buck, Texan accent | 2022

Sometimes, Buck forgot that Eddie was from Texas. He’d been in LA for so long that he didn’t really have an accent anymore, except for when he was really sleepy or had a little too much to drink. His vowels would drop, syllables would get a little bit too long and suddenly everyone was “honey” or “baby” or god forbid “darlin’” and Hen would have to scrape Buck off the floor. Literally. Or, Buck is occasionally reminded of Eddie’s roots in Texas and behaves appropriately.

From Your Point of View by MacksDramaticShenanigans

Buddie | rated T | 4k | drunk, first kiss, getting together, coming out, making out, love confessions, sleepy cuddled | 2025

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie not-quite-slurs. It’s a close thing, though. The glass in his hand is his fourth— no, fifth, and wine always hits him so much harder. He’s bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked and loose-limbed on the couch, pressed so close to Buck he’s half in his lap. Buck’s got a steadying arm around his waist— couldn’t avoid the draw to touch even if he wanted to. “Hm?” Buck asks, feeling a little buzzy himself. “Buck,” Eddie repeats. “You’re bicyc—bisect— bisexual.” Buck laughs at Eddie’s stumble. Smiles bright, proud, and nods. “I am,” he agrees. “Have you ever—” Eddie’s winestained mouth purses; his brow furrows thoughtfully, “— have you ever thought about me?” He sways forward, widens his eyes purposefully, whispers, “Like, y’know.”

All that you ever wanted from me by stevesconverse

Buddie | rated T | 7,8k | migraines, sick Buck, Eddie takes care of Buck, first kiss, getting together, hurt/comfortz, chronic pain, soft Buddie, Buck has self-esteem issues | 2024

He inspects the way Buck’s face sinks into his pillow, the way his thick arm rests over the comforter, hugging it to his body, the way his brow is still furrowed with tension. God, he’s beautiful. Eddie shudders at the realization. It’s not like he had never given it a thought before, had never caught himself staring at Buck from across the room—but this is different. It’s not just admiration anymore. His heart warms in a way that makes him uncomfortable and unsure of what he’s feeling. Subconsciously, he lets one hand reach out, thumb tenderly smoothing over the creases in Buck’s forehead. It’s almost casual, like it’s not a big deal. Like it’s just something he does, even though this moment is anything but casual. Like he’s not blurring the lines of their relationship right now, like a wave washing over drawings in the sand. or the one where Eddie takes care of Buck when he's being plagued by a bad migraine.

Give me a call if you ever get lonely by loveisawildthing

Buddie | rated E | 21,7k | texting, phone sex, friends with benefits, sharing a bed, getting together, hurt/comfort, fluff | 2024

“What are you wearing?” Buck asks. Eddie’s laugh is sharp and loud, not having expected Buck to say that. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” “Eddie. It’s a classic. Tell me.” “What if I said I’ve got nothing on?” Eddie asks, purposely pitching his voice lower. “Hey,” Buck scolds him. “First rule of phone sex: no lying.” “There are rules?” “You are so difficult.” Eddie tells Buck to text him whenever he's thinking of Tommy, so he doesn't have to keep baking. Safe to say, things...escalate.

Wrong bed, Buck! By Ellesworth86

Buddie | rated M | 3k | sleepwalking, sleeping together/sharing a bed, mutual pining, first time, drunken confessions, Buck needs a hug, worried Eddie | 2023

Three times that Buck got into the wrong bed, and one where he found the right one. ---- The first time it happened, Buck was exhausted... Eddie had just gotten comfortable and was feeling himself start to drift off to sleep when his door opened slowly. Groaning, he opened his eyes, and squinting, he watched as Buck silently walked around the bed, pulled back the comforter and climbed in. “Wrong bed, Buck.” Eddie heard himself mumble, still in that drowsy stage, halfway between asleep and awake. “No ‘s’not.” The reply came, just as sleepily. “Right bed...nice and warm...favourite person...” Then a snore as he rolled onto his side, his back to Eddie, who didn’t have either the energy or the heart to argue, so he just curled up on his side and fell back asleep.

I Will Not Ask (and Neither Should You) by buckschewtoy, StupidGenius

Buddie | rated E | 11k | bucktommy break up, jealous Eddie, possessive Eddie, transgender Buck, infidelity/buckfidelity, feelings realization, love confessions, Eddie & Karen friendship | 2024

“Don’t be so heartfelt when I’m trying to be dirty, man.” “Maybe your dirty talk needs a little work.” Eddie laughs. “Because yours is so much better?” Eddie closes the distance, nipping a little on Buck’s lower lip. “Could be.” He murmurs lowly. Buck sighs happily, rolling his hips. His hands slide up to cradle Eddie’s jaw, mouth moving against his. He makes a little hurt sound as Eddie encourages him, and the reality of the situation finally hits him. Buck’s cheating on his boyfriend. With Eddie.

Plant new seeds in the melody by bibuckleyforever

Buddie | rated G | 21,5k | 4 chapters - complete | AU, different first meeting, florist Buck, POV alternating, fluff, no angst, flirting, getting together, soft Buddie, first kiss | 2023

“So,” Hen starts as she sits down next to Eddie on the couch once they’re back at the fire station. “So?” Eddie asks expectantly, putting his phone down from where he had been sending Chris a reminder text to get started on his English essay this weekend. “I saw you flirting with the florist. Scratch that, everyone saw you flirting with the florist.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at her. “Flirting? I was not flirting.” “You were basically drooling over the guy. Not that I blame you, even I could tell he’s gorgeous.” Eddie rolls his eyes and goes back to typing his message to Chris. “Was he? I didn’t even notice.” “Mhm,” Hen says as she watches Eddie tapping at his phone. “He had that nice blonde hair, and those beautiful big brown eyes and–” “Blue,” Eddie corrects before snapping his head up to see Hen smirking at him. His face burns bright red. “Okay, yes, he was attractive. Happy now?” --- Or, Eddie's all but given up on dating when he meets Buck at the scene of a call. Chimney and Hen think of it as a sign from the universe. Buck and Eddie think of it as a chance to finally get the love story they've always wanted.

Drunk accidents (sober decisions) by buddiesmutslut

Buddie | rated E | 7k | s7e5 You Don't Know Me, canon divergent, no bucktommy, getting together, lingerie, possessive Eddie, jealous Buck, Edisol breakup | 2024

Immediately following the coming out scene in the loft, Buck gets a package delivered that he'd ordered one night in a drunken haze. The contents will change the trajectory of his life.

Find My Friends by TazzySnow

Buddie | rated T | 7k | established Buddie, buried alive, Buck whump, kidnapping, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, protective Eddie | 2023

Buck has wondered before what it was like underground when Eddie was buried alive, and the idea of being buried alive gives him the fucking willies for sure, but he's never been afraid of tight spaces. He's an object, a piece of a collection yet to be harvested. The sound of the dirt being piled above him grows more and more muffled until it's gone completely and he lays in silence. --- Buck is buried alive and it's a damn good thing Eddie stalks him on Find My Friends.

By act of grace by hattalove

Buddie | rated T | 10k | getting together, recovery, first kiss, family fluff, pining, dogs, dog dad Eddie | 2022

“Oh,” Greg says, his face falling, “that’s Lucifer.” Buck lets out something between a laugh and a cough. “Lucifer,” he repeats. “It's a long story,” Greg says, tugging on the collar of his polo, his name tag clinking. “He's—not exactly well socialized, and he really, really hates—“ he starts, except he’s interrupted by Eddie’s voice, the first words Buck has heard him say since they dropped Chris off at Hen and Karen's. “Hi,” Eddie says, crouching right under the bright red sign – which, now that Buck’s close enough to read it, says DO NOT PET – and reaching his fingers toward the bars. “—men,” Greg finishes, his voice weak, frozen mid-step like he’s not sure if he should be hauling Eddie away while there’s still time. “He hates men. Usually.” or the one in which healing looks a little like ten pounds of dog with a mean streak.

Midnight by DuoOfDiaz

Buddie | rated T | 126 | established Buddie, drabble, texting, text fic, engaged Buddie | 2025

Written for Buddie Month Week Four: prompt - Midnight

Parabola by semperama

Buddie | rated T | 4,6k | post s8e8 wannabes, getting together, Eddie’s will, angst with a happy ending | 2025

“Hey, uh. By the way.” Buck’s been thinking about this, and he has to say it now, or it’ll explode out of him at a much worse time, in a much worse way. “Make sure you don’t forget to change your will again.” Eddie turns toward him, mouth quirked, brow furrowed, like Buck has just said something sort of silly. Like he’s talking about curses again. “What?” “I mean. Like.” Buck twists his fingers together in his lap and looks down at them. “You need to change it so your parents will be his guardians, right? If something happens to you.” “What?” Eddie says again, and he doesn’t sound amused this time.

What is Love for $2000? By fayevian

Buddie | rated M | 17K | AU, different first meeting, social media, mixed media, humor, light angst, Jeopardy, fluff, smart Buck, famous Buck | 2023

On the screen, the camera pans down as they introduce the contestants. Mary, on her 3rd day winning streak, is a dowdy teacher type. Center stage is occupied by a graying man with loopy handwriting named Auggie. And all the way to the right is… Evan. Damn. --- One night when Eddie can't sleep, he discovers the hottest Jeopardy contestant of all time (objectively). With the "help" of his team and his fairly good working knowledge of Twitter, they devise a plan to get Evan (from Jeopardy) to slide into Eddie's DMs. It works surprisingly well.

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life by lamardeuse

Buddie | rated T | 4k | first kiss, season 6, drunk Buck, angst, emotional hurt Buck | 2022

Three hours after the fertility clinic called him, Buck was in the bar down the street from his apartment getting drunk off his ass.

We'd be so grand at the game by lamardeuse

Buddie | rated E | 12K | practice dating, didn't know they were dating, first kiss, first time, idiots to lovers | 2023

“How are we gonna practice dating if we can't even take the first step?” Three hours later, when he was lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, Eddie would not be able to pinpoint with any certainty what possessed him to say what he said next. All he knew was that at the time, it seemed like the perfect answer, the obvious solution. “We practice on each other.”

Heaven's a thing (I go there when I touch you) by gooseishere

Buddie | not rated | 1k | first kiss, cuddling, love confessions, getting together, fluff | 2023

Buck sighs, “God this is so embarrassing, can I-“ He turns to look Eddie in the eyes. “Can I have a hug?” Part of Eddie wants to laugh. Laugh at the absurdity of Buck being this nervous to ask Eddie for something as simple as a hug. The other part of Eddie wants to tug Buck to his chest and never let go. “Of course, you can. C’mere.” (or, buck and eddie hug. repeatedly)

And I'd do it over and over again by playinginthunderstorms

Buddie | rated E | 4k | post s8e6 confessions, first time | 2025

Gun to his head, Buck honestly doesn't think he could say which one of them made the first move, but somewhere in between the six-pack he'd brought over and whatever was left of a dusty bottle of tequila in the back of a kitchen cupboard, Eddie—beautiful, radiant Eddie, with his pink shirt and tiny underwear—had ended up in his lap, thighs bracketing Buck's, gasping and grinding helplessly into Buck's hips, the most delicious whines spilling out of his mouth and straight onto Buck's tongue, white-hot pleasure spiking through him as potent as the lightning bolt, so he figures he'll at least die happy. (Or, Buck and Eddie hook up at the end of "Confessions".)

It was our place by HisBucky

Buck & Chimney | rated T | 1,5k | introspection, found family, brothers | 2023

Blue eyes instead of brown. Strawberry instead of vanilla. “You’re my brother. You know that. Right?” -:- or the time when Chimney brings Buck to his and Kevin's favorite diner

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct Yandere TWST x Fem Reader Monster AU pt 28

(Kalim is a Genie in a long line of powerful almost godly Genies. Usually the Al-Asim's are very adept in their magic and no other species has been known to be able to grant wishes the way Genies can. Among Genies- which are already rare- Al-Asim's are a step above the rest. Kalim is not meeting the expected ability and skill of the Al-Asim name but his father still holds out hope that Kalim will one day flourish.)

Warnings; ovulation, protective Platonic Yanderes, yanderes vs yanderes, several yanderes, various levels of yandere, pushy yanderes, conflict, nods to what is going on outside of NRC, Hellcat, Shadow-man, Minotaur, Sphinx, Harpies, Selkie, Merfolk, Drider, Nemean Lion, Unicorn, Plant Nymph, Dragon, vampire bat,

~~~~

You woke up with a happy sound in your throat, stretching out your legs as you had so much space with just Grim in the nest with you. All of the warm blankets forming a comfortable pile of softness around you with the many soft plushies Trein had gifted you. Naturally, you adored the time you got to yourself and it almost made you sad to realize how that peacefulness would be gone soon enough.

You recognized that there was going to be a give and take going forward. Who knew how the monsters were taking your absence or the knowledge of your ovulation, knowing Riddle tried to stop by no less than three times with complaints. Even beyond the Unicorn, apparently Floyd and Rook were caught trying to scale the walls, Ruggie was trying to burrow under Ramshackle, and several others tried to get in to see you in various ways.

You were not so naïve as to believe they were all friendly visits. If Malleus was anything to go off of, they genuinely believed you wanted or needed a mate simply because of your cycle. Part of you wanted to move on from your own cycle already but there was nothing you could really do at that moment to speed up the clock.

As you slowly let yourself wake up, you could smell the warm and alluring scent of breakfast being cooked as you wondered what Sam was making today. The staff guarding you was a much more peaceful endeavor than the students guarding you and you held out hope that at least once a month you could have this downtime. Of course, it also helped to know that the staff saw you more as their own young than they did an object of interest like the others seemed to.

Grim woke with a cute little purr, crawling on his belly so he could press his forehead against your neck. Clearly the young Hellcat was happy to have space as well, his little wings fluttering slightly as he stretched. You grabbed clothes and got yourself mostly put together for the day before joining the numerous staff members in the main kitchen area.

Sam was whistling as he flipped what looked to be pancakes of some kind and stirred some kind of meat in a pan. Divus was already sitting at the table with a news paper that somewhat caught your attention seeing as one of the photos you had taken with Erikír was being used as the front page. It said something about Erikír going feral and attacking you, seeming to be blaming the prince for the televised fall out. Trein was grading papers idly while he sipped tea, Lucius curled up next to him with a gentle purring as Crowley tapped away at his phone nearby.

You couldn't see Vargas, but a quick look outside of the window told you the minotaur was busy patrolling. He was even actively shoving away a flustered Riddle down the walkway of Ramshackle. Though you couldn't hear the Unicorn, it was clear he was shouting something as the Minotaur used his wide horns to shove Riddle back.

"Good morning my little bird! How was-"

The Harpy suddenly snorted, his wings fluttering out to the sides for a moment as he cocked his head. His odd response made the others pause what they were doing and turn to look at you curiously. There was a moment of quiet as they all looked at one another before back at you, Divus setting his paper aside to face you fully.

"It seems today is the day. Pup, I think you should stay inside today and away from the windows."

"What? Why?"

"Your scent. It seems we have entered the 12-24 hour period that is the height of your ovulation, and I don't trust those mangy mongrels out there to keep themselves contained."

"Oh... So does that mean we can watch more movies?"

"So long as we stay inside- and you stay away from the windows or doors- we can watch anything you want, Pup."

~•§•~

"Oh my, judging from the scent it seems dear (Y/n) is at peak fertility."

Jade remarked offhandedly, walking on one side of Azul and Floyd on the other. The three had passed by Ramshackle several times in the past few days and there was a clear difference in scent today. The sweet scent that always surrounded the soft Human had become overwhelmingly strong and soaked the air in alluring pheromones.

It was clear the three weren't the only ones to realize this change as well.

A rather decently sized gathering had formed outside of the dorm sweet (Y/n) called home, noses in the air and aggression running high between the various male students. Even Leona was present and seemed to be basking in that wonderful scent. Truly, it seemed like the only dorm that had zero students present was Diasomnia.

"Mon Dieu! But is that not a truly veritable bouquet of aromas to the senses? How fulfilling and enchanting! Calling like a song to all around and begging for a second voice to complete the aria."

Rook sighed dreamily, almost melting as he took a deep inhalation. Vil was no better, humming softly as if preparing to let out a loud call in the hopes the soft Human will answer back. Even Epel was nearby, eyes turned towards the building in an attempt to catch sight of that warm Human.

"You can't do this!"

Riddle yelled angrily, still being pushed back by the large bull that had caught the Unicorn no less than three times that morning. Vargas didn't seem all too interested in what he had to say and simply shoved him further. A few other students voiced their agreement as they all wanted to rush the Minotaur and get inside to where their prize was waiting.

"The Queen's rules state that any Human at the peak of their season needs to be bred! It is a rule, you can't keep us away from her-!"

The Unicorn squealed as he was literally thrown by the Minotaur, landing safely in the nearby bushes despite his struggling. Some students were deterred by the strength of the Minotaur, knowing very well that the Bull was in charge of physical education for a reason. Most students didn't care. They could get by him if they all rushed him as there was no way he could stop them all.

As the student body became more and more stirred up, it became clear they were not going to back down. Several hisses, snarls, growls, barks, bays, and even a few whinnies could be heard from the increasingly angered group of students. All eyes were fixed on the building and Vargas knew he would have to call the other staff members to his aid if the students didn't give up soon.

"We should rush him."

Leona growled quietly to the various members of his pride standing around him, receiving several snarls of agreement as tensions began to rise. Of course the Lion wouldn't share with those who aided him, but he was certainly going to let them think he would if it meant he would get their help in storming the dorm. Even as the group slowly began to approach and encroach upon the dorm's boarders it became clear it would only take one student rushing forward for the others to follow suit. Legs tensed and eyes fixed on the building, it seemed apparent that everyone was keen to seize the prize within.

Before they could rush the Bull, dark clouds gathered overhead with such intensity those standing there knew it could only have one source; Malleus.

The Dragon flew in on dark leathery wings, his scaled hide glistening in the flashing green lightning overhead as several students rushed from the surrounding area. Most wore armor of some kind and all were wielding their Magestone weapons as they gathered. They were quick to join the side of their dorm leader who landed with a loud rumble in front of the dorm.

Surprisingly, the Dragon did not begin the siege upon the building but instead turned to hiss at the many students gathered around Ramshackle. The deep and rumbling voice of the Dragon thundered around, demanding silence and undivided attention. Most were frightened enough to not notice the Bat that tumbled gracefully from the back of the Dragon, sneaking into the building while attention was elsewhere.

"Stand down. Now."

"Fuck off, Lizard! You can't tell me you don't smell that. She's in there. Waiting."

"And she doesn't want visitors."

"You can't say for certain-"

"ENOUGH!"

The ground shook with immense force as the Dragon finally became angry enough to show his strength. Wind whipped around the beast and shoved the gathered group to the ground. Some fell back on their tails, some fell flat, some fell into a kneeling position.

The wind died down but the pressure did not and even the proudest of them knew they were facing an apex predator. There was a reason Malleus was feared. For many the Spelldrive was the first time any of them had seen Malleus in his full Draconic form and it had made absolute panic overcome them. Their second time seeing the true Dragon was no easier than the first.

"She wants to be left alone now. No one has the right to change that. It is her choice. Diasomnia will be guarding the entire building for as long as it takes. If you seek to challenge me, speak up."

~•§•~

The inside was quiet as everyone stared into the darkness forming in the sky. It would be foolish to not believe there was something to do with the Dragon and that alone was problematic enough. You were curled up under Divus' coat once more, holding Grim and Lucius.

Crowley finally got a seat next to you and for once you were thankful he was the closest to you. One of his midnight blue wings was held out over you, covering you as if to protect you from whatever was taking place outside. You had wondered what had happened to make the Dragon show up as the Staff were keen to keep you from looking outside.

"You know you aren't supposed to be here."

The low growl of the Selkie professor drew your attention and you were surprised to see Lilia standing there. A kind of look was in his eye but he shook it off quickly.

"(Y/n), I'm here just as a messenger. Malleus is aware of the growing mob outside and he wants to ensure none of them get in to bother you. He- and the rest of Diasomnia including myself- will be keeping guard outside until then to make sure none of them can get through."

"... Them?"

"There are many students outside, most that have gathered due to your scent and seek to be selected as your mate."

"Who the hell- you know what? Don't tell me. I genuinely don't want to know right now. Don't tell me who's out there. If- if that is what it takes for me to have some time to myself, then fine. He can guard outside all he wants."

Lilia stood, watching you for a moment before he spoke again, his voice much softer this time.

"(Y/n), I know this has been a lot for you. All of this. To go from a world with no magic to this one. To feel cut off from your home and your kin. Even being among us is so much for you to handle. Please continue to be patient with Malleus. Dragons are..."

Lilia chuckled softly, as if he just remembered something from his past that warmed his heart.

"Dragons are arrogant, stubborn, possessive, proud, and ever so lonely. Malleus is actually far more tame than any other Dragon I have met, but I think that's thanks to his Father. Raverne was always able to handle Maleanor better than I was. Still, that makes him no less isolated or lonely. Most of Malleus' friends were made because of his family and ties they had. You were his first true friend outside of that and I know he treasures that more than you may ever know. He is already quite devoted to his Hoard, which includes you."

Lilia smiled somewhat, still keeping his distance but clearly looking at you fondly. It made sense that Lilia would try to steer you towards being affectionate with Malleus and you understood he was one of your best bets for safety. Despite how overbearing the Dragon was, he was at least respecting your need for space.

"He is out there protecting you because of how much he values your comfort and wellbeing. Remember, if you need us- any of us- call and we will be there."

He only lingered for a moment longer before sliding back out, respecting your space and leaving after he finished what he needed to say. You sighed and glanced back at the dark swirling sky, knowing how fine the line you walked seemed to be.

~•§•~

The Bat emerged from the dorm undetected, slowly joining the ranks of the several Diasomnia students and standing among them.

Those that had tried to argue with Malleus had been defeated easily and now some attempted to appeal to the Dragon. Vil and Epel stood with Rook, who called out to the large beast.

"Crois-moi, Roi du Dragon, we simply mean to aid you! I admit, we got carried away at first, but we only seek to help. If I may, we would join your ranks!"

The Dragon considered the bold Drider for a moment, glowing green eyes gleaming in the darkness of the storm. It interested the larger beast to see the Drider still stood- albeit with great difficulty- and his appeal was intriguing. Something about the boldness of this interloper intrigued the nocturnal being.

"If you must. But your aid does not grant you three special rights, do you understand?"

"Oui. I am sure we understand with all our hearts."

The obsidian beast snorted softly in acceptance before he turned away and slid soundlessly through the grass despite his large form. His wings folded against his form as he lay just beyond the main entrance to the dorm as a clear guard and deterrent, daring anyone brave or dumb enough to approach.

A dark shadow of a creature with a regal horned crown atop his head curled dangerously. Even the foolish understand what a poor idea it would be to challenge such a beast.

Now it was a game of waiting, but the Dragon refused to yield.

[reverie-starlight]

{PR DAY ~ sakusa kiyoomi}

MSBY manager!reader my beloved <3

it’s PR Day for the jackals and you, their manager, have the day off. so why is your boyfriend trying so hard to convince you to go with him?

gn!reader, fluff, an attempt at humor, atsumu slander (as much as it pains me, it comes with the territory of writing a fic like this 😔) suggestive in some parts. not nsfw at all, but explicit language is used and one conversation surrounds that topic, so read at your own risk <3 also, intentional tense-switch in the beginning!!! and just like the first part, it’s not explicitly mentioned, but reader and atsumu have known each other since high school.

part 1 of the mini-series

managing MSBY came with its ups and downs.

on one hand, you wouldn’t have met your boyfriend if it weren’t for this job. and you've never laughed as hard as you have been these past three years with coworkers before meeting the current core line up of the jackals.

but on the other? you had three massive fully grown children under your care. four, technically, if they managed to annoy sakusa enough that he stoops to their level of childishness.

which was unfortunately very often.

…

nearly every week.

…

fine, basically everyday.

and ever since your relationship was revealed to the team nearly a year ago, the “trouble trio” had been behaving exactly like you expected them to. the whole team was slightly insufferable about it, sure, but atsumu, hinata and bokuto really took it to the next level.

so obviously you really valued your days off.

and today was the first day off you’ve had in months. you refused to take off days during the busiest weeks of the season, but today was a PR day.

interviews, promotional videos for the official social media accounts, a livestream or two- all things you were more than happy to leave in the hands of the team’s PR and social media managers.

the birds were singing, the sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window and a cool breeze could be felt against your skin. the day was calm and you were so excited to relax and do all the things you had planned.

but of course, your hopes are just that.

you see your boyfriend standing in the doorway of your bedroom, looking like he wants to say something. your heart lurches into your throat.

“soooo,” he starts, not looking directly at you as he moves to the bed and looks at his laid out clothes. you’re already shaking your head before he can say anything else. he ignores this and proceeds to betray you. “if you wanted to tag along today, you could or whatever.”

he’s shameless. he knows how much you’ve been looking forward to today.

“kiyoomi. love of my life. my darling. what the fuck?”

he lets out a snort and looks down at you semi-pleadingly- a rare sight. “I’ll buy you coffee on the way there.”

oh, he’s bargaining? you smirk. “aww, baby,” you stand up and make your way over to him, dramatically twirling and falling back into him with the back of your hand touching your forehead and the other pressed to your chest. “you just can’t bear to be apart from me, can you?”

the pleading look in his eye fades and he gives you a disgusted look you know he doesn’t mean. his arms stay wrapped around you so you don’t fall. “you wish.”

you shrug and move back to your chair, finishing up your morning routine. “hmm I guess I’ll stay here then.”

you enjoy the silence for a moment before he sighs. “fine, two coffees.”

a loud laugh leaves your mouth when he says that. your boyfriend would never put this performance on for anyone else. it was as close to begging as you’d ever get from sakusa kiyoomi.

you shake your head and sigh. “my love, you know I’ve been looking forward to my day off for so long. why are you so insistent about me going with you?”

suddenly he’s behind your chair and leaning down so his breath tickles your ear. “coffee and lunch and maybe when we get back I could be convinced to try that thing you were talking about…” the words are backed up by a kiss to your jaw and some pointed eye contact through the mirror.

you widen your eyes and search his expression for any trace of a lie.

none.

you cannot believe you’re letting him convince you into this, but the offer is far too good to pass up.

you pretend to mull it over, then meet his eyes in the mirror again. “make sure the trouble trio don’t try to coerce me into working and we have a deal.”

“well of course, I was going to yell at them if they tried anything like that anyway.”

“perfect, then let’s seal it with a kiss.”

“only a kiss, baby, I feel your hands wandering.” he pecks your lips quickly and pulls away before you can deepen it.

you pout. “can you blame me? you’ve got me all excited now.”

he shakes his head fondly and straightens up, moving to put the shirt his stylist had insisted upon for the upcoming interviews. you had to hand it to her- she knew exactly what she was doing.

you watch him with hawk eyes and he just turns his head to look at you in amusement. “stop staring at me and get ready, you perv, we have to leave soon.”

as soon as you step into the building where all the other jackals are, you’re bombarded with confused greetings.

“hey, I thought it was your day off?”

“ayy, manager’s here! good to see ya.”

“what are you doing here? you weren’t scheduled for today, were you?”

you sigh and sip your coffee, letting go of sakusa’s hand as you speak to the coach. “no, I wasn’t. I was kidnapped and brought here by one of your wing spikers.”

he chuckles and glances over at your boyfriend, who is looking up at the ceiling and avoiding eye contact. “I see. well, if anyone tries to get you to work today, just let me know and I’ll help sakusa put them in their places.”

you smile kindly. “thank you, sir, I appreciate it.”

as soon as he walks away, you’re surrounded by the three people you wanted to see least today.

a long sigh leaves your lips as atsumu, hinata and bokuto stare at you in wonder.

“just get it over with,” you grumble.

“how much do ya wanna bet he promised something outrageous?” atsumu.

“what, like an all expenses paid vacation?” hinata.

“no, it’s omi-omi, it wouldn’t make sense for him to take time off in the middle of game season.”

you roll your eyes at their back and forth and glance over at the man in question, who appears to be glowering. you can almost picture the scowl underneath his mask. “you’re all idiots,” he states.

“hey! I haven’t even said anything yet!” bokuto protests.

“yes, but I can practically hear the gears in your brain grinding.”

“I’ll bet it’s a sex thing,” atsumu interrupts just as bokuto is about to defend himself.

you all freeze and stare at him.

your boyfriend, deadly calm, says “miya, I will skin you alive.”

the blonde, who absolutely loves getting a rise out of sakusa, just smirks. “oh, so I’m right then?” he turns to you and slings an arm over your shoulder. “tell me, dear manager, what exactly did he have to agree to in order to get ya to show up on your day off?”

you flick his forehead and shake your head disapprovingly. “none of your business, you freak. just 'cause your dating life isn’t going too well right now doesn’t mean you can pry into mine. download tinder or something if you’re that bored.”

bokuto and hinata snicker at that, but straighten up quickly when he shoots them a glare. suddenly, meian stalks up behind the three of them and clears his throat.

“if you’re all done terrorizing our manager, our social media team is ready for us now. hurry up.” he nods at you with an apologetic smile and drags atsumu away from you. “sakusa, you too. we’ve been waiting for a while now.”

as soon as his teammates walk away and he’s sure they’re not watching him, he slumps a bit and you notice the tips of his ears have gone red. you smile at him in amusement and pat his cheek, the action only slightly awkward due to his mask.

“aw lighten up, kiyoomi, I’m used to dealing with atsumu by now. just ignore him, he wouldn’t dream of bringing that up again if he knows what’s good for him.”

he sighs and drops his shoulders, relief washing over him now that he knows you’re not regretting your decision to come with him. he slips off his mask and presses a quick kiss to your lips. “alright. I love you, just enjoy the show.”

you take his mask and walk with him to the rest of the group so that they can start with the promotional videos.

it’s fun to watch, honestly, because the team’s dynamic does work well for the cameras. they’re not even playing anything up.

you sit through the promo videos they need to film for upcoming games, the silly one-off fluff questions and the fan asks for their instagram page before they’re allowed a break.

sakusa stalks over to you with a small scowl and you smile. “you’re doing great, handsome.”

his expression softens a bit and he offers you a kiss on the forehead. “thank you, darling. care for some lunch?”

you nod and pull him out the door before a certain trio can invite themselves to the impromptu lunch date.

you walk in comfortable silence towards the building’s food court before something pops into your mind. “kiyoomi, you never answered my question from earlier.”

he hums in acknowledgment. “and what might that be?”

“why were you so insistent on me joining you today?”

he doesn’t answer for a moment, but you wait patiently. you know he’s not ignoring you.

finally he sighs and squeezes your hand. “I feel like we haven’t been spending much time together lately outside of work… and I was hoping that by bringing you with me today we’d be able to have at least some time together…” his voice is low, but he’s not shy about it.

you fiddle with the chain around your neck, one he bought for you a while back. "that's very sweet of you, kiyo."

"and..." he hesitates a bit, but you squeeze his hand in return to encourage him. "I feel more relaxed in front of the cameras when you're there."

you melt a little bit. "I'm happy I make you feel that way, kiyoomi. thank you for kidnapping me on my day off, I suppose."

he snorts and you smile. you're about to lean in to pull his mask down for a kiss, but you're interrupted. of course.

"hey, hey, hey! there you guys are! we saw you leaving so figured we'd get lunch with you!"

you honestly don't think you could ever be mad at bokuto, but he is seriously testing your patience right now. not far behind him are atsumu and hinata, one looking smug and the other a bit sheepish. one of them probably brought up your departure to bokuto, either on purpose or accidentally you'd never know.

you sigh and pat sakusa on the back. "yeah, come on. you're all paying for your own, though."

you both ignore the whines of the fully grown children behind you and continue walking hand in hand.

~~~~

BONUS:

"so this question is directed at sakusa..." atsumu reads the question silently and the team watches as he holds back a laugh.

you watch as your boyfriend narrows his eyes at the blonde in front of him and you sigh. things had been going so well up until now.

it’s past lunch break now, and their social media manager had just given them a box full of printed out tweets with fan questions to answer. she snickers to herself as if she knows which question it is and looks pointedly at you from behind the phone she’s recording on.

you blink in confusion, but everything is made clear when atsumu opens his mouth again.

“omi-omi, user @/kiyosdear wants to know if you’re single, or if you’re in need of a dog, because they’re more than willing to bark.”

the social media manager giggles, as does the rest of the team. you feel your eye twitch a bit, but you’re easily able to shove down any possession you feel in the moment.

it’s obviously impossible to ignore so many people vying for his attention all the time, but sometimes it could be a little funny to see how flustered your boyfriend could become from the unwanted attention.

you smile at the small scowl that forms. “no thank you. I’d want nothing less.”

atsumu snorts at his curt answer and hands the box to him. sakusa picks out a question and reads it to himself before blushing furiously and turning his face away from the camera. you watch curiously as meian looks over his shoulder to see what could have garnered that reaction from him and his eyes trail to you amusedly.

the social media manager looks like she’s having a field day, zooming in on sakusa’s red face for a moment. it’s not often something flusters him that badly after all. she’ll milk it for all it’s worth.

the captain pries the paper out of your boyfriend’s hand and reads it out loud.

“@/msby_luvr asks, yo @/sakusakiyoomi, is your team's manager single? totally unrelated, @/msbymanager, are you free on thursday?"”

it’s not exactly a secret to the public that there’s something going on between you two, they just don’t know what that something is.

of course neither of you ever confirm or deny anything, but you imagine being asked outright like that is what caught him off guard.

the camera cuts to you, “offstage” laughing at the question and shaking your head a little in amusement.

or maybe he’s not shy, but rather jealous?

that’s kind of sweet.

regardless, you speak up for him, knowing he wouldn't answer. "I am not single, but thanks for asking."

the camera pans back to the team, just in time to catch the tail end of atsumu clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder.

sakusa gives you a small smile, clearly relieved you took over for him, and goes back to focusing on the interview.

hinata, the poor thing, reads the next question. “oh boy… @/msbymanager asks, sakusa and atsumu rivals to lovers arc when?”

you cackle as both men whip their heads in your direction, betrayal and incredulity on their faces.

raising your hands, you said to them “in my defence, I was still miffed about being dragged here on my day off when I sent it in!”

atsumu loudly refuted the question and the jeers from his teammates, but that was all drowned out by the look your boyfriend sent your way.

you sighed. you were really in for it later.

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

I’ll 100% be doing more MSBY manager!reader. and I’ll do more PR scenarios as well, bc as much fun as this was to write, it didn’t have as much as I wanted to include. but I’ll have to do more research. thank you for reading!! and happy birthday sakusa <3

tags: @dira333 (ty for inspiring me to turn it into a mini-series) @emmyrosee (Ik you love Sakusa and you wanted the WIP for this a long time ago)

[woso-story]

The Weigth Of Love And Loss - Part Seven

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One Two Three Four Five Six Eight Last Part

It had been eight months since you last saw Alexia. Eight long months that, at first, felt like wading through molasses, each day dragging painfully into the next. But as time passed, things got easier. You found a rhythm, a new normal, and bit by bit, the ache of separation dulled.

You had come to terms with everything. What happened between you and Alexia was bittersweet—a beautiful love that, somewhere along the line, fell apart. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really. You’d both tried your best. It just wasn’t enough.

And now, here you were, living your life again. A full life, a good life. You had your work, your little apartment near the park, and your constant companion, Mylo. The tiny Maltese filled your home with energy, his little barks and happy wiggles a constant reminder that joy could be found in the simplest of things.

Sometimes, in quiet moments, Alexia still crossed your mind. The memories weren’t as sharp anymore, not the way they used to cut deep. Now, they felt warm, like the distant glow of a sunset. You were glad to have had her in your life, even if it was only for a time.

You’d even ventured back into the dating world. It wasn’t anything serious—just a few dinners, some coffee dates. Enough to remind yourself that there were other people out there, that you could laugh and flirt and feel something again. And yet, every time someone leaned in close, their eyes bright with hope, you’d find yourself pulling back.

You told yourself it was just a matter of time.

---

It was a warm, golden afternoon, the kind that made you feel like everything was right in the world. You had laid out a blanket in your favorite spot at the park, a shady patch beneath an old oak tree. A book rested in your hands, though you weren’t reading as much as enjoying the sound of birds chirping and the occasional burst of laughter from nearby families.

Mylo was at your side, his little body sprawled out with his favorite toy between his paws—a rubber bone that squeaked loudly every time he bit down.

The moment was perfect. Peaceful.

Until the football hit your side.

Startled, you sat up, your book tumbling onto the blanket as Mylo shot to his feet, barking wildly at the unexpected intrusion. You blinked, disoriented, and spotted a ball rolling to a stop near your feet.

Then, a voice called out, hesitant and apologetic:

“Sorry!”

You turned toward the sound, squinting against the sunlight that filtered through the tree branches. And then you saw her.

Alexia.

She was standing a few feet away, her silhouette framed by the sun, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She wore a simple t-shirt and athletic shorts, her cheeks flushed from exertion. But it was her expression that made your heart stop—the wide eyes, the slightly parted lips, the look of someone who couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing.

It had been eight months since you last saw her in person, and yet here she was, as if she had stepped straight out of your memories.

You froze, unable to speak, unable to move.

---

Mylo, oblivious to the tension in the air, bounded toward the ball with his tail wagging furiously. He grabbed it with his tiny teeth, shaking it as if it were his prized possession.

“No, Mylo,” you said, your voice shaky as you reached out to take the ball from him.

You stood, brushing off your shorts, and held the ball out for Alexia.

She took a step forward, her hand reaching out to take it, but she paused, her fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment.

“Sorry about that,” she said softly, her voice carrying that familiar warmth that you hadn’t heard in so long.

“It’s okay,” you replied, managing a small smile despite the whirlwind of emotions crashing over you.

You stood there, just inches apart, and for a moment, the rest of the park seemed to fade away. The distant laughter, the rustling leaves, even the gentle tug of the breeze—it all disappeared.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved. You just looked at each other, the weight of eight months hanging in the air between you.

---

Mylo, sensing a potential new friend, began jumping at Alexia’s legs, barking happily. She looked down, a soft smile spreading across her face as she crouched to pet him.

“He’s yours?” she asked, scratching behind his ears.

“Yeah. His name’s Mylo,” you said, watching her with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“He’s adorable,” she said, her voice tinged with genuine affection.

Before either of you could say more, another voice broke the moment.

“Ale!”

You turned to see Mapi jogging toward you, her expression shifting from confusion to surprise as she realized who Alexia was talking to.

“Hey,” you said, offering Mapi a polite smile.

“Hey,” Mapi replied, her tone cautious but friendly. “Long time no see. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you said simply, not trusting yourself to say more.

The moment felt awkward, as though the universe had collided in a way it wasn’t supposed to.

“We have training,” Mapi reminded Alexia, glancing between the two of you.

Alexia nodded, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned to leave with Mapi.

“It was good to see you,” she said softly, her voice laced with something you couldn’t quite name.

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

---

You were just settling back onto the blanket, trying to process what had just happened, when you heard footsteps approaching again.

You looked up, surprised to see Alexia standing there once more.

“Would you want to have dinner with me sometime?” she asked, her voice hesitant but steady. “Just to talk. Catch up.”

Your heart raced. You hesitated, unsure if it was the right decision, but then you nodded.

“Sure,” you said. “Just text me. I still have the same number.”

Alexia smiled, a small but genuine smile, and nodded. “Okay. I will.”

As she walked away, you sank back onto the blanket, Mylo climbing into your lap with a concerned little whine. You stroked his fur, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

You thought you were over her. You thought you had moved on. But now, you weren’t so sure.

And Alexia? As she walked away with Mapi, her thoughts were just as chaotic. She had convinced herself that it was over, that she had moved on. But seeing you had stirred something deep inside her, something she hadn’t felt in months.

For both of you, the question lingered: Was it really over?

Neither of you had the answer, but for the first time in months, there was a flicker of hope. Dinner couldn’t come soon enough.

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

There will be a final part. But, I don't know exactly how the story is going to end. Either there will be a big talk and a final goodbye or they will get back together and have their happily ever after. Not sure yet. What do you want?

[writing-whenever-whatever]

Little song bird - as our future empress 

Emperor geta x emperor Caracalla x reader 

Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Summary: After the romans invade your home you’re father sets up an alliance with the twin emperors they will marry you and gain the land and titles to your name once your father has past little did you know how much you’d enjoy Rome 

Warning: Threats, no smut in this part sorry xx , arranged marriage not proof read 

———————————————————————

After Caracalla and geta took the role of emperor after the death of their father there was no surprise to the sudden change in Rome. 

Geta wanted success and victory he wanted to win every battle his army fought without thinking of the consequences, while his brother Caracalla wanted what rome would describe as chaos but he would call it happiness. While both boys lusted over the blood shed of the coliseum and hated the time spent with the boring men of the senate, who blabbered on and on about the importance of the peoples support, as if both boys were ignorant. 

 if there was one thing to know about the emperors it was that they may be young but they aren’t foolish. They know what the people wanted, they wanted Rome to be successful and to do that that meant war, many of the lower class despised the emperors love for violence but little did they know how necessary it was to protect everyone in the Roman Empire from harm. 

———————————————————————

For the last month my home has been  invaded by Romans innocent people are being slaughtered like rats in the streets their families left weeping over their corpses. Finally my father had had enough. my father, the leader of our land , took the responsibility to meet with the general Acacius to negotiate. they sit at a round table facing each other as I sit next to my father a little behind him, silently as the men speak picking at the bowl of fruit that was placed between them trying to be as civil as possible. 

“ general Acacius I wish to request an alliance to stop this invasion and to prevent further tragedy” my father places his elbows on the table resting his head in his hands “ an alliance?“ the general scoffs looking my father up and down “ and what do you have to give the emperors Geta and Caracalla that they do not already have“ he raises his eye brow trying not to laugh “ I wish to present my daughter to them” 

I look up at him my mouth opening slightly as if I want to protest yet as I lean forward to speak my father glares at me a cruil look spreading across his face “ and what would the emperors do with your daughter they have enough whores around the palace as it is “ the general says smugly taking in the expression on my face “ not as a whore general, as a wife” he leans back resting his hand ontop of mine as the general stares at me “ what qualities does your daughter hold that will benefit the Roman Empire” he sits up looking at us more intently “ she is my only blood and when I pass my titles will pass down to the man who marries her” he looks at me running his thumb over the back of my hand a smile on his face as the general stands “very well, we shall bring your daughter to Rome” he smirks looking at me as he walks over holding his arm out for me to take I push it away standing up on my own “ I do not need your help to stand general I have legs” I look up at him smiling sarcastically 

“ have your servants pack her things, then we’ll be on our way. it’ll take several days to travel to Rome so it’s best we leave as soon as possible “ he looks at my father as he nods then turning back to me his voice rough and stern“ say your goodbyes” I bend down placing a kiss on my fathers cheek whispering in his ear as I hug him “ you shall be damned in hell for what you’ve done to me” his face falls to a concerned look as I stand back up giggling as I walk away through the doors and to the chariot waiting outside. 

As I sit in the chariot waiting the general comes and joins me “ don’t you have anyone else to say goodbye to “ he asks his voice gentler than before “ no. I have no friends, no siblings, no mother. tis just I and father” he leans forward resting his calloused hands on mine I pull back slightly scowling “ do you not want to spend more time with him to say goodbye “ I shake my head “ why would I want to do that I’ve spent 17 years with that man and he’s been nothing but hateful.” He looks at me shocked as I sit back in my seat staring out the window . “this is the last straw he has damed me ” the general shakes his head his eyes soft and caring as he looks at me as if I’m his own daughter “ why do you think that? Rome can be a place of growth “ I smile baring sharp teeth as a chuckle escapes my lips “ do not lie to me general. I have heard of your emperors ” he sighs looking at me “ I know you do not deserve this. but this can lead to great opportunities for you, you’ll be powerfully by their side” I look down as my bags are packed into the chariot “ I won’t believe you till it happens “ i turn to look out the window again as the chariot finally starts moving I watch as my home slowly moves further into the distance. 

———————————————————————

Days pass and I’ve been sat uncomfortably in the chariot the whole journey I have my head rested against the window as I sleep peacefully. The chariot suddenly pulls to a violent halt causing me to fall forward out my seat I wake up sitting up on the floor my hear messy in my face as I sit up holding my head “ welcome to Rome” general Acacius smiles at me as I move back into my seat “ you could have woken me” I grumble running my hands though my hair pushing it behind my ear as the doors of the chariot opens. 

 the light beaming through the door the general walks out holding out his arm for me I take it holding onto it for support as we exit. seeing the streets of Rome for the first time is overwhelming hearing the cheers of the people and the buildings that tower over everything I stare around completely stunned as I hold onto Acacius arm tighter he pulls us forward walking towards the steps to a large temple like building where millions of guards stand holding swords and weapons ready to defend as two pale men stand together grinning down at us as we start to draw closer, children run up to the general throwing rose petals at his feet I sigh holding his arm tighter “ are things always like this” I ask raising my eyebrow as he nods his head at me his lips making a thin line as we get closer. 

 As we finally reach the top of the steps both emperors stare down at me with a predatory look in thier eyes I look up at them bowing slightly ” it is great to be in your presence emperors “ I rise myself up looking up at them “we hope your journey wasn’t to uncomfortable and wish to welcome you to Rome” geta says a smile smeared across his face as he holds out an arm to me, I take it my grip gentle as Caracalla takes my other arm. They turn and start to walk into thier home holding me between them as if I’m already theirs “ we hear that your father wishes you to marry us do we hear correct” Caracalla questions me his golden tooth twinkling in the sun as his lips curl up “ you have heard right emperor, my father wishes for an alliance to stop the war and give you both a claim to our titles “ I look up at them both they both seem glossed over as if under some sort of spell “ you are quite the beauty, for a lady from such a savage place” geta  pulls me out of his brothers grip twirling me around taking in every inch of my figure.

 I watch as both brothers exchanged a predatory look as I stumbled slightly going dizzy Caracalla catches me holding me up “ don’t fall silly we would want you to get hurt” he chuckles as I look up at him “ thank you emperor” my face flushed from embarrassment. As I get stable on my feet again I turn around looking at Caracalla smiling sweetly at him “ from what I’ve seen from Rome it’s incredible “ get tilts his head “ you’ve seen very little of Rome yet you’re already fascinated by it” he chuckles looking at me “ brother we should take her to watch the Colosseum” his eyes appear darker as Geta walks over to him whispering into his ear through gritted teeth. “ it can wait till we are married we don’t want to scare her off” Caracalla pulls away from his brother nodding looking down slightly less confident with himself as I look over at them smiling sweetly. 

“ you must be exhausted “ geta rests his hand on my shoulder “ we shall get someone to draw you a bath then escort you to your room to rest we have a dinner arrangement tonight to celebrate your arrival in Rome and our marriage arrangement” he smiles down at me as I nod “ thank you emperors you are both too kind” a smug look crosses their faces as a servant rushes over whispering something into getas ear that causes his hands to form fists “ we must go something needs our attention, we shall leave you in the care of this servant “ I nod bowing slightly as they walk away. 

I look at the servant a small smile on my face not realising the fact  they refuse to make eye contact with me “ come along my lady, I shall assist you in your bathing” she guides me towards a large room full of baths of steaming water I look down into the bubbly water as the servant helps takes off my clothes “ how long have you worked for the emperors” I ask curiously trying to initiate conversation, but this only seems to make her more anxious, her breath  halts as she final looks up at me her eyes full of terror “ I-i was born here, i-i s-started serving at the age of 12” I sit on the edge of the bath listening splashing the water with my feet a teasing smile on my face as I look up at here “ you seem frightened” I giggle laying my head back on the cold mosaic tiles that decorate the floor my hair sprawling out like a hallo 

“ the emperors are strict with what they want you to know” she stammers her hands trembling “ there’s no need to be frightened “ I reach my hand out resting it on hers gently she goes quiet as she looks at me she leans in her voice a whisper “ my lady you must be careful here, keep them happy. I fear what will happen other wise” my eyes widen at her suddenly statement “I will do what I want if that will be a problem they can tell me their selves” I snap finally sinking the rest of my body into the hot bath. The rest of the time I spend scilently ignoring the servant who stands watching me scrub my skin with sweet smelling oils cleaning away the dirt of my journey. 

Once I’ve finished cleaning myself I sink under the water letting my head fall under  small bubbles escape up to the surface from my nose and mouth as I open my eyes letting the water flow around me i suddenly here a splash as someone jumps in pulling me up to the surface I blink a few times coughing as a guard comes into my vision “ I was perfectly fine sir “ I grumble wiping the water out of my eyes as I cough “ what were you trying to do drown yourself “ he glares down at me his armour soaked I look up at him a small smirk climbing onto my face “ more like trying to drown out my thoughts “ he lifts me to the side of the bath sitting me there as he climbs out “ sounds like the same thing to me” he wraps a towel around my shoulders 

as the servant comes closer to me trying to dry me off I push her away standing up “ I can do it my self I do not need the help from someone who sees me as weak” I glare at her drying my body off quickly and platting my hair into a long braid “ my lady please let me assist you the emperors instructed me to help” she begs as she gets closer to me again her hands reached out to try to take the towel “ I said no do not touch me or I’ll scream” as I wrap the towel around me I stand up “ you may assist me by either getting me clothes or taking me to my room that is all” she looks at me nodding as she rushes off to get me something to wear. 

I sit back down my feet sitting in the water again as I take a deep breath calming myself as I rest my head in my hands “ does she offend you my lady” the guard asks sitting next to me I look up at him shaking my head “ I’m just exhausted and I’m extremely tired of being lectured like a child” I look up as she comes back with a deep blue and gold tunic that goes down to the floor my eyes light up slightly as I get up “ this is beautiful “ I run my hand over the expressive silk “ I’m glad you like it my lady emperor Geta chose it himself for you” the servant looks at me nervous as she talks “ I love it “ I smile as I slip it on it drapes over my figure perfectly fitting my body beautifully “ they agreed if Geta chose the outfit Caracalla would do the jewellery” she adds “ but if you wish to rest for now they can wait “ I shake my head “ no no I must see it now “ I smile more my teeth grinning together “ very well my lady come along” I follow her the long tunic dragging along the floor behind me as we make our way towards the bed quarters.

We enter a large room with extreme decorative elements across the room, gold draped across the walls and furniture as I look around excitement fills me more “ this will be your bed quarters my lady” she looks over at me “ I hope it’s to your liking “ I nod feeling speechless as I sit in the edge of the sofa taking it all in. 

The door suddenly swings open and both emperors walk in “ ah there you are” Geta smiles as he gets closers seeing me in the extravagant outfit he chose “ and don’t you look gorgeous “ he takes in how the clothes hugs my figure then turning to his brother a smug expression on his face “ where’s her jewellery “ Caracalla snaps looking at the servant “ I told you what jewellery I wanted on her” he glares “ she was just about to put some in me, we got caught up in chatting tis all” I smile sweetly as his hash expression fades away turning soft as he looks at me. 

The servant picks up the extravagant gold jewellery scattered in sapphires to match the blue dress I gasp looking at it “ this is beautiful emperor Caracalla “ he looks at his brother sticking his tongue out childishly as he moves to sit next to me on the bed “ it was chosen specifically for you my love” I blush violently as I look at him “ you both seem to know me so well already” I giggle looking in the mirror as the necklace is fastened around my neck bangles wrapped around my wrists and rings placed on every finger “ you both spoil me so” I look at them both “ you deserve it as our empress to be” Geta rests his hand on top of mine his touch surprisingly gentle as if he’s scared I’d break beneath his hand. 

“ we wanted to inform you we’re having a dinner party tonight with some friends and some members of the senate “ Caracalla looks at me smile “ we wanted it to be an opportunity for you to meet some people “ geta strokes the back of my hand gently “ that’s will be quite lovely” I look up at them “ I shall try to be on my best behaviour “ I giggle slightly watching as the brothers look at each other “ we can’t really promise you the same thing” geta chuckles “there’s no need to be behaved you’re our future wife and thier future empress you can do as you please” Caracalla smirks as he runs his hand up my thigh “ with in reason of course “ geta interrupts his brother “ i understand my emperors “ i pull a loose blanket off the back of the sofa pulling it around my shoulders “ would it be alright if i rest a little before the dinner party” i look at them smiling softly a tired look glazing over my eyes “ of course its best you have my energy for our guests “ Geta smiles softly running his hand over my soft flushed cheek “ we will have someone wake you in time” Caracalla adds looking at me as he stands up “ sleep well empress” they smile leaving me in the room as they close the door 

[bucksboobs]

On their way to a fire, Buck opens his big mouth and says something very stupid. Not an unusual occurrence but this one is unique: “Hey, Hen? Can I ask you a gay people question?”

Hen side-eyes him. “Are you sure now’s the best time?” The engine shakes on its suspension.

Buck blusters forward. “So Tommy and I have been dating a month and a half now.” The mention of Tommy grabs both Chim and Eddie’s attention.

“Wait, really?” Chim asks, Hen’s not sure if he thought it was shorter or longer than that. His memory of time seems to be the worst hit by the encephalitis.

“2 months next Thursday.” Eddie says.

“Y-yeah… that’s right.” Buck raises his eyebrows at Eddie. The rest all stare, Hen included. Those two have always been locked at the hip but knowing each other’s anniversaries seems excessive. Buck seems to agree.

“How do you know that?” She asks.

“Their first date was the same day I asked Marisol to move in with me.”

“When did Marisol move in with you?” Hen and Chimney ask in unison. Last she heard about Marisol she had only just met Chris, moving in seemed a long way off for them. Since when was she living with him?

“She didn’t” Bobby answers, giving his sternest glare to the rear view mirror. Hen knows this means she’s in charge of keeping these fools in check so he can focus on driving.

“Yeah we decided against that. Anyway Buck you were talking about Tommy?” Hen stifles a laugh. There was a story there she was going to have to wring out of Bobby because Eddie’s deflection abilities are legendary.

“Yeah so- um- ho-how long before we can uh…”Hen cocks her head. What exactly is Buck after with Tommy right now, they’re not nearly to the point of I love yous and she doesn’t think Buck would be this nervous about dating advice. “I mean how long did you and Karen wait until you, uh” Oh.

“Had sex?” Hen asks bluntly.

“Whoa, you and Tommy haven’t had sex yet?” Chimney asks, astonished.

“Buck when’s the last time you waited this long with anyone?” Eddie asks with a cocked eyebrow.

“Never? Maybe high school?” That tracks.

“Or Abby.” Chim offers. Buck winces at that. She knows that woman did him dirty, looks like the scar still aches.

“Six minutes to ETA.” Comes from the drivers seat. “5 and a half…” Bobby takes a sharp turn that shakes the whole truck. “5 minutes.”

“So how do I ask him to fuck me.”

A chorus of “BUCK!” rings through the truck. Eddie looks petrified at the idea of his best friends having sex with each other, Chim looks exhausted with his brother-in-law of barely a month and look, Hen would give the world to see this kid happy but sometimes he’s just too stupid for his own good.

“Buck. I think you need to remember Tommy doesn’t have a lot of experience in this area either.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Did you forget he’s only been out as long as you’ve been at the 118?” Hen learned that about Tommy from Buck’s gushing the day after the wedding. She’d also talked to him in a fluorescent lit waiting room after the most gorgeous hospital ceremony she’s ever been a part of, so she’s aware that he’s not used to being with men that want more than just sex from him. “He might think you’re just as nervous as he is.”

“I didn’t know he got nervous.”

Chim huffs at that. “Next time you see him ask him to tell you a story about a rooster.” That makes Hen smile.

“He probably won’t believe you’re ready until you can talk to him about it.”

“I don’t— I-it usually just kind of happens. You get a look, there’s a nod, they look at your lips and lean in…”

“Yeah but that was women who knew what they wanted and what you wanted. Tommy won’t know unless you tell him what you’re ready for.”

“So to get him to fuck me I have to tell him to fuck me?”

“Jesus, Buck. Yes.” Hen laughs. They are, thankfully, finally pulling to site so she doesn’t have to enumerate exactly how he needs to ask. If she did she’d have to explain birds and bees that she is not the best person to explain.

“Come on, kids, let’s save some lives.” Bobby calls as he pulls the parking break.

The fire looks pretty bad, two story house, they’ll have to split up by floor. As they gear up Buck says, privately, off-mic. “Thanks Hen, you’re a good Gay Yoda”

“Do him or do not, there is no try.”

[rav1377]

Oh Please!

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x fem!reader

tw:smut(when is it not), uhhh riding, piv, slight restrictions(it’s a belt), erm…smut?

p4 of the But Sir! series (in masterpost)

it’d been a seriously long morning. your boys weren’t exactly the problem, but they sorta were part of it. you’d spilt coffee on your shirt that morning, and it made you late to base. the gate guards had been a little too flirty, making some borderline inappropriate comments. you’d run into a soldier holding his morning coffee, and it spilt all over your blouse. that made everyone look at you weird as you practically stomped to your office. one recruit even had the nerve to ask if you needed help cleaning up, winking at you. then, none of the reports that you needed from your boys were completed, and you needed them today to finish your quarterly report to the bases Lt. Col. over all, you were ready to bash some heads.

a head poked through the hallway and peered at your doing your work, all grouchy looking with a stained blouse. you glared at the man who stepped in, until he produced a thick stack of papers. “thanks, Kyle.” you say, taking them from his hands. “anytime.” he smiles his cheshire but it fades when he sees your face. “uh oh. you don’t look too happy. closed door talk?” he looks at you questioningly, hand on your office door. you nod, slumping into your desk. Kyle shuts it and sits on the couch behind your desk, the one he’d help pick out and move into your office. “so what’s wrong.” it’s not a question, more a subtle demand to get you to open up. still glued to your desk, you vent about everything that had bothered you today, a whiny tone slipping in. he pouts right along with you, making all the right commentary.

you don’t need to know he’s going to make the gate guards scrub the floors for a month, or take away that recruits weekend passes. that’s all normal! you wish you could just go home and take a nap at this point, too tired to do anything else. “well, come take a nap now, ‘s not like you’re doing anything.” Kyle says, patting his thigh. you shake your pretty head. “I can’t, this report is due tomorrow!” you cry, facing him. “well what are you missing?” he asks, leaning forward, tucking his chin on his hand. “not much…just the other guys’s base reports.” Kyle scowls. they know they were supposed to get those to you. “I’ll make sure they get them to you doll, come rest.” you nod slowly, rising up from your position at your desk to one hesitantly sinking down on his lap. the cogs in your little head start turning, thinking over what’s happened over the last month.

“did you guys plan this?” you whisper. Kyle looks down at you, waiting for you to finish your thoughts. “i’ve ended up sleeping with all of you at one point or another. well, present company excluded.” you look up at him bashfully and he grins. “want to change that?” he says playfully. you continue, “im not completely stupid…John’s messed up report from Las Almas, the convenient elevator fiasco with Simon, and the boxing ring with Johnny…you’ve all been behind the scenes, haven’t you?” your voice is barely above a whisper. “mm. you passing out with Soap was just playing funny though. but yes, it was planned.” he smiles, brushing back fly away hairs. you pout, “i knew it! and that wasn’t funny.” he huffs through his nose. “you’re our bird, our little secretary, you thought we didn’t pick up on the looks you gave us?” you look away. “no…thought i was being sneaky.” you say, messing with Kyle’s button up. “hm, itching for me that bad, huh?” you look down a little bashfully. “you’re the only one who hasn’t had a go.”

he smiles, undoing the side zipper on your skirt to give you more flexibility, preening at the discovery of you not wearing knickers. your fingers trail down to his cargo, making quick work of the buttons. Kyle’s dark eyes gaze at you lustfully before moving to fist your hair, pressing his forehead to yours. he’s not quite hard yet, but he’s getting there, your hands palming him roughly as you grind on his thigh. he lets out a small groan, kissing your nose. you giggle and pull him out completely before sinking down to the floor with him still in your hand. “oh-jeez-yes.” he murmurs, head tossed back as you push him into your mouth. you hum around him in what sounds like a chuckle. you fill your mouth around him with spit, and throughly coat him before pulling off. you stand up before he pulls your back on his thighs, and his fingers wander to your own wetness, spreading it around. “got one request for you love. you ride me. and you do it facing that door.” you mewl and nod, gasping as he pinches your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. “oh please! i’ll do it! please please!” he nods approvingly before completely stilling. you let out a frustrated groan, hands on his chest. “no! why’d you stop?!” you whine. “I think you better get to it then.” he says sharply, giving you a hard look. you look at him like he’s just stabbed you through the heart. “wow.” you sniffle. “you’re mean on the inside.” you say, pressing a sloppy kiss to the underside of his jaw. “please, Kyle, can i have just one?” his restraint weakens just a bit and his fingers twitch as you still try to grind on them. “you want something, you work for it.” and with that, he withdraws his hand.

whining, you stand up of off him and face the door, bending over. he guides your hips down and makes sure to line up properly before sinking you down completely, talking you through it. you pant when you’re fully seated, gripping his hands. “aw, too much doll?” he teases, nipping at your ear. nodding, you begin to bounce on him, moaning with every thrust that he pushes inward. you feel the couch move slightly, but Kyle doesn’t seem to care, opting to yank your head back, causing you to arch on him, exposing your neck. sloppy, wet kisses get pressed to the side, starting right beneath your ear. at this point, he may as well be licking you. “ah! ah! Kyle please, need more!” you cry out, trying to reach your clit. as soon as you get some relief, he yanks your hand away, and pins it behind your back before grabbing the other. one hand reaches down from you hair and yanks off his belt completely, and wraps it around your wrists, tying it off. your arms are now completely restrained and snug in between the two of you. at least he’s getting the one sensitive spot in your that leaves you pleased. your clit is throbbing though, begging for attention. “good girls use their manners” he growls, sucking on the other side of your neck. “nmph-please Kyle. touch me, i need it. please.” you beg and he relents, brining his fingers down.

you sigh happily, feeling them down your happy trail and to your bush. he gives a harsh tug on the hair there and you sob. “you’re so mean, Kyle! jus’ wanna come!” you’re trying to not cry, but your words are becoming more and more slurred. “aw, go on and cry f’me, go dumb on my cock. you did it so well for Johnny.” he laughs as tears spill over, and your words are unintelligible with each thrust. you’re bouncing on him spastically at this point, and buck back and forward, trying to get stimulation on your clit. “alright alright. i’ll let you have it.” he murmurs and you gasp as his fingers rub you finally. “mmm-thankyouthankyouthankyou” words spew from your mouth now as you bounce harder on him, trying to please him as well. “well, okay, slow down, don’t wanna rush yourself.” he grits out, trying to slow your hips, but you don’t. the quick thrusts and his fingers rub movements have the coil in your stomach snapping, and you throw your head back against his shoulder mewling. as you clench down on him, his own orgasm is quick and sudden. he frantically bucks into you a few last times before he comes, your juices mixing together. you’re still stiff, riding out the high, and the aftershocks make him gasp with sensitivity. he’s nipping at the expanse of your back now, pressing little kisses as you come down from your high. he unclasps the belt from your hands and you moan and the pressure release.

“so good, they weren’t lying.” he says, pulling you off of him and laying you on the couch. “i did good?” you slur out, sweat sheen on your face. he bites out a laugh. “so good.” he presses kisses to both your eyelids and watches them flutter shut, his heart panging as you drift off. he zips up your skirt again and straightens your poor coffee stained blouse, but leaves his spend dripping out of you. he lays a plush throw blanket over you and lets you rest, watching you for a moment before working over himself. he thought you were going to cut off circulation to his cock there for a few minutes. he puts on his belt again though and stands, looking at your desk. time to go yell at the other boys for not doing their work, making you all stressed out. you don’t deserve that! that’s not your job after all, you’re just supposed to please them, ease their pain.

[im-on-fire-today]

Dream with me

It had been a hard day, and all Lucanis wanted to do was climb into bed and have Rook lull him to sleep with sweet kisses and soothing words. Spite hissed in the back of his mind that he should just let Caterina and Illario solve their own problems, but he had to remind the demon thst being a Talon meant it was his problem now.

As he walked into the bedroom he was surprised to see Rook already fast asleep in her spot. Usually she would wait for him, especially considering they hadn't been able to eat dinner together earlier. He couldn't be mad though, she worked hard, and he couldn't expect her to stay awake for him every night. Even if it would have made his day feel less miserable.

Changing out of his clothes, he climbed into bed and moved till he was laying against Rook. Her back pressed to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her, holding her against him. He knew she wouldn't mind, and if he couldn't have her sweet words, this was comfort enough for him as he felt himself drift to sleep.

----

Lucanis knew he was dreaming, but he knew this wasn't a normal dream. It was like when he would find himself trapped in his mental prison, but this time it was barren. Nothing but the flow of fade around him as he walked around, looking to see what had drawn him here. Soon the space around him change to the familiar view of Treviso's rooftops, and there alone sitting by the edge was someone he would never be able to mistake for another. Rook.

Walking over he wondered if she was real, or just a figment of his imagination. It wouldn't be the first time, but as he placed a hand on her shoulder she jumped in surprise like she hadn't been expecting him. Usually when anyone appeared in his dreams, they always knew he was there.

"Oh it's just you Lucanis. Figures my mind would put you in it." She softly said, her voice tired as she looked off into the distance.

Did she not think he was real? Was she in his dreams again, like when Spite had first pulled her in all those months ago? When he realized he hadn't seen Spite at all, he noticed a peculiar purple bird hopping across the ledge, it's bright purple eyes telling him all he had to know.

"Rook, it's me. I think Spite pulled our dreams together." He explained as he sat next to her. The Look she gave one of surprise, but quickly disappeared as Spite flew up to them, still in that bird like form he had made. It wasn't quite correct in proportions, but he had to give it to the spirit for the attempt.

Rook blinked at Spite for a moment before reaching forward to scratch him under his chin. "Such a silly bird you are. What did you do it for this time?" She asked, Spite cocking his head before hopping backwards and changing into the form Lucanis knew him better in, an almost mirrored image of himself.

"Both not happy. So I pulled you both together. Happier here, and not in real world." He huffed, looking between him and Rook. "I can do anything here. Been practicing."

"Have you Spite?" Rook smiled, before leaning over to Spite to whisper to him, and Lucanis strained to hear what she was saying. When she finished Spite grinned and took her hand, pulling her up.

Lucanis watched as the fade around them shift, turning into the cathedral that he and Rook had gotten married in. As he looked back to her, his breath caught in his throat. She was wearing her wedding dress again, but under the effect of the fade each crystal that had been sewn in sparkled like stars in the night sky. Her hand extended forward, taking his as his own outfit shifted around him, turning into the suit he had worn.

"I figured if we wanted to be happy, we might as well go with the happiest night of our life. Minus the family drama this time." She smiled, and he realized it was just the two of them, well them and Spite. The spirit donning an outfit close to his, but not quite, almost like he couldn't, or he wanted his own version.

Taking the hint, he began the steps of the dance they had done on their wedding night. There was no music, but he didn't need it to know each beat to turn on. Rook giggling in his hold as they spun around the dance floor, their bodies only inches from each other as they had their fun.

"This will always be my favorite memory, but every moment with you is filled with joy for me." He smiled, halting their dance as he pulled her in for a kiss. "I have missed you my love."

Rook gave a soft tilt of her head before kissing him back. "I have missed you too. It feels like we never have time for each other with everything going on."

Lucanis shared her pain. Ever since they had been married, it felt like they barely had time to enjoy each other as they once had. He would change that though. He would make it so it was more than shared meals and stolen moments before bed. No more feeling like they were miles apart, even though they were in the same house.

"We will change the rules then. We should be able to have time for each other, and not at the whims of those around us. Starting tomorrow, that changes. I promise."

"I think that's the best thing I've heard all week. Now how about we enjoy our dream a little more. If that's alright with you, Spite?" Rook asked, sending a soft smile to the spirit.

"Only if I get to dance too." He replied, and Lucanis could only laugh as he let Rook go so she could appease his inner demon once again.

[etherealrin]

♬⋆.˚ intro: summer

warnings: none // wc: 724

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:00 TRACKLIST: next.

itoshi rin sighs as he clicks the post button, slumping back onto his bed. his obsidian black electric guitar lays neglected in the corner of his room, still hooked up to the amplifier. his headphones are still plugged into his dimly glowing computer, keyboard still connected, and around four unreleased tracks remained rotting in his files.

he had been looking forward to this break all year, finally out of school—where he could stay up late watching horror flicks with no plans for tomorrow. but rin wonders if he’ll be able to enjoy his three months of summer vacation at all, staring at the pitch darkness of midnight outside his open window. the constant buzzing from his phone, screen alight with thousands of confused replies, isn’t helping his worsening mood.

but he convinces himself it’s better this way, better for him to give up this useless little hobby now; he had more pressing matters to focus on. because that’s what sae had meant, what his words echoed before he left for spain, right?

“you should just quit. it won’t get you anywhere,” he’d said as he headed off for law school in spain.

hyprocite: the only word rin can think of to describe it all. wasn't he the one who encouraged me in the first place?

he manages to drift into a dreamless sleep, phone set to do not disturb, tossing and turning while the quiet june night passed on. it was calm and unperturbed, until a loud crash awoke him. the sound, coming from outside of rin’s house, was a screech of metallic cries. it was eerie, unsettling and only served to amplify his restlessness.

now awake, the soft breeze blowing through his room reminds rin that he had left his windows open, and really, he should close them before he catches a cold. so he pulls back the flimsy black blinds, and his heart drops at the scene he’s greeted with.

it’s haunting yet beautiful; you’re crouched over the sidewalk, illuminated by the pale moonlight, you look like a ghost from his past. the way your fingers trace over the broken electric guitar, a tear slipping down your cheek, you remind rin of how he used to be.

rin’s sure that he’s never seen you before, but something stirs inside him; recognition. you two are the same, aren’t you? he hates it, hates how he feels bad for you as you sit there in mourning, though he just swore never to play the guitar again. he wasn’t one to sympathize, but there was just this inescapable pull to you, magnetizing and alluring.

against all better judgement, rin finds himself heading out his door, in the quiet of the early morning, when the sky is still a bleak gray and the birds aren’t yet singing. everything is wrong; rin was sure he swore off music, passion, even his own happiness. he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be approaching you still huddled over the broken instrument. as he draws closer and closer, rin hears a faint echo of that melancholic melody, one he knows too well.

it’s almost deja vu as he stares at it, the fender damaged beyond repair; hasn’t he seen this sight more than once, that night where it all went wrong?

“broken guitar?” rin asks, stating all the obvious. it's silent, completely still except for him and you.

“yeah,” you sniffle, looking up. your eyes glimmer with tears and it makes rin’s chest ache. he knows how it feels, too. “i just moved here, and the movers dropped it.”

“i…” he trails off, unsure if he really wants to do this. but he’s already out of his house, on the street here with you, so he might as well. “i live right there.” he points to his home, a squarish blue two-story. “i can probably get you a new one tomorrow, if you want to.” rin hurriedly adds the last part.

you look like you’re going to cry again, which startles rin. had he said something wrong?

“that’s really nice of you,” you finally say, standing up. “i’ll hold you to that offer?” your words phrased like a question, unsure. rin takes the moment to study you further: there’s a delicate sadness in your eyes, and it gets his heart thumping erratically. how odd.

“just knock tomorrow morning, or afternoon, i’ll be home.”

itoshi rin’s uneventful summer vacation might turn out to be something more after all.

ılılılılılılı TRACKLIST. ALL ALBUMS.

open taglist! comment for add. @levihanmyotp @megumismyhusband @shumeow-h @suksatoru @kaz-0e @chuurinnie @lukapurin @luvrrin @yuukiririix @lovelymeguru @jxst0yuukii @idexmids @vellichorira @venusss-ss @mixolya @x3nafix @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @ashiraismyname @ihe4rtme

[sixosix]

HOLD ON TO THE MEMORIES, AND I WILL HOLD ONTO YOU | LYNEY

notes happy last chapter!! hope u enjoy<33 and tune in for another post in appreciation for the last chapter yeahhh

previous chapter | masterlist

It took two months in Sumeru, three in Liyue, and one month in Snezhnaya to take you down. Childe admitted that you held up longer than he expected—training unrelentingly in an unfamiliar environment would shake anyone’s confidence. But you’d been pushing through with excitement at the prospect of traveling to another region and training to become stronger. The adrenaline is quick to disappear when Rosalie has to go back home, and her absence makes the cold loneliness prominent.

When Childe strikes at you with a sword, your calves burn, and your thighs quiver—that split second costs you the match. Childe calls for you to get up. Fight back. But for some reason, all you can think of is how the ice has melted in your boots in a puddle and how the flowers sprinkled sporadically in the snow are the same ones back at home.

Childe senses it, the sudden drop of mood. He studies whatever expression you’re making and smiles.

“Alright. I think it’s about time.”

“I’m sorry.”

Childe pulls you up and throws your arm over his shoulder. “What’re you sorry for?”

You take one heavy step at a time, watching and hating as your feet sink into the soft snow. It’s too cold. “You’re doing so much for me, but I’m too weak to follow through.”

“Nonsense.” He clicks his tongue. “I think of this as one of my duties.”

“But it’s not one of your duties,” you argue weakly. “I’m a burden to your actual duties. My colleagues are already suspicious of this special treatment.”

“They aren’t really your colleagues,” Childe points out. “Just as you aren’t actually working under me. You’re my mentee. There’s a world of difference.”

You sigh, unconvinced. Childe is doing so much to prevent the other Harbingers and even the Tsaritsa herself from snooping in your business. A part of you thinks the Tsaritsa already knows, but it’s about time she does something about it, right?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Childe remarks. When you turn to him, he’s staring ahead. “Don’t worry, okay? You’ve got three Harbingers vouching for you.”

“Three?”

Childe grins. “That boyfriend of yours is about to be one, isn’t he?”

Excitement thrums in each bone of your body as the familiar view of the continent-sized fountain comes to view. You nearly fall over into the ocean from tipping forward.

“Fontaine’s not going anywhere,” Childe yells out from the other side of the Fatui-issued ship.

The wind whips through your hair. The recognizable scent of the sea breeze makes you laugh in delight. Maybe you missed your home more than you realized. 

“I wouldn’t let it, anyway,” you answer back.

Once the ship has reached the dock, you bound over to Childe, who looks over curiously.

“Thank you,” you say, and you really, really mean it. For the past few months, for this and possibly for more in the future.

Childe ruffles your hair. It would’ve made you glare at him on usual days, but you’re bursting with happiness so you let him until he says, “No problem, Y/N. We’re friends now.”

Childe nudges you forward. “Now, go hurry. I’m about one messenger bird away from losing my patience with Lyney.”

Despite that, you meet with Rosalie first.

The sun has barely risen, just peeking from rolling hills. The shop is still closed. But this is your home, so you push the key in, pull the door open, and catch sight of Rosalie fixing the displays on the shelf behind the counter.

“Maman, why are you up so early?”

Rosalie’s head whips around, then her limbs lock up in place. She’d been with you for the first two weeks of Sumeru, admiring their flora, then taking a lot of them home. You see them displayed on the shelves next to your first flower—the ones that are certainly for sale. Rosalie still hasn’t moved, frozen, gaping at you.

“Surprise,” you say, then she boots back to life and runs over to hug you.

“Oh, my darling,” Rosalie says reverently, as if speaking to the gods, thanking them. Her hands are stained with soil dirt and the smell of leaves, but you find that there is nothing else more fitting. You really are home. “Ma bébé! You’re back!”

You pluck a few petals off of her hair. “I am.”

Rosalie pulls back and grins up at you. “You’re home! You’re—” her face twists in realization, “Oh, you’re back. Oh, dear. You just missed Lyney. He came over earlier to help me settle everything before I opened up.”

“Wait, really?”

Rosalie nods, ushering you inside the counter, where the door leads to upstairs to the kitchen. “Yes, yes. Since I returned, Lyney has been coming over to visit and help me with the shop.”

Your heart skips a beat. “He does?”

“Mhm. At first, I assumed it was because he got used to visiting you, but he just does it every day now. ” Rosalie shakes her head fondly, smoothing down your hair. “That boy. I tell him that he should focus when he has shows to practice or prepare for, but he just buries his hands in the dirt as an answer.”

“I see you two have gotten closer while I was away.” The image of Lyney changing pots, getting his hands soiled, while he insists that Rosalie does the watering, makes you unbelievably fond.

“As stubborn as you,” Rosalie chides, smiling. “He knows how to handle them, though. Did you know, Lyney started to send out messenger birds when I told him I was missing you? That boy is more than head over heels, darling.”

“Maman,” you say, embarrassed. “I just came back. Aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

“I don’t need to. Lyney updates me anyway,” Rosalie says. “But I have missed you, so tell your maman about everything, okay?”

“I’ll tell you stories for as long as you want me to, maman.”

Rosalie’s eyes water, but she braves through it as she stares wordlessly at you. She wipes it off, then ruffles your hair. Do you have a sign on your head or something? 

“I’m proud to call you my daughter. I’ll always want you to.”

Freminet is the first out of the siblings to hear from you. It’s not on purpose. You’re on your way to surprise Lyney and Lynette when you hear a soft voice call out after you. Your head snaps side to side, frantically looking for the source, then grin wide when Freminet waves at you feverishly.

“Y/N!” he exclaims breathlessly.

“Freminet!” you yell back, falling towards a hug that he tightly reciprocates. 

“I didn’t know you were back?” He says incredulously, which might just be the most passionate emotion you’ve ever felt from him. He looks torn between disbelief and joy.

“Just this morning. I wanted to surprise all of you.” To gain a sense of satisfaction, you bury your hand in his hair first, knocking his beret aside when you ruffle and mess with his hair. “Your hair’s gotten longer than usual.”

“Yeah. You missed too much,” Freminet mumbles. But he doesn’t look depressed about it. He beams up at you, reminding you of a particularly pleased puppy.  “You have a lot to catch up on.”

“I know, I know.”

“But wait.” Freminet’s brows scrunch together. “How long are you allowed to stay here?”

“Two weeks, at most. But I can always come back whenever I want.”

Freminet laughs. “Are you going to max out your two weeks before you talk to Lyney?”

“Shut up.” You elbow his ribs, but Freminet just laughs harder. “I was on my way to your house before I saw you.”

Freminet hums thoughtfully, his gaze drifting off to somewhere far. “I don’t think Lyney’s home right now.”

“Really?” You follow his gaze, but see nothing. Only kids running around, throwing cards around and sounding explosions with their mouths. You smile. Were they imitating Lyney? It seems that even if you try to avoid him, you’ll find traces of his footsteps anywhere. “Huh. Where could he be then?”

“Ever since you left, Lyney goes to this one spot a lot,” Freminet says, turning back to you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Ma mère’s shop?”

“No, no. A different one. He says you two sparred there, and he goes there when he misses you. He goes every day.”

Rosalie, then now Freminet… You feel giddy, fondness bursting in your chest at the thought of Lyney missing you as much as you missed him. Not that you’d admit it to him straight up—because then he’d never let it go. But even then, the thought of that has you smiling to yourself like a madman.

Freminet notices it, too. “I’ll tell Lynette you said hi.”

True to his word, you find Lyney in the same spot he asked you to spar with him after years without it. You face his back, but you keep your steps light and measured, moving closer and closer until you see that he’s picking flowers. For his show, maybe?

Lyney looks vulnerable, hunched over a patch of flowers and gently unrooting them from the grass.

You spread your palm and let ice materialize above it in the shape of a heart. It’s smooth and clean after months and months of perfecting it. Then you throw it towards him. You have exceptional aim—you barely miss his ear on purpose. But Lyney straightens up in a snap and catches the heart with a gloved hand.

He looks at the heart in confusion, then rapidly whips around to you.

You grin and wave, unsure of what to say. What do you even greet him with? It’s nice to see you again? I missed you?

You haven’t had much time to think about it as Lyney sprints to you and tackles you down into a hug, blowing the air out of your chest as you both fall on the grass. You laugh as Lyney rubs his head on your neck like those affectionate cats back at Sumeru, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder.

Lyney pulls away, pupils blown wide.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hi,” you whisper in return. Maybe the right thing to say is, “Lyney.”

“You’re back. You—you’re back in Fontaine—you made me a heart!”

“I did,” you say shyly. “I’m home.”

Sumeru had been wonderful; with trees that stretched and went on for forever, dewy grass that tickled your calves, and the heat of the sand that you longed for when you reached Snezhnaya. Liyue had been beautiful; spread with the aroma of spices and the orange glow of their sunset, then the mountains that allowed you to soar from one to another. Snezhnaya had been enchanting; the view of their sky was unmatched, the flowers that were unique to the cold climate were beautiful, their snow sent you a thrill that you knew you couldn’t feel anywhere else, and you were able to refine your Vision in the place where it belonged.

But the warmth that Lyney emanated—that he gave you—was the kind you missed in every place you went to. This is where you belong.

thank you so much for reading. i'll save all the things i want to say in the next post, so please, tune in!