#*reader

[yuzuvrse]

softly, sweetly

daisuke's there for you when you can't sleep.

daisuke (mouthwashing) x fem!reader, comfort/fluff, not exactly canon-compliant

“Daisuke…” You murmur, tapping his shoulder gently, “You awake?” “Hmm…? What is it?” His voice is hoarse, tinged with sleep as he wakes up. “Sorry…” You press your face into his back, his familiar scent washing over you and calming your nerves, but it clearly doesn’t work well enough, because barely a second passes before you’re sniffling. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” The man rolls over to face you, his brown eyes flooding with concern. “I…” You look up at him and you don’t even know how to string your jumbled thoughts together into coherent sentences – are you all stuck here forever? Will you ever see your family again? Is this where you're going to die?

You finally settle on a broken “I want to go home…”, your eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears. Now you’re crying freely, desperately burying your face in his chest to muffle your sobs lest you wake the others. “Oh, baby…” The pet name slips past his lips accidentally as he cradles your face in his large hands, thumbs calloused from working under Swansea swiping away at your tears, “Shh… it’s okay, let it out.”

Finally, your sniffles turn to hiccups, and then you fall silent. “We’re going to get home, okay? Swansea’s working on getting the cryopods free, remember? By the time 20 years pass, we’ll be back home!” Daisuke does his best to comfort you, one hand wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer and ground you with his warmth. His lips crack into a playful smile, “By then, you’ll be a granny~” That pulls a laugh out of you, “Shut up, you’re older than me. You’ll be a great-grandpa!” The two of you snicker quietly, shattering the tense silence in the room. The walls are awash in orange and red hues, painting a brilliant sunset on his features – he really is your sun.

Daisuke cups your cheek with one hand, and your eyes flutter shut as you nuzzle into his touch. It makes his breath catch in his throat, the absolute trust you place in him to be this vulnerable even as your life is up in the air – does he even deserve this? His free hand traces the contours of your face, learning every curve and dip and freckle, staring at you as if to commit your visage to memory. “Don’t stare,” you giggle softly as you open your eyes again. “I can’t help it…” His voice is almost breathless, “You’re so pretty.” A soft gasp escapes you, your cheeks heating up at his simple yet genuine compliment. He smiles, and his eyes are filled with adoration as his gaze sweeps over your features; you really are so beautiful. The gentle intimacy makes warmth blossom in your chest, and you envelope his hand with yours, turning your face ever so slightly to press a gentle kiss to his palm. 

“A-ah?!” Daisuke's eyes widen, almost bugging out of his head, but then his expression softens into one so incredibly tender it feels criminal to witness this moment while the ship hangs frozen in space. Can it be right to love someone under such circumstances? Or is it love precisely because it persists despite the circumstances? He presses his lips to the top of your head, resting his chin there as you tuck yourself into the crook of his neck. “I’m glad you’re here, Daisuke,” you whisper, savouring the feeling of your body slotted against his, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly as the world falls apart around them. “I’m so glad you’re here too,” He kisses the crown of your head once more, drawing circles on your lower back with his free hand, “Now go to sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“You’ll always be there, won’t you?” 

“I will, baby.”

( He lied. )

kira's notes ; first post on this acc yippee! and also first contribution to the mouthwashing fandom... i am so deeply obsessed w this man and this game it is Insane. my writing skills are vv rusty so plz bear with me while i get back into the swing of things,,, anyways i hope u liked this hehe <3

[writinghotchner]

ok i know this is kinda weird request butttttt Aaron Hotchner x reader where aaron is meeting readers father for the first time and the father kinda threatens aaron and is not happy with their relationship and then aaron gets kind of insecure and reader comforts him

listen, i keep saying there's no such thing as a weird request with me!!

and thank you for requesting! 🩷

pairing: hotch x fem!reader rating: e warnings: reader has a brief panic attack, angry reader!dad, yelling, swear words, hotch being insecure and a cute idiot all rolled into one

"okay," aaron says, blowing out a breath. "how does this look?"

you turn from your spot in the ensuite bathroom where you're sitting perched on the counter as you do your make up. "you look good, babe. as always." you shoot him a scrunched up nose smile at him and he rolls his eyes playfully at you. he's wearing dark blue jeans and a collared black polo shirt, nothing too fancy - something he would usually wear when he takes you to dinner. he nervously fidgets with his watch as he paces the bedroom.

you finish the final touches on your make up and slide off the counter to look at yourself from a distance in the mirror. your going to your father's house for dinner so he can meet aaron, so you don't have to look perfect, but it is the first time you're seeing your dad in about two years, so you kinda wanna look presentable. you turn your body to make sure you don't have a water or make up stain on your black dress.

"i've never seen you so anxious before," you tell him. he looks at you with wide eyes. "i'm fine." you huff a laugh through your nose. you might not be a profiler like him, but you can definitely tell when he's not acting like his normal self. and he's definitely not acting like his calm and collected normal self.

you walk over to him and place the palms of your hands on his chest. "he's going to love you." you smooth your hands up and fix his collar and then bounce up on your toes to kiss him on the lips.

he doesn't say anything to that, instead he just walks into the closet to put his shoes on. after a few minutes he reappears. "okay. how are you not nervous?"

you grin at him as you slide past him to get into the closet for your own shoes, and he quickly stops you with an arm across your stomach.

"you haven't seen the guy in nearly two years, and i know things didn't end...well...between you. are you sure you're going to be okay?" he uses his arm to pull you towards him so that you're standing in front of him. he lets his hand fall to the back of your hip and squeezes.

"i'll be okay. he insists everything is fine and forgiven, so i have to trust that. thank you for asking though."

he sucks in a deep breath through his nose and then leans down to meet your lips in a soft kiss.

-----

it isn't until your sitting in the car right outside of your father's house that you actually start to feel a little nervous. the anxiety is slowly simmering in your stomach and you can feel the heat of it rising up into your chest. you suck in a deep breath, close your eyes and will it all away. everything will be fine.

you catch aaron studying you out of your peripheral vision, but thankfully he doesn't ask if you're okay, because if he did...in that moment, you probably would have told him to take you home.

instead he turns to fully look at you, waiting for you to take the lead. when you don't, he lets himself out of the car and walks over to the passenger side and opens it, offering his hand to you.

you take it and stand, smoothing out any wrinkles in your dress. he closes the door behind you as he looks up to the house.

"we can get back in the car and go, honey. he'll never know-"

and as if on que, your father opens the front door and waves to you both. you both crack a fake smile and wave back. "ah, you weren't quick enough." he says in a whisper. you laugh.

----

it hasn't even been ten minutes inside the house with your father when you angrily slam the dining room chair you'd just been sitting in back under the table.

"you have NO fucking right, dad-"

"i have EVERY fucking right-"

your face is hot, your lungs feel like they're going to combust and you'd probably cry if the rage taking over your body wasn't holding every other emotion hostage.

aaron has an arm around you stomach holding you back. he's trying to talk over the yelling but you have no idea what he's saying, despite the fact that he's directly behind you.

"ENOUGH!" aaron booms. it startles you back into his chest and he grips you a little tighter. both you and your father fall silent.

"it was very kind of you to invite us for dinner," you hear him start, his voice is strong and firm - you can tell he's beyond upset. "and i'm sorry for whatever feelings you have about our relationship. but we're adults, sir, and i love your daughter and i'm not going to just leave her because you can't get past that i'm older than her."

the older man rolls his eyes and throws a glass salt shaker at the wall, barely missing both of your bodies. "get the fuck out of my house."

and so you do. you both hurriedly take off, aaron right behind you as you fling the front door open so hard you think for a split second it might actually fall off the hinges.

you clamor into the car and immediately drop your head into your lap, the monster anxiety attack that was simmering before you even got here now reaching the surface and boiling over. you hear aaron get in on the driver side, his hand immediately finding its way to your back rubbing soothing circles. he doesn't start the car even though he wants to drive as fast as possible out of here, but he needs to make sure you're okay before he can even think about navigating a motor vehicle.

"breathe, honey. it's okay. it's over and done with. we're going to go home and figure it out." his voice is low and soothing and makes you cry more.

you sober after a moment, tears still sitting in your eyes but don't spill over. you sniffle, clear your throat and shake your head, as if your body is an emotional etch-a-sketch that you're trying to clear. you huff out an angry sigh and put your seat belt on. "i'm okay, lets just go."

-----

its only when you walk through the front door of your apartment that you realize just how exhausted you are. the inevitable crash of crying hitting you hard. you toe your heels off at the door, not even bothering to pick them up and carry them with you back to the closet. neither of you say anything as you both make your way back to the bedroom and undress. it's not even 8 pm and you're ready to sleep for the next 3 days.

once you're in bed, you immediately crawl into aaron's waiting arms. you lay half on him on your stomach, your leg thrown in between his and rest your head on his shoulder. he's shirtless and warm and you snuggle and sigh into his neck as you finally try to process the events of the evening.

"are you okay?" you ask him.

"i'm fine," he tells you. "i was just worried about you. that was pretty intense."

you hum, a tinge of guilt hitting you. you didn't exactly tell him your father was an angry man, always looking to belittle and control you. for some reason, you thought that after 2 years of not seeing him, maybe he wouldn't blow a gasket. lesson learned.

"i'm sorry," you say. "i thought he'd behave better with you there."

he doesn't say anything else and you have to stop the tears from coming again.

"do..." he clears his throat. "do you...does the age difference between us bother you?"

your head pops up off his chest so quickly. you stare him in the eyes, the street lamp outside the window lighting up the room enough to see his sad face.

"please don't let him get to you, baby. he's always been mean and controlling that way, and he only said that to get under my skin."

"well..." he sighs. "did it get under your skin?"

"have i ever done or said anything to indicate that i'm worried about our age difference?" you take his face in your right hand and make him face you. "aaron."

he shakes his head no. "okay. you're just letting him into your head. you're not even that much older than me. 32 and 45 is not that bad, i promise. it's not like i'm 19 and you're 60." he cracks a smile at that.

with his face still in your hand, you use it to guide his lips to yours and then you move to kiss all over his face, leaving loud wet kissing sounds as you go.

he laughs, craning his neck to get away from you. "okay, okayokayokay-"

"if anything about our relationship ever bothers me, you know i'll always talk to you about it. okay? i promise." you kiss him again.

he nods his head. "i know."

a moment of silence passes before you talk again.

"so... you wanna roleplay? can you be my hot older grey haired professor and i can be your bratty little student." you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

he groans your name laughing and pushes you off of him, you slide off his shirtless body in your own laughter.

"i do not have grey hair yet."

"you have a grey eyelash! you also have gre-"

you don't even get to finish your sentence because he's wacked you in the face with one of the extra pillows on the bed, still laughing and telling you to go to sleep.

[knebellindemann]

[ballard96]

[howtokillavampire]

but what if i read one of your fanfics and then went to your ao3 account and read all of your fanfics and left a comment on every single chapter of every single one and you got spam emails from all of my kudos and comments and it made you smile, what then? what if i brighten your day with my words like you did mine, what then???

[tfatwsbarnes]

tower fics are so back baby

[natti-ice]

[moonchild311]

"you've already left kudos here. :)" ok and I'll leave some more. You got a problem? Because in my opinion, this work is so good and the author totally deserves it

[freakalot]

gojo hates condoms ☆

not even in an ‘i can’t feel a thing’ frat-fuck way either. he just wants to be close to you. he’s touch starved as it is and being inside of you is quite literally the closet he can be to you. why would he want a barrier between his achy length and your silken walls?

he hates condoms. hates them like they’re pointing south on his moral compass. hates them like they hurt to use—which they do, in a way—the mental anguish feels real to him, at least. he picks up a fuss in the grocery store when you pull a pack of ribbed condoms from the shelf to try because why would you seek pleasure from artificial ridges when the protruding veins of his cock would feel just as good if not dressed in a condom?

sometimes he eats you out for twice as long as usual to get you really fucked out and dumb. he’ll make you cum hard and fast and so much that your mind is a mess in the hopes that you’ll forget all about your safety precautions and let him feel you from the inside out. but you always catch on. with a tsk and a finger pointed to the draw where he keeps the horrid things out of sight.

so when you let him fuck you raw for the first time, gojo is reeling. it’s on the condition that he promises to pull out, and promise he does—with a pinky finger hooked around yours and his lips to his thumb—he promises to pull out.

he decides on missionary, because as much as he loves the hundred different positions he knows how to wrangle you into, he wants to connect with you. to make love, not fuck.

and even your wetness against his tip is enough to jolt his stomach downwards. collecting your glossing over his angry head as he rubs himself up and down your folds—he would cum just like this if he wasn’t so stuck on feeling all of you. you’re warm and wet and tight as he pushes against your entrance and oh god he’s going to cum already.

“oh,” he stills, eyes deadset on yours as he slides into you. his tip is rubbing against that spot that makes your back arch upwards and it takes everything in you not to laugh at the distraught look on his face as he says “i have to pull out.”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i really wish i was baby,” he looks pained. he’s never felt something so heavenly and ungodly at the same time. he wants to do bad things, to fuck you into the mattress and breed you full of himself until you’re too weak to care about the aftermath of such recklessness. “i can’t pull out.”

“what?” you laugh, his balls tighten at the sound.

“if i move—” satoru has never looked so serious, “—i will cum. this was a bad idea. why would you let me do this?”

“you’re the one always—”

“actually don’t argue with me, you know what it does to me.” he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on anything other then the way you feel around him. he does math in his head, thinks about the people he’s killed, how much he loves you… how pretty you look right now… growing old with you.

“i swear you’re getting harder inside of—”

“imsorryiloveyoubutpleasebequietorelseyouaregoingtogetpregnant.”

it takes him a minute of mental gymnastics to feel confident enough to start slowly sliding out of you, but all hope dies when the heel of your foot presses against his ass and with a smile made of sin you pull him deeper inside of you.

he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he is not joking and all that comes out is a beautiful strangled moan that makes you tighten around him. for a man who claims to be the strongest he is rather weak-willed when it comes to your pussy. he needs to cum so hard that it hurts, but a fear of maybe ruining your life and relationship digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“don’t do this to me,” he whines.

but you’re smiling. you’re so tight and wet and beautiful and everything he’s ever dreamt of having and holding and you’re smiling. “satoru,” you say, and he’s weak. “cum inside.”

anything for you. it’s gorgeous: the way he lets loose, falling forward to press all his weight into you as he groans and his balls release in hot spurts that you can feel painting your insides white. it’s the connection, the intimacy, the tears that prick at his eyes.

and he doesn’t pull out. no, he presses his hips forward to fuck his cum as deep into you as he possibly can and he vows to throw out every condom in the goddamn house.

god he hates condoms.

part 2

[yuzuvrse]

i will not go gentle into that good night

in life and in death, you love(d) daisuke.

warnings : daisuke (mouthwashing) x reader, implied sa [of reader], major character death, mouthwashing spoilers, canon-typical violence & then a bit more, reader crashes out on jimmy (deserved), pet names (reader calls daisuke baby)

“Oh, Daisuke…” You sob, tears dripping down your face as you look at the young man lying on the floor in front of you. Once so vivacious and full of life, now he's reduced to a writhing, bleeding mess on the floor, hair matted with blood and eyes glassy. “My baby,” you hesitate to even touch him, but then you're stroking his cheek the same way you always did when you were cuddling together, “My poor baby, what happened to you?”

His pupils are unfocused, darting around crazily before finally settling on you, and his breath that was coming in short pants slows. “Mmm?” He looks up at you, really looks, and you know he knows you're there. “Yes, Daisuke, it's me, I'm here,” you gaze at him through teary eyes, “I'm here for you.” His hand rises shakily as if to hold your face and you cup it eagerly, nuzzling into it with an almost pathetic desperation, “D-don't move, baby, don't move.” You whimper, though you want nothing more than to stay like this with his warm hand on your cheek.

“I wish I'd been there with you.” The thought of the man you love crawling through the vents alone, through the dark and dust and dirt and sparks, all for the sake of saving poor dead Anya… it breaks your heart into pieces. You can't even fathom how much pain he's in, but he still musters up the strength to shake his head ever so slightly. Even on death's doorstep, he’s still worried about you. “Why did you go?” You weep, even though you already know the answer, “Stupid wannabe hero.” Daisuke exhales, a long ragged breath that's wreaked with pain and your heart shatters even more. You crumple into yourself, pressing your forehead against his gently, “You are a hero, Daisuke, okay? You're so brave, my precious baby, fuck-!” The absolute unfairness of the situation hits you like a freight train and you can feel your sanity slipping as you clutch his hand tightly, your sole tether to reality.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there with you,” you plead for his forgiveness, though you already know once you gaze into his loving brown eyes you'll find no hatred there. The guilt is overwhelming, threatening to consume you even though you were a victim of the same cocktail given to Swansea. Daisuke merely looks at you, his chest rising and falling, shallower and shallower each time. You know he doesn't blame you.

“My baby, Daisuke, I'll fix this, okay? You're going to be fine, okay?!” You can feel the hysteria lacing your tone and you don't know how to get rid of it. Then you feel the familiar weight of Swansea's hand on your shoulder, “Kid… Get out of the way.” You turn back to face the mechanic, and as soon as your bloodshot eyes catch a glimpse of the axe you know what he wants to do. “Swansea, no! You can't!” You throw yourself in front of Daisuke, sobbing freely, “Please, Swansea, don't do it!” Swansea's tough demeanor cracks for a split second, and he says, “He's suffering like this. You don't want him to be in pain, do you?” “But I want him to live,” You cry, “We're going to make it home together, Daisuke promised me!” Hearing the words leave your mouth cements the thought for what it really was – a childish fantasy. “Kid… I'm sorry,” is all Swansea can say, knuckles clenched white around the axe handle.

Daisuke lets out a pained gasp, air rushing in through gritted teeth, and you know you can't prolong this anymore. “Baby…” you brush his long brown hair out of his face tenderly, affection evident in your every move. Leaning down to press a final kiss to his lips, you whisper, ���It'll happen, okay? We'll move in together and get two dogs that'll be best friends, just like you said you wanted. You'll go to art college and become the most famous painter in the whole world. And I'll be there with you every step of the way because-” Your voice cracks. “Because I love you so much, my Daisuke.” “Now close your eyes, baby,” You stay like that for a moment, thumb stroking his cheek as you watch his features slip into a content expression. Then you turn away, blood thrumming in your ears and rushing through your head, and before you know it, the axe is swinging through the air before hitting its mark with a sickening crunch.

A choked sob escapes your lips, and you feel Swansea's comforting embrace as he pulls you into his arms, “Shh… It's okay. It had to be done.” You bury your face in his chest, an endless stream of tears wetting his shirt, “Daisuke… he didn't deserve this!” “I've got you,” Swansea remains strong, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “No, don't look.” He guides your chin away when you crane your neck to try and catch a final glimpse of the man you love, “Remember him for who he was, not like this.” “Swansea…” A broken moan rips itself from your throat, “I loved him.” And all the old man can do is caress your hair, pulling you tighter into his arms as you cry, “I know, kid. He loved you too.”

—

“You.” You snarl as soon as Jimmy walks into the room, eyes widening when he sees Daisuke's corpse, “This is your fault!” “What the fuck?” Jimmy gasps, staring at Swansea, “You monster!” “Fuck you!” You scream, and the look of total shock and horror on Jimmy's face that you, a foolish intern dares to speak to him so rudely, is almost cathartic as you repeat, “This is all your fault!”

Then you're lunging at him, arms swinging in every direction until you topple him over, nails scratching at his face and gripping his neck so tightly you hope you draw blood. Tears are falling down your face as you sob, “I didn't say anything about what you did to me. About what you did to Anya. But why did you have to hurt Daisuke?!” “T-the medbay… locked… Anya…” Jimmy chokes out, and you laugh wildly, “What a fucking joke. You never cared about Anya, not when she was alive, and certainly not now that she's dead.” “And you know what?” Your nails dig deeper into his skin, and you feel a flash of wicked delight when you see the red beads start to form. “You drove her to it!”

Jimmy's gagging and spluttering, desperate for air, and you grin with vicious pride, “Is this how you felt? Sneaking into Anya’s and my room? Now you can fucking learn how we felt.” You're pressing down harder, desperate to make him feel even a sliver of the pain that Daisuke felt, that Anya felt, that you felt, but then Swansea's lifting you up and pulling you away, even as you kick and scream, “Swansea- no! Let me go!” You're about to sink your teeth into the older man's arm when he says, “I won't let you end up like him,” and you freeze, letting him place you gently on the sofa.

Jimmy holds his neck with both hands, desperately sucking in air until his frantic gaze meets yours, “You.” He stands up on shaky legs, trying to retrieve something from his back pocket, “You're a danger to the crew.” “What crew?” You bark out a hollow laugh, “There's no crew left.” Jimmy bristles at that, eyes bloodshot and crazed, “I'm going to fix this.” You laugh again, dry and devoid of mirth, “You're already dead, and so am I.” “You will be.” Jimmy cocks a gun at you, and you stare down the barrel with a warped smirk, “You were a useless captain, and an even worse man. Do it, you fucking coward.”

Swansea growls, readying the axe, but the wannabe captain's too quick. One shot bursting through your chest and you're gone. And as your eyes flutter closed for the last time, you catch a glimpse of Swansea swinging the weapon once more at Jimmy – you think you can die peacefully now that he'll avenge all the senseless deaths on the Tulpar.

You hope this hurts.

kira's notes : Um. No comment. i wrote the first half bc i was so sad abt the absolute tragedy that is daisuke's character, and then i got so unbelievably angry at jimmy that i had to write the second half LMFAO 😭 i had this in my drafts for ages bc it was xmas and then new years and i felt bad posting angst around those times 💀 but anyways happy new year! hope you liked this <3

[writinghotchner]

Wait I love girldad!hotch so much. Hotch x Reader where they have a baby girl? Since it's christmas maybe a cute family xmas moment with them and Jack?

god, i love girldad!hotch too 😭

fandom: criminal minds pairing: hotch x fem!reader rating: e warnings: none

this isnt as christmassy as i really wanted but this is where the story took me?? 🤷‍♀️ anyway, i hope you enjoy it! <3

it was relatively late when you finally dragged your tired feet through the front door of your home. later than you usually get home, anyway. 7 pm isn't usually late for most people, but you're usually home by 4, 4:30 at at the latest. a holiday party fiasco kept you later than normal and you could've snuck away sooner if it hadn't of been for your boss stalking and lurking his way through the building.

as you step inside and kick off you heels, you're immediately hit with two things. 1. something smells so good and, 2. your daughter has once again been possessed by the loudest screamiest demon to ever travel the dark realms.

you quickly shrug off your coat and drop your bag off at the door and make your way to the smells and noises. you travel down the small hallway, taking in the christmas decorations that adorn the walls, you trail by the big beautiful christmas tree thats fully lit and standing so tall in the living room, and then you finally round your way into kitchen where you see your husband with your nine month old daughter strapped to his chest, the carrier straps crisscrossed along his back giving it away. he's bouncing her as he speaks while stirring whatever it is he's making on the stove. you lean against the door frame with a smile listening to the cuteness in front of you.

your daughter's screaming has calmed down now, it's now just a hiccupping cry accompanied by little sniffles here and there. you see hotch use his spare hand to bring it up to cup the back of the little girls head.

"i know, baby, i miss her too, but she'll be home and we'll both be so happy, huh?" he steps away from the stove and starts swaying her, his hand never leaving the back of her head. he turns a little giving you access to her little face and you can then see her big beautiful brown eyes staring up at him and the worlds biggest frown on her face. even from this distance you can see her face is red from screaming and she still has globs of tears threatening to leave her eyes at any given moment.

"i'll put on a wig and one of mommy's shirts if it'll make you feel better," he says in his baby-talk voice. "i'll do whatever you want if you'll just stop giving me those big sad eyes."

you can't help but to chuckle at that. you step more into the kitchen to rest your elbows against the island counter directly behind him.

"what's goin' on in here?" you finally say and hotch spins around, his face cracking open with a smile.

"hey!" he laughs through his smile, "when did you get home?"

"just now." you tell him. you stand behind him and pop up on your toes to peer over his broad shoulder at your baby girl. she's nearly stopped crying at this point but the second her eyes land on you and she realizes who you are, she full on screams, the tears sitting in her eyes now free falling down her cheeks. her face scrunches up so much you wonder how it's even possible.

"oh, baby," you coo, moving to stand next to your husband as he helps you pull her out of the carrier. "what's the matter, huh? stuck at home with daddy all day got you the blues?"

hotch turns to glare at you for that. "we had a good time." he says turning back to the stove. "you know, until she started screaming at me."

you hold her close to your chest, your lips resting on the top of her soft head. she almost immediately calms, save for a few shuttering breaths. you sway her slowly, giving her a little squeeze of comfort.

"where's jack?" you ask, turning to look back into the living room to see if he was in there watching tv.

"he's probably in his room getting ready."

you blink a couple of times, your eyes drifting up to think about why jack would be getting ready to go somewhere. and then it hits you.

"oh, no, dave's is tonight?" you questioned, checking the time on the on the stove. dave had invited the entire bau gang + family to his house for christmas eve dinner, it had been in your planner since thanksgiving.

hotch turns to look at you. "yeah. is that a problem? we can cancel if-"

"no! no, it's okay. i just forgot. it's been a long tiring day." you sigh, a little mad at yourself for forgetting.

hotch opens the oven door and takes out a batch of what looks like sugar cookies. he uses his foot to close the door behind him as he sets the cookie tray down, and then he shuffles his socked feet over to you, quickly enveloping you and your daughter in a hug. he smiles at you lovingly before he kisses your lips and then kisses his daughter's head.

"i can take the kids if you want to stay here."

you shift the now sleeping baby to your left arm and use your right arm to pull him closer to you, reconnecting your lips.

"that's sweet. but i don't mind going, really. my social battery might be a little on the dead side, though." you kiss him again with a hum, chuckling softly when you taste the sugar cookies on his lips.

he smiles against you. "okay," he says, taking the baby out of your arms. "i'll take her, you go check on jack and then go get ready. everything in here is nearly done, and then all i have to do is get changed and put her in her christmas onesie." the little girl whines a little as shes moved but doesn't make much of an effort to wake up or cry. he sits her back in her carrier, her head lulling to his chest, her little lips smacking as she settles into him. you nearly cry at the sweetness of it all. especially the thought of the littlest hotchner in her green christmas tree onesie that penelope had gotten her before she was even born.

"she's fine, honey, get outta here." and with that, he lightly snaps a hand towel across your butt grinning.

you laugh and turn to leave the kitchen but not without throwing "keep that up, hotchner, and we won't leave this house," over your shoulder. and then you're gone.

"oooh, mommy's being mean to daddy, little one." hotch stage whispers. she doesn't move or even open her eyes. "oh, i see how it is. take her side, huh?"

[fromcainwithlove]

author’s notes today: hey guys so just a warning there isn’t 100% explicit verbal consent even though they’re both really into it so remember this is FICTION, also they don’t use a condom :((( but in real life safe sex is important!!! please be safe out there everyone

a/n back in the day: kept thinking about ____ stabbing knives through both of _____’s hands to pin him in place while they fucked so here you go lol =P

[fatimazainab]

Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

[baobei-bu]

[going2hell4everythingbutbeingbi]

yall gotta learn the difference between "this character is an asshole" and "this character was supposed to be super cool but the author is an asshole" and "this character is a teenage girl who was mean once"